by Dee, Bonnie
The wind whistled down the pavement, blowing the ladies’ skirts tight around their legs and nearly making hats escape their pins. It was time to board the vehicles that would take them to the reception venue—a hall Guy had rented and Rose had decorated with so many flowers it resembled a fairy bower.
Rose spoke animatedly with Alain when Candace approached them. “It is a good plan. If you need help with any of the details, I’m certain Will can be of some use.”
Rose immediately changed the subject. She pointed toward Vivienne, whom Lady Carmody was entertaining. “The child clearly admires you greatly, Candace, and you have such a natural way with her.”
“She is easy to grow fond of.” As is her father. Candace met Alain’s loving gaze and wondered what he and Rose had been speaking of. She guessed it might have something to do with an official proposal. The chill weather could not touch the glow in her heart at the thought. She would not allow the continual nagging problem of joining two households in one place to trouble her during this day of love and celebration.
*
The wedding reception was more lavish than any Alain had ever attended. Those in Marcoussis were much simpler affairs. One’s first impression upon entering the room was of a flower garden with the ladies’ gowns transforming them into moving flowers amidst the real ones.
Of course, Alain had viewed the room earlier when he and a hired man had carefully transported Candace’s truffle display to the venue. Each little square was decorated with flowers to match the theme. He hoped the chocolates would not soften too much in the overheated room before it was time to serve them.
Guy Hardy escorted his bride around the room to greet their many guests. Tall and elegant, at his side, Hattie offered gracious smiles and comments to everyone. If she was discomfited by the near strangers and the elaborate affair as Candace had claimed, she did not reveal it in any way.
Alain turned to Candace, wishing the celebration were over so they might speak in private. The question weighing heavily on his mind was not, “Would you care for a glass of lemonade?”
“I would,” Vivienne spoke up. “Please and thank you.”
Before Alain could fetch drinks, a gong resounded and the guests found their seats for supper.
A bridal toast, delivered by a blushing, stammering Will Carmody, seemed likely to be painful. Yet once the man became invested in his short speech, the impediments of shyness dropped away.
“Whether it be a sporting competition or life, Guy Hardy has always challenged me and urged me to summon the best in myself. I could not be happier that he has found Harriet Glover, a woman who fulfills this same role for him. She brings out my friend’s finest qualities, the ones I always knew he possessed. Cheers to the happy couple, Mr. Guy Hardy and Mrs. Harriet Hardy.”
Although Alain had only known these new friends for a brief time, Will’s sincere adulation touched him deeply. He drank the toast then faced a meal he doubted would sit well in his nervous stomach. His intended conversation with Candace would not allow him to relax and enjoy the feast.
Vivienne dribbled a spot of gravy on the front of her dress. Before Alain could reach for a napkin, Candace was already attending to it. She glanced at him and smiled, making him fall even deeper into a bottomless well of love. If it was too soon to discuss his plan, he did not care. He could wait no longer to tell Candace what was in his heart.
*
The letter Candace had received from Susan, postmarked Boston, Massachusetts, was a large part of what compelled her to make the offer she intended to.
It seemed all had not turned out well for Susan and her beloved. Judith claimed she still cared deeply for Susan but did not have strength enough to leap the hurdles required of their love.
It would seem my journey to Boston was in vain, Susan wrote. But it is not true, despite my grievous loss. I have found employment as a secretary and am training to use a typewriter. Although my heart feels irreparably broken just now, I cannot believe this is the end of love for me. A different future than I could ever have imagined lies before me. Thank you for being such a good friend during this troubled time in my life.
Your friend always,
S. Carter
As Candace wept over the letter, she’d thought about her future with Alain and Vivienne in a new light. Alain had recently hinted he would move permanently to England so she might keep her shop. He would uproot his family and shuttle back and forth between two countries for her. Of course the mere suggestion thrilled Candace, but why should he have to endure such sacrifice when it would be much easier for her to make a change? While she would miss her dear friends and her darling little shop, she could visit London occasionally and surely Alain would find her some work at Moreau chocolates.
The thought of her upcoming conversation with him on the subject continued to occupy her, but Candace tried to set it aside and simply enjoy the party.
As Alain waltzed her past the dessert table, it was clear her truffles had been a grand success. Only a portion of the base remained. “Clever you for placing business cards near it,” Candace complimented her partner. “I would have hesitated to promote myself at a wedding.”
“There is no wrong time for advertising. Anyway, I asked Hardy first.” Alain’s breath brushed her temple they danced so close. She wished they might be alone on the floor, swaying to a tune composed only for them.
She snuggled closer. “Vivienne will likely have fallen asleep the moment Madame Bernard put her to bed. Her eyes were already at half-mast when they left, although she protested she wasn’t sleepy.”
Alain replied. “You have not yet witnessed Vivienne when she is overly tired. I feared she might throw a tantrum. It is not a pretty sight.”
Stifling a yawn, Candace drew back to look at him. “I myself am fairly exhausted. Shall we leave soon?”
His slow grin was all the reply she needed. “I hoped you might suggest that.”
After bidding farewell to their friends, the couple made their way toward Providence Street not far away. They chose to walk the quiet streets, hands linked like any courting couple. Candace clung to Alain’s warm hand while reliving the events that had brought him into her life.
She laughed. “Do you know when I first saw you waiting on the doorstep outside my shop, I feared you intended me harm.”
“Good heavens, why?” Alain drew her hand to his mouth and kissed the naked sliver of wrist above her glove. “Did I appear so dangerous?”
“Not really, although I remember noting at the time that your smile did not reach your eyes. I was alone in the shop and it seemed foolhardy to let in a strange man, but then I saw the Moreau Chocolates case and all was well.”
“Thank heavens for that. When I think how we nearly might have missed each other…” He slid an arm around her waist.
“At the time, I feared my guardian might send someone to bring me to him as he had done before.”
“Le scélérat! I should go to his house and shake the life out of him.”
“My private investigator has informed me that Merker has left London. Once I dismissed him from my father’s company, there was no reason for him to stay. Yet he lingered until the day I spoke to him.”
Alain stopped and pivoted to face her. “You spoke to this man? When?”
“After you left. I needed to see him to rid myself of his power over me once and for all. Once I had said all I wanted to, I slapped his face. A most satisfying feeling! No wonder men punch each other for sport in their silly boxing matches. It is most exhilarating.”
“Mon coeur, I cannot believe you have not yet told me all this.”
“I also never mentioned that once Merker had brought me home, he not only locked me in my bedroom but tied me to the bed. If not for Rose and Will… I shudder to think.”
An explosion of French curses rang through the empty park before Alain recovered his temper. “How I wish I had been the one to hit the dog. He would not have risen again.”
Ca
ndace patted his arm. “I did not tell you this to make you upset. In fact, I considered never mentioning the incident, but if we are to be as close as two people can be, I thought you should know everything. For there is something quite important I would like to discuss tonight.”
“And there is something I wish to say as well.” Alain started to drop to his knees.
“Wait! Shall we continue on?” She spoke through chattering teeth. “I think it is too cold for more important confessions here on the street.”
*
They were scarcely through the alley door and out of their coats before Alain knelt and grasped Candace’s hands. He gazed up into the face he could not imagine living without.
“Miss Sweet, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I know I should take more time to woo you. I will continued to do so if that is what you wish. But I cannot bear to wait any longer to declare what fills my heart.” He clasped a hand to his chest, inside which heat burned as if some great illness had overtaken him.
“Je t’aime, and Vivienne loves you as well. Now that my divorce is finalized, I have been looking at houses in London. I’ve found one that might suit us both, but naturally, I wanted to show it to you before making a commitment. I could not show you the house without asking you to marry me first. There seems to me no reason to wait if we both wish to begin our life together.”
Candace remained silently staring at him, her lips parted.
Alain’s expectation of an immediate agreement turned to worry. “I’ve said too much too soon. I apologize for my impatience.”
“No! No, no, no. That isn’t it at all.” She dropped to her knees to face him, gripping both his hands tightly. “I was going to tell you that it makes no sense for you and Vivienne to move when your home and business are in Marcoussis. I would sell my business and move there. I can make chocolate anywhere, perhaps even in your factory. As much as I love my little shop, I thought I might offer it to Charbonnel et Walker as a potential second location.”
Awe filled him at her unexpected announcement. “You would do that? Give up your dream for me and Vivienne?”
“I would.” Her fierce answer sounded like a vow.
“No! I refuse your offer. The factory can operate without my direct supervision. My new manager is proving more than competent. This is the challenge Chappelle has been waiting for. I truly believe I can oversee matters from a distance. I want to live in London. Vivienne is very excited about it and has already informed me if I don’t marry you she will be very cross. Madame Bernard might not be quite as happy about emigrating, but she is willing to come with us, if that is all right with you. I suppose we could hire an English nanny—”
“Absolutely not! Vivienne loves her nounou and there would already be great changes in her life. Are you absolutely certain this is what is best for her? And for you?”
“I am.” Those words were his vow.
She lowered her head for a moment. When she faced him again tears glistened in her eyes. “Then I suppose I have no choice but to say I do. I do love you. I do want to marry you. I do wish to be a mother to Vivienne. And I do greatly appreciate you upending your life for me. When may I see this house you have found?”
“Tomorrow if you like.” He released her hands in order to cup her face and kiss her. “For I do love you. I do want to marry you as soon as possible and I do wish to begin our life as a family. Also, I do believe you are the greatest treasure I have ever been lucky enough to stumble across—an exquisite truffle in the midst of wax chocolate drops.”
*
Candace laughed at the metaphor that suited them both. “You are the treasure, Alain Moreau. My love for you will never diminish, nor would I ever leave you. You and Vivienne are safe to trust in me. I promise.”
Much later, after Alain reluctantly left her bed to return to his own flat, Candace stretched beneath warm covers still smelling of his skin. She yawned, deliciously tired and utterly relaxed. The sounds of the building creaking and settling no longer frightened her. Shadows held no power over her. She had turned the page from her frightening past, and ahead of her lay many blank pages waiting to be inscribed.
Together she and Alain would fill them with the best of recipes, one containing faith, respect, patience, and great love. What a truly wonderful creation it would be.
Epilogue
Late Winter 1908
“Call to order,” Rose interrupted Candace and Hattie’s discussion of advertising campaigns and whether printed matter or word of mouth was more efficacious a marketing tool. “No more business talk, ladies. It is time for the true subject of our meeting to begin: the married women of Providence Street complain about their spouses’ annoying habits.”
“Alain has none to speak of,” Candace immediately defended her groom of less than a month. She smiled at the happy memory of their wedding day—a far simpler affair than the Hardys’ had been. A judge had performed a civil ceremony. Candace wore a new gown and a cunning cloche hat created by Hattie, but the courtroom was no charming chapel.
Naturally, Vivienne had disapproved of the lack of pomp and circumstance, although she’d been somewhat mollified by her own new frock and the crown of flowers Rose made for her hair.
“Come summer we will have a lovely celebration outdoors,” Candace had promised the child. “For now, your papa and I simply wish to be wed without great ceremony.”
“If you say so.” Vivienne had looked up at her. “But you are so very pretty I should think you would want all of London to see you…Maman.”
That hesitantly offered title did her in. Candace could hardly hold back tears as she joined her groom before the judge and her voice broke as she made her vows.
After they were wed, she relayed the incident to Alain, who kissed her soundly.
“Not only a bride but a mother on the same day. I pray it is not all too much, and you do not regret your choice.”
She slapped his chest. “Don’t dare think that! I love you, fool, and our daughter too.”
The rest of that day passed in a blur, but she recalled their first night as husband and wife in most intimate detail, memories to hold close, relive and treasure whenever she wished.
Now Candace sighed as she snuggled her stocking feet closer to the radiator which kept the Carmody’s conservatory warm on even such a blustery winter’s day. Snow might pelt the glass, but inside the room the delightful aroma of green, growing things reminded them all that springtime was around the corner.
Rose took a sip from her glass and resumed the itinerary of their meeting. “I’ll go first. May we talk about dirty undergarments and other sundries dropped on the floor for someone else to tend to? These gents never ’ad to work in their lives and ’ave no idea ’ow to tidy after themselves.” Her h’s disappeared as she relaxed into the bottle of claret. “Will is neat enough with his books and papers, but his personal habits are lacking.” Rose shook her head. “Endearing at first, yeah, but annoying soon enough.”
She waved her glass at Hattie. “Now you.”
“Where do I begin? I’m certain I don’t need to preface this by saying how much I love my husband, but once a flirt always a flirt. Guy cannot possibly turn off his endless faucet of charisma no matter what the circumstance. Man, woman, or child it doesn’t matter, his attention makes that person reflect his light as if he were the sun. And his facile wit never sleeps.” Hattie sighed. “Sometimes I wish he could be a wallflower rather than the center of any room he’s in.”
Her friends gazed expectantly at Candace, who put a hand to her heart. “Truly, I’ve no complaints about Alain. In the short time we’ve been married he has been perfect.”
Rose cleared her throat and stared. Hattie arched an eyebrow.
“Except… sometimes…”
“Ah, there it is,” Rose said.
“I do rather wish he was not quite so adamant in his cooking instructions. I realize chocolate-making has been Alain’s life and I am but a novice but…” She frowned an
d pressed on. “Maybe I would like to make some mistakes and learn from them. Trying this and that might even produce an interesting result. Experimentation is essential if one is to make one’s own mark, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely.” Hattie filled Candace’s glass. “Next time he offers undesired advice, you must tell him to stuff it.”
Rose snorted. “Better yet, correct his experimentation in the bedroom. See how he likes that!”
Candace blushed. She was not at ease discussing such private matters even with these very dear friends, but she managed to say, “I would be lying for I have absolutely no complaints in that department.”
Hattie sipped thoughtfully. “Nor do I.”
“Nuh-uh,” Rose agreed. “These fellows of ours make the little annoyances quite worth it, don’t they?” She held out her glass for Hattie to refill then raised it. “Here’s to the men brave enough to take us on.”
“Cheers,” the others responded.
Candace exchanged a look with Rose, sitting in the exotic conservatory she had designed, and Hattie, wearing her latest style of chapeau. “You two are the sisters I never had. How I admire you both. Here’s to us women, strong enough to know what we want and to make it happen. I quite like us.”
“Here, here. To women.” The three friends shared a toast.
The End
About the Author
New York Times and U.S.A. Today Bestseller Bonnie Dee began inventing stories as a child, when she was the designated ghost tale teller at sleepovers. Writing childish stories on a yellow legal pad evolved into inventing fan fiction romances and later into writing for publication. Bonnie enjoys reading stories about people damaged by life who find healing with a like-minded soul. When she couldn’t find enough books to suit her taste, she began to write them.
Taking the parasol approach to writing—a different color for every ensemble, she has dabbled in many romance sub-genres including historical, contemporary, paranormal, fantasy, and mystery. During years of collaboration with author Summer Devon, the pair produced many gay historicals, including a couple of Rainbow Award winners.
