The Cherbourg Jewels (The Cherbourg Saga)
Page 18
The society matrons sipped champagne and held onto the arms of the tuxedoed gentlemen beside them, eyebrows raised and breath bated in anticipation of Sébastien’s speech. She couldn’t believe how well it had all come together. She, Sébastien, and the museum had worked like a well-oiled machine to satisfy every insurance condition and fire code possible, ensuring the opening night was a success.
You did it, babe, she thought, letting her gaze drift over Sébastien’s face.
Finally, he tapped the microphone with one finger and cast a warm green glance over the gathered throng. “Good evening everyone,” he said, his deep voice filling the room. “And thank you all for coming to my family’s eighth exhibition with the California Pacific Museum. If you feel this display is all a little vulgar, you’re not alone. As you may have read in the newspapers, one of my former employees took it upon himself to—shall we say—significantly reduce the number of displays I’m able to show you.”
The crowd tittered and Sébastien flashed her a smile. She gave him a thumbs-up sign in return.
“But I’m proud to report that the missing jewels were returned to us in good condition and are on display here tonight. Now, before I turn you loose, I want to make two brief announcements.”
Here, he pressed his lips together and looked down at his feet for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and continued. “My grandfather acquired some of these pieces at a cost most of us could never comprehend—a man’s life. There is no excuse for what he did and no way I can make up for it. But there is a way I can start.”
Ella felt her forehead wrinkle into the tiny lines she hated. “Sébastien, what are you doing?” she muttered under her breath.
Up on stage, Sébastien continued. “Once the exhibition has closed, all pieces that contain stolen stones will be disassembled. The stones will be returned to their rightful owner, Miss Ella Wilcox. Also, the museum’s director and I have agreed to co-fund a scholarship program for talented young jewelry designers, the Frederick Wilcox Memorial Scholarship Prize.”
Ella felt her throat run dry. She’d had no idea Sébastien was going to do anything of the sort. Tears gathered beneath her lashes and she blinked quickly to clear them away. It was exactly what her father would have wanted—a fitting end to the torturous path she had walked for eighteen years now.
Sébastien’s eyes met hers and she knew he understood what this gesture meant to her, to her father’s memory. “Thank you,” she whispered, knowing he could read her lips.
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m not finished,” he said, stepping away from the podium. He descended the stairs down to the museum floor and made his way over to her, the crowd clearing a way before him with amused smiles and indulgent glances.
As he stepped towards her, she felt as if all the stress and grief and anger of years past just dissolved. Instead of chasing a killer, she could chase her own future—and she knew it was with him.
He couldn’t hold back a smile as he approached her. Seeing his happiness brought out her own and she smiled back at him.
He approached her and went down on one knee.
Ella gasped and held her hands to her face. This isn’t happening, she thought. It’s too much. She felt as if her heart might burst with happiness.
Sébastien’s green eyes glowed with all the warmth and love they’d shared since leaving O’Malley’s house, hand in hand. “Ella,” Sébastien said, pulling a blue velvet box from his jacket pocket. “I want you to know that this isn’t one of my family’s blood-stained diamonds. This is something fresh and pure, a new start for both of us.”
He opened the case and gave her an eye-popping view of a multi-carat diamond set in a plain silver band. “It sparkles, like you. It’s brilliant, like you. It’s strong and it’s real. And I would be honored if you would wear it for me. Today and every day from here until the end.”
Ella couldn’t hold back the tears. She was about to answer when she heard Frau Müller clear her throat.
“Please,” Sébastien added quickly.
Ella laughed through her tears of happiness. “Since you asked so nicely,” she said, falling into his arms.
The End
What did you think? Would you have done what Ella and Sébastien did?
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Author photo by Ryan Donahue
Jenni Wiltz writes mysteries, thrillers, historical fiction, and romance. Before devoting herself to writing, she worked as an editor, an advertising copywriter, a grant coordinator, and an assistant to very busy investment bankers. She is thrilled to have won the 2011 RWA Kiss of Death Chapter’s Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Category Romantic Suspense, Unpublished Division. Her short stories have appeared in The Portland Review, the Sacramento News & Review, and The Copperfield Review. She lives in Pilot Hill with her husband.