“Your grandparents are very dear,” she told him as they walked out to the car.
When he helped her inside, he didn’t start it right away. “I don’t think I would have made it through this life without them. Do you know when I saw you at the train station, I was reminded of that old French fairy tale you’re holding. My grandmother used to read it to me as a child. Have you heard the story of Blondine?”
“No.”
“‘There was a king called Benin. He was good and all the world loved him; he was just, and the wicked feared him. His wife, the Queen Doucette, was also good and much beloved. This happy pair had a daughter called the Princess Blondine, because of her superb golden hair, and she was as amiable and charming as her father the king, and her mother the queen.’
“I loved the beginning of that story, especially the drawings, because their family looked and sounded so happy. I begged my grandmother to read the beginning over and over again. It made me want to crawl inside the pages where I could be that happy too.”
Tears stung Abby’s eyelids. “Raoul—was your childhood that unhappy?”
“Let’s just say it left a lot to be desired. The rest of the fairy tale isn’t important. But the picture of Blondine looking so happy stayed with me. That was the look I saw in you that first day, an intangible quality impossible to describe. It’s certainly one reason why I was drawn to you.”
Listening to Raoul, Abby gained an insight into why he’d told her he didn’t want their relationship to cause her pain. His desire to protect her from his difficult family made the kind of sense that helped her to feel closer to him. Combined with his recent loss, it made his desire to crawl into the pages of the fairy tale that much more poignant.
“I had no idea that’s what you were thinking about when you got out of that old black car. Thank you for bringing me here to meet your grandparents. I loved seeing Byron’s work in his own handwriting. It was a moment I’ll never forget. Please know your grandfather’s secret is safe with me.”
“You’re not going to tell your coworkers?”
“Much as I would love to claim I’d come across something of great worth from Byron, in this case it’s not my secret to give away, not even to my friends. You told me your grandfather has kept this quiet all these years. It’s his secret to keep.
“To be honest, it means much more to me to meet the two people who’ve had such a great impact on your life.”
“As long as you don’t think I’m the con artist par excellence, I’ll sleep better tonight.”
“Raoul—” She leaned across the seat and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for today, for everything. I’ll cherish these moments and this book forever.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “I’ve done my part, but we haven’t talked about your flight to Venice. Have you booked it yet?”
She fought to stifle the pounding of her heart. “No. I didn’t know how long we’d be with your grandparents.” The thought of leaving him was too painful to consider.
“In that case, would you be willing to attend a funeral service with me first? It starts at noon. I’d rather not go alone. We’ll deal with your flight after.”
She couldn’t think about leaving right now. “That’s why you’re dressed in black!”
“Yes. It’s for one of the estate employees.”
Maybe heaven had heard her because she’d been given a reprieve. “After what you’ve done for me, how could I turn you down?” she answered without hesitation. Besides wanting to be with him, she knew any funeral would be painful for him to get through. If it helped him to be with her, it was the least she could do when he’d given her a gift beyond price.
He kissed her hungrily. “Do you have something black you can wear?”
Abby nodded. “One all-purpose black dress in my small, pitiful wardrobe.”
“Then I’ll drive you to your apartment and wait while you change.”
She slid back to the passenger side, dying inside because he’d been the one to ask her if she’d booked her flight to Italy yet. He’d brought the subject up first. Did it mean he was prepared to let her go? It hit her hard that leaving him was the last thing she wanted to do. Abby was in terrible trouble.
CHAPTER SIX
WHILE RAOUL SAT in his car in front of Abby’s apartment, his cell phone rang. His brows furrowed to discover it was his brother. He picked up.
“Jean-Marc?”
“Rumors are that you haven’t phoned Solange about tonight’s dinner since you got back from Switzerland!” he blurted without preamble.
Raoul’s hand tightened around his phone. “Now that you’ve gotten that off your chest, did you see the text I sent you earlier?”
“I haven’t checked my messages.”