Abby took a shuddering breath. “How much do they know about us?” she asked before putting it away.
“I rang them from Switzerland before we left La Floraison and told them I’d met a woman who had already changed my life.”
Raoul, her heart cried. So that was the reason she’d given the book to Abby. She couldn’t believe he’d shared something so personal with them before bringing her to France. “They...were wonderful and accepting in a way I can’t describe.”
“That’s who they are. Looking at them yesterday made me realize their time is short.”
She put the book back in her purse. Abby had yet to contact her own parents and tell them she wasn’t with the girls, that she’d driven to France with a stranger and was out of her mind in love.
“I take it you were speaking to some of André’s relatives.”
“His grandson and wife. He fears he doesn’t have what it takes to fill his grandfather’s shoes. I’ve said what I can to reassure him.”
“Wait and see. Knowing how you feel about him will go a long way to helping him, Raoul.”
“One can hope.”
“You have a way with people or they wouldn’t revere you so highly. Once in a while you should accept a compliment. Or doesn’t mine count?”
“More than you know. But as you’ve discovered, I’ve brought you to a hornet’s nest.”
“Except you can’t say that about your grandparents. They adore you and I can see why they mean so much to you. But it hurts me for your sake that you and your parents don’t have the same relationship.”
“Papa wants things from me I can no longer give him.”
“Like what?”
“He’s expecting me to marry Solange.”
“But that doesn’t make sense.”
“I know, but you try telling my father.”
“Has he ever been happy?” she asked.
“Yes. When I married Angélique.”
“So Solange is second best.”
“He believes she will fill the role adequately.”
Abby shook her head. “I’ll never understand that kind of thinking.”
“I didn’t understand it from the cradle.”
They left the cemetery behind. Once out on the open road they passed one charming village after another. Abby loved the scented breeze that ruffled their hair. With a disheveled look, Raoul was almost too breathtaking.
But this wasn’t like the carefree drive they’d taken from Switzerland to Burgundy. Her whole body and soul ached for the love of this unique man who exuded a melancholy brought on by many things.
When they reached Cluny, they parked and walked around the monastery where there were crowds of tourists. Raoul wasn’t in a mood to talk except to make a few comments about its history. For once he didn’t reach for her hand. Not only the physical, but the mental separation was killing her. She took a few pictures of Raoul along with the abbey, then put her phone away.
“Are you ready to go back?”
She nodded and they walked to his car. Once he’d helped her inside, he asked her where she would like to eat. “Can we do what we did at the border? Buy some picnic food and eat it in the car on the way home?”
Without saying a word, he drove to an épicerie where they bought a small feast of finger foods and drinks. Then they were off again. The silence tore her apart. By the time they returned to the estate and he parked in front of the petit château, she was worried about him but didn’t know how to help him.
For once he didn’t get out of the car. He didn’t plan to walk her to the door.