“You lived at Langford Hall after you were married?”
“Yes. I’d always loved it. All that history. It was much older than our house—it was completed in 1799. Ours only dated back to Queen Victoria. So many nooks and crannies and things to explore. And in which to hide from my brothers when they’d discovered some horrid spider to put down my back. Kit would always find me first, but he’d never tell on me. He was kind that way.”
Drew took my hand. “My father only had the best things to say about Kit. I wish I could have known him.”
I smiled, trying to imagine them meeting and couldn’t. It was a bit like two different worlds traveling on a perpetual parallel path. “Langford Hall also has the folly where Kit’s father would go write. It could only be reached by a little bridge his father had built because he refused to row across water after surviving the Lusitania. It was so pretty—I used to pretend a fairy prince and princess lived there.” I smiled into my cup, remembering. “There was a small family of beautiful swans that lived on the lake. They were rather wretched creatures, always nipping at one’s fingers when you fed them breadcrumbs. I suppose they hadn’t been taught the old adage about not biting the hand that feeds you.” I spread butter and marmalade on my scone as I remembered the swans and my mother-in-law’s intense dislike of one of the females she named Caroline.
“There had always been swans on the lake, almost as long as there had been whippets at Langford Hall. It’s why the signet ring Kit inherited from his father had the swans engraved on the top. They were the unofficial emblem of the Langfords of Langford Hall. At least until the war.”
“And what happened then?” He’d stopped chewing, anticipating my response.
“We ate them.” I shrugged. “We were hungry, and they were readily available and not rationed. I remember them being quite tasty.”
Drew let out a hearty laugh, and I joined him, although it didn’t eradicate my guilt. It was the reason we hadn’t had them replaced. It was as if we’d betrayed them in some way and didn’t deserve them anymore.
“Do you miss New York?” I asked, half dreading the answer although I wasn’t sure why.
He sat back in his chair and drew a deep breath. “Not as much as I thought I might. But I need to get back. I was only supposed to be in Paris for two weeks. I’ve been dragging my feet about buying my plane tickets because we haven’t solved the mystery of La Fleur. I hate to leave behind unfinished business.”
I washed down my bite of scone with tea, and it all tasted like paper. “Unfinished business?”
He leaned forward, his expression earnest. “I wasn’t referring to you, Babs. You are . . .” He stopped, shook his head. “I can’t really describe you. Or the way you make me feel. It’s like trying to describe the pull of the moon, or the light from the sun, I guess. Just seeing your face in the morning makes my day brighter. Hearing your voice, even when you’re speaking in that funny accent when you’re trying to speak French, makes me feel like I’m home.”
I couldn’t speak for a moment, afraid my raw emotions would show up as tears, or in a confession that I felt the same. But I couldn’t make this—whatever this was—more complicated that it already was. We were separated by more than just an ocean, but also by the specter of a stolen letter that floated unseen between us. A piece of paper that would show Drew that I wasn’t who he thought I was.
I swallowed. “But you need to get back to New York.”
“Yes, Babs. I do. I wasn’t sure how to tell you, or when the right time might be, but . . .” He drew a deep breath. “My plane leaves tonight.”
A horrible stabbing pain that felt almost worse than childbirth tore at my insides as the implications of what he had just said settled on me. I took my own deep breath, bringing to mind what it was like to head a WI meeting and to bring up an unpleasant topic. “Well, then,” I said, proud of how calm my voice sounded, “I say we cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now I’m going to suggest we get dressed and leave this room and see if the world outside still exists.”
“If we go early enough, I might still be able to take you to Maxim’s for an early dinner.”
“We just ate, Drew. How can you be thinking of dinner already?”
He gave me a grin that could only be described as wicked. “What can I say? You make me hungry, Babs. But you’re right. We need to bathe and get dressed.”