Forbidden by Susan Johnson (good books to read for teens .TXT) 📕

"On my word, darling. Promise."

Her face lit with joy, warming his heart with a magic happiness he always thought of as his "twin sunshine." "Dry your eyes now," he said, offering her his handkerchief. "Henri will be back with your sparkling water and he'll wonder what I said to you to make you cry."

"He knows I'm going to miss you awfully, Papa. He was the one who suggested we fit up an apartment for you right away, so you'll be sure to come and visit."

"You're happy with Henri?" the Duc quietly asked, his simple question encompassing a collective query.

"Yes, ever and ever so much. He loves me, Papa, more than his polo, he says. And you know what an enormity that is." Her smile was suggestive and womanly suddenly. "Like you love Daisy?"

"Yes, much more than polo," he softly agreed.

"And Bourges will set you free." Her voice held the optimism of her good spirits.

"I'm sure he will." This wasn't the time to mention the change of venue had been blocked and Isabelle's magistrate interview postponed for the third time.

Henri interrupted then, walking into the stateroom with a bucket of ice and Jolie's favorite brand of sparkling water, at which point the conversation shifted to more pleasant anecdotes on the business of polo ponies. And when the Duc had finally to leave, for sailing was imminent, he bent down to give Hector a last hug.

"Want come with me, Granpapa?" Hector asked as Etienne released his hold, his toddler eyes, green like his mother's, wide with inquiry. His little face was questioning and serious. "Want come, Granpapa?" he coaxed.

The Duc fought back his tears, wondering how he was going to survive the coming months without his daily visit with Hector, knowing he was going to miss the companionship of his grandson, his joyful laughter, his curiosity, his hugs and wet kisses. "I can't leave right now, Hector, but I'll come to see you soon."

"Come now. Granpapa come now, Mama. Tell him." He looked to his mother for confirmation of his wishes.

Lifting her son from the floor, Jolie held him in her arms and carefully explained, "Granpapa can't now, sweetheart. But he will soon."

The little boy's face collapsed in sorrow as he realized Etienne was leaving. "No! Granpa, come with! Don't go, Granpa!" Reaching out for Etienne, his little voice was sharp with alarm, his tears agonizing for Etienne to see. Hugging him quickly, Etienne promised to visit very soon, and with a poignant smile for his daughter and Henri, the Duc fled the stateroom.

Several moments passed in the quiet of the corridor before he composed himself sufficiently to walk away from the wailing terror of Hector's cries. Pausing some distance away at the base of the stairway leading down from the first-class section, he leaned back against the polished wood paneling and inhaled deeply.

In the last week he'd lost every person he cared about in the world and a wrenching loneliness assailed him. Shutting his eyes briefly, he gathered the disorder of his emotions into a manageable perception, shaky perhaps and raw with pain, but obedient to reason.

This wasn't a permanent loss, he reminded himself, only a temporary one. He'd visit Hector and Jolie and Henri before too long. Justin would be back from Egypt in only a month. But contemplation of Daisy's leaving didn't yield so easily to facile reason. Unless she chose to return to France, he wouldn't see her again until—Bourges's face appeared in his mind's eye, somber, touched with disbelief—their change of venue had been denied.

It was impossible, Felicien had said, for the petition to have been refused when the Duc fulfilled all the requirements for residency—impossible. They would appeal. He'd immediately draw up the necessary papers.

"Find out how much Isabelle paid the magistrate," Etienne had curtly said, "and then offer the bastard ten times that amount.Enough for him to retire—which he'll have to," the Duc had added, "because he'll never be allowed to serve again… as long as Charles or any of the Monarchists stay in power.

Which series of corrupt long-standing political alliances, the Duc understood, might not succumb to nonmonarchist money.

Making the possibility of seeing Daisy infinitely more remote.

He'd written her several times already, after having realized a telegraph message of affection wouldn't be private. He was tempted to ask her to meet him somewhere, anywhere in America convenient to her, but he wasn't entirely sure she'd agree. Overcome with an unfamiliar trepidation for the first time in his life, he was uncertain of a woman's feelings. Daisy had claimed to love him, but she'd also chosen to leave him.

Not a bolstering thought.

Heeding the warning whistle for visitors to disembark, he pushed away from the wall and mechanically followed the flow of traffic ashore. Ten minutes later found him seated in a bistro with a harbor view, a cognac in hand. The bottle on the table was already half empty when the ship slipped from sight below the purple-tinged horizon. But when the small party of Parisians entered the busy establishment shortly after, caught sight of him, and made for his table, he was sufficiently restored to smile at their cry of recognition.

Formonde and Vanier were escorting two young women he didn't immediately identify until their faces came into view beneath their large-brimmed hats. Vanier's sister and sister-in-law, he noted, recalling Theo, the elder Vanier brother had been called to Quebec to oversee some family business.

"Are Jolie and Henri off now?" Formonde inquired in cheerful accents, the activities of mutual acquaintances within the society of Parisian aristocracy common knowledge.

"On their way," Etienne politely replied, not entirely sure he was in the mood for company.

Having signaled for a waiter, Vanier gave his order for champagne while the ladies seated themselves in a flutter of silk ruffles, wafting perfume, and trilling laughter. While greetings were exchanged, Theo's wife winked at Etienne.

The overture startled him at first, as though he'd been so long removed from the amorous chase, he'd forgotten the rules. He pondered briefly how to deal