The Cinderella Moment (30 page)

Instead, she asked, “Was Philip happy?”

“Happy enough, especially after you were born. His golden Lily, he used to call you, and until your mother became ill you were all he needed to make his marriage work.” The Comtesse’s face took on a haunted look. “But then Catherine died and that summer your father brought you here. You were five and he thought you’d be happier in this house for a time. Nicky was also here with his parents.”

“But that was the summer Philip took me to New York and never came back.”

“Yes.” The Comtesse smiled sadly. “I did not know then that it was to be your last summer in Paris—until now.”

“What happened?”

“Philip found out what I’d done. You see, Simone had written him a letter explaining why she was going away. She told him what I’d said and that she understood his decision to marry ‘one of his own class’ if that was his choice. But she also told him that she truly loved him and that if he felt the same way all he had to do was write to her in Brittany and she would come to him. She said that she would live with him, with or without marriage, if that was what he wanted. All she needed to know was that he’d truly meant all the things he’d said to her.”

“And did he write back?”

“No, because he never received her letter—at least, not then. He didn’t find it until that last summer in Paris.”

“But why?” cried Angel. “
Why
didn’t he get her letter?”

“I will show you.”

The Comtesse rose from her chair, crossed to one of the bookcases and pulled down an elegant volume bound in red Morocco leather. “This was their post-office: Jane Austen’s novel,
Persuasion
—an ironic choice as it turned out.” She let the book fall open. “They would leave their letters for each other in the back. Simone left her final letter for Philip the day after I confronted her. She returned to the house to collect her things and must have slipped in here to leave her letter in the one place she knew Philip would look.”

“And did he?”

“Yes. It was the first thing he did when I told him she’d left him for another man.”

“So why didn’t he find it?”

“Because somehow it ended up in the wrong book.” The Comtesse gestured to the bookcase. “As you can see, most of the volumes are bound in the same style. I cannot be sure, but I think that, in her haste, Simone put her letter in the wrong book. It is also possible that one of the maids let it drop when dusting the books and put it back where she thought best.”

“So that summer was when Philip found the letter?”

“Yes.” The Comtesse sat down again. “He confronted me with it and I had no choice but to tell him the whole story.” She gazed at Angel, the lace handkerchief crushed between her fingers and the tears rolling unheeded down her cheeks. “He has never forgiven me.”
 

Chapter Thirty-Two

Angel stared at her reflection and sighed. The dress was beautiful and the amethyst earrings and necklace lent to her by the Comtesse matched it perfectly. She was going to Nick’s birthday party—she ought to feel excited. Instead, she felt strained and anxious.

It hadn’t even helped that Maman had rung to say she was much better and coming home on Tuesday. Angel had been thrilled but it’d been hard to convey her excitement when all she could do was think about her mother and Philip.

It seemed to Angel as though her vision of the world had somehow rearranged itself. So much made sense to her now: Maman’s cool reserve with Philip de Tourney—the man she’d once loved so desperately—and her fierce loyalty to Angel’s father—the man she’d married on the rebound.

What a shock it must have been for Simone to come face-to-face with Philip in that restaurant on Times Square all those years ago. She wondered what they’d said to each other. Angel knew Maman wouldn’t have told him about Papa’s accident, his failed surgery or how she was working two jobs to try and make ends meet. But Philip was no fool and it wouldn’t have taken much for him to see how tired she was or to figure out that she was struggling financially.

Which was probably why he’d made her such an irresistible offer.

How hard it must have been for Maman to accept it.

To accept a home and a job and a salary from the man she believed had betrayed her. Angel couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have cost her.

But she’d done it for Yves and for Angel.

If only she’d told me, thought Angel. It hurt her a little that Simone had never told her about Philip. Especially after Papa had gone. But perhaps it had been too hard. Philip had broken her mother's heart and to speak of the past or share her pain was not something Simone would ever do.

She’d married Papa and they’d had Angel and she’d chosen to look forward, not back. And she’d been happy with Yves—Angel was sure of it.

Her childhood memories were of a golden vineyard where Papa and Maman would hold her hands and swing her up to where the clusters of plump purple grapes hung on the vines. Sometimes Papa would pick a grape and put it in her mouth; Angel could still remember the sharp sweetness of the juice as it burst across her tongue.

And then the tractor had slipped its gears and everything had changed.

Maman had loved Papa so much that when she'd learned of the surgeon in America who might help him she’d sold everything and moved them to New York. She'd believed the surgery would heal his broken body and, when the first operation hadn’t worked, she’d gone on believing right through the second and the third, until Papa had said “enough.” He’d known the money was almost gone and he’d hated seeing Maman endlessly struggling to try and restore what they’d lost.

Simone had refused to return to France. She'd been convinced that somewhere in America there was someone who could help Papa and she'd gone on working and believing that almost to the end.

It was Papa who’d urged Simone to accept Philip’s job offer. Had he known? Angel wondered suddenly. Had Papa known that Philip de Tourney was his wife’s first great love? Angel didn’t think so, and even if he had, there was no doubting Simone’s commitment to him and only him.

Philip must have known it too. Simone was married, for better or worse, and so he’d never told her about finding her letter five years too late.

Because it had been too late. For both of them.

And now?
wondered Angel as she brushed out her hair. Would it help if her mother knew the truth? It might make her happy to know that Philip had not betrayed her. It would almost be worth the risk to see Simone truly happy again.

Perhaps when she got back to New York, she'd tell her mother everything. Angel sighed. Maybe the truth would be the best thing for everyone.

She picked up her evening bag. It was time to leave for the Crillon.

***

Angel lifted her skirts and stepped from the Bentley. It was raining lightly and Henri held the umbrella high as she shook out her amethyst ruffles before joining the Comtesse under the hotel archway.

The Hotel de Crillon was a gracious grey stone building facing the Place de la Concorde and Angel paused for a moment to admire the view across the square: the cobblestones glistening in the rain, the great obelisk pointing skywards and all around it the beautiful city of Paris.

“Come along, Lily,” said the Comtesse.

As they moved through the hotel’s opulent foyer, staff and guests alike stopped to stare at them: Angel, the epitome of youth and loveliness, and Elena de Tourney, looking like an empress in a high-necked emerald-green silk evening gown exquisitely embroidered with myriad tiny glass beads that winked and flashed green fire.

They joined the receiving line where Nick and his parents were greeting their guests and Angel’s pulse quickened.

Nick was standing beside his father and Angel could see that it was from Lord Langham that Nick had inherited his broad shoulders, curly dark hair and engaging smile. Next to her husband, Nick’s mother, Georgiana, looked tiny. She had a heavy rope of thick chestnut hair and her son’s sparkling brown eyes and she smiled in delight when she saw Angel.

“Lily!” Lady Langham took her hand. “How lovely to see you at last. Nicholas has told us so much about you. How is darling Philip? Can it truly be eleven years since we were in touch? And here you are looking so grown-up.” Her eyes danced. “We are going to have a wonderful talk later, so Nicholas is not to monopolize you all night.”

Speechless, Angel nodded and moved down the receiving line to where Nick stood waiting.

He took her hand and said softly, “You look beautiful.”

“And you look handsome,” she replied, admiring his superbly cut black dinner suit.

“Thanks, I trust you noticed my tie?” He touched the elegant bow tie around his neck.

Angel stared. “But isn’t that
…?”

“Yes, exactly the same color as your dress. I asked Godmother to have it made especially.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

He grinned. “I was worried it might end up lime-green or orange with stripes or something equally hideous.”

“You obviously don’t think much of my taste in clothes,” retorted Angel.

“Well, you never can be sure,” Nick joked.

Angel looked around the crowded room. “I think everyone looks gorgeous.”

“Not as gorgeous as you.” He drew her towards him. “Let’s dance.”

“Shouldn’t you finish receiving your guests?” she asked anxiously, looking at his parents.

“I think it’s okay,” he replied, catching his mother’s eye. She smiled and gave a tiny nod. “We have the all clear,” said Nick triumphantly and swept Angel onto the dance floor.

It was a wonderful party. Angel moved through it as if in a dream and one that she was in no hurry to wake up from. Nick was in high spirits and, though mindful of his duties as host, seemed to want to spend every possible moment with her.

Everyone was there—Kitty and Giles and the rest of the summer season gang—all eager to celebrate Nick’s birthday in style.

“You certainly know how to throw a party,” she said, as they danced.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“It’s heavenly,” she replied.

“Well, that’s appropriate because you look like an angel.”

Angel’s smile faded. “Looks can be deceiving, you know.”

Nick shook his head. “Not in your case—you’re beautiful on the inside
and
on the outside.” He groaned at himself. “It sounds so soppy when I say it out loud, but it’s true.” He pulled her closer. “I can’t explain it, Lily, but I feel like I’ve known you all my life—and I don’t mean because our families are friends, I mean that I feel like I
really
know you—as though you were part of me.”

“If only that were true.” Angel gazed up at him, her blue eyes sombre. “But there are so many things you don’t know about me.” She hesitated. “Things that if you
did
know, they would probably make you change your mind about me.”

“Secrets, Lily?” said Nick, smiling. “I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would make me think badly of you.”

“Do you believe that?”

“Well, I can’t imagine that you’ve murdered anyone or robbed a bank or revealed government secrets—and I might even forgive you that last one.”

She stared at him, her forehead wrinkled with uncertainty. Could she really tell him the truth: that she wasn’t Lily de Tourney or even someone who belonged in his world? Would Nick still care for her if she told him that? Would he look at her with those melting brown eyes and hold her close if he knew she was a cook’s daughter?

Angel wanted to believe he would.

It suddenly occurred to her that she was far more like her mother than she thought and maybe that should be a warning, because Simone had believed that Philip de Tourney would love her against all the odds and look how their love affair had ended.

She was aware of Nick watching her, obviously puzzled by her silence and wanting her to tell him whatever it was that was troubling her. Then it seemed to Angel as though he could bear it no longer. He gently lifted her face to his, bent down and kissed her.

It was sweet and perfect and it filled Angel with breathless pleasure. As his lips left hers, Nick whispered, “I love you.”

A tidal wave of joy swept over her and she stared up at him in wonder. He loved her. Angel could hardly believe it was real. She hugged the words to herself and knew she had to tell him the truth. Now, before another minute passed.

“I love you, too, Nick,” she said. Freeing herself from his embrace, she stepped back and took his hand. “But there’s something I have to tell you.”

She led him towards the Crillon’s courtyard, but as she stepped through the doorway, Nick suddenly halted.

Angel turned, her gaze following Nick’s, and her heart stopped beating.