Page 99 of A Convenient Fiction

Never had anything been so important. He was determined to get it right.

And—for the next two hours—it seemed as if he did.

They ate a sumptuous meal of jardinière soup and sautéed filets mignon of beef, and they drank a bottle of Bordeaux. He told her about Paris. About the sights they could see, and the things they could do. Carriage rides along the Champs-Élysées. A picnic on the banks of the Seine. A visit to the music hall or the theatre.

“What about your birthday?” he asked. “Is there anything particular you’d like to do to celebrate?”

She sat across from him at the small, linen-covered table, her face aglow in the candlelight. “It’s enough to be here with you.”

“I’m pleased you think so. But we must do something to honor the day.” He refilled her wineglass. “What did you do last year?”

“Nothing extraordinary. Aunt Charlotte helped Mrs. Crabtree to bake a fruitcake. And Teddy gave me a drawing he’d done of Magpie.” Her fingers toyed with the stem of her glass. “I’ve never had a birthday apart from them.”

“Are you going to miss them tomorrow?”

“I already miss them.”

“Then I shall have to endeavor to distract you. What do you say to a champagne supper and dancing at the Salle Valentino?”

Her brows lifted. “The Salle Valentino? That sounds very grand.”

“It’s a fashionable dancing hall in the Rue St Honoré. It has a circular ballroom with an orchestra in the center. They play waltzes, quadrilles, any dance you can think of. And one needn’t keep as much distance from their partner as at the assembly rooms in Margate.”

Her mouth curved up at one corner. “Aunt Charlotte warned me about Parisian dancing.”

“Yes, it’s quite risqué. Good thing we’re married.”

A blush rose in her cheeks. She raised her glass to take a sip of wine, but there was no disguising the fact that he’d flustered her.

He felt a little flustered himself. Uncertain of how best to proceed. “There’s no cause to go immediately to Grasse, is there? We can enjoy the city for another day or two. Longer if you like.”

She set down her glass. “Must we decide now?”

“Not at all. We can wait and see, if you prefer.” He didn’t press her on the subject. Not yet. So much hinged on their wedding night. If things went well between them, no doubt Laura would wish to linger in Paris. To enjoy the city as lovers. And if not…

Well.

He’d escort her to Grasse without delay.

After dinner, they repaired to the sitting room for coffee. Laura sat down on the sofa. She unfastened the top button of her bodice. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until the footman brought in our dinner.”

“I trust it met with your approval.”

“To put it mildly. It was the richest food I’ve ever eaten—and the best. I believe they must soak everything in wine and butter and cream.”

“I believe you’re right.” He came to sit down beside her. Her skirts bunched against the side of his leg. “Laura,” he began.

“Have you enjoyed living abroad all of these years?” she asked at the same time.

They both laughed and begged the other’s pardon. Two nervous newlyweds, Alex thought grimly. The tension in the air was palpable. He would have to take charge of things soon, for better or worse.

“To answer your question,” he said, “it’s all I’ve known.”

She looked into his eyes. “Did you never yearn for home?”

“I’ve never had a home to yearn for.” He took her hand gently in his. “Not until you.”

Her bosom rose and fell on a breath. “Oh Alex, I wish…”