Forever Waiting by DeVa Gantt Read Free Book Online

out his window, Yvette crept deeper into the woods, picking her way through brambles and underbrush and arcing around to Spook. Once she’d led him safely to the road, she kicked him into a gallop, frowning when she realized she didn’t have her riding crop. It couldn’t be helped; she’d dropped it along the way and would have to complain about misplacing it the next time she went out to ride. All told, she’d been gone just over an hour and was back in bed when Rose came in to check on her again, exclaiming the nap had helped. She felt much better now and was hungry for dinner.
    Sunday, January 28, 1838
    Paul snapped the portfolio shut. He and his father had spent two hours poring over Charmantes paperwork, and he was of a mind to pass the rest of the day in a leisurely manner. He’d arrived home late last night and, because he’d been on Espoir for the better part of the week, had promised Charmaine and his sisters at Mass this morning that he’d spend the afternoon with them. Time was getting on.
    “There is one thing more,” Frederic said as he stood to leave.
    Paul eyed him thoughtfully. His father seemed anxious. “Yes?”
    Frederic hesitated. “I’ve invited John home for your celebration.”
    “What? In God’s name, why?”
    “Jeannette and Yvette requested it.”
    Paul ran a hand through his hair. “He won’t come,” he said.
    Frederic was disheartened. “You are likely right, though I hope he does.”
    “For the girls’ sake,” Paul supplied.
    “And mine. I’d like to make amends, even at this late date.”
    “It wasn’t your fault. None of this was your fault.”
    “It was my fault,” Frederic refuted. “He loved her, Paul, more deeply than I wanted to believe.”
    Paul scoffed at the idea, but Frederic’s earnestness gave him pause.
    “Pierre’s death put everything into perspective,” Frederic continued, “everything. It was easier, safer, to discount John’s feelings. But in so doing, I made this place a living hell for everyone—including you. You were forced to choose sides, which undermined the camaraderie you once shared with John. I should never have stolen Colette from him.”
    “And Colette had no say in the matter?” Paul threw back at him.
    Frederic’s eyes hardened, but he didn’t respond.
    Exasperated, Paul exhaled loudly. “I don’t understand. He’s had months to stew over this tragedy. That’s all it was—a terrible tragedy. And now you unleash Pandora’s box? If he decides to come home, it won’t be to make amends.”
    “We shall see. All I ask is we try to move forward—as a family.”
    With his initial anger spent, Paul accepted his father’s plaintive plea and was moved to remorse. “Very well, Father. I’ll welcome him home. I just hope John accepts the invitation for what it is.”
    Wednesday, February 9, 1838
    Agatha had been holding interviews in the study for two days now. Since early Monday morning, a steady stream of villagers had made their pilgrimage to the manor in the hopes of securing one of the fifteen positions that would be available here and on Espoir during the weeklong festivities in April. An inside glimpse of the Duvoisin mansion was as much a motivation to make the nine-mile trek as the employment opportunity, for even those whose names did not make it into the mistress’s little book smiled as they left.
    Yvette and Jeannette stole away from the nursery many times during those two days, observing the strangers in the foyer or those walking up the drive. They conjured games, wagering over which ones would be selected.
    Travis escorted one after the other from entrance hall, to drawing room, to library. The few that gained Agatha’s approval were ushered into the ballroom, where they met with Jane Faraday or Fatima Henderson. The rest were released and walked to the portico, where they lingered before heading back to town.
    At the close of the day, Agatha shut her ledger and leaned back in her