Belle - Lesley Pearse [218]
But it had been Etienne’s visits that had brought on her full recovery. He would come in with pastries, fruit or some other little treat and sit beside her bed and tell her things he’d read in the newspapers that day. She found herself telling him some of the funnier stories about the girls at Martha’s, and he told her tales about some of the villains he’d known in the past. He did eventually speak about the fire, and how low he’d sunk afterwards, but he was keener to talk about his plans for his little farm, and to get her to talk about her dream of having her own hat shop.
Mostly, however, they talked about inconsequential things, the sights they’d seen together in New York, books they’d read and other places they’d like to see. He was so easy to be with, he didn’t fire questions at her, didn’t ask what she was thinking. And he never gave her the idea that he was growing bored in her company.
She finally got to see Paris in the spring too, for once she was allowed to go back to the Mirabeau, Etienne had taken her out sight-seeing.
Paris had been grey and wintry in all her time there, but now trees were bright with pink or white blossom, and the sun shone down on flower beds alight with red and yellow tulips. People had abandoned their heavy, drab winter clothing, and it was good to see them strolling along the tree-lined boulevards, the ladies in elegant pastel dresses and lovely spring-like hats. Even the gentlemen sported lighter-coloured suits.
They’d enjoyed a boat trip on the Seine and a walk in the Bois de Boulogne, seen Versailles and been up the Eiffel Tower. It felt almost as if they were courting, the way other couples all around them were.
But Belle was only too aware she couldn’t ever hope for that kind of sweet relationship, not after all she had done. She heard girls giggling and squealing on the platform at the top of the Eiffel Tower. She’d noted the way their men held their waists protectively as they looked down at the panoramic view of Paris so far below. She could giggle just as they did, Etienne could hold her the same way, but the sum total of all they knew about the seamier side of life prevented an innocent romance.
‘I will write, but I warn you my written English is not good,’ Etienne said. ‘But it is not wise for me to come to England. I will always be a reminder of the past and that is not good for you.’
Belle looked at him in consternation. She knew by the break in his voice that his heart was saying something quite different to his words.
‘But I need you,’ she pleaded, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Are you telling me you want me to forget you?’
‘You must try, little one,’ he said. ‘As I must try too, for I know I am not the man you need.’
The guard blew his whistle then to warn everyone the train was leaving. Noah yelled from the train window that Belle was to hurry.
‘You must go. Your family awaits you in England,’ Etienne said.
She wanted to stamp her feet and refuse to go until he admitted he loved her and promised that they could be together in a few weeks. But she sensed by the sadness in his eyes that he would never say that, for he believed he was doing the right thing for her.
‘Then just say one last thing in French to me,’ she asked, standing on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips.
He caught hold of her face between his two hands and kissed her back with unbearable sweetness. ‘Je défie les incendies, les inondations, et même l’enfer pour être avec vous,’ he whispered as he let her go. ‘Now, the train. Go!’
Belle began to move towards the carriage door where Noah was standing beckoning frantically. She turned to look one last time at Etienne. ‘Au revoir, mon héros,’ she said, and saw that his eyes were swimming with tears, just like hers.
‘Belle, come now!’ Noah yelled as the guard waved his flag for the train to leave.
Etienne had to bundle her into the train as it began to move. She