‘Perhaps you think, because of the intimacies we’ve shared, that I’m someone whose finer feelings can be played upon. Well, don’t. Let me be clear—all intimacies are over but the agreement is not. So you’d better still be here tomorrow, because we will be announcing our engagement at the party.’
Benoit speared her with a stare, as if to make sure that Skye understood his warning, before throwing something onto the bed beside her case and stalking from the room.
Skye felt as if the earth was shifting beneath her feet. She hurt for the little boy whose mother had abandoned him, who made him make a promise not to cry. A boy who grew into a man who was betrayed again by his girlfriend with his brother. And then by her.
She had done exactly as all those people who had hurt him had—taken what they wanted and left. Or planned to.
As much as she wanted to deny it, she had been about to run away.
Because, if she was honest, she’d never thought she’d actually find the map. Yes, she’d desperately hoped and prayed for her mother’s sake. But the reality of it? Actually finding it? It had been inconceivable. Because that would mean not only that they might be able to find those jewels, but that she would actually have to marry Benoit.
And in some ways not finding the map had made that easier. It had been her get-out clause. It meant that she’d never have to face the fact that she’d marry a man who would never love her. So no, Benoit was wrong. She wasn’t running away because of her sisters. She was running from her feelings for him. Because they terrified her. More than anything.
She crossed the room to her bed and picked up the object he had thrown there earlier. It was the ring they had found with the map. The citrine crystal that Benoit had given to Catherine before he’d left England all those years ago glinted in the low lighting of the room.
It had been meant to be her engagement ring Skye now realised as she sank onto the bed, the strange synchronicity touching her heart and breaking it at the same time. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and as she leaned back against the headboard she felt paper crumple in her back pocket.
The letter from Benoit’s great-great-grandfather. As carefully as she could, she retrieved the aged envelope and with shaking hands began to read.
Dear Ms Soames,
Please forgive the assumption of the address. I can only assume that Catherine is right in her faith and belief—as she has been in so many things—that it will be a female member of her family who will eventually unearth what she has hoped to have hidden. It is a hope we both share.
How does one explain such a thing to someone who is not yet born, and may not be for some years? It is almost unimaginable. But safe to say that this hope is one born of love. For Catherine, love of her future family, and for me... Love of her.
I have been truly blessed with my wife and family and would not change a single step on the path that led me to them. But Catherine—her strength, her determination, and the joy that shines through those two qualities... She was an incredible person and I feel lucky to have known her.
Ours was an impossible love. We knew it before we acted on it, during and most acutely after we were forced to part ways. Perhaps in the future, society’s decrees will be less rigid, marriages will be less confined by duty and class, and love will be less judged. I hope that will be the case, so very much.
For Catherine, the Soames jewels have been a heavy weight to bear. They have brought only cruel, desperate men to her door. Her wish—our wish—is that you find the jewels that are rightfully yours and that they bring you great peace and true love.
You are our hopes and our dreams.
Always,
BC
Noticing the use of the same code that she and her sisters had seen in Catherine’s diaries, she traced her fingers over the underlined letters on the page. And the message ran over and over in her mind as she put aside the letter and retrieved the ring. She was humbled and overwhelmed by a message over one hundred and fifty years old that was full of love, compassion and understanding.
And as her heart was torn between what she felt she should do for her sisters and what she wanted to do for Benoit, it broke a little. He was right. Her sisters would be fine. They would always be fine because she had done that for them, given them a security she had never felt herself. A small part of her realised then that the instinct to go to them was learned, was ingrained and habitual. She thought of the way Benoit had drawn her out in Costa Rica. Just one day, and over five thousand miles ago.
She slipped the citrine ring onto her engagement finger, a surprised sigh escaping her lips as it fitted perfectly. Her sisters had the map; they had what they needed to take the next step to finding the Soames jewels. It was Benoit who needed her now.
As she shifted back onto the bed, the message from Benoit’s letter settled into her heart.
Go with love.
Skye hadn’t seen Benoit all day. She’d slept late, grabbed some lunch and wandered the garden, looking for traces of Benoit’s childhood and not quite finding any. Wandering through the beautiful chateau had only made her feel more in the way and uncomfortable as uniformed staff members hustled and bustled about in preparation for what looked to be a spectacular event. So eventually she’d retreated to her rooms and pored over the pages of Catherine’s diaries that Summer had typed up and emailed.
Her heart ached for her ancestor, who’d loved a man she would never have been allowed to marry. And here Skye was, about to marry a man who might never love her. To marry a man she was beginning to fear that she really did love. Because the Benoit she had seen in Costa Rica, the incredible man who had drawn her out and shown her what she could be, the man who only hurt here at the chateau, a man convinced that selfishness was at the root of everything, yet he had only given to her...that man deserved her love.
Skye cast a glance at the dresses magically procured by Benoit’s assistant, and she frowned. They were all perfectly fine, gorgeous even, but not quite...
A knock sounded at the door and her heartbeat picked up.
Benoit.
But as she opened the door to find Anaïs standing there Skye forced down the disappointment and hoped that it didn’t show on her face. The little dog yapped a greeting from where he was nestled in her arms and, with an amused eye roll, Anaïs released him to explore Skye’s room, dotingly watching as he raced about searching for invisible treats.