The Black Swan

The fact is, we are coming home. Mon pere is giving Celeste instructions because I’m to be married in London. I wish it were here in the chateau... but mon pere says no. We have to remember Bobby and he couldn’t very well be married in France. So ... London it is. I shall need you to help me with my trousseau. I’ve decided on the wedding dress. It’s going to be ... no, I won’t tell you. You don’t deserve it after the way you’ve behaved. Mon pere will tell Celeste what has to be done. It will be the wedding of the year. That is what we intend to make it.

You are a silly old thing... just going off like that. Mon pere says you thought you were intruding. What a lot of nonsense! He said you were mistaken, but he understood your feelings and he has forgiven you for going off like that. I haven’t though. Never mind. You shall help me to get ready.

Isn’t it fun? We are coming home next week, and by the time you get this it will be very near.

Till then,

Belinda

Celeste was a little dismayed when she read her letter.

“This wedding is going to be rather a grand affair,” she said. “My brother wants me to arrange it.”

“I gathered that from Belinda. She seemed very happy.”

Celeste nodded and continued to look worried. “You’ll help, won’t you, Lucie?” I thought of the peace of Cornwall in Rebecca’s company which I had been contemplating but there was pleading in Celeste’s eyes.

“I shall if I am of any use ... of course.”

I was rewarded by the immense relief in her eyes.

The Fitzgeralds were very interested when I told them the news.

“Do you think we shall be invited to the wedding?” asked Phillida.

Roland looked shocked but Celeste said quickly, “You are invited now.” Phillida clapped her hands. “What a wonderful day that was,” she said, “when we met on the Channel ferry.”

Rebecca understood now that I should not be accompanying her to Cornwall. “But you will come later on,” she said. “It will be something for us to look forward to.”

Belinda arrived at the house with Jean Pascal. I was not looking forward to seeing the latter but when he appeared he was so gracefully charming, and no reference was made to my unconventional departure from the chateau.

I was glad, however, that he did not stay at the house although I expected him to be there frequently during the coming weeks.

Belinda was in a state of bliss. She chattered endlessly and the subject was always that of the imminent wedding. She had changed the venue of the honeymoon five or six times.

First it was going to be Rome. “The catacombs and all that. The Colosseum. We shall see where the Romans sent the Christians to the lions.”

Then a few days later: “I don’t know. I don’t think I want to see all those old ruins. But I believe there is rather a nice fountain. You throw a coin in and it means you will come back. I think I’d rather like that. But perhaps... Florence.” Then we heard of the glories of Florence for a few days until she thought of Venice.

“All those canals. Fascinating. Drifting along in a gondola with a handsome gondolier.”

“You shouldn’t be interested in handsome gondoliers... only in your new husband.”

“I shall have to make him jealous... now and then, don’t you think?”

“No, I do not.”

“Of course you wouldn’t... and what do you know about it?”

“Enough to know that it is not a very propitious start to a honeymoon for the bride to be planning conquests of other men.”

She put out her tongue at me as she used to do when we were children.

Finally Venice was the favorite.

“Doesn’t poor Bobby get a choice?” I asked.

“He just wants to do what I want.”

“I can see that he is determined to keep you contented.”

She loved that sort of banter and she could get it only from me, I believe she was fond of me in a way, just as I was of her. In spite of everything that had happened, there was a bond between us and it was impossible to break it.

The days began to slip by. There was so much to do and it all seemed so important that I have to admit that there were periods-quite long ones-when I stopped thinking of my father and Joel.