A Wedding in Provence: From the #1 bestselling author of uplifting feel-good fiction
A Wedding in Provence: Chapter 35

Apart from her lack of an engagement ring, there was one other thing that was worrying Alexandra.

‘Are you ever going to be able to give up work and devote yourself to the farm and the chateau?’ she asked as she folded her legs neatly into the back of the car.

‘I have left Véronique in charge, and told her she can consult me as often as she needs to but that I’ll only go away once a year, and never for more than a month.’

‘And is she happy with that?’

He shrugged. ‘She has to be – she’s certainly pleased about being in charge. I just hope Stéphanie will be happy too!’

‘I am sorry to have missed Jack and Penelope’s wedding and seeing the girls in their bridesmaids’ dresses.’

‘There will be photographs,’ said Antoine, sounding a bit distracted.

Alexandra wondered if he was worrying about earning enough money for the family, the chateau and the farm. She thought of her own fortune, which he would have access to when they were married. Would she ever be able to mention it? He was proud; he wanted to provide for his wife and his family. Her money would have to be introduced by stealth, she realised. But she’d manage. She looked out of the window and tried to enjoy the drive.

‘You don’t need to worry,’ he whispered as they stood waiting for the door to be opened. ‘I’ve told her all about you.’

‘That doesn’t help!’ It mattered to her hugely that as Antoine’s prospective bride, who already had so many marks against her (English, too young, his children’s nanny), didn’t do or say anything out of place. ‘In fact, it probably makes it worse!’

The door was opened by the manservant to reveal an apartment very like Donna and Bob’s, only this one was full of antiques. It looked to Alexandra as if a museum had had to move to smaller premises but had left nothing behind.

Although Antoine was currently staying there, they were ushered through to the salon with all due ceremony to meet his godmother.

La Comtesse de Saint-Hubert was tiny, wearing a skirt and jacket that she’d probably had since before the war, and would definitely have come from one of the top Paris fashion houses. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her diamonds were enormous. Alexandra held on to Antoine’s arm a bit tighter. She’d never been particularly impressed by class or wealth and felt perfectly relaxed about spending time in stately homes. But this time it mattered if she was approved of or not.

La Comtesse de Saint-Hubert insisted on speaking in highly accented English and reminded Alexandra of Mme Wilson, who had taught her cooking in England and where she had met her two best friends.

Introductions were made, champagne was offered and accepted (gratefully) and everyone was seated.

‘Well, my dear Alexandra – I may call you that? I have taken the liberty of looking up your family – you are to be marrying my godson who is very dear to me – and I am pleased to discover that yours is a family I know of.’ She inclined her head graciously.

Had Alexandra been standing up she’d have curtseyed.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Antoine. ‘It would never have done for me to marry someone who wasn’t of noble birth.’

‘You tease, Antoine, but these matters are very serious.’

‘I apologise, Godmother.’

‘I am so sorry about your parents,’ the Countess went on, addressing Alexandra. ‘A tragedy.’

‘I don’t remember—’

‘These things happen. Think about little Stéphanie’s parents.’

Alexandra nodded. She was not expected to wring her hands over her misfortune. The stiff upper lip was not just an English concept, she realised.

‘And now I have seen you for myself I can see it was not just your fortune that attracted Antoine to you.’

‘Godmother, please!’

‘He didn’t know about my fortune when we met,’ Alexandra pointed out.

A perfect eyebrow ascended a little. ‘He may say that, but he could have found out, had he done a little research.’

Antoine was obviously becoming increasingly embarrassed by his elderly relation. ‘Godmother! You know perfectly well that I didn’t do any research.’

The eyebrow was raised again and she turned back to Alexandra. ‘Can you tell me why you aren’t wearing an engagement ring? I have several family pieces that would be suitable—’

‘I have Alexandra’s ring here,’ said Antoine, patting his pocket. ‘It has been cleaned and made to fit.’

But it fitted perfectly when he bought it, Alexandra thought, hoping it still would.

‘I hope it is appropriate,’ said the Countess.

Alexandra could only hope that she had failing eyesight and wouldn’t instantly see it was a cheap if very pretty ring.

Antoine took a ring box out of his pocket and took Alexandra’s hand. Deftly he opened the box. Inside was not the one Alexandra had chosen, it was the first ring, the one she had pulled back from.

He took it out of the box and slid it on to her finger. ‘There,’ he said. ‘A perfect fit.’

She gasped. On her finger was the large, cushion cut diamond surrounded by gold with blue enamel. It was absolutely beautiful.

‘Show me, please.’

Alexandra crossed the room so that her ring could be inspected. ‘Not bad. Not quite what a future countess should have on her hand, but not bad.’

Alexandra took her hand back and returned to her seat. She kissed Antoine’s cheek. ‘It’s wonderful! Thank you so much! How did you know—’

‘That this was the ring you really wanted? I saw you look at it, check the price and go for a cheaper option. I bought both rings so I could get the size right for your proper ring.’

‘I don’t understand,’ said the Countess, ‘why did you have to buy two rings? Surely the jeweller would measure your finger?’

Alexandra looked to Antoine to answer this one.

‘We bought it from a market stall, Godmother.’

‘It’s always been a romantic dream for me,’ Alexandra explained, to support him. ‘To buy an engagement ring from an antiques market.’

The Countess obviously thought she was mad. ‘English girls! They are very different.’ Another thought struck her. ‘Antoine, I understand your fiancée is – unusual – in many ways, but I trust you and she won’t be living under the same roof when you return to Provence? It would be very wrong.’

Alexandra took a breath. If it had been all right for them to share a home when she was just the nanny, what was different now? But a second later she realised it was different in every way.

‘We don’t plan a long engagement,’ said Antoine.

‘And I have an older English friend who lives in the town. I am sure I can stay with her until we are married,’ said Alexandra. She couldn’t remember if Jack and Penelope were going on a honeymoon or not, but she was sure she could arrange something.

‘Good! I am reassured,’ said the Countess. ‘Shall we go through for lunch?’