‘And I always will.’
‘I love you, Leonora. I thought I loved Alicia, but now I know the difference.’ He took her hand and placed it on his heart. ‘The difference is here.’ Overcome by a desperate need to make up for the time he had lost and to reassure himself that he would never be without her, he asked her to marry him. Much to their surprise his proposal felt entirely appropriate.
‘Yes, I will marry you,’ she replied, blinking away her joy. ‘I can’t believe this is happening to me. I’ve loved you for so long, I’ve grown accustomed to it being unrequited.’
‘You’ll never feel that again. I’m going to dedicate my life to making you happy.’
‘Oh, Florien, I don’t deserve you.’
‘How wrong you are. You’ve been kind to me from the moment we met as children. I’ll never forget your kindness. Besides, we both love all the same things. We love the countryside, the garden, nature, dogs, horses. We love this beautiful old house of your aunt’s. We love the wide-open spaces and the freedom that being a gypsy gives us. We can go anywhere we want to. All we need is our caravan and our horses. We hate cities, smog and noise. You see, we’re two sides of the same coin. You’re not a gypsy, but I’m going to make you one.’
Leonora was so full of happiness she felt she might explode at any minute. ‘When will you ask for my hand?’ she asked.
‘What?’
‘You have to ask my father’s permission.’ Florien suddenly turned cold. He saw his dreams dissolve before his very eyes. Her father would never allow her to marry a gypsy. Leonora read his thoughts. ‘Daddy will give you permission. The way Alicia carries on he’ll be thrilled that at least one of us is settling down. As for the gypsy life, if I’m happy he won’t mind how I live.’ She wanted to add that she barely knew her father, having only ever seen him for a few weeks every year. He no longer had any influence over her.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. The person to worry about is not Daddy, but Alicia.’ At the sound of those words Florien’s heart warmed up again.
‘Do you think she’ll mind?’
‘I’m afraid she will. She’s very possessive. Even if the two of you no longer love one another, you were her love once. She’ll be mortified.’
‘What should we do?’
‘Nothing,’ she replied in a determined voice. Florien wanted her to elaborate but Leonora was too loyal to say a word against her sister. Instead she said simply, ‘We must both be very kind.’
‘She’ll come down and see you, won’t she?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Of course she will. The minute she hears she’ll be down. She’s just come back from Antibes where she’s been with her latest man. I can’t remember his name because they change so often. No point remembering really. If she’s had a good time she’ll be happy for us. If she’s grown tired of the poor man, she’ll be furious. Let’s hope she’s happy. Alicia’s always better when she’s happy.’
The thought of Alicia with another man caused Florien to go rigid with bitterness, but he was careful not to let his anger show. He recalled her words, said so carelessly in the woods, I took lovers when I felt like it. Lots of them. And they still festered somewhere at the bottom of his pride. He hoped his engagement to her sister would hurt her. He hoped she’d regret letting him go. He hoped she’d want him back, because it was now too late. He didn’t want her; but he wanted revenge.
The following morning Leonora borrowed Aunt Cicely’s car to drive to her parents’ small house on the coast. She had left her aunt consumed with curiosity for she had never seen Leonora’s face so pretty and glowing with happiness. She guessed it might have something to do with Florien. Only a man had the power to make a woman glow like that. She knew. She had glowed like that once. Now when she looked at herself in the mirror she resembled a dusty old reptile. But reptiles were survivors.
Leonora drove down the little winding lane that meandered its way through the village like a gentle stream. The houses were pretty with painted white walls ablaze with roses and butterflies, honeysuckle and bees and crying gulls hovered in the sky above the sea beyond where there were fish to eat and cliffs to nest in. The air was fresh and tasted of salt. Cecil and Audrey’s house stood at the end of the village, set apart from the other cottages, beside a narrow sandy path that led down to the beach. The village was quiet, only a fat ginger cat lay sleeping on one of the window sills in the sunshine.