Forbidden Susan Johnson (english love story books txt) 📖

and we can use your advice on a thousand details. And," she added, her enthusiasm alight in her eyes, "with Justin in Egypt and Daisy gone to America and now us, there's nothing to keep you here."

His business interests aside, nothing except an acrimonious divorce, the Duc regrettably noted. But the fact that Jolie was happy and exempt from the destruction consoled him. "Later I'll come, darling. After Bourges has settled matters between your mother and me."

"Thank you very much, sir," his son-in-law said with more formality. "We're very grateful, sir." He put out his hand.

"I'm damned glad to have access to the best ponies in the world," Etienne replied, taking Henri's hand in his strong grip. He was pleased to be of help, more than pleased Jolie's family was about to settle for a time so far from Isabelle's villainous temperament. "When are you leaving?" he asked then. Without causing alarm he hoped to persuade them on an early departure.

"We're booked for next week, Papa."

"It wasn't my idea, sir," the young Comte de Saint-Joris quickly interjected. "Jolie booked us without my knowing. She was sure, she said, but… well… I know how much five million is, sir, and sometimes… well… Jolie doesn't seem to—"

"Understand economics?"

"Exactly, sir."

"Really, Papa, sometimes Henri goes on about money as though we didn't have any. I tell him my dot is more than enough, but he says we should save it for the children."

"Children?" The Duc's voice was softly inquiring.

Jolie's face was wreathed in smiles and she grinned at her husband first before she answered her father. "It's too early to be absolutely sure yet, but we think… Hector might have a brother or sister next year and that's why," she went on in pleased explanation, "we're interested in settling down for a time."

"If Jolie's having a baby, I won't be playing on the circuit for the next few years," the young Comte earnestly said, squeezing his wife's hand and darting an affectionate glance her way. "So Suantez's offer came at an opportune time."

The look passing between the two young people triggered a small pang of envy in the Duc. How nice they shared such pleasure in their hopes for another child. Isabelle had found both pregnancy and child-rearing an irritating imposition.

Oblivious to her father's morose speculation, Jolie went on in her familiar buoyant good spirits. "You know Henri lives for polo like you do, Papa, and if we have another baby, even if he can't travel the circuit, in partnership with Suantez, he'll still be actively involved in the game."

"I don't live for polo," the Duc protested.

"Of course you do, Papa. You haven't missed a match in years."

Until this week, he thought. For Daisy.

"Until this week," his daughter echoed. "Whyever did you let Daisy go?" she asked, as if she were reading his mind.

For the same reason I want you to go, he thought. "She had business commitments in the States," he said.

"When will she return?"

"I'm not certain."

"Will you be visiting her?"

"Not until the divorce is settled."

"Did she say that?" Jolie understood the awkwardness of her father's position.

"No."

"Well, you should change your mind about seeing her then and come to visit us on your way to Montana."

Etienne smiled at his daughter's casual suggestion that overlooked the myriad social taboos relating to his visiting a single young woman at her family's home while he was still married. Even though Daisy had assured him no one would look askance at such a visit, the Duc knew better. In Paris, his influence afforded protection to Daisy from anyone who took issue with their relationship. Almost anyone, he corrected himself, thinking of Isabelle. In Montana, provincial custom would no doubt censure his interest in Daisy. Her family certainly would show concern for her happiness.

"Maybe I will… someday," he replied, not so certain the someday would be soon. Not in the current gloomy aftermath of Daisy's departure. "Have you told your mother your plans?" he asked then with thoughts of Isabelle fresh in his mind.

"Mother's in England. Lady Wilcomb invited her for the Ascot races. Henri spoke to Suantez in Trouville after Mother left. He has a small stud there… you know that."

After the polo season closed in Paris in July, and the haut monde left the city for their summer homes, the circuit moved to the cool seashore at Trouville.

"I'll write her in England," Jolie went on, "and tell her our plans." She refrained from saying what they all knew; that Isabelle wouldn't interrupt her social commitments to come back and say good-bye even if they telegrammed her. "But I'm not going to let you mope in Paris long, Papa," Jolie added, bestowing her special smile on her father. "Expect a telegram a week and then if you don't come—a message every day until you do decide to visit. Hector will miss you terribly… so you see—you must oblige. And Henri needs your help," she added, patting her husband's hand, "don't you, darling?"

"Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir." The young Comte, unlike his wife, was in awe of the Duc. Not only was the Duc de Vec the best polo player in France, distinction enough to impress Henri, but in the milieu of Jockey Club and Hunt Club, he held the enviable reputation as the most sought-after ladies' man in Paris. His name was conspicuous, as well, for integrity on the playing field and in the world of business. "We'd be honored, sir," Henry said with genuine reverence, "if you'd consider taking a hand in the management of the farms."

"Thank you, Henri, perhaps… later." The Duc smiled at the man who'd brought such happiness to his daughter and regretted again for a fleeting time his own misspent life.

"Promise you'll come, Papa," Jolie insisted. "It's only a few days now from Le Havre to New York."

"I'll come as soon as I can," he answered, smiling. "Fair enough?"

That evening while the Duc was being vague and ambiguous with his daughter's demands for a visit, Daisy was seated at