Forbidden Susan Johnson (english love story books txt) 📖

envoy to the Vatican… only one instance of old friendships now in jeopardy—over me."

"Over the divorce, not you," Hazard didn't want Daisy to bear the burden of a divorce that might or might not occur.

"I still feel responsible."

He couldn't be as frank as he wished… reflecting that the Duc de Vec may have been merely amusing himself—again. So he said instead with a comforting smile, "Well, I'm pleased you're home with us—whatever the reason."

Daisy's utterances, too, were less than frank. Her disclosure hadn't revealed the manner in which Etienne had practically urged her to return to Montana. Her humiliation over those reflections was too private to expose. She'd also not admitted her skepticism over Isabelle's alleged threat; Isabelle may have simply been a convenient excuse for Etienne to approve her leaving. "I'm happy to be back," Daisy said. "And I'm looking forward to working again."

In that, at least, no subterfuge existed. A peace of sorts had enveloped her as they'd traveled West, leaving the cities behind, leaving Paris and all her painful memories far away. The rolling prairie passing by the train windows made Paris less real, mitigated the ghastly visions of Isabelle's malevolent face, put her great longing for Etienne in some perspective. Lessened it? So far she hadn't experienced that saving grace; a great aching emptiness still filled her heart.

Would he actually write as he'd promised or telegram; had he already sent her letters, was he as miserable and dejected as she? But when she arrived in Helena, no letter greeted her; a false hope, in any event, with the speed of her journey—an omen, her unhappy soul prophesied.

Feted by her family and friends, Daisy reentered the welcoming comfort of her familiar world. She discussed the gallery openings she'd attended and the plays—her new Worth gowns elicited extravagant compliments. She agreed with all her acquaintances that Paris was particularly beautiful in the spring.

With so many millionaires in the wealthy mining town of Helena who traveled abroad or had Parisian friends, gossip about Daisy and the Duc de Vec had preceded her to Helena. Although no one was discourteous enough to blatantly inquire, Daisy was conscious of a burning curiosity. Even talk of divorce in the St. Germain enclaves precipitated the direst speculation on the crumbling of aristocratic mores. People were naturally inquisitive—the name de Vec represented immemorial custom.

Empress did broach the subject once, for as a friend of the Duc during her estrangement from Trey, she understood the full measure of his charm.

Daisy had come over to visit and see the children, so she and Empress were in the large sunny, nursery watching the youngsters at play.

"Will Etienne be coming West?" Empress asked.

Daisy shook her head first as though she didn't wish to answer and then briefly said, "No."

A sense of tranquility pervaded the nursery, the family scene bathed in golden sunlight, felicity in all the smiling children's faces. So contrary, Daisy mused, to the oppressive disorder of her own life.

Empress and Trey's young son, Max, was stacking blocks into towers with Belle, Valerie Stewart's daughter, who they were raising as their own. Empress's youngest brother Eduard, almost five now, helped the two toddlers steady their tippy structures.

Born only a month apart, the toddlers, both dark-haired and nearly of a size, had immediately developed a natural affinity for each other from their very first meeting, like twins would, understanding each other's imperfect language when no one else could decipher it, showing concern for each other, sharing toys and special treats as though it were natural rather than unusual in children that young. And gazing at the happy scene of the three small children engrossed in their building, Solange sleeping peacefully nearby in her cradle, Daisy wistfully envied the tender image. Etienne had wanted a child and had she been less practical, she might be carrying his baby. She wished suddenly with an inexpressible yearning now that it was too late, that she'd been less pragmatic. Even if he were lost to her, she'd have his child to love and nurture, she'd still retain a part of him as vivid memory of their love.

"Once Etienne's divorce is finalized," Empress said, interrupting Daisy's poignant reverie, "he'll certainly come West then."

"The divorce will never be finalized." Her declaration, blunt and low, had the tone of an unequivocal edict.

"You can't be sure!" Startled, Empress breathlessly took issue. "Surely de Vec will prevail."

"You don't realize Isabelle's stance. Divorce is death, I think, succinctly describes her posture, and she has every intention of living a long life." Daisy reached down to help Max steady his block tower, her voice prosaic, as though she were commenting on the weather. The past weeks, while not assuaging the sorrow of her lost love, had allowed her considerable time to analyze the incontrovertible strength in Isabelle's defense. "Etienne can't leave France anyway… even if some benevolent god obliterated all the barricades Isabelle has put in his path, because his numerous business interests are all based on the continent. And I can't live in Paris. My life is here."

In any other woman, Empress might have questioned the firmness of her convictions, but Trey's family was unequivocably committed to their clan, to the Absarokee vision of "driftwood lodges" with a strength of character and indefatigable courage almost reverently devout. The Absarokee term for clan was ashammaleaxia, which translated as "driftwood lodges." As driftwood lodges together along the banks of the rivers, so the members of a clan clung together, united in a turbulent stream, intrinsically linked to and part of the assemblage of human and spiritual personages surrounding him or her.

A more traditional woman wouldn't have questioned living in her husband's world, but Daisy epitomized a fundamentally nontraditional female role, for the Absarokee nurtured an egalitarian acceptance of mission regardless of gender. Men and women were equally eligible for social recognition and spiritual attainment.

One of only a handful of female lawyers in America, her determination to enter that distinguished rank was based solely on her desire to help her people.