She said yes, of course; she couldn’t think of any other answer that was reasonable. Gregoire loved her, she loved him . . . she must do. He was willing to wait for her; he had money of his own. And she was so tired of being lonely.

He triumphantly slipped the ring onto her left hand, next to her other engagement ring and wedding band. It didn’t fit, but he assured her it was the work of a day to have it corrected.

“And we must be married as soon as possible. You’ll tell Tom. Perhaps we can arrange the ceremony at the château, by next week.”

Sophie laughed. “Next week? Don’t be silly.”

“You forget, I have to wait to make love to you until we’re married. You can’t blame me for being eager.” Gregoire came and perched himself next to her on the couch. “But seriously, darling; we love each other, delay is foolish.”

“A wedding is a happy day—there’s no need to rush it.” Planning a nice wedding would give her something to do. “And besides, I must break the news to Tom gradually. He’s had a lot to cope with lately.”

“He’ll be fine,” Gregoire said, a touch impatiently. “He must learn that you have a right to move on.”

Sophie stared. “We’re not getting married next week, Gregoire! Be reasonable. I haven’t even been in mourning six months. Besides, the church will make you wait at least six months, go to marriage classes . . . although Fr. Sabin will do that for me.”

“Six months!” Lazard exploded. “But he’s been dead seven years. . . . I don’t have six months. . . .”

Then he caught hold of himself and shook his head.

“Look at me; I am being so stupid. It’s only that I have been planning this, and already the time without you seems too long to me.”

They were soft words, but Sophie shrank back a little; the fire in Gregoire’s blue eyes had surprised her; she’d never seen him angry like that.

He perceived the look. “Ah, chérie, now I have frightened you, and at such a happy moment.”

“It’s all right. You’re just enthusiastic.”

“Exactly,” he said. “You know when something has been building up . . . and when you make the leap, you want it to happen as soon as possible.”

“I understand,” Sophie said. She stood up. “I’ll let Fr. Sabin know tomorrow, anyway.”

“Yes,” Gregoire said eagerly. “Maybe he can get us a dispensation or something. Make it faster. In return for a donation. . . .”

He caught her look and held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I’ll wait as long as I have to, and just hope it won’t be too long.”