Chapter 13

Earlier that morning Rosalie had watched as Yvette had slipped Clarice’s wedding dress over her head and fastened the row of tiny pearl buttons up the back. As she returned to her bedroom now her eyes filled with tears at the sight of her eldest daughter, ethereal in the beautiful milk-white gown, embroidered with silver flowers, made specially for her by Monsieur Worth. Yvette had dressed her hair, leaving it tumbling to her shoulders as became a maid, with a silver circlet holding the lace veil that would cover her face. She had attached the embroidered train that the children would carry and was standing back to survey her handiwork critically.

‘My darling, you look radiant,’ Rosalie murmured. ‘Lucas is a lucky man. Come, let’s go downstairs to your papa.’

Emile was waiting in the hallway and looked up as Clarice paused at the top of the staircase. Normally an undemonstrative man, he found he had tears in his eyes, and pretending to sneeze, he drew a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe them away.

‘Come, girls,’ Rosalie said to Hélène and Louise, and she shepherded them out to where Pierre was waiting to take them to the Place.

When he returned, Emile handed his daughter up into the barouche, and sitting proudly side by side in the June sunshine, they were driven to the Mairie. As they drove into the Place they were greeted with applause from the crowd who had gathered there to cheer the arrival of the bride. When Emile handed Clarice down from the carriage, she paused for a moment looking up at him, her face misty behind the lace of her veil.

‘Ready, chérie?’ he asked softly.

‘Yes, Papa,’ she replied, ‘quite ready.’

She placed her hand on her father’s arm and took her bouquet from Hélène and then, followed by their close family, they walked up the steps of the Mairie and through the arched doorway into the vestibule, where Lucas was waiting for her.

When they re-emerged some twenty-five minutes later, Clarice’s veil had been thrown back and her face was alight with the joy that filled her, joy that was reflected on her new husband’s face as they paused for a moment on the steps, surrounded by their families. They were welcomed with more cheers and applause from those of the village who had waited patiently in the Place to greet the young couple.

With Clarice’s hand tucked under Lucas’s arm, they descended the steps, and with Hélène close behind to lift the lace train clear of the road, they led the way out of the Place and along the lane that led to the church. More villagers were standing outside it, and it was here that little Monique and Clément waited, ready to carry Aunt Clarice’s train. Delphine held Clément firmly by the hand as he jiggled from foot to foot with excitement, Monique standing solemn and silent, ready for the important part she was about to play.

The newly married couple waited for their families to move into the church and take their places before Lucas led his bride, attended by her bridesmaids, into the coolness of the church and up the aisle to where Father Bernard was waiting for them.