Free Crossings by Danielle Steel Page A

do, with the swimming pool, the children's recreation rooms, the kennels, where they could visit the traveling dogs, the puppet theater, and the cinema. There was lots for them to do, and, hopefully, for Jacques too. Liane asked Armand as they left the suite if he thought Jacques might already be on board.
    “He'll find us after we sail, I'm sure.” He had spent two days in New York on his own, seeing some friends, and was undoubtedly having some sort of party in his room. “Now, what is it that you're so anxious to see, Liane?”
    “Everything!” Her eyes shone like a little girl's. “I want to see the bar with the varnished pigskin walls, the winter garden … the main salon …” She smiled up at her husband then. “I even want to see the gentleman's fumoir . It looks incredible in the brochure.” She had done her homework well, and Armand was amused.
    “I don't think you'll get in to see the gentleman's smoking room, my love.” His eyes took her in again in the pretty red silk suit. It was difficult to believe that they had been married for ten years. She didn't look a moment over nineteen. From his vantage point of twenty-four more years, she always looked somewhat like a child. And now, as she strolled along on his arm, they made an extremely handsome pair as they wandered down to the boat deck, to the forward promenade, from where they could see New York in the heat of the bright June day. But here, on the ship, there was a slight breeze. They went back indoors a few moments later and down to the promenade deck, where they took a quick tour of the first-class lounge and glanced into the theater, and Liane spoke to him about the pool.
    “It has a terraced shelf for the girls, so they'll be safe.”
    “Those two little fish?” Armand smiled down at his wife. “They would be safe in any pool.”
    “I still feel better knowing there's a protected area of the pool for them. Do you suppose it's open now?” She wanted to see everything at once.
    “I suspect they keep it closed until the ship sets sail.” The Normandie was famous for its rather elaborate farewell parties, and undoubtedly it would have occurred to some to visit the pool with a bottle or two of champagne. They never would have got the visitors off the ship in that case. It was difficult enough as it was. Everywhere, they could see people visiting the ship, glancing into staterooms, peeking into elegant lounges and suites.
    Once past the theater, they wandered on to the library, a handsome, serious-looking room, and it was just past it that Liane discovered the winter garden she'd read about, and she almost gasped as they stepped inside. There was a tropical jungle of greenery everywhere, marble fountains delicately splashing water, and tall glass cages filled with exotic birds, and there was an open-air sensation due to the fact that they had reached the forward of the ship. Liane thought it was the most exotic room she had ever seen and she turned to her husband with a look of happy disbelief. It seemed more than ever like a dream.
    “It's even prettier than the photographs in the brochure.” In fact, the whole ship was. Even from these first glimpses, there were treasures everywhere, touches that could not be portrayed adequately in a photograph or sketch, and could barely even be described. It was all like an exquisite fairyland, filled with extraordinarily handsome, interesting-looking people in a setting more spectacular than Versailles or Fontainebleau. They both agreed that they had never seen anything anywhere to rival it, and as they made their way back to the other end of the ship, to the sun deck, where they would live for the next week, other voices echoed their thoughts in whispered tones: “Extraordinary … extraordinaire … un miracle … incroyable … incredible … remarkable … she's every inch a queen.” People constantly compared her to other ships, yet there was no comparison to be made. She stood alone. The