Free Darkest Longings by Susan Lewis

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    glistened like new, Celine found fatiguing enough, but
    when, with a whoop of delight, Claudine dragged her into
    the car and zoomed off down the drive, her hair flying in the
    wind and a cloud of dust billowing behind them, she was so
    agitated by fear that she thought she might never recover.
    It was the first and last time Celine ever graced the
    Lagonda with her presence, but fortunately Magaly, who
     
    had not a fainthearted bone in her body, enjoyed nothing
    more than an afternoon spin in the country with her mistress especially when that country was her own beloved France so Claudine was not deprived of company during the frequent excursions she took to distract herself from
    contemplating her future with Francois de Lorvoire.
    Solange and Monique visited the Chateau de Montvisse
    on several occasions. Monique’s hostility remained as
    obdurate as ever, and the fact that Claudine was so
    obviously entertained by the way Monique disagreed with
    everything she said, only succeeded in making matters
    worse. The Comtesse chose not to notice her daughter’s
    attitude; her way of dealing with anything unpleasant, as
    Claudine had come to realize, was simply to pretend it
    didn’t exist. Already Claudine had become inordinately
    fond of Solange, delighting in her dotty little ways and
    outrageous comments -which were mostly directed at
    Celine.
    During these visits Francois was never mentioned; it was
    as if all concerned - with the exception of Claudine - were
    embarrassed by his abrupt return to Paris. Claudine knew
    he was there because her father had told her so during one
    of the frequent telephone calls he had made since his own
    departure for the capital. From Francois himself there had
    been no communication at all, a fact that both annoyed and
    pleased her. On balance, she thought she was probably
    more pleased than annoyed, for she had a great many
    decisions to make before she saw him again. For one thing,
    she had no intention of being thrown like the last time - or of
    allowing him the final word. Next time they met, she would
    be the one to take control of the situation, and she would
    make certain he understood that under no circumstances
    would she tolerate his appalling manners once they were
    married.
    The other problem Claudine felt she must sort out before
     
    much longer was Monique’s dislike. She knew now that
    Monique was two years older than her, that she was devoted
    to her two brothers, and that she had had a very poor time
    of it romantically. When Celine told her this last fact,
    Claudine was surprised, for Monique’s wealth and
    position obviously made her an excellent match, and she
    was also remarkably attractive. Still, if Monique’s character
    was as like her elder brother’s as Claudine suspected, it
    was hardly surprising she was still unmarried. Nevertheless,
    she was determined to win Monique’s friendship,
    though it wasn’t going to be easy, she mused now, eyeing
    Monique as she sat beside her mother on one of the
    Japanese sofas in Celine’s favourite drawing-room.
    Monique was balancing a cup and saucer in her hands, and
    looking haughtier than ever in a pastel-rose flannel suit,
    silk stockings and short-veiled hat.
    ‘I’m so delighted that you have fallen in love with our
    countryside, cherie,’ Solange was saying. ‘I must say, I don’t
    think there’s a place on earth to beat it. Have you been for
    many walks?’
    Claudine turned her eyes from Monique to smile
    affectionately at the Comtesse. ‘Yes, lots,’ she answered,
    ‘but I have to confess I try to avoid the long grass as I have a
    mortal dread of snakes.’
    ‘Oh, but I lave snakes,’ Monique cried theatrically. ‘They
    are such graceful creatures, so beautiful.’
    ‘Perhaps, then,’ Claudine said smoothly, ‘you would care
    to come for a walk with me, Monique, help me to conquer
    my fear.’
    Monique’s small nostrils flared. ‘But I am so busy at the
    chateau,’ she answered, tossing