When Strangers Marry (Vallerands #1)(82)

All at once Max understood what the old man’s objection truly was. It would damage Diron’s pride to allow his daughter to marry for love. It was not the continental way. People would make jest of the old man’s decision, and say his iron will was softening. Perhaps they might even dare to say he was influenced by the new American values that were infiltrating the territory. Quite simply, a love match would embarrass Diron.

“I agree,” Max said, thinking rapidly. “You realize if we keep them apart, all this overwrought emotion will continue. So, that is why I favor the idea of a long courtship— with strict supervision, naturellement. We’ll allow them enough time to fall out of love.”

“Eh? What?”

“It will only take a little time, not even a year. You know how fickle the young are.”

Diron frowned. “Yes, indeed.”

“And then, when all this violent love has faded into indifference, we will marry them to each other. Henriette will probably object to the match by then. It would be a lesson for both of them. Then, through the years, Alexandre and Henriette will slowly develop the sensible kind of affection for each other that my parents did… as you and your wife did.”

“Hmmm.” Diron stroked his chin. Max nearly held his breath, waiting for the answer. “There is something to the idea.”

“It makes sense to me,” Max said blandly, sensing the old man was secretly relieved to be handed a solution to the dilemma. This way Henriette would have the husband she desired, and Diron’s pride would be preserved.

“Hmmm. Yes, that is what we will do.”

“Bien.“ Max adopted a matter-of-fact expression. “Now, about the dowry—”

“We will discuss that at a more appropriate time,” Diron interrupted grumpily. “Already thinking of the dowry… how like a Vallerand.”

———

“Pretend not to love her?” Alex exclaimed. “I do not understand.”

“Trust me,” Max said, catching Lysette around the waist as she passed him. He pulled her onto his lap. “The sooner you and Henriette convince everyone that you are indifferent to each other, the sooner you can marry.”

“Only you could come up with such a convoluted scheme,” Alex said sourly.

“You want her,” Max said flatly. “That is how you can have her.”

Lysette cuddled against her husband, stroking his hair. “It was very clever of you, Max.”

“Not at all,” he said modestly, enjoying her praise.

Her voice lowered. “It will be a happy ending, all thanks to your romantic nature,” she said, and he exchanged a slow grin with her.

Alexandre made a sound of disgust and stood up to leave. “Imagine, Max having a romantic nature,” he muttered. “I must be having a nightmare.”

———

In the weeks to come, Alexandre’s romance with Henriette Clement continued on its precarious way. On countless evenings he sat with her in the parlor, the entire Clement family in attendance. When he took her on sedate carriage drives, her mother and aunt accompanied them. He never dared meet Henriette’s eyes in church or at the balls they attended. The nearness of Henriette, and the rigorously imposed distance between them, caused Alexandre’s feelings to ascend to new heights of longing.

The tiniest signs from Henriette were significant— the way her footsteps slowed when she had to leave him, the flash of her gaze when she allowed herself to look at him. It was any young man’s idea of a perfect hell.

To Alexandre’s own surprise, he found he had no desire for any other girl. It was with genuine indignation that he reacted to Max’s suggestion that he visit some of his former haunts with Bernard.

“Rumors of your new celibate ways are reaching Diron’s ears,” Max informed him calmly. “It is clear to him and everyone else that you’re smitten with Henriette. It’s time to give the appearance that you are losing interest in her.”

“And therefore you wish me to visit some harlot?”

“You’ve done it before,” Max pointed out.

“Yes, but that was a long time ago. At least two months!”

Max laughed and suggested that he find some other way of appearing bored with his pursuit of Henriette. Miserably Alexandre began to ration his visits to the Clement household, making them more and more infrequent, while Henriette strove to appear indifferent to the new flood of rumors that a betrothal would soon be announced.

Lysette pitied the lovelorn pair and told Max as much. “It seems so ridiculous to put them through such trials merely to preserve Monsieur Clement’s pride. It makes something very simple into something so complicated.”

“It isn’t so bad for Alexandre to want something he cannot have immediately.” Max smiled and leaned down to kiss her. She was sitting at her dressing table, braiding her hair before they went to bed. “The best things are worth waiting for. Such as you.”

“As I recall, you did not have to wait long for me at all.”

“I waited my entire life for you.”

Touched, Lysette smiled and rubbed her cheek against his hand. “Bien-aimé,” she whispered. “You do have a way with words.” She began to unbutton the front of her dress and gestured to the dresser. “Will you bring me a nightgown, please?”