“How long have you been widowed?” he asked her gently over dinner.

“Since before Consuelo was born,” she said simply.

“That’s a long time to be alone, assuming you have been,” he asked, prying a little. He was curious about her. She was an unusual woman-beautiful, distinguished, clearly well born, and a doctor. He had never met anyone quite like her, and was very attracted to her.

“I have been,” she confirmed, and in fact, she had been alone for a lot longer. Nine years, since Josiah had left her, but she couldn’t tell him that.

“You couldn’t have been married for long,” he said, looking thoughtful.

“Only a few months. He was killed at the front, right after we were married. We met where I was working at Villers-Cotterêts, at the hospital Elsie Inglis set up, with female medical units.”

“Were you already a physician then?” He looked confused, as that would have made her older than she looked. She appeared very young to him.

“No.” She smiled. “Just a medic. I left medical school to work there. I worked at L’Abbaye de Royaumont before that, in Asnières. I went back to medical school after Consuelo was born.”

“You’re a very enterprising woman, and very brave,” he said, sounding impressed, as they ate dinner, which was delicious. He had ordered lobster, and she was having a delicate veal dish. “What made you want to become a doctor?” He wanted to know everything about her.

“Same thing as you probably. I’ve loved science and medicine since I was a child. I just never thought I’d get the chance to do it. What about you?”

“My father and both my brothers are physicians. And my mother should have been. She tells us all what we do wrong. And I hate to admit it, but sometimes she’s right.” He laughed. “She’s been helping my father in his office for years. But why are you practicing here and not in the States?” He still couldn’t get over the fact that she wasn’t French, she spoke the language like a native. He would never have suspected she was American.

“I don’t know. It didn’t happen there. I came here to volunteer for the war effort. And then I just fell into a series of circumstances. One of the surgeons in Asnières helped me get into medical school in Nice. And I could never have done it while my parents were alive. My mother was never happy about my fascination with medicine. She thought I’d wind up catching a disease. I worked with immigrants in New York.”

“Well, lucky for me that you came over here. Do you think you’ll go back to the States one day?”

She shook her head solemnly. “I have no one left there. All my family are gone.”

“That’s very sad,” he said sympathetically. “I’m very close to mine. I would be lost without them. We’re something of a tribe.” She liked that about him. It seemed warm and friendly, and if they were all as much fun as he was, they must have been a lively group. “What about your late husband’s family? Do you see them?”

“Very little. They’re in England. Although Consuelo’s grandmother came over recently. She’s a very nice woman.” But she didn’t tell him it had been the first time they’d ever met.

There was so much about her history that she couldn’t tell him. That her real husband had left her and was in love with a man. That she was divorced because of that. That she’d been raped and never married to Consuelo’s father. The truth was far more shocking than the version she told. The worst of it was that she was paying for sins she hadn’t committed, and would all her life. He was so easygoing that she could almost imagine he wouldn’t be as shocked by the truth as some might be. But she wouldn’t tell him anyway. The history she told was one of complete respectability, and he had no reason to suspect otherwise. Everything she said was eminently believable, and she looked so proper that no one would ever expect anything less of her.

He commented during dinner that he had never been married. Specializing in orthopedic surgery had kept him in medical school for a long time, which he had attended in Paris at the Faculté de Médecine. He had trained at the Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital, and the war had interrupted his studies for a while. He somehow let it slip out that he had been decorated twice during the war. Despite his joking style, he was an impressive person, and it was obvious that he thought the same of her. As she talked to him over dinner, she felt as though he had been dropped into her life like a gift from heaven. She was glad he had almost knocked her down the stairs at the hospital, otherwise she would never have met him. And he seemed equally pleased to have found her.

When he drove her home he asked when he could see her again. She had no other conflicting engagements, for the rest of her life in fact, except dinner and evenings with Consuelo, and he promised to call the next day and make a plan. And much to her amazement, he did.

She was sitting at her desk, filling out files on the patients she had seen that morning, when Hélène told her he was on the line. He invited her to dinner the coming Saturday, in two days. He was suddenly an unexpected pleasure in her life. And he asked if on Sunday, she and Consuelo would like to have lunch with his two brothers and their children, at his parents’ home. It was a very appealing invitation. And she mentioned it to Consuelo that night. She was delighted. Consuelo thought he had been very funny about her teeth. She looked at her mother thoughtfully then and volunteered that he was nice. Annabelle agreed that he was.

On Saturday, he took her to La Tour d’Argent for dinner, which was even more elegant than Maxim’s. She wore a very simple well-cut black dress, and Lady Winshire’s emerald ring. Annabelle had no other jewelry in France, but she looked very stylish nonetheless. Her natural beauty was more striking than anything she wore. And they had a wonderful time again, talking until almost midnight about a great many things-the war, surgery, medicine, the reconstruction of Europe. He was a fascinating dinner partner and fun to be with.

The day they spent with him on Sunday was even better. As it turned out, his parents’ home was only a few blocks from her house. His brothers were as entertaining as he was, and their wives were very sweet. Their children were around the same age as Consuelo, and the whole family talked medicine constantly, which Annabelle loved. His mother was a benevolent tyrant who ruled them all. She scolded Antoine frequently, and rolled her eyes in disgust that he still wasn’t married, and said so. She seemed to approve of Annabelle, and refused to believe that she wasn’t French and had grown up in New York. She let Consuelo sit on her lap, and all the others, and then chased them all out into the garden to play. By the time he took Annabelle and Consuelo home, they were all pleasantly exhausted and had had a wonderful day.

“Thank you for putting up with my mother,” he said with a smile. “I don’t usually take people home for Sunday lunch. Most women would run screaming out the door.”

“I loved it,” Annabelle said honestly. She missed her own family so much that she found his an enormous blessing, and it was wonderful for Consuelo to be around families like that, with aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. It was everything they lacked. And Consuelo had enjoyed every minute of it, even more than her mother did. “Thank you for taking us.”

“We’ll do it again,” he promised. “I’ll call you and we’ll organize some dinners for this week.” Not just one. Several. Suddenly, Antoine had become a major feature in her life, and she had to admit, he made her very happy. And his family was an added bonus in her eyes.

He called her on Tuesday, and invited her to dinner on Friday night, and he suggested that they have lunch at La Cascade, one of the oldest and nicest restaurants in Paris, on Saturday, and with his family on Sunday again if she could stand it. He was giving her a major rush.

And every one of their dates was absolute perfection. Dinner on Friday at the Ritz was exquisite, just as the two previous dinners had been. Lunch at La Cascade was sumptuous and relaxing, and they went for a walk in the gardens of Bagatelle afterward and admired the peacocks. When he brought her home later, she invited him to stay for an early dinner with her and Consuelo in their kitchen. And after that, he played cards with Consuelo, and she screamed with glee when she beat him, which Annabelle suspected was fixed.

Their Sunday with his family was even better than the first one. His family was a classic example of the French bourgeoisie, with all its opinions, political views, unspoken rules and etiquette, and solid family values, all of which she loved. She was as traditional as they were, and enjoyed talking to both his sisters-in-law before lunch, chatting about their children.

After lunch she fell into medical discussions with his brothers, one of whom had been a surgeon in Asnières, although they had never met, since she was already in medical school when he was assigned there. They all seemed to have a great deal in common, and Annabelle fit right in.

The following weekend, Antoine invited her to Deauville with Consuelo. He had booked separate rooms for them, and there was no question of anything being less than circumspect. Consuelo was over the moon at the prospect, and so was she. They stayed at a wonderful hotel, walked on the boardwalk together, gathered seashells, looked in all the shops, and had delicious meals of seafood. Annabelle said she didn’t know how to thank him when they got back. Consuelo went upstairs sleepily with Brigitte after the long drive, and Antoine and Annabelle stood in her courtyard as he looked tenderly at her. He gently touched her face with his long surgeon’s fingers, and then he kissed her, and afterward pulled her into his arms.