Chapter 8

Spring 1939

‘ A re you going to call a waiter over, or do I need to do it?’ The irritation in my voice surprised even me—bossy, impatient. Henri seemed on edge, and I wasn’t helping. I plucked a cigarette from the open case on the table and fitted it into my holder.

Henri reached for his lighter. ‘I will summon the waiter, but first, there is something I wish to ask.’

I placed the menu back on the table, my eyes widening as I gazed up at him. I noticed his left hand slipping into his jacket pocket, lingering there for several seconds. This suave, confident man—so sophisticated, so assured—suddenly appeared nervous, out of sorts.

‘What is it?’ I pursed my lips, bracing myself for his usual plea to move to Marseille. ‘I’m starving, Henri.’

‘Nancy, you are the most infuriating woman in the world.’ His eyes flashed with a mix of annoyance and amusement as they locked onto mine. ‘And yet, you are also the most beautiful, elegant creature to walk the earth, and for some mystical reason, I am utterly lost without you.’ His hand emerged from his pocket, clutching a small, black velvet box, which he gently set on the table. ‘Nancy, I love you. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

I was mid-sip of red wine, and it caught in my throat, forcing me to cough. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in my mind, my heart pounding in my ears as he opened the box. Inside sat the most exquisite diamond ring. He plucked it from its velour bed and extended it toward me, gesturing for my hand.

I caught myself, mouth agape, and took a long drag from my cigarette, inhaling deeply as if seeking guidance in the swirling smoke. I longed to say yes. We shared so much—common interests, a bond that felt almost perfect. But marriage? My mind wandered back to my parents, to the pain of their broken union. Could Henri truly be faithful? The prospect of discovering infidelity after marriage was too painful to bear.

‘Well, what do you think? Marry me, Nancy.’

His words snapped me back to the present, and I searched his eyes, swimming with warmth and sincerity. He loved me, that much was clear, but marriage? His parents didn’t approve of me; they likely saw me as a gold digger. A warm flush spread from my neck to my cheeks as I struggled to breathe, feeling trapped in my chair, the hard back pressing uncomfortably against my spine. ‘I’m not sure, Henri.’

The smile fell from his lips, replaced by a shadow of disappointment. I glanced around the room, catching sight of the waiter at another table. I raised my hand, desperate for a distraction. The waiter acknowledged with a nod and quickly made his way over. ‘Brandy, please—a double.’ Henri’s sharp intake of breath signalled his irritation, but he said nothing.

When the waiter returned, I plucked the glass from the tray before he could even set it down. The brandy burned as it slid down in one fiery gulp. ‘Are you serious, Henri? You’ve always kept a different girl for every day of the week, sometimes two or three. You’ve never mentioned marriage before.’

‘Nancy, I’ve given up other women. There’s only room for you in my life.’

Was there? I knew for a fact he’d been spotted dining out with a female companion just last week. ‘You say that, but what about next week when I’m away on assignment? Who will you call then? You hate dining alone.’ His brow furrowed, and a downcast expression settled on his face. I wanted to believe him, truly, but doubts lingered. My mother had believed in my father once, only to have her dreams shattered. ‘A leopard can’t change its spots.’

Henri leaned back in his seat, shaking his head as he lit a cigarette, blowing out a string of smoke rings. ‘All right, Nancy. I can see that you are not ready, and perhaps I was a little impulsive. But I will show you—I will prove it to you.’ His mouth twitched into a familiar, confident smile. Yet, beneath that smile, something seemed different—sincere, perhaps? Or just another mask?

He reached across the table, taking my hand in his. A soothing warmth spread through me, flowing like silk over my wrist and arm. My pulse quickened. I sighed, torn between love and doubt. I wanted no one but Henri, yet the fears ebbed and flowed, like an uncertain sea, my past always close to the surface. He was offering me a life with him, and love—but how could I be sure it was real? My heart whispered to accept, but my mind urged caution. Marriage was a huge commitment, too big to risk on uncertainty.

May 1939

Two weeks dragged by without a word between us, the silence speaking volumes about Henri’s disappointment. Then the rain came, heavy clouds turning the sky a moody grey. Darkness settled over my days, growing heavier with each passing night. I despised the ache in my chest, wondering how Henri was, and more importantly, who he might be with. The thoughts plagued me, day and night. Why did life have to be so damn complicated? Marriage? The proposal had caught me off guard.

I’d carved out a new life in Paris—exciting, free, with no strings attached. I worked hard and played hard, though not as hard as Henri. He was such a catch, my friends kept reminding me, but I wasn’t interested in his fortune. How could he ever promise to be faithful? He said he wanted to take care of me, but I’d managed perfectly well on my own since leaving home. Marriage would change everything. Was I ready to trade my independence for the unknown? The thought of starting over if things went wrong filled me with dread. I reached for my glass, downing the last drop of brandy, but it did nothing to soothe the burning ache in my throat, the tightness in my stomach.

When Henri finally called, his voice was strained, but he asked me again to marry him. ‘I need more time, Henri,’ I said, sensing his patience was wearing thin. I was scared—there were no guarantees in love. He invited me to dinner, and I knew he’d expect an answer soon. It was time to make a choice.

* * *

Verdun’s buzzed with diners, the air thick with the scent of perfume and sweat mingling with the humid evening air. I wore a loose-fitting navy dress with red wedge-heeled espadrilles. Henri was at the bar, downing brandy—another one followed quickly.

‘Bonjour,’ I said, placing my purse on the bar. ‘Sorry I’m late.’ His hazel eyes twinkled with flecks of emerald and gold.

‘Bonjour, Nancy. It is fashionable for a lady to be late, is it not?’ He smiled, brushing my hand with his lips. ‘Come, our table awaits.’ Henri placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the far corner of the restaurant, pulling out my chair. ‘Nancy, do you remember when I showed up in Paris unexpectedly?’

‘Yes, it was a lovely surprise.’

‘Well, I found you surrounded by men. Barely a woman in sight, except for you, of course.’ He sighed, leaning back in his chair. ‘Nancy, I worry about you. I don’t like the thought of you alone in Paris, living in that cramped apartment.’

‘I’m not alone, Henri. Work and friends keep me busy. Besides, I love my home.’

He shook his head. ‘That’s what concerns me—your friends, especially the men.’

His brow furrowed and he pursed his lips. Of all people, I never expected Henri to succumb to the green-eyed monster. ‘You’re jealous.’ I tried to suppress a smile, but it was futile.

‘Nancy, please do not mock me.’ A crestfallen look darkened his face. ‘And that American fellow—you are always dancing with him. Do you prefer him over me? Is it because he is younger? Maybe I am too old for you.’ He shook his head, sighing heavily.

I hadn’t seen this vulnerable side of him before. His stern eyes softened, revealing a hint of insecurity. ‘Henri, my friends are just friends. I’m not attracted to Richard or anyone else. We’re colleagues.’

‘It is not right for you to surround yourself with all these men. Think of your reputation.’

A fire flared within me. ‘To hell with my reputation.’ I leaned back in my chair, gritting my teeth. ‘Those men are my friends. Besides, is it right for you to be out with a different woman every night?’ I wondered how many marriage proposals he had handed out so far. My mother’s words echoed in my mind: You’ll never amount to anything, my girl. My heart lurched, a lump tightening in my throat as tears threatened. I was nearing twenty-seven, and all too soon, I’d be thirty. Then what? All the doubts and fears rose to the surface. Would I let them win? Did they make sense? If I rejected him again, it would be over, and I’d be alone. The thought of life without Henri terrified me. I’d given him my heart, my soul, and we were bound by an invisible, sacred bond. Life with him smelled of roses and champagne, of cedarwood cologne. His warmth as I lay in his arms was all I needed to feel safe and loved.

‘Nancy, I love you. What more can I say to convince you?’ Henri exhaled a long breath, slumping in his seat, a look of dejection shadowing his face. ‘There has never been anyone like you. You are so special to me. I do not want anyone else.’

‘I don’t want to be a kept woman, Henri. I love my work, and I’m not a fool.’

‘Marry me. Let me look after you, although, as much as I hate to admit it, you are probably the only woman I have ever known who could take on the world and win.’ He reached across the table, taking my hand in his, his thumb brushing over my wrist. ‘You do not need to be looked after, but if you will allow it, I’d like to be by your side, always. Marry me, Nancy.’ He pulled out the ring box again, opening the lid and setting it on the table.

The same ring, and what a beaut! As I gazed at the sparkling diamond, my heart drummed, and the breath caught in my throat. ‘Tell me you’re sure, Henri. That I’m enough for you.’

‘Mon amour.’ He took my hands in his, his voice soft and steady. ‘I am sure. I will never hurt you. I want nothing more than to love you.’

Blood surged through my veins as I gazed into his eyes. I loved him, body and soul, and deep down, I believed his words were true. All this time, I’d thought I was just another of his companions, a mere trophy. But now, as I looked into his eyes, I knew it was more than that. ‘Oui.’ The word slipped out, and Henri beamed as he gently slid the ring onto my finger.