Danielle Steel - Leap of Faith

“Marie-Ange, I'm falling in love with you,” he said quietly, with a look of concern. “This has never happened to me since I lost my wife, and I don't want anyone to get hurt.” As she looked at him, her heart went out to him, and she realized that they were becoming more than just “friends.” “Does that sound insane to you? That it should happen so soon?” he asked her with worried eyes. “I'm so much older than you. I have no right to pull you into my life, particularly if you want to go back to America. But I find that all I want now is to be with you. How do you feel about that?”

“Very touched,” she said cautiously. “I never thought you would feel that way, Bernard.” He was so sophisticated, and so glamorous, she was flattered to think that he was falling in love with her, and she realized that she was beginning to feel a great deal more for him as well. She had never let herself think about it before, because she had been so determined that they were only friends. But he had not only opened his heart to her, but his home as well. She had imposed on him mercilessly, staying at the chateau with him, and now all she wanted was to be there with him. She couldn't help wondering if this was the life she had been destined for, and the man.

“What are we going to do about this, my love?” he asked her with such tenderness in his eyes that this time when he kissed her beneath the tree where she had played as a child, she was no longer surprised.

“I don't know. I've never been in love before,” she admitted to him. She was not only a virgin physically, but emotionally as well. There had never been a serious love in her life until then, and suddenly everything was new to her, and more than a little dazzling, like Bernard himself.

“Perhaps we should give it a little time,” he said sensibly. But from that moment on sensible seemed to be impossible for either of them.

They stayed at Marmouton for longer than they had planned, and he brought her flowers, and small thoughtful gifts, they kissed constantly, and Bernard was so passionately in love with her that Marie-Ange was swept away on the wave of all that she felt for him as well. And finally he made love to her for the first time, in November, just a little over a month after they'd met. And as they lay in each other's arms afterward, he said all the things that she had never dared to dream she would hear from any man.

“I want to marry you,” he whispered to her, “I want to have children with you. I want to be with you all the time we can.” He told her, having lost a wife and son, he knew how ephemeral life could be, and he didn't want to lose a single moment this time. And Marie-Ange had never been as happy in her life. “This isn't respectable, Marie-Ange,” he complained to her finally. He was worried about her. “I'm a forty-year-old man, you're still a very young girl. I don't like the kind of things people will say about you, if they discover that we're having an affair. It's not fair to you.” He looked distressed, and she looked panicked, thinking that he was ending their romance. But he clarified it immediately, much to her relief. “You have no family to lend you respectability. You're completely at my mercy, and alone in the world.”

“I think being ‘at your mercy’ is very nice,” she teased.

“Well, I don't. If you had a family to protect you, it would be a different story. But you don't.”

“So what do you suggest? Do you want to adopt me?” She was smiling once she knew that he was not ending it with her. She loved the way he worried about her, and wanted to protect her. No one had ever done that before, except Billy, and he was only a boy. Bernard was very much a man. He was old enough to be her father, and he acted like one sometimes. But having lost her own at such an early age, she loved the protection he offered, and his obvious concern. She was totally in love with him.

“I don't want to adopt you, Marie-Ange,” he said solemnly, almost reverently, as she reached out and touched his hand. “I want to marry you. I don't think we should wait much longer. We haven't known each other for long, but we know each other better than most people who get married after five years. We have no secrets from each other, we've been together almost every instant since we met. Marie-Ange,” he looked at her tenderly, “I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my life.”

“I love you too, Bernard,” she said softly, amazed by what he was suggesting. It had all happened so quickly, but it seemed so perfectly right to her too. There was no more thought of school. Just Bernard and returning to the chateau—and having a family. He was offering her a life that seemed more like a dream.

“Let's get married this week. Here, in Mar-mouton. We can be married in the chapel, and then begin our life together. It will be a new start for both of us,” and one they both wanted more than anything or anyone else. “Will you?”

“I … yes … I will.” He held her close for a long time, and then they walked back to the house hand in hand. They made love for hours that afternoon. And he called the priest and made the arrangements the next day. And after he did, she called Billy, from the chateau this time. At first, she had no idea what to tell him, and in the end, she just blurted it out. She was worried about hurting him, although she had always discouraged him from having romantic thoughts about her. But she knew how much he cared about her.

“You're doing what}” Billy shouted at her in disbelief. “I thought you were just friends.” He sounded horrified by what she had told him, and he accused her of losing her mind since she arrived in France. She had never been impulsive before, but she was madly in love with Bernard, and he was a powerful force now in her life, a man with passion and determination and a forceful way about him. He had completely swept Marie-Ange off her feet in an incredibly short time.

“We were just friends, but things changed,” she said in a small voice. She hadn't expected him to be quite as upset as he was.

“Apparently. Look, Marie-Ange, just give it some time, and see if this is real. You just got there, it was emotional for you, going back to the chateau. It's all wrapped up in that.” He was pleading with her.

“No, it's not,” she insisted. “It's him.” He didn't want to ask her if she was sleeping with him, he had already guessed that she was. And she absolutely wouldn't listen to him. He was worried sick about her when he got off the phone, but he knew there was nothing he could do. She was marrying a perfect stranger, Billy thought, mostly because he was living in her father's chateau. And what's more, he was a count. He felt utterly helpless to change her mind.

“Who was that?” Bernard asked her when she got off the phone.

“My best friend in Iowa.” She smiled at him. “He thinks I've lost my mind.” She was sorry to have upset Billy, but she was entirely sure of Bernard, and his love for her, and hers for him.

“So have I.” Bernard smiled. “It must be contagious.”

“What did the priest say?” she asked calmly. She wasn't worried about any of the things Billy said. He was suspicious of Bernard, understandably, and only time would prove him wrong. But she had wanted him to know that she and Bernard were getting married. He was, after all, her best friend, and like a brother to her. In the end, he had said to call him if she came to her senses, or even if she didn't. And he promised her that he would always be her friend, and be there for her. But as much as she loved him, she needed him less now. She had been completely absorbed in Bernard's heady world, and she couldn't help wondering what his friends would think, but he didn't seem to care. They were both absolutely certain that they were doing the right thing.