A Rather Charming Invitation Read Free

spied its prey, she reached into the chaos, and pulled out a violet-colored envelope, lightly scented with violet sachet, addressed in a perfect, beautiful schoolgirl handwriting.
    “Voilà! ” she said triumphantly, handing it to me.
    It was really quite lovely stationery, elegant and artful, as if from a bygone European era. While everyone watched, I opened the envelope carefully, unfolding the matching note inside:
    We are so delighted to hear of your upcoming marriage, and wish to invite you and your fiancé to dine with us at our country cottage.
    It was signed by Leonora. The invitation, indeed sent weeks ago, was for this upcoming weekend. “So sorry!” I said, deeply embarrassed. Honorine shrugged.
    “Thank you, Danny,” Jeremy said in his lawyer’s voice. “We can take it from here.”
    “Just keep her off the streets and out of the pubs, hey?” Danny said as he departed.
    “Won’t you come in and sit down?” I asked Honorine, leading her through the hallway. She followed more shyly, now that the danger of being arrested was past, and she realized she was entering our little sanctuary.
    Jeremy, ever observant, and with that quiet English reserve of his that goes a long way toward calming people down, said, “Honorine, when’s the last time you’ve eaten?”
    She was well-brought-up enough to deny the necessity of feeding her, so she answered very casually, “Oh, in Paris, just before I boarded the train.”
    “That must have been ages ago,” I commented.
    Honorine admitted that, upon her arrival in London, she had walked all the way from the station to the house where she expected to find her friend, and then spent the whole day searching for her. We insisted she come into the kitchen and share our supper. Jeremy and I had dined out at lunchtime rather significantly with law colleagues of his, so I’d planned to have only soup tonight. But I managed to add some tasty cold sandwiches on a nice fresh baguette, with olives and a green salad, all of which Honorine ate very gratefully. Despite her genteel manners, it was obvious that she was really quite hungry.
    Between her French delicacy and Jeremy’s reserve, the conversation would have been quiet and tactful, with huge gaps of unspoken questions. However, although my bloodline is both French and English, I am an American, and we have no qualms about cutting to the chase.
    “So, what’s up, Honorine? Did you run away from home?” I asked, half-teasing and half-serious. Her startled, then sheepish expression made it clear that she had indeed flown the coop.
    But all she said was, “What must you think of me!” She sighed, glancing down in embarrassment at her own dusty, disheveled state. “ Normalement , I would not choose this foolish way to introduce myself to my famous cousine , Penny Nichols, ‘the international, adventuring American heiress’!” she exclaimed with a smile as she quoted the papers. “I wonder,” she murmured, “if I might impose upon you further, to allow me to wash up a bit? Then I will look for a student hostel or something—”
    I saw the fatigued look in her eyes. “You can stay overnight,” I said promptly. “We have a guest suite upstairs, so you’ll have a bath and bed to yourself. Tomorrow we’ll sort this all out.”
    “ Merci ,” she said, following me up the staircase. We passed the second floor, which had belonged to Great- Aunt Penelope, with its library, two bedrooms, dining room and little kitchen; these were now our living quarters. Jeremy and I had managed to pool some of our unexpected windfall to buy the other two apartments from elderly residents eager to retire to warmer climes. We’d converted the first level into our offices. The third-floor flat was a one-bedroom version of the second, perfect for guests.
    “You’ll have plenty of privacy here,” I assured Honorine. She gave me a grateful smile as I left, closing the door behind me.
    When I came back downstairs, Jeremy had already