That afternoon it was France’s turn to hand Germany an ultimatum and then, when Hitler resisted it, to declare war.
The French military set up command posts on the rooftop of the Grand Hotel. Rick moved out of the penthouse and into the Villa Sanctuaire.
“I always liked this spot,” he said as Annabel came down to see if he needed anything.
He’d already told her last night, over cocktails and dinner, that he wasn’t planning to stay here long. It had been a sober conversation, discussing what to do about the Grand Hotel. Rick thought he should just board it up and “fill it with hungry Dobermans who’ll tear to pieces any invading armies.”
“Oncle JP says that it will probably be commissioned as a hospital,” she told him now. She was feeling apprehensive about everything these days; it all seemed up for grabs.
“Sit down, Annabel,” Rick said, gesturing at the table near the villa’s pool. It was strange, but already this villa no longer felt as if it belonged to Jack and Téa. In the way of all hotel rooms, it had somehow, skillfully, been reverted by the staff into the anonymity of a place where people came and people left and still others replaced them, until the end of time.
“What are your plans for the staff?” she asked warily.
“Most of them are gone, anyway,” Rick pointed out.
“Marta and Raphael said they would stay on, if we want them to,” Annabel replied. “They both became French citizens, years ago. I did not know this, until now.”
“That’s fine,” Rick said noncommittally.
“And my uncle,” she reminded him. “He cannot be moved, just yet.”
“I’ve already offered to let him stay at this villa or the cottage, whichever he wants, for him and Delphine,” he replied. He’d kept his eyes on Annabel the whole time, waiting.
“That is kind of you,” she answered carefully. “But first I want to move Oncle JP to Switzerland as soon as he’s able. If we can get in. Dr. Gaspard said it would be a good idea for Delphine, too. There is a clinic, he says, that specializes in helping polio survivors.”
Rick understood what she was saying. “Done,” he said briskly. “Don’t worry about getting them in. I’ll arrange for whatever paperwork they’ll need, and cover the cost. But sooner is better than later. Say the word and I’ll get them both safely out, tout de suite.”
Annabel nodded slowly. She felt as if she were seeing the future already. Rick’s handsome, happy-go-lucky face had a new seriousness now. But he was young, raised to think of the world as his oyster, expecting to get anything he wanted. He and his kind would somehow pass through this war unscathed. He wasn’t yet facing the sorts of pressures that his father would surely bring to bear on him, once Rick actually began to take over the Grand Hotel and, eventually, the entire business empire that his family had built. With such responsibilities, there might come a change in attitude. How long would Rick be able to resist the pull of his father’s orbit, before he adopted his father’s hard, transactional values and became more like him each day, a ruthless businessman and womanizer?
“I love you, Annabel,” Rick said gently now.
His face looked so sincere that she finally allowed herself to feel the affection that had been steadily growing between them despite her best efforts to resist it. Still, these warmer feelings toward him did not alter what she knew to be true about Rick and his family.
Annabel took a deep breath. She also knew in her soul that the kind of love she’d been raised on could never be bought and sold. She still ached for Jack, for her parents, even for an unknown suitor who might offer a modest but truer love, instead of a bargain. She’d never been taught how to be ruthless, and she knew that if one truly hardened one’s heart, love might never find its way in again. But she must not be naive today. So she was seeking a way to be pragmatic without surrendering her humanity.
“If we got married, you’d never have anything to worry about,” Rick promised.
Nothing that Annabel had ever known had lasted forever. And at least she’d learned a sense of duty from Oncle JP. So perhaps she could use her love for him and Delphine to find a way to tread this line with Rick. She must simply seize what life gave her and make the most of it.
One thing was clear: she would never be in a stronger position with Rick than now, when she was, for him, like that golden ring he kept reaching out for every time his pony on the merry-go-round circled past her.
“I hope you’ll understand what I am about to ask,” she said softly. “I would like you to put in writing all of these lovely promises you’re making to me today. I will depend on you to make good your offers of protection—financial and otherwise—for me, for Oncle JP, for Delphine, and—if you and I have any children, for them, as well.”
Rick had looked slightly taken aback at first, but now, at the mention of children, he smiled. “Of course,” he said in a light, gallant tone.
“Would you also lease the Villa Sanctuaire to Oncle JP, and the Jasmine Cottage to me?” she asked.
“You can have a ninety-nine-year lease on both if you want,” Rick said with a sweep of his hand. “We’re going to build an annex down the street, which will essentially be like a second hotel.”
“That’s very generous, thank you,” she said earnestly. “I have only one other request. I want the staff of the Grand Hotel guaranteed to have their jobs restored as soon as the war is over. Especially Oncle JP, if he is up to it, and if he wants it.”
“Good Lord, Annabel,” Rick protested. “Most of the staff probably won’t even—”
“Yes, they will,” she said quickly. “They will come back. Do you need to ask your papa’s permission for this?”
“No,” Rick said a trifle glumly. “I’ll catch hell for it, but too bad. If it’s what you want, then it’s what I want. Father’s been after me to marry and settle down, so this is the price he’ll have to pay for it. He’ll understand that. So do we have a deal?”
Annabel smiled with genuine warmth now. “Yes, we do. And—Rick, I just want you to know—I’ll make it my business to make you a good wife.”
Rick brightened again, in that boyish way in which nothing ever darkened his brow for very long. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewel box. “I hope you like it,” he said, as he pushed it across the table. “If you don’t, I can always change it.”
The ring had a lovely gold setting with a large diamond nestled in it that glowed with subtle superiority. There was nothing showy or ostentatious about this ring. Yet it was a prize.
“It’s perfect,” she said gratefully.
“Good.” Rick slipped it on her finger with the look of a man who’d finally sealed a deal and gotten his hands on a rare work of art that he’d been chasing after for some time.
Annabel tried not to feel like an auctioned-off museum piece already.
“May I kiss you now?” he asked with playful formality.
“Yes,” she replied.
He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. He was a pretty good kisser, after all.
From a village off in the distance, they heard a church bell toll. Annabel was startled and thought fleetingly of Jack and the old church high up in the mountains. She told herself that perhaps it was his soul, giving her his blessings, telling her to move on with her life, when, really, there was no other choice.
“To you and me and the Grand Hotel,” Rick was saying, as he produced a bottle of champagne and popped it open. “And while we’re at it: vive la France.”
“Yes. For all of us,” Annabel said, accepting the glass he offered her.