Echoes Page 0,15

everything.

“Thank you for taking us to lunch, you were so nice to my mother and Brigitte.”

“Don't be silly. They were very nice to me. Although your sister is going to be a terror and break men's hearts. I hope they marry her off soon.”

“They will,” Beata said with a quiet smile. She had particularly appreciated the way he had reacted to Brigitte. He kept her in her place, teased her like the child she was, and had no romantic interest in her whatsoever. Beata felt unkind for it, but she was pleased. Brigitte was a lot for her to live with. “She's more or less in love with one of Horst's friends, and my father is going to talk to his father soon. I'm sure she'll be engaged by the end of the year.”

“And what about you?” Antoine asked, looking concerned, although Beata didn't see it. “Are they going to settle on someone for you?”

“I hope not. I won't do that. I don't think I'll ever marry,” she said quietly, and she sounded as though she meant it.

“Why not?”

“Because I can't imagine wanting someone they pick out for me. The thought of it makes me feel ill. I don't want a husband I don't love, or know, or want. I'd rather be alone, forever.” There was real vehemence in her voice, as he watched her, feeling both relieved and sad for her.

“Forever is a long time, Beata. You'll want to have children, and you should. Maybe you'll meet someone you'll fall in love with one day. I'm sure you will. You're only twenty, you have your whole life ahead of you.” He sounded sad as he said it, and as she looked at him, their eyes met and held for a long time before she answered him.

“So do you.”

“I have a war to fight. Who knows which of us will survive it? Men are dropping like flies on the battlefields.” And then as he said it, he thought of her brothers, and was sorry to have said what he did. “I'm sure we'll all come out of it in the end, but it makes it hard to think about the future. I've always thought I would stay single, too. I don't think I've ever been in love,” he said honestly, looking at her, and his next words stunned her almost as much as he stunned himself, “until I met you.” There was an endless silence after he spoke, and she had no idea what to answer, except that she knew she was in love with him, too, and they had just met. It was a crazy thing for him to say, and for either of them to feel, but they did, and there was nothing they would ever be able to do about it. It was impossible and they both knew it, but he had said it anyway.

“I'm Jewish,” she blurted out. “I can never marry you,” she said as tears filled her eyes, and he took her hand in his.

“Stranger things have happened, Beata. People do marry outside their faith.” He had been fantasizing about marrying her all day. It was a crazy dream for both of them, but he couldn't deny what he felt. It had taken him thirty-two years to find her, and he didn't want to lose her yet. Or ever, if he could help it. But there were certainly obstacles in their path. It would be difficult at best. His own family would be incensed. He was the Comte de Vallerand, a count, and he hadn't even told her that yet. He was sure it would make no difference to her. What they were drawn to in each other was far deeper than faith or titles or position or birth. He loved everything about her, what she said and how she felt, how she viewed the world, and she loved the same things about him. They were drawn to each other for the right reasons, but their faith and their nationalities and allegiances and families would conspire to keep them apart. The trick would be not to let them win, if they could do it. That remained to be seen.

“My family would never allow it. My father would kill me. They would disown me,” she said in response to his comment about people marrying outside their faith. In her family, it was unheard of.

“Maybe not, if we went to them one day. Mine would be upset, too. They'd have to have time to get used