Not a Flower - A Novel

Chapter 2

Two weeks later Grace was stepping out from the muggy interior of the airport and onto the busy rental car pickup area outside of the London Heathrow.

She took a deep breath of crisp English early morning air and was grateful that she had decided to pack lightly since she had to carry everything herself. Her luggage consisted of only one small carry-on bag and a medium sized suitcase. Since the suitcase was on wheels, at least it was easy to maneuver around.

The hubbub of Heathrow Airport felt new and exciting for Grace. She had always loved traveling but unfortunately she hadn't done much outside of a few small trips to Chicago for work and once to California for a last minute trip alone.

In fact, she mused feeling slightly bittersweet, her first time going to La Mer was not only her first time outside of the United States, but her only time as well. And that had been almost ten years ago now. During the first summer after Elizabeth and Duval had gotten married. Despite her unhappiness at the time, she still remembered how absolutely breathtaking Duval's family home was.

La Mer was located near the small seaside city of Criccieth in northern Wales. It actually wasn't a castle either. It was actually a large stone and wood hunting lodge that had been carefully renovated when Duval's parents purchased the place. Boasting all the niceties of modern luxuries while still retaining an air of history that made it possible to imagine the bygone days of men wearing kilts and carrying swords.

That name had come about in the late 1800's when one of the previous owners, a Laird who had fancied himself quite the poet, had written a poem called Château de La Mer, or 'Castle of the sea' while at the hunting lodge on a tryst with his mistress. The poem had been immensely popular among the locals due to the notoriety of the Laird. Before long, the hunting lodge had become simply known as La Mer.

Ahead of time, she had mapped out a driving route that would take her up along the Welsh coast from London all the way to Criccieth. That route was a few hours longer than going directly through the middle of England, but it was also car more scenic in her opinion.

Grace sighed. If she were honest with herself, she had also chosen the longer route because she was in no rush to get to La Mer. Even now, just thinking about being there and seeing Duval again, was giving her anxiety.

Dragging her suitcase through the crowded sidewalk, Grace fought her way to the curb where there was a sign with the rental car company logo on it, and waited for her car to pull up. The woman at the rental desk had told her that the rental car was a white Mini-Cooper. So far, there was no sign of her car.

Grace fiddled with her cell phone as she waited, trying to find the music playlist that her co-worker had made for her drive. She also had a few audiobooks prepared just in case.

"Are you Grace Madison?" Someone asked from behind her. His voice lacked the crisp English accent of most everyone around her. If anything, he sounded American.

Eyebrows raised in surprise Grace turned to see who the speaker was. She was startled to see a tall, broad shouldered man standing there who somehow looked extremely familiar even though she definitely didn't know who he was. How had he known her name? Her confusion must have shown because he quickly introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm Adrian Roussiard." He said and held out a hand. He added, "I'm Duval's younger brother."

Grace automatically reached out and they shook hands briefly. His palm was warm and rough, rasping pleasantly against hers. Then his words sunk in. He was Duval's brother?

Grace stared, her hand slowly sinking back down to her side. Of course, that explained the sense of familiarity. But only very vaguely did she recall that Duval had a younger brother. He might have mentioned it once in the passing a long time ago but she had never actually met him. Elizabeth had told her once that there was some sort of bad blood between the youngest son and the rest of the family.