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didn’t last the whole evening.” Anne teased her.
    Sylvie’s cheeks turned as red as her hair. Anne was sure her daughters believed they’d shielded her from the knowledge that Jefferson and Sylvie had been intimate their first night together, during the blackout. Why did the younger generation always think that their elders knew less than they did about sex?
    She touched Sylvie’s arm. “He’s the right one, that’s all that’s important, sweetheart.”
    Sylvie sighed. “Three days, four hours and—” she consulted the ornate watch pinned to her bodice “—sixteen minutes until he and Emily return from Boston.”
    “I like Emily,” Anne said of Sylvie’s prospective stepdaughter. “And Daisy Rose adores her.”
    “Me, too, though—” Sylvie shook her head. “The mother of a teenager—can you imagine?”
    “Serves you right that it’s one who also has a navel piercing.” But she liked it that Sylvie already termed herself Emily’s mother, not stepmother.
    Sylvie winced. “Thank goodness she’s agreed to let the tongue piercing grow back.”
    “Teenagers have to test their parents.” Anne studied the daughter who’d done more than her share, if less than Anne’s youngest, Melanie.
    “I guess it’s simple justice,” Sylvie said. “But I thought I’d have more time before I paid for my sins.”
    “I’d say you don’t deserve it,” Anne responded with a tug on her daughter’s hair. “But I try not to lie to my loved ones.”
    They shared an uninhibited laugh and a quick hug. “I love you, Mama. It’s so wonderful to hear you laugh again. William wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would he?”
    Anne glanced away from her daughter’s too-seeing eyes. She didn’t want another lecture. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “All I’m going to say is—” Sylvie bent near “—you go, girl. He’s a hunk. One of those who gets better with age.”
    Flustered, Anne waved her off. “I don’t think of William that way,” she protested.
    “Mama,” Sylvie’s tone was serious. “Papa wouldn’t want you to be alone. He loved you too much to wish that on you.”
    Anne had to swallow the lump in her throat. She knew Sylvie was right in some ways but wrong in others. Remy had been fiercely possessive of her, his temper as easily aroused as his passion. More than one man had been set straight when he attempted to flirt with her.
    And none of them had been his enemy, the way William had. Remy might not want her to be lonely, but that was a long way from approving of William Armstrong paying attention to her.
    Kissing her. Making it clear that he wanted her.
    “Oh, honey, I don’t know…”
    “He’s a good man, Mama. His eyes watch you all the time.”
    Anne pried herself from her daughter’s embrace. “I can’t talk about it.” She fluttered her hands. “You go on to work now. All that’s on my mind today is a certain young lady I’m taking to the zoo. I’m a grandmother, and that’s enough for me, that and the hotel. I’ve had my life, and now it’s your turn.”
    “You’re wrong,” Sylvie said, her eyes sad. “But I know better than to argue when you get this way. I’ll leave it to William to make his case.” She found a smile. “I think he’s up to the challenge.”
    “Get on with you.” Anne shooed her. “We’re simply friends,” she said for the second time this morning, even though she was afraid she agreed with Sylvie’s assessment. William Armstrong did nothing by halves.
    But then, neither did Anne Marchand.
    Resolved not to think of him again and to cancel their dinner, she turned in search of a little girl looking forward to a visit to the zoo.

CHAPTER FOUR
    W ILLIAM PEERED OUT the wall of windows in his office overlooking Canal Street, pondering the latest report from his source at the Hotel Marchand. Given the hotel’s straits, he’d felt it prudent to have a neutral set of eyes in place. He was as aware as Anne that her