Madeleine's Christmas Wish by Ella Quinn Page B

She sat up as if she’d been scalded. How could she have done such a thing?
    He calmly set her bonnet on her head, and announced, “We are in Paris.”
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    After discovering that the next day’s mail coach was already booked, Georges asked to be notified of any cancellations, and purchased tickets on the next available diligence . A few hours later, he and Madeleine ambled through the streets, taking in the sights, until they reached the Notre Dame.
    Christmas market stalls filled the large area around the cathedral and backed up to its walls. After strolling around for several minutes, he found what he was looking for: artists painting likenesses on small disks that could be hung by a ribbon or gold cord on a Christmas tree.
    Georges led Madeleine by the hand to a woman who was saying good-bye to a young couple. He approached the artist, and said, “We would like our portraits done.”
    â€œTogether or separately?” the artist asked.
    â€œTogether.” He had to show Madeleine they were meant to be together.
    They sat on a small bench, and he wrapped his arm around her. In the years to come, what would their children think of them depicted in traveling clothes?
    The artist resumed her place behind an easel. “Please remove your hat and madam her bonnet so your faces are not in the shadows.”
    He and Madeleine did as the woman asked. Fortunately it was not so cold as to be uncomfortable. While the painter worked, music filtered from the church.
    â€œ ‘Noël nouvelet,’ ” he whispered to Madeleine.
    â€œI recognized it,” she replied softly.
    â€œMadam, monsieur.” The artist’s tone was firm. “Please, you must be still.” A half hour later the woman stretched her back. “Come back in an hour and it will be ready.”
    â€œMerci, madam,” he replied. Glancing at his pocket watch, he turned to Madeleine. “Shall we do some shopping first, or have something to eat?”
    â€œShopping.” She grinned. “I saw a stall with cheese I’d like to look at. Then perhaps we can eat at the restaurant with the large trays of oysters. That is always one of the best parts of Christmas.”
    He tucked her closer to him. “I agree.”
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    Stars still twinkled in the antelucan sky as Georges gazed down at Madeleine sleeping soundly in their bed. He prided himself on his control, but being celibate with her was about to kill him. When he realized that would be treating her as he had all those he’d needed information from over the years, his plan to seduce her had turned to ashes. He’d not despoil his love for her.
    He played with the idea of hiring a coach, but it would have taken longer, and he had a feeling he could not shake, that they must get to Beaune as soon as possible. At least he had another day alone with her before they left for Dijon.
    He kissed her brow, and Madeleine made a small sigh.
    Yesterday, they had visited so many of the Christmas markets, their bags were now overflowing with presents she had brought for her family from countries such as Germany and Belgium. He’d placed their ornament in his valise. It would be the first one on their tree this year. The oysters had been delicious, and later the spiced wine and sausages tasted particularly fine as the cold nipped their noses. He’d bought a cone of candied nuts, and ate more than half of them, protesting they would make her ill again. Although, Madeleine had seemed content enough to allow him to pay for her purchases; he could almost see her calculating what she would owe him.
    He lay back down. Fortunately there was no reason they had to be up early this morning. He could enjoy merely holding her.
    Last night, he’d decided that before he made her his wife in truth, he must disclose some of what he’d done during the war. Considering her father had passed information, Madeleine would probably not be shocked.