The sky had been overcast and threatening all day, and now that threat was being fulfilled in long silver spears of rain, dashing themselves against the ancient panes. She leaned her forehead thankfully against the cool glass. The pins which Madame Bresson had lent her to secure her coiffure seemed individually and collectively intent on impaling her scalp, and the weight of the veil was dragging at her neck.She was alone, for the first time that day it seemed. Blaise had gone out into the hall to bid goodbye to Monsieur le Cure, and the local doctor who had lingered behind after the other guests who had come back to drink their health at the chateau had departed.Andrea had smiled and murmured thanks for their rather boisterous congratulations until she thought her face would break in half with the effort of it all.She heard the heavy outer door close, and swung round waiting for Blaise to reappear. In the formality of a dark suit and white shirt he seemed even taller and infinitely less approachable than he had ever been.
