Grace couldn't find her car. When she asked Mr. Lowery, he insisted on having her driven into town by the Roussiard's personal chauffeur instead.

Seeing the steel in the older man's eyes, she meekly agreed but gave profuse thanks. Once comfortably ensconced in the cool climate controlled interior of a sleek black limousine, she was glad Mr. Lowery had insisted. The chauffeur was a distinguished older woman who told Grace to call her Beth.

Grace stared out the window, watching the scenery pass by, lost in her thoughts until Beth rapped lightly on the tinted windows. They had arrived.

Grace grabbed her purse and stepped out into the bright sunlight as Beth held the door opened for her. Although it was still early, not even noon yet, there were already hordes of people moving about and shopping. Wales wasn't London but it was filled with excited tourists shopping.

"I'll wait for you here, Ms. Madison." Beth told her cheerfully. With her neat little black hat smartly perched on top of silvered blond hair, the pretty older woman handed her a small card. "Here's my mobile in case you get lost. Feel free to call for help. No shame in asking for help sometimes."

Grace grinned. "Thanks Beth. This is worth its weight in gold. I'm terrible finding my way around new places."

With her hand shading her eyes, Grace made her way to the open market where the most delicious smells were drifting from. It was gorgeous and uncharacteristically warm outside.

She unzipped her sweatshirt and slung her purse over one shoulder. As she walked by a cafe selling fragrant scones and tea, Grace made a note to buy some for Beth on her way back. She felt bad that Beth was stuck waiting for her all morning and vowed to hurry. An hour at the most.

Passing by a stand hawking some cute, teenager-type silver charms and earrings, Grace stopped in front of a simple stand where a slender man with beautiful dark eyes was sketching portraits for twenty-five dollars a piece. His current subject was a smiling couple, gladly holding their pose since it meant leaning into each other.

The artist had captured the couple's happiness. On the creamy white surface of paper, amazingly likenesses of the rosy cheeked young woman and the good-natured charm of the young man were captured for all eternity.

Smiling at the skill of the artist and feeling a bit wistful at how comfortable the woman seemed with her lover's arm wrapped around her waist, Grace wondered if she would ever be able to feel that magical and wonderful sense of belonging.

Did all people feel that loneliness, that nagging consciousness that something important was missing from their lives?

"Miss. Are you well?"

The artist had finished with his drawing already. His drawling voice held a thick Irish brogue that was as charming as it was strong. The couple was walking away hand-in-hand, heads bent together as they laughed and examined the masterfully executed portrait of themselves. Wiping his hands with a piece of clean rag, the artist was carefully studying her.

Feeling like an idiot, Grace felt her face turn a dull red. "Hi—I was just daydreaming a bit. I'm fine."

He didn't seem convinced. Opening a small white cooler, he pulled out an icy cold can of cola. "Here, drink this. You seemed a bit flushed."

Grace had to admit the soda looked tempting but she wasn't in the habit of accepting things from strangers.

"Thank you, but I'm fine." She shook her head and felt like a little kid.

The artist merely nodded and put the can back into the cooler. Then crossing his arms, he tilted his head.

"Would you like to have your portrait drawn? It would make a nice gift for your boyfriend."

"I don't have a—." Grace stopped. With a weak smile, she told him, "Thank you. Maybe another time."

Obviously here in England, people didn't push too hard for a sell because the artist only shrugged. He didn't lack for business though.

As she was walking away and feeling a bit regretful for not agreeing to a portrait, two young girls had already sat down on the bench and posing. Grinning at something they said, the artist lightly flirted as he flipped out a fresh page and got down to the business of drawing.

Down the street a little there was a small shop with windows displaying formal dresses in summery shades of sky blue and rose pink. Although Grace hadn't really meant to buy a dress that day she couldn't help but step into the store, drawn by the beautiful colors and shimmering fabrics.

There was nobody about except for a tall gorgeous auburn and the saleswoman helping her. Drifting along the rack of dresses, she took her time perusing. Shopping was luxury she didn't often have back home and she found herself enjoying it.

"Grace? Are you Grace Madison?"

The chirpy voice sounded vaguely familiar. Grace turned to see that the saleswoman who had been helping the auburn hair woman was now standing behind her with her head tilted inquisitively. Bright brown eyes stared unabashedly at her as Grace tried to remember who the woman was.

"I'm sorry..." Grace looked in vain for a name badge of some sort. "I—."

"I'm Abby! Abby Roussiard. Duval's cousin. Don't you remember me from that time when you and Duval rescued me from drowning that summer?"

Grace was stunned. This slender, pretty blond haired young woman was the same gangly pre-teen that had foolishly gone swimming at high tide—when she didn't know how to swim. Duval had swum out into the frigid and dangerously unstable waters and dragged the unconscious Abby back. Grace had used CPR to bring Abby back to consciousness and it had been one of the most harrowing five minutes of her life.

"Abby?" Grace whispered.

She had blocked so much of her memories from Elizabeth's and Duval's marriage that she had actually forgotten about Abby whom had then followed Grace around with heroine worship in her eyes the rest of the summer.

"Guess what?" Abby continued blithely, seemingly unaware that her appearance had just opened up a whole new flood of bittersweet memories in Grace. "I've been accepted to the medical school in London. I'm going there this fall!"

"That's wonderful!" Grace impulsively gave the younger woman a hug. "You'd make a great doctor."

"Thank you, but it was because of you that made me want to be a doctor." Abby told her, her small face suddenly serious. "That summer after you saved my life, I realized that was what I wanted to do. Save lives."

Listening to Abby talk about her dreams made Grace realize that somewhere along the way she had forgotten how much she loved being a doctor. When had it ceased being about saving lives and had become just a never-ending source of stress? Was she already burned out after only a few years?

"Maybe while you're here, I can talk to you about being a doctor." Abby was saying a bit shyly.

Grace nodded with real pleasure. It would be nice to have another woman to talk to while she was there.

"Grace Madison?"

This time the voice belonged to the auburn haired woman that Abby had been helping out earlier. Grace tried to remember if she knew the woman but unlike Abby's, the voice didn't ring any bells.

Before Grace could say anything, the woman began speaking quickly.

"I'm Vivian Kent. I know you don't know me but I've heard so much about you that I feel as if I almost know you." She gave a small laugh. "This is such a surprise to see you here. After all, Duval had told me that he hadn't expected you to come here."

For some reason, she seemed to be subtly accusing Grace of something. What it was, she had no idea.

Then as the woman spoke, Grace finally grasped what was going on. Vivian Kent. This was Duval's fiancée. The woman that Duval was going to marry.

Grace suddenly felt a bit sick. She gave a weak smile to the beautiful woman who gave her a blinding one in return.

"It's such a pleasure to meet you." Grace said slowly. "And by the way, congratulations on your wedding." U

ntil that moment, Grace hadn't known that she'd had such a great acting talent. But it had taken all of her nerve to say those words to a woman who was going to marry Duval.

"This is so cool!" Abby broke in the awkward silence with her bright voice. "I didn't know that my cousin was getting married again."

Was it Grace's imagination or did Vivian's face get a bit paler. Then she shot Grace a strangely vulnerable and uncertain look.

"I know that Duval was married before." Vivian said tensely. She gave Grace another look. "But he never talks about it."

Grace hid her shock. Duval hadn't told Vivian about Elizabeth?

"Were you married to Duval, Grace?"

The question so surprised Grace that for a moment, she could only stare mutely at Duval's beautiful fiancée. The other woman took her silence for assent and broke into a stilted laughter.

"Now I know why he never talks about it. I just knew that he was lying when he told me that you and he were only friends. Maybe I shouldn't say be saying this, god knows what you must be thinking of me, but dammit, how could Duval keep this from me?"

Wiping at eyes filled with angry tears, Vivian glared at Grace.

"You know that he's still in love with you right? That's why he never says those words to me. He tells me he 'cares' for me. He loves 'being' with me. But never that he loves me. It doesn't matter. I love him and I will marry him and make him forget all about—."

Abby's face was bright red. But she broke into Vivian's tirade determinedly.

"Stop saying those things, Ms. Kent!"

Vivian stopped but she was breathing a little harshly. Grace couldn't help but feel a wave of sympathy for the other woman as she realized that it wasn't anger but pain that was causing her to say all of those things.

"Ms. Kent, Duval was never married to Grace."

"What?" Vivian's brows lowered in confusion. She looked from Grace to Abby. Feeling full of righteousness, Abby set things straight with a few simple words.

"No. Duval was married to Elizabeth Madison. Grace's older sister."

Vivian's sapphire blue eyes moved to rest on Grace's expressionless face. "He was married to your sister?"

Grace managed a nod. She was also contemplating making a run for it. Of all the ways she could think of to spend a Saturday afternoon, rehashing the past with Duval's new fiancée was the last thing she wanted.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Vivian said her eyes brightening. "This explains so many things. That's why Duval—you're like a sister to him! I'm so sorry I thought—oh forget what I said. I obviously didn't know what I was talking about."

"It's all right." Grace said then she glanced down at the slim watch around her wrist. "It's getting pretty late. I'd better head back."

"Are you staying at La Mer?" Vivian asked quickly.

"Yes." Then guessing what the woman wanted, Grace awkwardly invited her. "Would you like to ride back with me?"

"That would be wonderful! Just let me go pay the cab driver and get my luggage."

Vivian looked so suddenly rosy and happy that a less gracious part of Grace almost preferred the angry and sad woman earlier. She watched as Vivian strode off, her long legs tanned and graceful beneath the tiny hem of her white eyelet cotton skirt. An outfit like that should have looked ridiculous on Grace but it looked absolutely electrifying on a woman of Vivian's flamboyant beauty.

Abby tapped her on the shoulder. Grace turned to see that the younger woman had a sympathetic cast to her face.

"It'll be alright, Grace." Abby told her solemnly. "Like she said, Duval isn't in love with her."

"What are you talking about?" Grace asked. Abby shrugged and began straightening some dresses on the rack next to them.

"I have eyes you know. That whole summer, I couldn't help but see."

Grace was afraid that she knew exactly what Abby was talking about.

Abby stopped fiddling with the dresses and turned to give Grace a serious look.

"Don't worry. I won't tell anybody. The last thing I want is for you or Duval to get hurt again. But..." Abby's voice trailed away.

"But what?" Grace asked quietly.

Abby's face broke into a slightly wistful grin. "I always thought it was so romantic. Just like a soap opera. And then Elizabeth died and everything changed. This wasn't a soap opera. It was real life and real pain that people were feeling. But even though I was sad, a part of me said to myself, well, at least finally Grace might have a chance to find happiness now. And then everything seemed to make more sense to me."

Grace was stunned. All she could say was, "You're wrong about whatever you're thinking."

Abby gave her a quick hug. "It's okay. Trust me on this Grace. You loved Elizabeth very much right?"

Grace nodded. God she missed her older sister at times so much that there was no words to describe it. If she could have one wish, it would be to have Elizabeth alive and happy the way she had been during her short years of marriage to Duval.

Abby seemed to know what she was thinking. Grace thought that the young woman would make an excellent psychiatrist if she didn't practice medicine instead.

"All I mean, Grace, is that Elizabeth loved you so much too. She was always talking about how proud she was of her little sister who was going to be a great doctor someday. And when she found out she was sick, she never seemed to be that sad. I think it was because deep down inside, she knew that you loved Duval and that—."

"Please don't say it like that, Abby." Grace interrupted in a shaky voice. "I'm not in love with—that's just—like I said. You're wrong about that."

Abby nodded, her own eyes bright with sympathy. But she whispered softly. "It's okay Grace. Nobody would blame you for loving him."

Feeling as if she had been rolled over by a semi, Grace breathed deeply. But it wasn't the time to be maudlin. Vivian Kent had swept back into the shop dragging two huge suitcases and one carry-on. Her skin was becomingly flushed as she regarded the two other women with a puzzled frown.

"What's wrong?"

Grace managed a grin and shook her head. She gave Abby another hug and told her to come visit her before she left. But no swimming at high tide. Abby grinned back and promised to come as soon as she could.

Helping Vivian with the largest of her suitcases, Grace led the way back to the limo where Beth was waiting. But before she left, she made a quick stop and bought a box of tea for the chauffeur.