Hello! Well, this is my first fanfic in this universe. I just finished 3x04 yesterday night and I can't believe what they did! I will miss Henri and Agnes so much, specially knowing they don't show them again. I don't even know if I want to continue watching the show anymore!

So, this is my story in how I think Agnes and Victor should have call off their engagment... the real reasons she goes back to Henri. Hope you like it!

Another thing, my first language is not english, but spanish. So, maybe I get confuse with the verb teneses or some words are repeated. Plase forgive me about that!

Cheers!

"And we'll paint this wall light-yellow, bringing light into the room. We can add tables and chairs on this side of the room. It will make it look wider" Agnes Towler showed her fiancée, Victor Colleano, walking round his restaurant, putting to side all her ideas. She talked fast, excitement showing in her eyes, and not for the first time Victor thought if this was the right thing to do. He knew that after they got married, Agnes would have to resign to her position as Head of Display in the opulent Selfridge's Store, and he truly didn't know if he was ready to see that incredible light whenever she was being creative leave her eyes.

The clock above them marked eleven o'clock and the there wasn't anybody left in this side of his house and business. George, his best friend and soon to be brother-in-law, had left for his house an hour ago, claiming he needed to rest. He knew the scares poor good George carried with him now where unbearable, and not for the first time he felt guilty, that such a good and tender young lad as George was out there, fighting an impossible war, while he was here, making spaghetti and planning his wedding with the woman he loved.

"So, what do you think?" The woman in questions asks him, half a smile on her face.

He gave her another smile as an answer.

"I think" He says, "That it's late and we have to wake up very early tomorrow. I know we already handed in our notices, but we still have to work until Mr. Selfridge finds a replacement for us both"

Agnes chuckles slightly and nods.

"Yes, you are right" Victor looks at her, and thoughts start flooding his mind again.

"Are you happy, Agnes?" He asks her, trying to sound as casual as he could but also serious. Agnes looks at him, confused at his sudden question. She walks towards him.

"Of course I am!" She exclaims, "I'm marrying the man I love in a few days!" He tries to smile at him as she says the words, but Victor can't help but notice how she flinched a little as she pronounced the world "love" and how the light didn't reach her eyes.

He remembers the tensed conversation he had held with Henri Leclair moments ago before coming home.

"Do you love her?" Victor had asked his rival.

Henri looked at the floor beneath them for a moment, not sure what to say. Should he tell this young man, who could make his Agnes happy (or at least content) the truth? And hurt him forever, making him wonder all the time if he would come back, trying to look for his soon-to-be wife?

Or should he lie, and make them both a favor?

But Henri knew he couldn't lie. He had been lying about his feelings towards Agnes for almost six years now; telling himself he didn't love her, he didn't need her.

At New York, while he was with Valerie, he would think of her all the time. Sometimes, he would lay with his lover and he would think of dirt brown hair instead of fair. He would imagine her scent and the way her hand touched him instead of the touch of the French woman laying by his side.

He knew it was wrong, extremely wrong to imagine another woman… but he couldn't help himself.

He tried to convince himself that it was because he appreciated her, she had been his apprentice, he had been her mentor and he still cared for her. His English rose…

But he knew there had been so much more. He had wasted all they could have been, and when he realized the tremendous mistake he had done in his life, letting her ago… it was too late.

He didn't have the courage to come back to London, to seek for her and explain her. And then, Valerie had also left him for another man, and he had tried to cope with the knowing that he had ruined his love life by going to New York, chasing after a woman he didn't love anymore.

Some months later, the Scand happened, and he ran away. And after that, after he had lost all he ever was and had, he knew there was no chance for him to go after Agnes anymore. He couldn't bring her into the mess his life had become, and he had one solution only: to find Valerie and make her confess the truth, so he coulld be a free man again.

Months later, Rose Selfridge found him, and his friend Harry appeared back into his life. He had been ready to say no. He couldn't involve Harry into this anymore that he couldn't involve Agnes. But then, he had said her name, and he knew he had lost it.

Because Henri Leclair was a selfish man, and oh, how could he deny himself that? To see her once more, to talk to her…to help her, be her mentor and colleague once again…

So he had accepted the position as collaborator for the Empire Week. And then, when he thought he could continue his way, Harry offered him things he had longed for so much. His job, a way out of this horrible life he had put himself into. Friendship. And he had been too weak to say no.

When he thought things were getting better, little by little… it had all gone down the sink. He had ended up in prison, in the American Embassy… and of course it had been Agnes, his beautiful and kind Agnes who helped him out of the way.

He didn't want to put her in any danger, so he tried to keep the information all to himself. He couldn't tell her he was being looked for a crime he never committed in America, so he told her he had been chasing after Valerie out of love. He saw how much it pained her to see him telling those words, and he wanted to shout it was not like that. He didn't love Valerie, not anymore… he loved her, his ingénue.

And after those horrible weeks, there was no denial at all. He couldn't hide it anymore. But he had been too late. Agnes was already too hurt, he had broken her heart into tiny, million pieces time after time. When he left her, when he came back and acted as a stranger. When he yelled at her, as if she wasn't worth anything for him. When he went to prison, and when he told her (lied to her) his motive for coming back to Europe.

And Henri thought what a scum, what a terrible selfish bastard he had been. He did not deserve her, and he was glad someone else could claim her heart.

He had hurt her in a way he would never understand, and Victor had been there all that time. He had picked up all those pieces, placed them together and made her go on.

And now, that said man was standing at his side, both of them looking at the masterpiece the woman they loved had done, asking him if is his feeling towards his fiancée were true.

And Henri knew he couldn't lie to him. Not because of him, but because of Agnes. Because lying, denying his feelings one more time would only be denying her.

So he answers.

"Yes" He says, firmly and looking at the boy, "I love her"

Victor inhales and sighs. He knew what the answer would be, but that doesn't make it less painful.

"Okay, so grab on your coat, I'll walk you home" Victor tells Agnes, clapping his hands. Agnes looks back the clock.

"It's pretty late Victor, I could stay here for the night" Victor looks at her, unsure about how to react to that. But he thinks she's right: it's very late at night and they both have to wake up very early tomorrow morning. Besides, his house is closer to the Store than hers, and he knew George would never think he took advantage of his sister, he knew him too well. So yes, it would be better if she stayed and slept in his room and he could sleep on the couch in his living room.

He nods, leaving the overcoat he was about to put on over a chair.

"Yeah, I think you're right" He answers, "Come one, you can sleep in my bedroom and I can sleep on the sofa" He placed his hand on her back, leading her upstairs, but Agnes chuckle.

"You know, Victor, it's okay. We can sleep together, there's no need to sleep separated. We are going to get married!" She points out and Victor looks at her, curious.

"Well, yes, but… I wouldn't want people to gossip, saying that you aren't… well…." He approaches, unsure about how to proceed. He never brought it up, knowing his Agnes was pure as snow and this conversation needn't take place, "Well… that you aren't… maiden "He finished, a bit sweety now.

Agnes immediately freezes in her place. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

You are an idiot, Agnes! A voice inside her head said, "What, did you expect him not to want his wife to be a virgin? He's Italian, for god's sake! They are even more traditional and religious than Brits!

She didn't know what to say or do. She could just smile at him; thank him for his gentle manners and go to sleep. She didn't need to tell him she wasn't virgin, she could fake an excuse on their wedding night.

And anyway, after their wedding he would be too happy to notice or care about it… she hoped.

But he was saying it now, in front of her, and she didn't know how to react.

Could she just avoid it? Or should she tell him the truth?

What kind of marriage would she have if she was lying to him even before they got married?

Agnes knew the answer even before she could say it, but it wasn't going to make it less painful.

"Um… Victor" She says, coming a bit closer and looking into his eyes. Those eyes full of love for her. "Well… there's a somehow delicate matter I haven't brought up to you…"

"What's it?" He asks her, coming a bit even closer.

"It's just that… um…" Agnes starts, unsure as how to continue, "You see… I think you should know what are you getting into… who you are marrying" She finishes; Victor nodded, telling her to continue. There was no easy way to say this, so she just drops it off.

"I'm not a virgin" She just tells him, as a fact.

Victor's face changes it in the moment. His usually loving eyes went to shock and surprise first, and then to something between anger and betrayed.

"What-" He started, gaping like a fish, "How-"Agnes can see the hurt in his eyes and it is killing her. He let go of her side, walking around the room, placing his hands over a desk. He then turned to her, a tought crossing his head, " we-" Agnes knew what he was going to ask, and she stopped him even before he could formulate that question.

"No, no!" She rushed to assure, "We were not together…. It was a long time ago. I was young and naïve and wanted to know what it felt like…so…" She finished, not really knowing what to say.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Maybe it was just seconds, but for Agnes it felt like the longest time in her life.

And after that, Victor just laughs.

Agnes couldn't believe her eyes, he was just laughing, hard and loud.

"What. So do you...? "She didn't finish the sentence, but she knew he understood what she meant to ask. If he was okay with this.

Victor stops laughing and just waves his hand.

"Yes, I'm so sorry" He rushed back to her side, taking her into his arms, hugging her, "I'm sorry I reacted like that. It's just that… well, Italians are sort of traditional, even more than british, and it's just the way I was brought up. But truly… now that I think about it, I have no problem. You were young, it was a long time ago- before we were together- and well… I can't say that I'm not happy about the fact that we are both a bit experienced. It will make the wedding night better" He finishes and Agnes smiles wide to the kind and understandable man she had in front of him.

"Oh, Victor!" She says, throwing her arms around him, hugging him again, "Thanks so much for understanding!" He laughs again, the tension between them already passed.

"Well, know that I think about it… it's a bit unfair, isn't it?" He says, "Men aren't expected to arrive virgins at their wedding night, but you lasses are!" Agnes smiles at his words and nodded.

"Yes, and truly… it's not like I'm that experienced. It was just one man, and six years ago" She finishes and he smiles.

Until it hits him.

One man. Six years ago.

Oh, no… anyone but him.

Agnes sees as he turns serious again, and she lets go of his arms.

"Victor?" She asks, unsure and a bit frightened. Victor walks a bit farther from her, his mind working, thinking. And Agnes realized he has put two and two together and that he's realize what she's talking about. Oh no…. what a foolish, stupid girl she is…

"Oh… Victor…" She tries to reach him, but he furthers away, sitting on one of the chairs.

"Who is him?" He asks, calm. Then, he lifts his eyes and looks straight into Agnes'" Please, Agnes, answer me this… who is him?" Agnes shakes her head, not wanting to do this. How will he react? And what will he do to him?

She shakes her head even faster.

"No" She answers, "No, Victor, please… let's forget about this" But he just lowers his head, putting it between his hands, and then he stands up.

"Who. Is. HE?" He yells the last part, and Agnes flinches. She knew she had to tell him, but she also knew she would destroy him by doing so.

So she did the only things she could do: she sighed, closed her eyes and opened them, again, looking right into his.

"Henri"

His eyes shut down, Victor's face falling down. He sat on the chair again, counting till ten. She had been with him. That man, that irritable Frenchman had been the first in his loved one's life… and he would always be part of their lives.

"I will kill him" He says, hate all over his face. This man had taken everything away from him. Whenever he thought he could have something with Agnes, he always came back and ruined anything. And her, Agnes, she always went back to him.

Agnes laughed nervously.

"Don't, please" She just answers, "It was not his fault… I wanted that, I asked him for that"

Victor cried out loud, tired of all of this.

"Why do you keep defending him?" He yells, "You said it yourself, you were young and naïve. And he was older, more experienced and your mentor. He took advantage of you-" She didn't let him finish. She couldn't listen to anyone speaking about Henri like that.

"He didn't" She answers. "I wanted that, I asked him for it. He never took advantage"

Victor is a mess of anger and hurt by now.

"WHY DO YOU KEEP DEFENDING HIM?" He yells again, and Agnes loses it. She loses all control over her actions, her words, over everything.

"BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!" She cries out loud, and she immediately regrets her words. Her hands go right to her mouth, covering it, and crying even more.

She had said it. The thing she had been denying to herself, convincing herself it had just been the sudden knowledge that he could have died at prison or the Embassy… the knowledge that he will soon go to fight a war which had already took so much from her…

But she knew it. She loved him; she loved Henri Leclair, her fairytale Frenchman prince more than she would ever love anybody else.

Victor was crying now, not caring if he looked weak, unmanly or pathetic. He had lost her. He knew that.

"You love him" He repeated her words as facts. "You love him"

"But I also love you" She says. It's true: she loves Victor, she probably ever would. He had been there for her, when no one else had been. But she isn't in love with him…

Victor smirked and chuckled.

"Yes" he looks right at her, "But do you love me more than you love him?" He questioned, "Who do you love the most, Agnes?"

She wants to say "You, Victor". She wanted, really wanted, to take the easy, safe path. Victor was good and kind, he would make a great husband and father. He had an excellent relationship with her only family member, her brother George. And she got on well with his family, they all considered her another one: another sister, another cousin, another daughter.

So, why couldn't she take the easy way? Why did she have to love more a man who was from a different background, who didn't even speak her language? A man that was off to fight a war and would probably never come back, again? A man who had broken her heart into a million pieces?

Why?

But she couldn't lie… not to herself, not to Victor, and not to Henri. Not anymore.

She never answered his question, but Victor understood.

"I see" He says. The hurt and pain in her voice almost make her change her mind. She was just about to tell him she loved him, and they should move forward. But she couldn't.

"You should go and find him" He says, and she looked at him in wonder and disbelief.

"Wha- What are you saying, Victor?" She asks, concerned.

"I can't marry you, Agnes. And not just because you love him… but because I will never be able to give you what you want. You will end resenting me. You would never come to be happy with this life" He tells her, pointing at the restaurant. She shakes her head.

"You- you don't know that" She answers. But she does… she knows the answer.

"Yes, I do. Children would make it easier, in time. But you would end up hating me for making you give up your dream, your work… and I realize it know, and I don't understand how I didn't realize it sooner… you love your work so much because it's related to him. You have a natural talent to it, of course, but he thought you all of it, and that's why you love it so much"She couldn't help but notice he was true…. In every word he said…

She didn't know how to continue, what to tell him. But there was no need. Victor smiled at her, a sad smile.

"You must go to him" He tells her, "He loves you. And he can make you happy in ways I'll never be able to"

She shakes her head, not sure.

"How do you know?" She asks him, "He left me, for another woman… how do you know he still loves me?" He laughs.

"Aye, and he was a moron for leaving you there" He answered, "But he loves you, believe me… go, Agnes, go. And be happy" He walks closer to her side, and looked at her with loving and tender eyes, "Only God knows how much I've loved you" He finishes, and gaves her a tender kiss on her forehead.

Agnes started sobbing again, silent tears falling down her eyes. She didn't know who she crying for.

She knew it was late, extremely late. Henri would leave for France tomorrow afternoon, and she was putting herself in danger walking down the empty streets of London this late at night.

But she didn't care.

She had to find him, only if to see him one last time. She didn't know if what Victor had told her was right. She didn't know if she had it in her to go back with this man, who had thought her so much and took so much. But she had to find him.

And finally, she did.

He was there, on the park, standing in front of the cascade. The place they would come for a walk when they were together. Not saying anything, just holding hands or stealing quick kisses.

She reached his side, and didn't know what to say. But she didn't need to, because he turned around, feeling her presence. He would always feel her.

"Agnes" He said, forgetting all the formalities. He didn't care about them, not right now.

She looked at him, but didn't emit a word.

"Henri" She spoke at last, "I came because um… well… I'm not marrying Victor"

Henri thought he had been hearing wrong. His heart started beating fast against his chest, and he didn't know what to say.

"Why?" Was all he asked. He should tell her he was sorry to hear the news, but the truth was he wasn't sorry. He was bloody happy, he could start jumping on one leg, dirt selfish man he was.

She waved her head, looking at the sky above her. She would never be able to say this looking at him

"Because I told him the truth. That I'm in love with someone else" She confessed, finally looking at him. Henri's eyes went wide, not believing what he was hearing. Was she really telling him she loved him? "And he… um, well… he told me to come and find you-"She was about to continue, but Henri stopped her, stepping closer, taking her gloved hands into his.

"I love you, Agnes Towler" His voice was filled with love and emotion, "I love you, and I've been waiting such a long time to say it to you"

At that moment, Agnes didn't know if she was going to die right there or what. But she knew this was her chance to say it back to him.

"I love you" She told him. That was when she realized they were saying it quickly, as if they were in a rush. And oh god, they were. He was leaving to France; to fight off some battle… he may never return to her…

No, she could allow those thoughts into her mind.

"I love you, Henri Leclair" She repeated. They both laughed at one another, and then Henri pulled her into him, sealing their words with a kiss.

The first kiss they share in a long, long time. Oh god, how had she lived all these years without kissing him? How could she?

Their kiss wasn't like their first one. This was urgent, passionate and filled with years of wanting and regret. They were kissing with emotion, trying to forget all they had endured.

When they finally broke apart, He kept their faces connected.

"I love you" He said, again, but then a certain thought cross his mind.

How cruel was destiny, to make they come round again, only to make him depart?

He couldn't back down now. He couldn't stay here, safe and sound in England, when his countrymen were dying in a battlefield.

"I love you, but I must go" He said, calm and trying to smooth the shot. Her smiled faded, suddenly realizing –again- that he had to leave her – again –.

But she smiled, because it was okay. She knew this was going to happen. He wouldn't back down, not her brave and fierce Frenchman… no, he would go and fight. She lowered her hands, joining them with his.

"I know" She stated, understanding, "And I'll be here, waiting for you. But promise me. Promise me, Henri Leclair, that you'll come back to me" She begged him. He laughed again her.

"Yes, Ma Chérie" Oh god, how she loved when he spoke in French to her, "I will come back, and then, I will never leave you again" She smile wide at him. They kissed again, sealing their promise.

There will be a part 2 in this story, following what happens between Henri and Agnes that night.

Cheers!

V.