Return to Me

Part Two of Henri Leclair's Legacy

Chapter 1 – A Changed Man

London, spring of 1914

Agnes Towler stood for a moment at the entrance of Selfridge's. Glancing around, she took in the counters and the employees, noticing how many things still seemed familiar. Before anyone would recognize her, she headed for the elevators.

"Mr. Selfridge's office, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

The young elevator operator was new. Agnes did not recognize her. She smiled at her and the girl returned it.

~ O ~

Henri looked up at the sound of familiar laughter and felt a chill down his back. A moment later he spotted her. Had it not been for her laughter, he might not have recognized her. Agnes Towler had done a lot of growing up since last he saw her.

"Mr. Leclair! Look who's returned to us from the magnificence of Paris!"

Henri wanted to roll his eyes at Harry Selfridge's over enthusiastic outburst. Instead he focused on Agnes, meeting her eyes as he smiled at her.

"It's wonderful to see you again, Miss Towler. It is still Miss Towler, correct?"

"Yes it is." She held out her hand to him and he shook it briefly. "It's lovely to see you too, Mr. Leclair. It appears that I'll be working with you once again."

"Oh?"

"Miss Towler is the new Head of Display that I told you about. I'm sorry, old friend; I just didn't want to spoil the surprise."

"Of course." Henri gritted his teeth, trying hard not to shout obscenities at the chief for withholding such important information. Of course, Harry Selfridge knew nothing about the past history between the two of them.

"Well, Miss Towler, I will leave you in Mr. Leclair's capable hands."

"Thank you, Mr. Selfridge. It's good to be home."

"Well said, Miss Towler." With a last flashing grin at them, he turned and left.

"So, Mr. Leclair…"

"Agnes, please…"

She turned and her steely gaze cut him off mid sentence.

"Mr. Leclair, I would appreciate if we could remain professional while at work."

He nodded in understanding. "Of course, Miss Towler." He gestured towards the design studio. "This way please."

~ O ~

Agnes put her pen down and leaned back. She nodded slowly as she contemplated the drawing she had just completed.

"I like it."

She looked up and smiled at him. "Thank you. I took a few drawing classes in Paris and now I find it just as easy to sketch design ideas as working with actual materials here in the studio. Much faster too."

"I agree." A memory of her sitting close to him at this very desk years prior while he drew a lily of the valley flashed in front of his eyes. He smiled, fondly remembering how innocent she had been back then – his ingénue.

"Well, it's getting late. I should get going."

"Miss Towler… Agnes?" He gently touched her arm as she turned away. "Have dinner with me?"

"I can't, Henri."

"Why? Do you despise me so for what I did, that we aren't even friends anymore?"

She took his hand and smiled at him. "You didn't let me finish. I have a prior engagement tonight. Perhaps tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow it is." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. "Thank you."

"Good night, Henri."

~ O ~

Henri had taken her to the same little restaurant that they had been to on their first time out together. Agnes commented on it, and he smiled, delighted at how she seemed to approve of it.

"I have fond memories from being here with you."

"It was a long time ago, Henri."

"Five years is not all that long."

"Things have changed. I've changed."

He nodded and watched her sip her wine. "You look stunning, Agnes. I like the hair."

"Thank you. It's much easier to manage and I quite like it myself." She tilted her head and watched him for a moment. Fiddling with her wine glass, she asked the question that burned on her tongue. "Did Valerie come back with you?"

"No."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows inched up. "She's still in New York then?"

"No." He sighed and looked out the window. "She's dead."

"Oh God. Henri, I'm so very sorry."

He looked down at their hands on the table at the feeling of her hand clutching his. Nodding slowly, he accepted her apology. To his surprise she continued.

"How? You don't have to tell me…"

"She was on the Titanic."

Agnes closed her eyes and her fingers tightened around his. "How terrible. I'm so sorry I brought it up. You must miss her something awful."

"I do. Valerie and I had known each other for a very long time. We were good friends, long before we became anything else."

"I know."

"She was not with me anymore…"

Agnes' eyes widened a little at his confession. "I see. Look, Henri, you don't owe me any explanations. You were very straightforward and open with me from the start about her. Granted, you broke my heart when you left, but… well, I suppose everything worked out somehow."

"Agnes, I had to." He turned his hand and held her smaller one, gently stroking her fingers. "You were so young. I could tell that you were getting attached. What would've been next for us? Marriage? Perhaps. Then your career would've been over before it even started. I couldn't do that to you."

"So you made the decision for me." Agnes pulled her hand free. "I know I was young, but you could've treated me as a grownup, Henri… as an equal. Instead you treated me like a little girl who didn't know what was best for her."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I. How do you even know that I would've accepted you?"

He chuckled and nodded. "I suppose I don't." She made a face at him and silently sipped her wine. "Is there someone special?"

"There is." She looked down, playing with her wine glass. "I didn't return alone, Henri."

"I see." He leaned back in his chair, watching her. "What's his name?"

Her head snapped up and she glared at him. "What does it matter? You made it perfectly clear that you wanted to move on."

"I… I guess…" He shook his head in frustration. "Perhaps even I can make a mistake?"

"What's that supposed to mean? That you want me now?"

"I wrote to you."

"I never received any letters. Not even one, Henri."

"I know. I wrote to the store. It was the only address I had for you. My letter was returned with a note that you no longer worked there and that they had no forwarding address for you in Paris."

"That's ridiculous! My brother still works there. He would've sent it to me."

"I suppose whoever dealt with my letter didn't think of that."

"Why are you telling me this now, Henri?"

"Don't you want to know what I wrote?"

"Not particularly. It's in the past, and I've learned to put the past behind me."

"You regret… us?"

She let out a heavy sigh and looked at him. "No I don't. What we had was beautiful… a fairytale… but life is not like that, Henri."

"If you could, would you want the fairytale back?"

"It's not possible, so why dwell on it?"

"Anything is possible, Agnes!" He laughed and took her hand again.

"I told you, I didn't return alone."

"So you did. Have you been lovers for a long time?"

"No, and that's all I'm prepared to tell you. It's none of your business anyway."

"Agnes!" He was shocked by her frankness.

"I'm sorry, Henri, but I'm not comfortable discussing my private life with you. Not yet. I need to know that we can get along as colleagues first. If we can be friends too, that would be lovely, beyond that, I don't really…"

"Agnes, please…" He caressed her hand. "I've always wanted the best for you, please believe that. I want us to be friends. Please?"

"All right. Friends."

He smiled at her and she returned it.

~ O ~

Weeks went by and the uneasiness they had initially felt around each other, slowly disappeared. Soon they were laughing and joking with each other as they once had in the past. In reality, they did not see all that much of each other at work. His new office was upstairs, down the hall from Mr. Selfridge. She reported to the both of them and often went directly to Mr. Selfridge to discuss ideas. Usually ideas were hatched during the weekly management meetings. Henri allowed her free reigns with the windows, as long as sales stayed the same and Mr. Selfridge was happy. His visits to the design studio were purely selfish, to get a chance to spend time with her, watching her work.

"You've become even better than I once was," he told her one morning as he flipped through a stack of her drawings while she was fiddling with the latest project.

"Why thank you, Mr. Leclair." She shot him a teasing grin.

"I'm not beyond admitting that you're an excellent designer, Miss Towler."

"I'm very pleased to hear that."

He sipped his coffee, leaning against her desk, watching her work. "Try the blue one."

She looked up and smiled at him. "I was thinking the same thing." Putting down the red hat she picked up the blue one instead, gently placing it on the mannequin's head.

"Bravo!"

She laughed and turned to him. "Just like old times."

"Almost like old times," he gently corrected her.

"Henri?"

His eyes instantly sought hers at the sound of his name rolling off her lips. "Yes?"

"Would you like to come over and have dinner tonight?"

"I'd love to. Are you sure it's all right? Shouldn't you check first?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "No, it's fine. Shall we say seven o' clock?"

"I'll be there."

She quickly jotted down her address and handed it to him. He folded the little slip of paper and tucked it into his waistcoat pocket. They smiled at each other before she turned back to the display as if nothing had happened.

To be continued…