A Bride to Redeem Him

by Charlotte Hawkes

  ‘It isn’t your choice to make, it’s mine. And it appears I’ve made it. But tell me, Louis, what are you so afraid of?’

  He snorted. An ugly sound.

  ‘I’m not afraid of anything. Or anyone.’

  ‘I think you are,’ she pressed. ‘I think you’re afraid of the one person who truly counts. Yourself. You’re afraid to be that good surgeon version of yourself because, for some reason, you can’t allow yourself to be happy. And so you keep throwing the two-dimensional playboy side out for the world. Why do you do that? Are you afraid you won’t measure up to the man you ought to be? And so you won’t even try in case you fail?’

  It was too close to the mark. He couldn’t bear it.

  Every time she talked to him like this she made him feel more and more like he could be the man he should have been from the start. She made him want to be. If only for her. But now it was too late. He was too like his father. He destroyed things, he didn’t create them.

  ‘You think you know me, just because we slept together?’ He shook his head. ‘How many other women do you think have been exactly where you are now, Alex?’

  It was cruel. He had to slide his eyes away so that he didn’t see the pain clouding hers. But it was the only way. He couldn’t give Alex what she wanted. He wouldn’t.

  She hoped he would take on the Lefebvre Group, guide it, nurture it. In her mind, he could build the Lefebvre Group into the force that the Delaroche Foundation could have been if not for his father’s ego. How was it she couldn’t see that his own ego was just as out of control? That, despite every choice he’d ever made—because of every choice he’d ever made—he had turned himself into the one thing he most loathed. He was his father’s own son.

  She couldn’t be allowed to love him. He would end up destroying her. Just as his father had destroyed his mother. It was inevitable.

  ‘This was sex, Alex. Just sex.’ The lie practically lodged itself in his throat. ‘This is exactly who I am and I am happy with that. But since you insist on reading more into it than that, it cannot happen again. We will marry, as agreed, I’ll gain control of the Lefebvre Group and I’ll appoint a new board to pass it on to, to ensure that Rainbow House, and any other assets, are protected.’

  ‘So you want to protect your mother’s legacy from your father, yet not get your hands dirty?’ It was the sad, almost sympathetic edge to her tone that really twisted in his chest the most.

  He gritted his teeth. Alex must never know how much it cost him to answer her.

  He’d been foolish to let himself get caught up in their charade, allowing himself to think, even for a moment, that there was anything real to it. He’d been stupid to allow her to convince him to look into the stable block conversion that his mother had once planned. And he’d been reckless to even consider taking over the role of Chairman of the Lefebvre Group and appointing a board of his own.

  He needed to get back to the original plan. Stop his father from destroying his mother’s legacy and then walk away. Run, if he had to.

  ‘That’s exactly what I intend to do,’ he growled, unsure whether he was more furious at her or himself. ‘Now get dressed, we’re leaving. You have a dress fitting and I have a life to get back to once this is over.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE NEXT FEW days bled into each other, a tense blur for Alex, until one week stretched into two, then three.

  Gone was the Louis who had caused her to abandon herself to the wanton desire that had seemed to fuel them both equally. The Louis who had taught her to revel in his obsession with her body as he’d licked and kissed and tasted his way over every last square centimetre of her trembling flesh.

  They had reached an uneasy truce following their argument. They’d had to. Not only for the paparazzi but also for the estate hands and chateau staff, none of whom could be allowed to suspect there was any animosity between the soon-to-be-wed couple.

  Alex was almost grateful for the whirlwind of planning and decisions, from her wedding dress to the music, the flowers to the food. At least they kept her mind occupied and the pain at bay.

  But it wasn’t always so easy. When Louis showed her around the estate, ostensibly so that he could teach his future bride about its history, and how the estate had employed people from the local area for centuries, she could almost fool herself into thinking it was real all over again. Especially when he so proudly recounted to her how his great-grandfather had been unmasked and hunted down as one of the most effective, dogmatic leaders of the Resistance during the Second World War, and local farmers had been prepared—only too willing—to conceal and protect such a man as Albert Delaroche on their farms, even after several of them had been tortured or taken prisoner.

  But when she called her father, after she had finally been granted permission to advise him of the highly guarded date of the wedding, she wasn’t prepared for what he had to say.

  By the time Louis returned, Alex still hadn’t moved from the chair by the window, her mobile phone still clasped in her hand. He knew something was wrong the moment he walked in, the immediate concern etched onto his face only making her feel worse.

  He strode across the room and for a moment she thought he was going to haul her out of the chair and into his arms.

  Ridiculous notion.

  Instead, Louis stopped dead in front of her.

  ‘Did something happen? Did your father upset you?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘He didn’t like the respite holiday idea? Rainbow Court?’

  She’d turned the words over and over in her mind all afternoon, but they still didn’t come any easier. There was no soft way to put it. She just had to tell him.

  ‘I told my father we had set a date, I explained. He thanked me for letting him know.’

  But he hadn’t congratulated her, or celebrated with her, or anything really. He’d just listened politely, thanked her and then, to her surprise, he’d asked her if she was doing it to save Rainbow House. She couldn’t tell Louis that she’d harboured some secret fantasy he might tell her that wasn’t something she needed to do. At least, not for him. Maybe tell her he did love her, and that she should only marry Louis if she wanted to.

  No, she couldn’t tell Louis. She could barely admit that to herself. Alex shook her head as if to dislodge the fanciful idea.

  ‘He did tell me something about your mother.’

  ‘My mother?’

  The sense of foreboding swelled up inside her even though she tried to quell it. He waited in silence for her to continue.

  ‘He asked why you had never taken up your role as chairman of the Lefebvre Group before now. I told you Jack was at Rainbow House around the time your mother used to visit regularly?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ He shrugged irritably, but she got the sense there was more going on beneath the surface. If only he would let her in.

  But he never would.

  ‘Apparently your mother’s desire for you to take over was widely known.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  ‘Well, my father knew her well, Jack was around seven and your mother was very involved with the residents.’

  ‘I am aware of that.’

  ‘Well, we were talking...’ If one could call their conversation talking in that sense. She flicked a tongue out over parched lips. ‘Conversation got around to your mother’s death and...basically he said she didn’t take her own life. That it was an accident.’

  He raked his hand through his hair. In that moment it seemed floppier and more playboyish than ever. It also made him seem more vulnerable than ever and her heart twisted and knotted.

  ‘Yes. Your father would think that. They told everyone it was an accident.’

  ‘No.’ She was explaining this badly. ‘I mean, I know that. What I mean is, it really was an accident.’

  He stared at her, fir
st in disbelief, then in exasperation.

  ‘They covered it up, I told you that. It was the only decent thing my father ever did for her.’

  ‘You’re wrong. He didn’t cover anything up. That is...he did, but not your mother’s suicide. It really was an accident. My father was there. He saw exactly what happened.’

  Cold fingers inched over her body. She hated the way he looked at her, as though she was lying, deliberately trying to hurt him. How could he think that?

  ‘I saw the photographs, Alex,’ he bit out coldly. ‘The evidence. Or the lack of it. I know there was a cover-up.’

  ‘There was. But not how you think.’

  She touched his arm but he pulled away, unable to bear the contact. Something inside her shrivelled up even smaller. But she couldn’t stop now, she had to tell him what she knew.

  ‘Louis, your mother died trying to save someone’s life.’

  He froze, waiting for her to go on.

  ‘There was a single mother, twenty-three, and her six-year-old daughter. The daughter was severely disabled and the young mother had borderline learning difficulties herself. That particular day it all got too much for her. She went to the child’s room and smothered her in her sleep. She was in the process of taking her own life when your mother went past the room and spotted them. Celine hit the alarm and then ran in to try to save the woman by hoisting her up, but her body was convulsing and your mother got knocked over.’

  ‘My mother fell?’ It didn’t even sound like his voice.

  ‘She hit her head on the metal corner of the bed as she went down. By the time the ambulance crew got to her, she was already gone.’

  ‘It was an accident?’

  ‘Yes. My father was there. He’d heard her in the refectory barely a few hours before, talking about you as usual, he said.’ She reached a tentative hand out to hold his arm again.

  This time he didn’t move away or throw her off, he simply stared at it. Seeing but not seeing. She doubted he could feel anything at all. She could only imagine he felt numb.

  ‘She always talked about you, apparently,’ Alex continued softly. ‘She told people you were her whole world. Her petit prince.’

  He actually staggered back. Him, Louis Delaroche. And in that moment Alex knew if she could have taken his pain on in his stead, she would have.

  She loved him. And that would cause her far more pain than her father had ever caused her.

  * * *

  Anguish ripped through Louis, like something yanking him in a million different directions at once. He’d forgotten that, her affectionate nickname for him. She’d called him her prince and he’d told her she was more beautiful than even the Princess of England who she had always so loved.

  How could he have forgotten?

  ‘They covered it up,’ he managed at last, his voice sounding so, so far away. Lost in his own head.

  ‘Yes, to protect the young mother and her child. The press would run stories because of Celine’s death, and therefore the circumstances would have been front-page news. The family of the mother and daughter would have been hounded for months. Maybe years. He said it was felt that Celine would have wanted to protect them.’

  Louis jerked his head up and down in what passed for a nod.

  ‘She would never have wanted those families to go through any more pain than they would already have been in. Neither would she have wanted people pointing the finger at Rainbow House. Back then there were people who already objected to having a place for people with learning difficulties on their doorstep. My mother wouldn’t want to have given them any more ammunition.’

  ‘No one could never have anticipated that your father would use the cover-up to tell you such a cruel lie. You can’t blame yourself.’

  Fury howled inside him, tearing and clawing. He wanted to rage. At the world. At his parents. At himself.

  ‘I don’t,’ he ground out.

  And he didn’t, at least not for that part of it. But how could he have believed his father—a man who made his career on lying and being vindictive as much as his talent—over what he knew in his heart to be true about his mother? How could he have ever imagined she would have chosen to take her own life? What kind of a son did that make him?

  What kind of a person did that make him?

  No loyalty. No trust. No belief.

  Suddenly he realised Alex was cupping his face in her hands as though she could anchor him while the terrible storm wailed around his head. As though she could save him.

  But she couldn’t.

  No one could.

  He had to protect her. She deserved better, so much better, than him. She deserved someone loyal and honourable, someone who would stand by her side no matter what. Clearly, he wasn’t that person. He never had been. The press were right.

  ‘Tonight you will pack to leave. The wedding is off.’

  ‘No,’ she cried. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  He’d only felt helpless once before in his life. The night his father had told him that his mother had given up on existence, on herself, on him, and taken her own life. Louis was determined that tonight, the night he had discovered it was all a lie, wasn’t going to be a second time.

  ‘It makes perfect sense.’ He finally found the strength to move. To take Alex’s hands and tear them away from his face. To step away from her. To cross the room. Seeing her desperation only made him feel furious, powerless and mournful all at once. He couldn’t understand the emotions raging through him. He only knew that, whatever they were, they had to be as far removed from love as it was possible to get.

  Because that was the one thing he clearly wasn’t capable of.

  ‘The only person at fault here is your father—you can’t let him win. You must learn to forgive yourself.’

  A tear tracked its way down her cheek and his stomach churned at the realisation that he’d hurt her. Immeasurably. He’d been a fool to imagine it could have turned out any other way.

  But equally quickly, anger washed over the guilt. For her part, had Alex been honest with him? She certainly hadn’t been honest with herself.

  ‘Alex, we’ve been through this before. You talk about me forgiving myself, but you still haven’t forgiven yourself.’

  Her eyes flashed, but he didn’t miss the shadow of panic.

  ‘Of course I have. That’s why I volunteer at Rainbow House. Because I’ve accepted my past and I’ve made peace with it. I don’t push it away like you do.’

  ‘But you still haven’t accepted it, Alex. You don’t volunteer at Rainbow House because you’re at peace with yourself, you volunteer because you’re still trying to earn your father’s love. You might have stopped blaming yourself for your mother’s death, and for not being the saviour sibling you had been intended to be, but deep down you don’t think your father has stopped blaming you.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Alex gasped, her hand pressed to her chest as if he was ripping out her very heart.

  He knew he might as well have been.

  But he couldn’t stop now. He had to tell her, lay it all out there. She deserved better and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the one to tie her down, trap her and disappoint her.

  ‘You’ve spent decades trying to prove to him that you were worthy of being born. It’s what’s driven you to be a doctor, to volunteer at Rainbow House, to make a difference. It’s why you’re so determined to save me. You’re trying to turn me into the son my mother wanted me to be because you can’t turn your father into the dad you’ve needed him to be.’

  ‘Stop!’

  The strangled cry constricted his chest, tightening until he could barely breathe. It was nothing compared to Alex’s ashen appearance. But she had to hear this, she had to understand what she was doing. And why.

  ‘He loved your mother, he loved your brother and now he l
oves Rainbow House,’ Louis said quietly. ‘All the volunteering you do forces him to keep the door open to you, and appreciate your hard work. But I can’t imagine how much it must eat away at you that he’s never loved just you.’

  ‘How could you be so cruel?’ She shook her head, the words so quiet he had to strain to hear them.

  ‘It may be cruel, but it’s also the truth. You and I aren’t so different. We have each buried our demons yet convinced ourselves we’ve dealt with them. If you stop thinking I’m deliberately trying to hurt you just long enough to think clearly, you would see that all the pushing you’ve been doing to get me to take on the Lefebvre Group is motivated by your need to go back to your father and tell him that Rainbow House is safe.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head but the way she bit her lip betrayed her uncertainty.

  ‘In your eyes, marrying me would be the ultimate sacrifice. The one thing that would prove to your father that you would do anything for him. But it won’t work, Alex. He’ll have Rainbow House but it won’t be the magic cure you think it will be. It won’t change the way he either does or doesn’t love you.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ she managed hoarsely. It was all the admission that he needed.

  Until that moment he hadn’t realised how badly a tiny part of him wanted her to tell him that none of that mattered any more, that she loved him. The fact that she hadn’t cut him deeper than he could have imagined possible.

  ‘And then you’ll just be left married to me. As miserable as my mother was with my father.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  He couldn’t allow her tears to get to him. This was the best thing. For him and for Alex.

  ‘It is true. And I won’t do that to someone. Alex, I won’t do that to you.’

  He would find another way to save Rainbow House, whether it meant gaining control of the Lefebvre Group or not. But Alex would be free and he wouldn’t be in her life to darken it.

  She deserved better than that. Better than him.

  He stalked across the room, the heavy walnut door bearing the full brunt of his frustration. And there, her face white and pinched, stood Brigitte, her hand raised to knock.