"That's right," she agreed in as pleasant a voice as possible in an attempt to encourage her shy sister-in-law's efforts at conversation, even though she didn't particularly care to be the subject of the conversation.
"You can't remember anything?''
With a sudden sense of recklessness, she grinned. "Actually, I do have memories, but they really can't be rationally explained unless I could prove that I'm not Sherye DuBois."
Danielle almost choked. She set her coffee cup down, coughing, unable to take her eyes off Sherye, who continued to grin at her, encouraging her to share the humor in her comment. After a moment Danielle returned the grin, with a soft chuckle. "You're joking, right?" Her eyes filled with amusement.
Sherye was struck by the change in Danielle. She looked years younger, almost youthful. Sherye was delighted to see such an abrupt change caused by her attempt to defuse the seriousness of what had happened to her.
Danielle suddenly sobered, her expression stricken. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you."
"It's okay. I guess it was a silly thing to say, under the circumstances." V/ith a lightness she didn't feel, Sherye gave an airy wave of her hand and said, "Be my guest and laugh all you want."
Danielle shook her head, obviously embarrassed once again. "I can't imagine you thinking you're not Sherye, that's all. There are obvious changes in the way you wear your hair and your lack of makeup, but you can't hide your features, the shape of your chin, that sort of thing. If you weren't an only child, perhaps you might be able to pass yourself off as your sister. Otherwise..." Her voice trailed off into another puzzled look. "If you don't think you're Sherye, who do you think you are?"
Sherye paused for a moment, trying to decide what to say. She was pleased that she had somehow broken through Danielle's reserve. She decided to tease a little, despite the accuracy of what she said. In a pseudosolemn tone of voice she intoned,. "A teacher from Dallas, Texas." Her tone invited Danielle to enjoy the humor.
Sherye was delighted when Danielle erupted into a new round Of giggles. She covered her mouth as though to obstruct the flow, which only seemed to make the laughter worse.
Sherye knew her statement sounded absurd under the circumstances and she began to laugh, as well. When she paused to draw breath she added, "I even know what I teach—French!" which immediately sent both of them into another round of choked laughter.
Raoul walked in as they were tapering off, his expression somewhere between shock and utter bafflement. Sherye had hoped to avoid him this morning, but in her enjoyment of getting the opportunity to visit with Danielle she'd lost track of time.
He walked over to the sideboard, shaking his head. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. As I was coming down the hallway I was convinced we must have company. The two of you sound like a couple of schoolgirls, giggling over secrets."
His remark was close enough to the truth that their gazes met in acknowledgment of the nature of their discussion ... which set them off again.
Sherye was also enjoying seeing Raoul in a more relaxed atmosphere. He seemed pleased to see his sister enjoying herself, just as he seemed puzzled when he looked back at Sherye. .
Whatever her relationship with Danielle m the past, she must have behaved differently toward her today.
Well, if so, that was too bad. She was growing rather weary of trying to live up to some unspecified form of behavior. For the first time since she'd awakened in the hospital she discovered that a lack of memory could be a sort of liberation from the past. She was free to behave in any way she wanted. What difference did it make, anyway? Even though he hadn't bothered to tell her, Raoul was already planning to divorce her. He'd made it clear that he didn't see any future in their relationship, so why should she attempt to work so hard not to incur his displeasure?
"If you will excuse me," she said to Danielle with a quick glance at Raoul, "I'm going to go visit the children." Before either of them could respond she left the room, feeling as though she'd set off a bomb and wanting to escape before it exploded.
Chapter 7
Once again Sherye had to explore the chateau before she found the rooms where her children spent most of then-time. The area was easy enough to find once she returned upstairs and listened for the sound of young voices.
She tapped and waited until Louise opened the door before she entered her children's domain. She wasn't certain who was the most surprised to see her—Louise or Yvette.
Her daughter sat at a small table eating, while Jules was in a high chair, obviously being fed by,his nanny. Louise looked perfectly composed, far from the way Sherye felt. She felt like an outsider, hoping to be included in a highly selective club.
Louise was the first one to speak. "Good morning, madame. May I help you?"
So polite. Obviously she made a very good example for the children, but did she have to appear so cold? Perhaps she only behaved that way around her employers. Sherye sincerely hoped that the woman showed some warmth and friendliness to her two charges.
"I came to visit," was all Sherye could think of to say. She stood just inside the room and looked around.
A small frown appeared between Louise's brows. "I'm afraid the children are still at breakfast. Perhaps if you'd like to come back later—?"
Sherye displayed her most confident smile to the woman. "Oh, I don't mind helping with breakfast," she replied, walking past the woman and sitting across the small table from Yvette.
Yvette's eyes had grown wider during the conversation between her mother and her nanny. As soon as Sherye sat down, Yvette quickly stared down at her bowl of hot cereal.
"How are you this morning?"
Yvette glanced up through her thick lashes. "Fine."
"Did you sleep well?"
This time Yvette's gaze went to Louise before she nodded.
Meanwhile Jules had begun babbling again while beating his spoon on the tray of his high chair. Sherye grinned at him. "You're looking quite rested, little one. Would you like me to feed you?''
He bounced, giggled and waved the spoon. Sherye held out her hand and he gave the utensil to her. Before long she was making a game out of his food and Yvette was giggling at her silliness.
Louise had gone into the other room, leaving Sherye alone with the children, for which she was grateful. By the time Yvette and Jules had finished their meal they seemed to be more relaxed in Sherye's presence.
"Now what do you usually do?"
"We get dressed and when the weather's nice we go outside," Yvette responded.
"That sounds fun. Where are your clothes?"
Yvette hopped off her chair and headed toward the door where Louise had gone. Sherye cleaned Jules's face and hands and lifted him from his chair. "My! You're a big fella, did you know that? You're going to grow up to be a tall, strong man just like your papa, aren't you?"
Jules had gotten over his shyness with her and willingly came into her arms. He patted her cheek, touched her ear and talked to her in his very special and to her totally incomprehensible dialect.
Sherye smiled and nodded as though she understood and agreed with every word. It didn't matter. He was talking to her and beginning to accept her presence. She would spend as much time as possible with him until she could understand everything he said.
She hugged him to her, inhaling the baby smell of talcum powder, freshly laundered clothes and warm skin. Her heart seemed to swell in her chest with joy. She'd always loved children. When she was growing up she'd laughingly planned to have half a dozen or more. Unfortunately things hadn't worked out that way. She'd given up hope that she would ever—
Sherye paused, wondering where those thoughts had come from. When nothing more came, she shrugged and shook her head. She didn't have time to think about her memories and lack of them at the moment. She had an exciting day planned—to learn her children's routine and to become an integral part of their lives.
They went outside until time for Jules's nap, then Sherye offered to read to Yve
tte until lunchtime. Yvette gave her one of her favorite books and listened with shining eyes while Sherye read to her.
Sherye spent the morning with the children and, together with Louise, supervised their lunch. When it was time for Yvette to rest and for Jules's afternoon nap, she gave each of them a hug and a kiss, promising to come back later.
Their hours together had made a significant difference in the children's behavior toward her. She had played games with them and made up stories—enlisting Yvette's help in the creative process. She'd found gentle ways to tease them and was delighted to witness Yvette's awkward attempts to tease her in return. Yvette's giggles at Sherye's reaction touched a wellspring of contentment somewhere deep inside.
She found the children endearing and came away with a sense of well-being that had been absent in her life. For the first time in a long while Sherye felt good about herself, as though she had finally accomplished something worthwhile.
She entered the dining room smiling to herself at some of Jules's antics. What a little clown he was. Sherye was already in the room when she became aware that Danielle and her mother were already there. All right, here was another test, one she was determined to pass. Think pleasant thoughts, set an example, she reminded herself as she nodded to both of them and sat down, placing her napkin in her lap.
She turned to Raoul's mother. "I know how strange this request must sound to you, but under the circumstances I'm afraid it's unavoidable. What would you like me to call you?"
The woman blinked, stared at her for a moment, then nodded regally. "My name is Felicity. Of course, Raoul and Danielle—"
"Would never use your given name," Sherye finished smoothly, determined that she would not call this frosty— and unquestionably rude—woman Maman. "May I have your permission to call you Felicity?"
Taken aback by Sherye's forthright request, the older woman hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"Thank you." Sherye turned next to Danielle. "I have a favor to ask of you."
An apprehensive expression crossed Danielle's face. Sherye could see her steel herself. "Of me?" she repeated timidly.
Oh, boy, I'm coming on too strong. It was because she was nervous and trying to compensate by sounding self-assured. Take this one step at a time, she coached herself. You can't turn things around overnight. This is going to take time and you 've got plenty of that.
Sherye smiled at Danielle. "Yes. I'd like to go to town but I don't have any transportation at the moment. Besides, under the present circumstances I'd probably become hopelessly lost. I was wondering—that is, if you have some time in the next few days, if you would mind taking me to town."
Once again Sherye was painfully aware of being the outsider, and she watched Danielle and Felicity exchange glances. Felicity suddenly showed a great deal of interest in her salad fork, while Danielle slowly met Sherye's patient gaze.
"You want me to take you to town?" Danielle repeated carefully, seemingly convinced that she had misunderstood Sherye's request.
Sherye gave an inward sigh and nodded. "I just need a few things. There really isn't a rush, of course."
Danielle looked around the room and down at her plate before she finally answered. "I don't have anything planned—that is, if you'd like—this afternoon would be fine."
Sherye let go of the breath she'd been unconsciously holding. "Oh, good. I'll jot down a list so I don't forget anything." She looked at each of the women, experimenting with a neutral topic of conversation. "The chateau is breathtaking in its beauty and design. You must be very proud of it."
Both of the women stiffened and looked away from her.
Oh, no. What now? Sherye waited but when neither one of them looked up or made an effort to respond, she grew impatient. "What? What did I say? What's wrong?"
"You've often referred to it as a prison or mausoleum."
Here we go again. She tried a light approach. "The blow to my head has obviously improved my appreciation of classic architecture."
One of the staff brought in their lunches and the three women ate their meal in silence. Sherye felt unbearably uncomfortable but forced herself to deal with her almost ungovernable need to bolt from the room.
By the time she had finished her meal, Sherye had developed a whale of a headache. No wonder. Tension had crept into the room, filling even the corners until she wanted to scream. No one made an effort to break the silence and she was at a loss to find a topic that didn't contain hidden land mines.
It was really too bad. She'd felt so good this morning, certain of her progress toward establishing healthier relationships with her children.
Perhaps she expected too much, she reminded herself. Just because she had no memory of these people did not mean that they could forget some of the things she must have said and done.
She fought the urge to blurt out apologies for her past behavior. She wanted to reassure them, to explain that she had changed, but she knew that would be pointless. What she would have to do was show them that the changes in her were real. Hopefully they would some day accept that, for whatever inexplicable reasons, she had experienced a major shift in her personality.
As soon as they finished the interminable meal Danielle placed her napkin beside her chair and nodded toward Sherye. "Why don't we meet in the foyer in half an hour? I'll have my car brought around."
Although she had made no comment regarding the arrangements, Felicity made her attitude clear. She was suspicious of Sherye and of her motives.
Sherye could hardly blame her.
Nevertheless, there was so much that she didn't understand about the household and the routine. So many things that she wanted to ask about, but discovered an unexpected shyness.
She'd wanted to ask if Raoul ever joined them for lunch. She felt awkward that she knew so little about her husband's routine. Since no place had been set for him today, she decided to wait and ask him the next time she saw him.
She'd gained the impression that the two of them did not spend much time together. Actually, she was relieved... or at least, she should have been. From every indication, she and Raoul did not have a very close relationship.
Since he was practically a stranger to her, she couldn't be bothered by that knowledge. She'd been surprised at her own reaction to the news that he planned to divorce her. A relationship she didn't remember was ending before she'd had a chance to salvage it. She'd felt dismayed.
The bewildering question to her was why now did she feel so strongly that she wanted her marriage to work when her past behavior had shown a distinct disregard for her husband and his family?
Puzzling questions with no answers. She felt as if there was a swarm of bees buzzing around inside her head, making her dizzy and driving her to distraction.
Getting away for a while would help, she was certain. Anything would be better than the present oppressive atmosphere.
She went upstairs and, after painstakingly searching, found a dress that she felt was more or less her style and changed into it. After checking the time, she quickly ran a comb through her hair and hurried downstairs so that she wouldn't cause Danielle to wait for her.
As soon as Danielle saw her come down the stairs she turned away and went out the front door, leaving it ajar for Sherye to follow. Not a great beginning, but at least Danielle had agreed to go. Wasn't that a start?
She found Danielle waiting in a late-model sports car, its sleek lines and bright metallic color unexpected for someone as quiet as Danielle. The woman had hidden depths.
Sherye was encouraged to think she might—with enough patience—eventually reach those depths.
"Hi," she said in a casual voice. She opened the passenger door and crawled inside. "I hope you didn't have to wait long," she added, fastening her seat belt.
Danielle shook her head and made some noncommittal sound as they started down the long driveway.
"I like your car."
"Thank you."
"Did you choose it yourself?"
/> Danielle glanced out of the corner of her eye before asking, "You don't think it fits my personality, do you?"
Nothing like a hint of hostility to add richness to the occasion. Sherye caught herself counting silently to ten, gave her head a tiny shake and replied, "I don't really have an opinion of your personality, Danielle. The most I'm guilty of at the moment is attempting to make conversation, that's all."
They rode in silence for a long stretch, a silence that Sherye refused to break. Instead she admired the countryside as though this was the first time she'd seen it. At long last Danielle said, "I'm sorry." She seemed to be at a loss for words. In a sudden burst she said, "I realize I'm oversensitive. It's just that—" Abruptly she stopped speaking.
Sherye waited. When Danielle didn't say anything more, Sherye decided to push her luck with Danielle by prompting in a quiet voice, "It's just that—what?"
Danielle shook her head without looking at Sherye. Danielle's tenseness showed in every line of her body. When Sherye made no more attempt to draw her out, Danielle once again blurted out what she was thinking.
"I guess I'm having trouble adjusting to the difference in you."
Ah. Now we're getting somewhere. "In what way?" she asked casually.
"In the past you've always ignored me."
Whatever she'd been expecting, that wasn't it.
"Ignored you!" she repeated slowly. "Why?"
Danielle shrugged, keeping her eyes on the road. "Oh, I understand. After all, we don't have anything in common. You're a famous model, while I—" Once again she came to a complete verbal halt as though anything she might add was self-evident.
Sherye felt sickened at being given another glimpse of herself. "How dreadful," she said in a low voice, feeling ashamed. "I've been going around bragging about being a famous model and ignoring my husband's sister? How embarrassingly rude!"
After a brief silence Danielle offered, "See? This is what I mean. It's your reactions that seem so different."
Mystery Wife Page 8
