Luc’s throat swelled with emotion because they, too, wanted so much more from her than that glassy-eyed stare. They wanted her back, fully alive and whole.
“Does this mean she’s waking up?” Madame Brouet cried with tears running down her face.
The doctor’s solemn gaze took in all of them. “I see no brain-wave activity. There’s been no verbal or motor response. But she has opened her eyes.
“Whether because of pain, or because Yves was speaking to her, or because she did it on her own, we don’t know yet. We’ll have to wait and see if there’s more response.
“In the meantime I’ll instruct the staff to keep her eyes moistened. I have rounds to make, then I’ll check on her again.”
After he left the room, Paulette’s mother turned to Luc. She grabbed his forearms. “Forgive me for fighting you all this time. Thank you, mon fils, for not giving up!” she cried before hugging him with surprising strength.
She hadn’t called him her son for so long. Luc’s arms closed around her. She was a little thing like Paulette.
How strange that at the moment Paulette’s mother was starting to believe in miracles, he had the presentiment there wouldn’t be one in Paulette’s case.
When he’d been a boy about seven or eight, he’d found an injured bird in the vineyard after a storm. He’d picked it up and run to his father who had been able to fix anything.
But his parent had just shaken his head and said, “He’s gone.”
“But his eyes are open, Papa.”
“Sometimes that’s the way it is.”
“We’ll all stay here for the rest of the night and pray for another sign,” Paulette’s father announced, jerking Luc back to the present.
There’d be no flight to London this evening.
Rachel held the digital camera screen in front of her grandfather’s eyes so he could look at Solange and Giles.
“I see a strong resemblance to Louis.”
“When you get better, you can tell her that in person.” She put the camera on the bedstand. “Do you want one of the truffles I brought you from Switzerland?’
“Maybe lat—” He broke off, coughing.
Rachel was in shock to see that, in two weeks, he’d gone downhill.
“What’s the matter, my sweet girl? You left for France with a light in your eyes. Now it’s gone.” His coughing shook the bed.
“I detect all the signs of a man. I’ve wondered when it was finally going to happen.”
She bowed her head to hide her anguish, but it was too late. Her grandfather knew her better than anyone. His compassion found that secret place inside her where all her pain was locked up. Suddenly she was convulsed.
“As soon as you’re able, tell me what he did to bring you so much pain.”
She lay her head on his arm. Throughout his episodes of coughing and the sobs that shook her body, she unburdened her soul to him. When she’d finished, he patted her head.
“This could take some time to sort out.”
Rachel rose up. She wiped the tears off her chin. “It’s over, Grandfather.”
“Don’t be so sure. Life is full of surprises when we least expect them. In the meantime I have an idea.”
“What is it?”
“When Dr Lloyd tells me I’m well enough to travel, let’s get on a plane and go visit Rebecca. It’ll be just the three of us. I’ve missed her and know you have, too.
“When you were little, you were inseparable and told each other everything. You two need each other.”
Once again Rachel was overcome by emotions buried deep in her heart. She squeezed his hand because she couldn’t talk.
Rachel rested her head against his shoulder again, lost in thought, and it was a few minutes before she realized he’d fallen asleep. That was what he needed.
She tiptoed into the adjoining room where she planned to stay. It had twin beds.
When Rachel had come to the mansion, she’d taken her suitcase and laptop in there before going in to her grandfather.
Walking over to the dresser, she pulled the cell phone out of her purse. At a glance she saw that every recorded message came from Luc’s caller ID.
He could phone all he wanted, but there was nothing to say.
In anguish, she rang the nurse upstairs and told her she should come down now.
Then Rachel phoned information for the number of Rebecca’s best friend. Stephanie Ellison lived in London and would be able to give her Rebecca’s cell-phone number.
Now that Rebecca was in Wyoming, Rachel didn’t have the faintest idea where to reach her.
After a short conversation with Stephanie, who was happy to give it to her, Rachel placed the call.
It was noon in London, which meant five o’clock in the morning in Wyoming.
After that fiasco phone call with Rebecca almost a week ago, she didn’t believe her sister would ever need her or want to talk to her again.
But for once Rachel didn’t feel hesitant about what to say. This was an emergency.
The phone rang three times before a man answered. He put Rebecca on the line straight away.
“Rebecca? Stephanie helped me locate you. It’s Grandfather William. I—I’m afraid he’s dying.”
Her sister gasped in pain. Rachel felt it from thousands of miles away.
“He wants us to fly to New York so the three of us can be together, but that isn’t possible. So I’m begging you to get on the next plane.
“Though Dr Lloyd isn’t saying much, something tells me Grandfather’s time is coming close. If he were to pass away this next week, and you weren’t here…”
Rachel couldn’t speak for a minute. “All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t want you to suffer the way I did when Mother died so unexpectedly. Even though I was on my way to be with her, I wasn’t able to get there in time. It killed me.” Her voice shook.
“I suppose Grandfather could linger for a while longer, but he talked about you tonight. He wants to see you, Rebecca. So come as fast as you can.”
While she waited for her answer, a man’s voice came on the line.
“Rachel, this is Mitch Tucker. I’ll make sure your sister gets on a plane.”
She blinked. “Thank you, Mr Tucker. Our family needs her.” Whoever he was, Rachel was grateful.
She clicked off before collapsing on the bed. Once more sobs shook her body to think her grandfather wasn’t long for this earth.
There’d been too many losses over the years. Her parents’ divorce, the deaths of her mother and grandmother. Too much separation from her sister and Crawford grandparents, too many missed opportunities.
And since her trip to France, now this new pain had come into her life. The death of a dream.
A dream too good to be true. In real life Luc continued to mourn for his ex-wife who hovered between life and death.
Madame Chartier had spoken the truth. When you loved someone as much as Luc loved Paulette, a decree of divorce meant nothing.
Three years at her bedside when he didn’t have to be…
“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Bella Lucia. How many are in your party?”
Luc’s eyes took in everything at a glance. From the understated elegance of the foyer you could either go left to the dining room, or right to the bar.
“I’m not here to dine. I have an appointment with your wine buyer, Ms Valentine. I missed my flight from France yesterday, so we made arrangements for tonight.”
“I see. What’s your name and I’ll let her know you’re here?”
“That won’t be necessary. She told me to walk on back to her office when I arrived. Thank you.”
Luc strode down the hall as if he knew exactly where to go. At this point he didn’t care how many lies he had to tell in order to speak to her.
After arriving at Heathrow, he’d gone straight to her flat, but she hadn’t answered the door. That left him with no choice but to corner her here where she couldn’t run from him.
Judging
by the crowd, Bella Lucia did a flourishing business. When he didn’t see her behind the bar, he kept on going. There were several doors, none with signs.
He opened the first one, having no idea what he’d find. It was an office with no personal items to tell him if it belonged to a man or a woman. But just as he turned to leave he noticed a bottle of Chartier Riesling on top of a file cabinet.
Interesting, since he happened to know Tokay was her favorite.
Behind the next door he found what he was looking for. Not only was there a stack of wine menus on the shelf, he spied an assortment of small framed pictures on the desk.
He was drawn to the one of a young Rachel and her twin sister. They were probably eleven or twelve, mounted on horseback and showing the proper carriage of expert equestrians.
No doubt the other pictures represented her parents and extended family.
Luc figured she was bound to come in her office before she went home. While he waited, he reached for one of the menus to examine. She’d put a nice list together of probably three hundred wines.
Naturally it was too soon for Chartier et Fils to have been added yet. It was only Monday evening. Two days since her flight from his house above Ribeauville.
As he was putting the menu back he heard voices outside the door, then it opened.
Rachel’s fragrance preceded her into the office. A faint sweet scent of roses that had clung to his bathrobe and the pillows on his bed.
Luc was behind the door so she didn’t immediately see him.
“Rachel?”
She gasped before spinning around. The force caused the material of her filmy lavender dress to swish around her legs.
But the lovely face before him had gone white. Her eyes were a nondescript gray, not the dreamy blue he remembered.
She looked ill. The change in her devastated him.
He hardly recognized her from the last time he’d seen her with her dark glossy hair fanned across the pillow, the lashes of her closed lids brushing against cheeks turned rosy by their lovemaking.
“You’ve wasted your time by coming here,” she stated in a dull voice.
Exhibiting a composure that left him incredulous, she walked behind her desk and unlocked a drawer to pull out her purse.
He moved closer. “We have to talk, Rachel. My mother told me what happened. Unfortunately she only sees and understands things from her perspective as a widow who hasn’t come to terms with my father’s death yet.
“You should have known that ignoring my phone calls wouldn’t keep me away.”
She eyed him without as much as a flicker of her lashes. He could scarcely credit her display of sang-froid.
“When I didn’t answer one of them, you should have known to leave well enough alone.”
He grimaced. “After what we shared, you should know I can’t and won’t accept that.”
“I agree we enjoyed a very special night together. Now it’s over, and I have to go.”
“It was much more than that and you know it,” he bit out.
“Paulette and I haven’t been husband and wife for three years, Rachel.”
“As your mother said, a piece of paper ending a marriage doesn’t necessarily make it so. Your devotion to Paulette leaves me in awe.”
She started for the door.
“Rachel—” he ground out.
“Don’t you get it?” Her cheeks flamed. “I wish I hadn’t been the woman you used in a moment of weakness. But that’s my fault for not listening to you when you warned me I might have regrets.
“As I told you during the storm, I could have gone inside at any time. I could have gotten in my car and left your house at any time after that. But I didn’t. All my fault. And now, just as you thought, I have regrets. Besides not saving myself for marriage, I dishonored the woman you married for better for worse, in sickness and in health. Please stand aside.”
He remained in place. “You’re not leaving until I tell you everything I should have told you after I asked you to stay for the weekend.
“I want to explain so you’ll understand what’s been going on inside me.”
“Inside you?” Her head reared back. “You have no conception of what you’ve done to me!”
“You’re wrong,” he whispered in pain.
She shook her head. “Why couldn’t you have told me while we were swimming? Or during dinner at the Petit Vosges?”
Luc groaned to see the anguish on her beautiful face.
“I was tormented, Rachel. I didn’t want you to leave Alsace, but I knew I couldn’t make any promises to you because Paulette is still alive. I’m still committed to being there for her.”
Her eyes were wild with pain. “So you took your pleasure behind everyone’s back!”
Her salvo found its mark. “I wish to God I’d handled things differently.”
“So do I!” He felt her body trembling. “When you first told me you were divorced, what you should have said was, ‘My wife’s lying in a coma.’
“That would have done it for me because it would only have been the truth! I would have placed my order with Giles the next day and been long gone. Now please move away from the door.”
His chest tightened. “Not until you hear me out.”
“This conversation comes a lifetime too late!” Her features looked like chiseled marble.
“Nevertheless I’m not going anywhere. You deserve to hear the truth from me, not my mother’s version.”
Pain and sorrow glinted in her eyes, shaking him to the core before she eventually sank down in the chair in defeat.
“I want you to know everything from the very beginning.
“I was twenty-seven when I married Paulette Brouet. She was twenty-two, the little sister of my best friend Yves.
“We weren’t childhood sweethearts. I had several meaningful relationships with women before I began to notice her in a different light. Somewhere along the way I fell in love and we got married.
“She wanted children right away, but it took three years for her to conceive our son.”
He heard a gasp of shock before Rachel’s head came up.
“You mean my mother didn’t tell you?”
“No,” she whispered.
He leaned against the door. “At Paulette’s six-months check-up, the doctor couldn’t find a heartbeat.”
A compassionate cry escaped Rachel’s throat despite her anger at him.
“Miscarriages happen. Yves’ wife had one. My mother had two. I was devastated, but the doctor assured us she could have another baby.
“Paulette was inconsolable; I knew it was natural for her to feel that way. Her hormones had put her in a severe depression.
“I did everything I could to bring her out of it. A few months later I took her on a cruise, hoping to get her pregnant again. To my shock, she asked me not to touch her.”
Rachel’s hands went to the sides of her chair, as if bracing herself.
“I realized she was still grieving for our unborn child. So I left her alone, hoping time would heal the worst of her pain.
“Six months to the day the baby died, she said she wanted a divorce.
“I consulted a psychiatrist. He said she had an irrational fear of getting pregnant again and then losing it. If she would let him, he could help her. But she had become so emotionally disturbed, she wouldn’t hear of it and moved home with her family.”
Rachel jumped up from the chair. “I don’t think I want to hear any more.”
“I’m almost through. At first I fought our separation, but Yves talked me into going along with it. He was convinced that in time she’d get over the worst of the loss and want to get back with me.
“I wanted to believe it, so I agreed. To make things easier all the way around, I gave her the house I’d bought for us, and I moved in with my family.
“Two days after our divorce was final, she was involved in a car accident. When I was told she was lying unconscious in the hospital, a new nightmare beg
an.”
Rachel refused to look at him. “I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to make it through life this long.
“Go back to her bedside, Luc. I’m going to my grandfather’s.”
He put a hand on her arm. “Is he worse?”
Her lower lip trembled, the first sign to let him know she was barely holding on.
“This morning Dr Lloyd admitted he’s dying.” There was a brief pause. “Unlike Paulette who could possibly wake up from her coma, there’s no such hope for Grandfather.”
“I’m sorry, Rachel,” he whispered. “I know how much you love him. I’ll drive you to his house.”
“No.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp. “This is goodbye, Luc. To borrow an expression your mother used with me, ‘Adieu’.”
Luc had no choice but to let her disappear out the door.
Until now he hadn’t realized the depth of the damage he’d done.
By waiting to tell her about Paulette until after he’d come home with groceries that day, he’d given his mother the perfect opportunity to vent her pain in a way that had broken something inside Rachel.
Unfortunately she’d come home to another nightmare.
Much as he wanted to go after her, he would have to wait until her grandfather had passed away and she’d managed to work through some of her grief.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RACHEL slipped out the rear door of the restaurant where deliveries were made. At the end of the alley she hailed a taxi and went straight to her grandfather’s.
Finding Luc in her office had shocked her so much, she’d had to get out of there.
Hearing about the loss of their baby and Paulette’s tragic situation had turned Rachel inside out.
Surely Luc didn’t believe they would pick up where they’d left off just because he’d finally told her the truth about his life—
Rachel felt as if the night they’d spent together had happened to someone else on a different planet. She couldn’t relate to that Rachel who’d begged and pleaded with Luc to let her help him secure his vines. Anything to get closer to him.
Anger and humiliation swept over her to realize she was the one who’d thrown herself at him. She had no one but herself to blame.
Having the Frenchman's Baby Page 12
