Bride of Desire (28 page)

 
Ten minutes later he appeared, striding through the glass doors, his medical case in one hand, turning to call something over his shoulder as he emerged.

 
Swallowing, Allie moved forward to intercept him. ‘Remy—can we talk?’

 
He checked instantly, his brows snapping together as he looked down at Tom. ‘Is the baby sick?’

 
‘No, he’s fine. But there’s something I need to say—to ask you.’

 
‘And you chose here?’ He glanced around him, his mouth twisting. ‘You would not prefer to find somewhere more private, where your powers of persuasion might have—more scope?’

 
‘No,’ she said, steadily. ‘I don’t think so.’

 
‘A pity,’ Remy drawled insolently. ‘I enjoyed the reminder of how delightful you are naked.’

 
She felt her face warm. Had to force herself to stand her ground, as the blue eyes moved down her body, mentally stripping her, she realised, all over again. And quite deliberately.

 
She said, ‘I learned yesterday that Tante Madelon is to marry your grandfather.’

 
He shrugged. ‘It seems so,’ he countered brusquely. ‘What of it?’

 
‘This is a good time for them—a happy time. I wouldn’t want anything to spoil that.’

 
‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘I begin to see. You think to appeal to my sentimental side, ma belle. Pas de chance.’

 
He walked past her, using the remote control to unlock his car.

 
‘Remy—listen—please.’ She turned desperately. ‘They’ve—found each other. After all these years. They want to spend the time they have left together.’

 
‘And your point is?’

 
‘If there’s a court case over Tom it will force them to take sides. It could ruin their hopes for the future.’ She took a step nearer. ‘Isn’t punishing me enough for you? Do they have to suffer too? Please think about what you’re doing before it’s too late.’

 
His laugh was harsh. ‘Since when, madame, have you cared so much for the feelings—the happiness—of other people?’

 
Her chin lifted in challenge. ‘And since when have you cared so little—Dr de Brizat?’ She paused. ‘If you—leave Tom with me, I swear that you’ll still see him. As often as I can arrange. Once Tante and your grandfather are married, no one will think it strange if I visit Trehel.’

 
His brows lifted. ‘Occasional visits?’ he questioned jeeringly. ‘More pretence? I don’t think so. But there does not have to be a court case. You may, if you wish, voluntarily grant me custody of my son. A private matter between us, with no vulgar publicity. I might even allow you to visit him sometimes—if I am offered sufficient inducement,’ he added softly.

 
There was a silence, then Allie said bitterly, ‘I would never have believed you could be so cruel.’

 
His smile was hard. ‘Everything I know, I learned from you, ma belle.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I must go. Let me know if you wish to—negotiate terms.’ He walked across and bent over the buggy, kissing the top of Tom’s head. ‘Au revoir, mon brave.’ He straightened, his eyes meeting hers. ‘When you have a moment, you might teach him to say Papa,’ he told her mockingly. ‘A bient&frac;t, Alys.’

 
She stood gripping the handle of the buggy, watching him drive away.

 
That did no good at all, she thought wretchedly. In fact I’ve probably made things a damned sight worse.

 
She began to make her way back to where her own car was parked, so lost in her unhappy thoughts that she never noticed the figure standing motionless in the shade of the building. Or realised that Solange Geran’s gaze was following her like a dark, malignant shadow in the sun.

 
‘Are you really returning toEngland at the weekend?’ Tante asked sadly. ‘Can I not persuade you to stay for a little longer? Thomas so loves it here,’ she added persuasively. ‘He is a different child since he came. He is walking well, and he talks all the time—although it is not always certain what he is saying, of course. And he laughs and plays, and is not shy with anyone.’

 
‘He’s been transformed,’ Allie admitted, her eyes travelling to her son, who was chasing a butterfly between intervals of falling over amid squeals of delight. ‘And it’s wonderful. But—the ferry’s all booked.’

 
She leaned back in her chair, a hand shading her eyes from the sun dappling through the leaves of the tree. ‘Besides, it would be better if I went as planned. I feel that, at the very least, I—I’m something of an embarrassment.’

 
‘But there is so much still to be resolved,’ her great-aunt protested. ‘How can you leave—feeling as you do for Remy—and not tell him?’

 
‘Because it wouldn’t be something he wants to hear,’ Allie said tonelessly. ‘Too much has happened that he can’t possibly forgive.’

 
Tante looked at her gravely. ‘But you have given him a child, Alys.’ She saw Allie’s eyes widen in shock, and nodded. ‘Let us now speak openly, ma mie, and forget this myth that Thomas is a child of the Marchingtons. One has only to look at him to know the truth. Ask Madame Drouac, if you do not believe me,’ she added drily. ‘And Remy has a right to know this.’

 
Allie bent her head. She said in a low voice, ‘He knows already. He came here unexpectedly a few days ago and—saw Tom.’

 
Tante gasped. ‘Remy was here?’ Her voice was incredulous. ‘But why?’

 
‘I don’t know. He simply—arrived.’

 
‘Mon Dieu. And you said nothing?’

 
‘I didn’t know how to tell you.’ Allie shuddered. ‘It was a nightmare. We—quarrelled terribly, because I’d kept the baby’s existence from him along with everything else, and now he hates me more than ever.’ She closed her eyes. ‘In fact he’s so angry he’s threatening to take Tom away from me. Assume sole custody.’

 
There was a horrified silence, then, ‘No—and no,’ Tante declared strongly. ‘I do not believe it. I cannot. To part a young child and his mother? Remy would not do such a thing.’

 
Allie’s smile was bitter. ‘Maybe he thinks I’m not fit to be Tom’s mother.’ She sighed. ‘He’s changed—and I’m afraid that’s my fault.’

 
‘Not in his heart, chérie.’ Madame’s voice gentled. ‘That is impossible.’ She paused. ‘Remy has the de Brizat temper, but, like a summer storm, it is soon over. Once he is over the shock of knowing he has a son, he will listen to reason. Agree to—some compromise. I am certain of it.’

 
Allie shrugged unhappily. ‘All the same, I’m just waiting to hear from his lawyer,’ she said. ‘Expecting the axe to fall, but not knowing exactly when.’ She bit her lip. ‘I thought that if I wasn’t around, if I went back toEngland , he might become a little less angry, perhaps.’

 
She took a deep breath. ‘And, of course, somehow I have to break the news to Lady Marchington. God knows what her reaction will be.’

 
Tante looked austere. ‘It can hardly be any surprise to her. She must have known the truth would emerge one day.’

 
‘No,’ Allie said. ‘I—don’t think she ever did. She wanted Hugo’s son to carry on the Marchington name—and together they invented this fantasy that Tom was Hugo’s child. Only for Grace it’s become a reality, and she’ll fight to keep it. In fact, I dread to think what she might do.’

 
She sighed again. ‘Oh, God, what a mess I’ve made of everything.’

 
Tante patted her hand. ‘It has not been completely of your making, chérie. That marriage of yours—a disaster. If your father had lived, he would never have permitted it. Never! But your mother—all she could see was the title, the money, and the grand estate. Nothing else concerned her.’

 
And all I could see, Allie thought sadly, was a man in a wheelchair who said he needed me. Whose very survival seemed to be somehow my responsibility. So I put on my idealist’s hat and walked into the trap.

 
‘I should have stood up to them when I knew I was pregnant,’ she said slowly. ‘Instead of going along with this—madness. I should have walked out there and then. Made my own life.’

 
‘Perhaps. Yet it is not so easy when there is a child to consider. It is a woman’s instinct to protect, I think. To do what is necessary for the well-being of her baby, even if there has to be sacrifice.’

 
Sacrifice, Allie thought with a shudder. That’s a terrible word.

 
Tom came trotting over to present her with a handful of grass and a pebble. She admired them and thanked him for them with due solemnity, and was rewarded by his father’s slanting smile before he toddled off.

 
She watched him go, her heart twisting uncontrollably.

 
I’ve lost the only man I ever loved, she thought. If I lose my baby as well, what will I do? How can I live if I have nothing? Nothing?

 
And prayed that she would never have to find out.

 
CHAPTER TWELVE

 
A DAYpassed, and then another, but there was still no word from Remy. No communication from a lawyer. No request for Tom to be subjected to any form of test.

 
This is what it must be like to be standing in the dock, thought Allie. Waiting for the judge to pass sentence. Knowing that no plea of mitigation—no appeal—is going to make the slightest difference.

 
‘I feel as if I’m living on a knife-edge,’ she told Tante restlessly. ‘I can only suppose he’s biding his time. Waiting until I get back toEngland . I don’t know what the legal procedure is in cases like this.’

 
She paused. ‘Does anyone at Trehel know what he’s planning? Has—has anything been said?’

 
‘Not one word.’ Tante shook her head. ‘And if Georges knew, he would have told me.’ Her face was strained. ‘After all, Thomas is his great-grandson. He could not have kept such a thing to himself.’

 
Allie bit her lip. ‘When he finds out—will it make trouble between you? Because that’s the last thing I want.’

 
Tante sighed. ‘That, mon enfant, is in the lap of the gods. But life must go on,’ she added briskly. ‘And I have business in Ignac. Do you wish to come with me?’

 
Allie shook her head. ‘Tom’s in a scratchy mood. I think he’s cutting another tooth.’ Or maybe he’s picking up on my tensions, she thought. If I just knew what I was up against. If only something—anything would happen…

 
But there was nothing like coping with a fractious toddler for taking your mind off your problems, she thought a couple of hours later, when Tom had finally fallen asleep on her lap after a heavy-duty session with his favourite nursery rhyme book.

 
She’d sung the old verses to him over and over again until she was practically hoarse, letting her voice sink lower as his eyelids drooped.

 
She eased him gently into the corner of the sofa and got up, stretching, to make herself some coffee. She was waiting for the kettle to boil when the telephone sounded shrilly.

 
‘Wake Tom, whoever you are, and I’ll kill you,’ she muttered under her breath as she flew to answer it.

 
‘ Alice , is that you?’