Her Own Rules/Dangerous to Know (53 page)

“I think I am, Jack, yes.” I leaned closer to him. “I want you to do something for me. And for yourself, and this is vitally important, so please pay attention, don't start looking around the restaurant in that way.”

He brought his gaze back to mine. “I'm listening, Viv.”

“I want you to go to London.
Immediately.
I don't want you to waste any time. I want you to get Catherine and bring her back to Aix-en-Provence. I want you to marry her at once so that the baby is legitimate when it's born.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to start your life all over again. I want a new beginning for you, a new beginning for the Locke dynasty. The baby Catherine is carrying is the future of the dynasty. And Catherine herself is your future, Jack. You'll never meet anyone more suited to you than she. And she loves you so much.”

He sat very still, listening attentively to every word.

I smiled faintly. “It's odd, you know,” I continued. “I've just suddenly realized that Catherine loves you in exactly the same way I loved Sebastian.”

He lolled back in the chair, gave me a questioning look. And I couldn't help thinking that he looked so very much like his father at this moment. Leveling his blue eyes at me, he lifted a dark brow. “And how is that?” he asked finally.

“With all her heart and soul and mind,” I answered.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-EIGHT

T
he quietness of the old mill at Lourmarin had been restorative, just as I had known it would be. That was one of the reasons I loved to come back to Provence, to bask in the stillness of my house, to rediscover its beauty and the beauty of my gardens, to be at peace.

In the past two weeks the tranquility had been a godsend. I had sifted through my troubled thoughts, brought order to the chaos in my mind.

And now at last it was all so very clear to me. I understood everything and I had finally come to terms with myself.

I had changed.

I would never be the same again.

And I would never see the world in quite the same way, either.

Elements beyond my control had wrought these changes in me—Sebastian's suicide, Countess Zoë's confessions, Catherine's insights, my new-found knowledge of those I thought I knew, but had not known at all. And my new understanding of myself. I realized that at this moment in time I wanted to walk alone. For one thing, it had now become clear to me that I could not make a commitment to Kit Tremain. But I think I had always known that.

Jack and I had become closer than ever, perhaps because I had been so forthright about Sebastian and my revised perception of him. And somehow I had helped Jack to see the future more clearly than before.

Jack was at peace with himself at long last. He had resolved his hatred of his father; the turmoil in his heart had been vanquished. Jack had taken the advice I had given him in Paris. He had gone to see Catherine in London and brought her back with him to Aix-en-Provence. Between the two of us we had convinced her to become his wife.

They were married yesterday at the Château d'Cose.

It was an intimate wedding. We had all agreed this was the way it should be. Olivier Marchand and his wife Claudette were present, along with Madame Clothilde and her husband Maurice, and a few of the other old-timers from the estate, whom Jack, Luciana, and I had grown up with.

Luciana and Gerald had flown in from London, and Luciana was so cordial with me that I was amazed. She seemed happier and healthier. The change in her was so remarkable that I wondered if she were pregnant.

Afterward we had been served lunch in the garden. It had been such a lovely May day with the lilacs in full bloom and Catherine had made a beautiful bride in a pale pink dress and coat which set off her red hair. Jack had never been smarter in his life. He wore a dark blue suit, white shirt, and gray silk tie and looked more like Sebastian than ever. I had never seen him so happy. I was thrilled for him, thrilled for them both. They were going to be all right, those two. I had no fears.

Rising, I left my desk and walked across the library to the French doors overlooking the gardens. I stood for a moment staring out, thinking what a lovely evening it was. Then, pushing open the doors, I stepped onto the terrace.

My eyes turned toward the distant horizon.

The sky was changing as the sun sank low in the west. The colors along the rim of the horizon took my breath away: vermillion and orange running into peach and gold, violet bleeding into amethyst, and lilac striated with the palest pink. It was the most glorious sunset I had seen in a long time.

The radiant light streaming out from behind the darkening clouds looked supernatural, as if it were emanating from some hidden source below the line of somber hills.

Only the shrill ringing of the phone forced me to tear my eyes away from that extraordinary sky.

I stepped into the library and reached for the receiver.
“Vieux Moulin.
Hello?”

“Madame Trent, s'il vous plait.”

“This is she speaking. Hubert, is that you?”

“C'est moi, Madame. Bon soir—” He broke off, his voice trembling as he strived hard for control.

I knew what he was going to say, the news he had to impart before he spoke again. “Is it Countess Zoë, Hubert?” I asked quietly.

“Yes, Madame. She just died a few moments ago. She realized she was dying this afternoon. She asked me to let you know. ‘Telephone Madame Trent immediately, Hubert. She must be told at once.' That is what she said to me. It was her last wish. She died gently, Madame. And she was at peace.”

“Was her son Charles with her, Hubert?”

“Yes. Monsieur le Comte was at her bedside with his wife and little son. And Mademoiselle Ariel. Monsieur finally overruled his mother last week and brought his sister back from Africa.”

“I'm so glad they were all with her,” I said, my voice shaking. I brushed the tears off my cheeks. “Thank you, Hubert, for letting me know. Good night.”

“Good night, Madame.”

I replaced the receiver and went back to the terrace. I walked down the steps into the gardens Sebastian and I had planted so many years ago.

How beautiful they looked tonight. Many of the flowers had bloomed early this year. The borders were riotous with color and the early evening air was fragrant with their mingled scents.

I stood looking out toward my lavender fields and the meadows far beyond. Everything was a blur. I could not see anything through my tears.

My thoughts were of Countess Zoë. She had shown me that the past was immutable. My past was Sebastian and part of me would always belong to him. But I had let him go . . . I had exorcised his ghost at last. And now I could get on with my life. Like Jack, I could start anew.

Countess Zoë had set me free.

About the Author

Bestselling author
BARBARA TAYLOR BRADFORD
was born in Leeds and was a journalist in Yorkshire and Fleet Street before moving to New York, where she lives with her husband. She is published in ninety countries and forty languages, and ten of her books have become hugely successful television series.

 

www.barbarataylorbradford.com

 

Visit
www.AuthorTracker.com
for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.

Praise

“She's the envy of all of us who put pen to paper. Don't miss her.”

—Greensboro News & Record

 

“Her name on a novel . . . [promises] a good story, simply told, with a satisfying outcome . . . [her books] finding their way into people's homes and hearts.”

—Dayton Daily News

 

“Emotional.”

—Denver Rocky Mountain News

 

“Compelling.”

—Library Journal

 

“A master . . . A good storyteller.”

—Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

 

“You may fall in love . . . cry real tears . . . cheer.”

—Chicago Tribune

 

“Barbara Taylor Bradford can always be relied on to tell a good story.”

—Chattanooga Times

Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford

Just Rewards

Unexpected Blessings

Emma's Secret

Three Weeks in Paris

The Triumph of Katie Byrne

Where You Belong

A Sudden Change of Heart

Power of a Woman*

A Secret Affair*

Her Own Rules*

Love in Another Town*

Dangerous to Know*

Everything to Gain*

Angel

Remember

The Women in His Life

To Be the Best*

Act of Will*

Hold the Dream*

Voice of the Heart*

A Woman of Substance*

 

 

*Published by HarperCollins
Publishers

Copyright

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Her Own Rules
was originally published in paperback by HarperPaperbacks in June 1997; in hardcover by HarperCollins in 1996.

Dangerous to Know
was published in paperback by HarperPaperbacks in June 1996; in hardcover by HarperCollins in 1995.

HER OWN RULES
. Copyright © 1996 by Barbara Taylor Bradford.
DANGEROUS TO KNOW
. Copyright © 1995 by Barbara Taylor Bradford.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

FIRST EDITION

ISBN: 978-0-06-128486-1
ISBN-10: 0-06-128486-6

EPUB Edition AUGUST 2013 ISBN 9780062312570

07   08   09   10  
RRD
   10   9   8   7   6   5   4   3   2   1