White Lies (22 page)

The pain in her side suddenly stopped her from breaking. Exhausted, she leaned against the trunk of a flame-tree. Her child was all she had. But... Her head tipped back and the tears streamed down her face.

Her anguished cry rent the air and there was a tremendous flapping of wings as the birds fled from the shelter of the trees around her. The sky was a deep, searing blue between the fanned branches above and the bright scarlet flowers on the flame-tree looked like bursts of fireworks.

Pained by the beauty she saw, she gazed miserably instead at the forest floor. Her heart was breaking.

'What shall I do?' she said aloud in total despair. 'Oh, help me, someone!'

She heard a crashing sound from back down the path and knew that it must be Pascal. But she was too tired and too listless to run any more. Nothing worse could happen to her. What did anything matter now?

The hurrying feet stopped. 'We are not brother and sister,' came Pascal's voice, strong with confidence, laced with a hurting compassion. She turned her head in a hopeless gesture, refusing to listen. 'Susannah assures me we're not. Father is lying for some foul purpose.' She kept her head bowed. 'He was so convincing that I believed him when he told me you were his daughter a few days ago. That's why I didn't come back home.'

'And why you found solace in another woman's arms?' she demanded brutally, wanting him to be hurt too.

He winced. 'Do you think I could possibly contemplate sex after what I'd discovered?' he replied. 'I could believe anything of you,' she said rawly. 'Mandy!' he said in a helpless tone. 'I was trying to do what was best! After Father told me, I went to Anse La Verdure Hotel and never left my villa. I paced up and down for hour after hour, trying to work out what to do—'

'The blonde was a figment of my imagination?' she cried waspishly.

'No. One of the girls in Reception came to tell me that she'd been asking for my father. I was trying to find out what the woman wanted when you turned up.'

Mandy flushed, remembering. 'You were half-naked!

Her clothes—'

'Mandy!' he said in exasperation. 'I'd been sitting in my villa when I was told this woman wanted to see Father. I didn't stop to change or put on a shirt. It is a beach resort, you know! And I interrupted her shower, I think. She answered the door in her robe and I pushed past her and began to interrogate her.

'When you accused me of infidelity, I decided it was my way out. I would behave brutally towards you so that you'd want to leave me. And you'd never find out the truth. I couldn't bear you to know. My infidelity seemed the lesser of the two evils.'

His words sank in. 'You thought it was true, then.'

'I did. Not any more.'

She looked up, wanting to believe that. 'Why not?'

'Susannah ran after me just now,' he said quietly. 'I was more interested in finding you, but she was yelling something about it being all right. That we weren't related and we mustn't worry. Maybe she knows something no one else does. She was very close to my mother so we can find out. I want you to come back and talk to Susannah,' he said gravely. 'We can't just part without knowing for certain. We can't give up what we had—'

'Your father was so sure—' she began.

'Every instinct in my body tells me not to believe it,' he replied, his tone strong and convincing.

She hugged herself tightly, her pale face stained with tears. 'Why did you try to prevent me from knowing?' she asked shakily.

He gave a ghost of a smile. 'Because I love you. I love you so much that I'd do anything to protect you.'

The gentle, adoring tone pierced her like a knife. 'Oh, Pascal!' she sighed brokenly, and knew that she loved him still. And then she knew that they couldn't be related. It was impossible.

'You're everything to me,' he said thickly. 'I trust Susannah. Not Father. In my heart I
know
he's made a mistake—or the detective agency has. But, whatever the truth, I want to protect you and care for you more than anything in the world and I would do anything to save you from the way you are feeling now.'

She reeled at his impassioned words and her fuddled mind cleared as if it had been swept by a broom. Remembering the agony in his face when he had told her that he would always be unfaithful, she felt her heart contract. That had been an act of love. He'd put himself in a bad light so that she wouldn't be hurt.

'I love you,' he said soberly.

They couldn't be related. They just couldn't.

Her mouth trembled because she wanted to believe that there was a mistake and she feared that maybe it was blind hope that was telling her these things.

She groaned. At last she met his eyes, and wished that she hadn't. He was hurting as much as she was and it made her sob to see him so distressed. He had taken her in his arms before she could stop him. He was holding her as if he never wanted her to leave.

'Come back to the house,' he said gently. 'We have to question Susannah—and also the research. Father's detectives have come up with more than mine have and that surprises me. My people are thorough. Walk back and I'll tell you what I know.'

'Your father said that his wife was pregnant when she left here,' she said as they began to make their way through the forest.

'Yes. Mother disappeared and he washed his hands of her—and his child—till he learnt how ill he was. When I went to visit him a few days ago he showed me the correspondence between him and the detective agency. It seems that your mother was a Mary Brandon.
My
mother was called Mary too. She was the daughter of the Earl of Castlestowe, whose family seat is in Scotland. And after she disappeared she was traced to the Sunnyside nursing home.'

He frowned. 'However, I've only had a cursory glance at the agency's report—and I was stunned at the time and not thinking straight. I'd like to go through it carefully.'

'But.. .I couldn't
possibly
be from a titled family!' she demurred. 'Maybe there was a switch of those labels they pot on babies' wrists.' Even as she said that she realised that she was grasping at straws. But her conviction that an error had been made was growing. She loved Pascal and not as a brother.

'Who knows?' Pascal said. 'Anything's possible. Apparently Father had used Lacey's partner when he'd advertised for "companions" and he tried the same people and the same method to find you. In a way, I wish you
had
been destined for his bed,' he muttered. 'That I could have coped with.'

'I must know the truth,' she said in a small voice.

'We'll get you a DNA test as soon as possible. I know that the waiting will kill me.' His hands clenched into fists. 'I'd give anything not to hurt you! You've been through so much—'

'And you,' she said tremulously. Nausea was filling her stomach, swelling inside her like a foul poison. 'I'm going to be sick,' she whispered, and she retched till she thought that her body would split in two.

Pascal held her shoulders all the time, encouraging her, soothing her, gentling her. 'I love you,' he said. 'I will take care of you and protect you. Trust me.' He took out his handkerchief and tenderly wiped her face, then picked her up in his arms and grimly strode back to the house.

'What the hell's up with her?' said Vincente irritably when they appeared.

'I think you'd better go,' snarled Pascal, his face savage with anger, 'before I'm tempted to throttle you.'

'Because she's my daughter?' taunted the old man. 'Or because you're not my son?'

Mandy found herself slipping from Pascal's lifeless arms. Almost absently he set her on her feet, his eyes narrowed and wary.
'What
was that?' he asked menacingly.

Vincente smirked. 'I thought that would take the arrogant sneer off your face. You're not my son, Pascal. Now that my legitimate heir has turned up I can tell you that. You're a bastard. Your mother and I were married for six years with no sign of a son. I wanted one. You were... available. But neither I nor Mary gave you life. There's no blood of mine in your veins.'

Mandy gasped. Susannah had been right! There was no problem! 'We're not... brother and sister?' she said. A ton of guilt and despair lifted from her like a curtain. She'd never imagined it would be
that
way round—that
she
would prove to be Vincente's legitimate child, whereas Pascal... 'Pascal—'

But already he was lifting her into the air, laughing with her, kissing her. And then she found herself crushed to his breast, his heart racing as wildly as hers. They were not brother and sister. And at that moment those were the most wonderful words in the world.

'What the hell are you doing, Pascal? Aren't you upset?' growled Vincente angrily.

'No!' Pascal laughed. His hand stroked Mandy's hair and he looked into her eyes. 'Delighted.'

Vincente's face twisted in rage. 'Don't think I'm going to tell you who your parents are! You can whistle for that information!'

'Frankly,' said Pascal, 'I don't give a damn.'

'You won't get Beau Rivage!' raged his father. 'It'll be given to Mandy and her husband!'

'Suits me.' Pascal smiled at Mandy, his eyes bright with their secret. 'I think you need a celebratory drink, darling. I certainly do. Champagne?'

'Champagne,' she breathed, her eyes alight with joy. She could live again, love again.

They stole away from the house, tiptoeing down to the gazebo on the beach. They heard Vincente ranting around the house and garden, yelling himself hoarse, then the sound of Vincente's launch leaving the bay.

When the throb of the engine had died away, Pascal lit the hurricane lamps in their love-nest.

'Oh, Pascal, I can't believe it!' she cried passionately.

'Nor I.' His voice was shaky and his eyelashes were suspiciously wet.

Mandy watched him opening the champagne and wondered briefly whether Susannah was his mother- but remembered almost immediately that Susannah would have been only fifteen or sixteen when he was born.

'It's funny,' she mused. 'It's possible that I've found my parents after a lifetime of searching—and I'm not sure I'm too pleased about it. You've lost both of yours and you don't care at all!'

'But that's because we nearly lost something much more precious,' he said softly. 'Each other.' He put down the two glasses and came to kiss her. 'And, now we haven't, everything else pales into insignificance.'

'I'll say!' She gave a little shudder. 'When I thought you'd betrayed me my world came tumbling about my ears. I'll never forget how I felt. The shock—'

'I'm sorry, darling,' he said fervently. 'It hurt me to inflict such pain on you. But I couldn't tell you what I thought to be the truth. I couldn't let you live with that horror. I thought it better that you should hate and despise me—and perhaps find someone else to love. But it broke my heart to cause you distress,' he admitted.

She stroked his face and smoothed out the lines of anguish as he remembered that terrible moment. 'I doubt I'd ever have fallen in love so deeply again.'

Pascal squeezed her tightly as though he needed to release some of his heartfelt relief. 'Father's revelation seemed to fulfil a fear I'd had ever since I fell in love with you. On our honeymoon, you see, I had this feeling of dread,' he mused in her ear. 'Paranoiac, I know, but everything seemed too good to be true and I was half- afraid that I'd wake up one morning and you'd be gone. A figment of my imagination.'

'My feelings exactly!' she exclaimed in surprise, and they looked at one another, smiling ruefully. 'I could hardly believe my luck. For me, you were everything. I didn't dare to think that you loved me as completely as I love you.'

'But I do.' He touched her hair where a shaft of sun burnished it to a rich mahogany. 'When I think of you, I smile—'

'Giggle, you mean?' she teased, so secure now that she could pretend to be offended.

He took her hands in his, turned them over and kissed each palm reverently. 'Smile,' he repeated with mock severity, and then his eyes twinkled. 'You must have seen how happy I was, how I went about with a permanent grin on my face!' He gave a throaty chuckle. 'You've made me laugh again...' She raised an eyebrow, as if hurt, and he tapped her nose in fond reproof. 'You know what I mean!' he protested.

'Yes,' she said happily, knowing that she had found laughter too, after years of sadness. 'I do.'

Pascal touched his lips to hers. 'Knowing you're my wife gives me a feeling of warm happiness inside. When I'm away from you, I want to hurry back to you,' he said passionately. 'When I'm with you, I'm content. You're my friend, my lover, my wife, the mother of our baby. I love you so much, Mandy. I will never leave you,' he promised. 'Or our child.'

'Nor I you. We have each other and we have Beau Jardin. We have our child.'

He nodded. 'With you, Beau Jardin and our baby, I feel as contented as—'

'A honey-fed tiger,' she supplied with a giggle.

'Feed me honey,' he murmured wickedly. 'I'm tempted to devour you. Keep me sweet.'

Tenderly he kissed her throat and her breasts. Mandy shuddered and surrender herself in delight to her beloved husband's passion.

*****