Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 3 (59 page)

‘Lauren—’

‘No, really. All Clive’s needs came first. Everything was geared to him and his success. He went off to Australia seven years ago and settled there, marrying a local girl and starting a family. Two years later, wanting to be near their grandchildren, my parents—’ she stumbled over the words ‘—decided to take early retirement and emigrate. Before they left, they told me the whole story, explained their need to go and gave me Gatehouse Cottage as a gift, a pay-off to salve their consciences and feel they had done right by me, I guess.’ A part of her, a part of that child she had once been, craved to be loved for herself…to be really wanted. But she didn’t say that aloud. ‘Fortunately, I’m happy here—I love my friends and my job.’

‘So they just cut you loose? They left you alone to deal with the shock, having told you the truth about your life?’ Gabriel protested, his anger on her behalf clear.

‘Yes.’

He shook his head and huffed out a breath. ‘Do you know anything about your birth parents?’

‘Only that they died in an accident shortly after I was born. There weren’t any grandparents or siblings to take me in…’ not who wanted her, anyway, she added silently ‘…so I was taken into care and put up for adoption.’

Gabriel didn’t say anything for a few moments but Lauren hardly noticed as she was lost in thought. There was so much
she wanted to know about the family she had originally come from, not least details of her medical history. Was there any clue among her birth relatives that could explain the weird things happening with her eyesight?

‘I understand how disruptive and unsettling learning the truth about your identity can be, Lauren.’

Startled from her reverie, she looked up and saw that the pain in Gabriel’s eyes matched that lacing his voice. ‘You, too?’

‘Yes.’

Hurting for him, she returned the pressure of his fingers. ‘Can you tell me now?’

The only sound in the room was the crackling of the flames as they ate into the wood in the fireplace. Lauren held her breath. Was the time right for Gabriel to open up and trust her with the demons that had driven him from his home?

‘Y
OU
are not alone in learning late on that everything you thought you knew about yourself, your family, your life is a lie, Lauren. Or in wondering where you fit in.’

As he spoke the words, Gabriel found it easier than he had imagined to confide in Lauren. He had been so contented these last weeks in Penhally Bay that he had largely succeeded in pushing France and the unresolved issues there from his mind. The approach of Christmas had brought them to the fore again. At least this year promised to be more settled and happier. Last year had been the first Christmas without his father, bringing back the pain of his loss and the anger and uncertainty at the secrets that had come to light after his death, leading to a widening of the rift with Yvette and the row about his future.

Lauren had shared her background with him and he more than understood how shocked and hurt she must have felt, learning about her adoption in such a way and then being cut off by the couple who had raised her. The strength of his desire to have been here to support and protect her through such a difficult time took him by surprise and made him realise just how involved his feelings for her had become. He knew with utter conviction that he trusted Lauren completely. Without giving himself any more time to consider his actions,
he sat back on his heels in front of the fire and told her things he had never shared with anyone else, laying bare the skeletons in the Devereux family cupboard.

‘My father, Pierre, died twenty months ago. He was fifty-eight. It was sudden and unexpected…a big shock. We were very close,’ he explained, shying away from the knowledge that his father had kept such an important truth from him. ‘I was working at a practice in Paris at the time, in an area that served a poor community and a large immigrant population.’

Lauren edged closer and he was happy to let her take his hand in hers to return the understanding and comfort he had tried to offer her a short while ago. ‘Gabe, I’m so sorry about your father.’

‘Thank you. The trouble began shortly afterwards.’

‘Trouble?’ Lauren queried with a frown.

‘The exposing of family secrets and lies.’ He stared into the flickering flames of the fire and sighed. ‘I have always had a difficult relationship with Maman. She was cold, unforgiving, dictatorial, and mostly I was raised by a nanny. I spent a lot of time with Papa, but never with Maman. Now I know why. And why my skin is darker than most of the other members of the family. Yvette Devereux is
not
my mother. She did not give birth to me and she resented it that she had to raise me.’

‘Oh, Gabe…How could she?’

He shot Lauren a quick glance but saw nothing but concern and understanding in her slate-grey eyes. ‘I only have her side of the story—a story she took vicious delight in telling me after the funeral. Part of me feels betrayed that my father never explained to me himself but, despite that, I did know him and love him and the things Yvette said just don’t make sense. I have the feeling she has embellished the truth at best and lied at worst to serve her own ends.’

‘What was her explanation?’ Lauren asked, encouraging him to talk it out.

‘She said that my father had an affair with a lowly woman from Martinique, a
servant
—it infuriated me the way she used that word. He took me away from this woman and demanded Yvette bring me up as her own, using her obsessive sense of duty and fear of sullying the family name to force her to agree. Now she expects me to pay her back for all the years she had to be humiliated and put up with me.’

‘That’s absurd,’ Lauren exploded, gripping his hand. ‘You are not to blame for anything. Whatever the truth of your birth, your father—who must have been very young at the time—took you, loved you and raised you. Yvette had choices of her own. Choices that are not your responsibility. What does she expect you to do?’

‘The first demand is that I stop playing at being a doctor and—’

‘Playing?’ she interrupted with outrage.

‘To Yvette my career and lifestyle are not good enough for the family name and she sees it as my duty to take my father’s place in the running of the family estates, safeguarding her position. She doesn’t feel secure that the decisions and the control of finances are left in the hands of my uncle’s side of the family, despite the provisions made for her in my father’s will.’ His cynicism deepened as he thought of Yvette’s other plans for him. ‘She also expects me to marry someone socially acceptable of her choosing.’

Lauren stared at him, wide-eyed. ‘No way. That’s archaic and ridiculous.’

‘Exactly. But so determined was she that she sent Adèle to Paris to lure me.’

‘Lure you?’

‘Yes. We went out for a while, but then I found out about the deceit, that Yvette had set me up and was using Adèle to try to ensure I gave up medicine and returned home, especially that I left what Yvette considered an unacceptable job. She
made a lot of trouble for me at the practice. Adèle was to be handsomely rewarded with my name…plus the family money and standing, of course, which interested her far more than I did.’ He sighed before continuing. ‘That’s why I needed the space away. First in St Ouen-sur-Mer and now here in Penhally Bay. No matter what levels of guilt my mother tries to lay on me, I have no intention of marrying for convenience.’

‘Nor should you. And you can’t give up medicine either. It’s your
life
.’ Lauren squeezed his hand, her gaze earnest. ‘You are an amazing doctor, Gabe. You have to live your own life in whatever way is right for you. Don’t let Yvette’s schemes and any misplaced guilt force you into something that would make you unhappy and change the person you are.’

It felt amazing to have someone believe in him. Cupping her face, he kissed her before drawing her close and wrapping his arms around her. ‘Thank you. I think Yvette is bitter that she could never have children of her own and give my father a legitimate heir. Not that I believe theirs was ever a love match—she was as distant to my father as she was to me. She’s an attractive woman in a polished, icy kind of way. Everything was, and remains, about duty and appearances to her.’ He slid Lauren off the sofa and nestled her more snugly into his embrace, breathing in her scent. ‘What hurts is that Papa never explained any of this. I don’t know his side of it, what is the whole truth and what is exaggerated. He wasn’t a man to avoid anything, no matter how awkward, which makes me more confused that he kept it from me. I thought he approved of my career, that he was proud of me.’

‘Of course he was proud of you,’ she protested heatedly. ‘How could he not be?’

Lauren’s loyal support and fierce protectiveness eased some of the tension inside him and he found it easier to continue his story. ‘My father and his brother inherited a big estate that includes a vineyard, a farm and assorted business
holdings, all funded by my ancestors who made their fortunes in the Caribbean. I find it hard to come to terms with that part of my family history. I feel ashamed that my family’s money and success was built on the disenfranchisement and misery of others, even if it was generations ago. I had so many privileges and took them for granted, not knowing it was based on the hard work and sacrifices of those who’d had nothing, often not even their freedom,’ he told her, his emotions scarcely held in check.

‘You are not accountable for the actions others took years ago. Many businesses and families today are founded on regrettable things from times past. What matters is how
you
act and what you do with those things in your own control.’

‘Logically I know that, but…’ He hesitated, brushing his free hand over his face. ‘It’s just been a confusing time with much to try to come to terms with. The identity of my birth mother explains my darker skin—something I share with a couple of distant cousins, which was explained away by the past involvements and dalliances of my great-grandfather and grandfather in the Caribbean. Nothing was said about my father. I want to learn more about my true heritage and find out more about my real mother, but I don’t even know her name.’

Lauren’s arms tightened around him. ‘So many things go through your mind, so many questions that have no answers.’

‘Yes.’ He stroked her hair, knowing from what she had told him of her own adoption and family circumstances that she understood the sense of rootlessness and uncertainty. ‘I never questioned my ethnicity and very identity before. Now…’

An aching vulnerability laced Gabriel’s voice, cutting Lauren deep inside. She felt his pain and confusion, knew exactly where he was coming from, and wished she could do more to reassure him and help him find a solution, a
resolution
, to his past. She’d had five years to get her head around who she was and how her perceptions had changed. Gabriel
had known for less than two years. And she had not suffered a bereavement. He had lost the father he had loved and who he now questioned. That had to be impossibly hard. If there were things she needed to know, she could ask—it wouldn’t be pleasant, but she had the choice. Gabriel didn’t. She wished she could ease his heartache, make things right for him, but all she could do was be there to listen and comfort and understand.

As well as mourning his father and dealing with the revelations about his true birth mother, Gabriel still had Yvette to contend with. The woman sounded awful. It was bad enough that she had been emotionally cold to a child in her care, worse that she wanted to change Gabriel and tie him to something so wrong for him. But to insinuate a woman into his life, one who cared nothing for him, with the purpose of influencing him, lying to him, deceiving him was unforgivable. No wonder Gabriel was loath to return to France or have contact with Yvette.

‘Never before has the colour of my skin been an issue.’

Startled from her thoughts and shocked by Gabriel’s words, Lauren frowned, pulling back to look at him, seeing the shadows dulling his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I never questioned my ancestry. If anyone mentioned my skin colour, it didn’t bother me. Now comments about it make me feel uncomfortable.’

‘Why would anyone mention it? No one in Penhally has said anything, have they?’ she asked, unable to imagine anyone being so narrow-minded.

‘One or two. Not in a prejudicial way,’ he added, and Lauren tamped down her anger on his behalf. ‘But I’m conscious of being different…the cuckoo in
my
family, to follow your analogy. That’s probably because of the derisive way Yvette spoke of my birth mother, as if the woman was beneath contempt, as if I was worth nothing.’

‘Your father didn’t think so. He cared about your mother and he loved you.’

‘I think so. I hope so. I wish I knew the circumstances, how Papa really felt, if he
did
have feelings for my mother or if I was a mistake,’ he murmured.

‘I understand the need to uncover your missing roots, to find answers to your questions, but
you
are the same person you’ve always been.’

As Gabriel released her and moved to put another couple of logs on the fire, Lauren’s heart cried out for the uncertainty he was feeling. She studied his handsome profile, the leanly sculpted body outlined under his shirt by the flickering flames, the play of muscle along hair-dusted forearms.

‘What?’ he asked, a quizzical smile on his face as he turned back to her.

She shook her head, raising a hand to cup his jaw. The end-of-the-day stubble there prickled against her palm, reminding her how exciting and arousing the rasp of it felt on her body as he caressed and explored her with his mouth. Realising he was waiting for her answer, she returned her gaze to his.

‘The colour of your skin is not what I see when I look at you.’

‘What
do
you see, Lauren?’ he asked huskily, taking her hand and moving it so he could kiss her palm, his tongue tracing teasing circles, igniting the fiery need for him that always simmered inside her.

‘I see
you
. All that makes you the man you are. An excellent doctor…one who shows great care and consideration for his patients, and…’

He nibbled on her fingers, momentarily stealing her breath and her words as he slowly sucked each one in turn into his mouth, distracting her. ‘And?’

‘And,’ she continued, trying to force the words past the constriction in her throat, every part of her trembling with desire, ‘I see a gorgeous man who is warm and intelligent, funny and generous. A man who is great to be with, who is a loyal friend, who makes me feel good…and who is incredibly sexy.’ Her
breath ragged, her voice rough with emotion, she looked deep into his eyes, seeing how they darkened with answering passion. ‘Gabe, you are beautiful just as you are.’

She gasped in surprise as he caught her to him, one hand threading through her hair to hold her still for his inflaming, hungry kiss. Kneeling in front of him, she opened her mouth hotly in welcome. His free hand slid down her back to shape her rear and pull her against him, leaving her in no doubt of his growing arousal. With Gabriel she felt truly alive, aware of every sensation. The fierceness of his desire was a powerful aphrodisiac, heightening her own. He made her feel whole, complete, and so wanted. Needing to make him feel the same way, to reassure him and prove to him how special he was, she took over, pushing him back until he was lying on the floor beneath her.

She sat up and went to work on his clothes, glad they had left lamps on in the room so she could see him as she slipped each button free before he impatiently pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. Bending to him, she took her time working down his torso with her mouth and fingers, lingering over his nipples, then his navel, his muscles rippling and tautening, before licking down to the waistband of his jeans.

‘No. Let me,’ she demanded, pushing his hands away when he moved to undo his belt.

With a groan, Gabriel surrendered to her and she teased him, fondling the hard length of him through the soft, worn denim. ‘Lauren,’ he growled in warning.

Smiling, she unfastened his belt, then unsnapped the jeans and lowered the zip as slowly as she could, her own aching desire increasing with every moment. He raised his hips to aid her as she skimmed down his jeans and briefs. Once he was naked, she revelled in enjoying his body, in bringing him pleasure, encouraged by the sounds he made, the way his body shifted restlessly beneath her.