The Right Bride? (7 page)

‘But I thought…’ The stumbling words were out before she could prevent them, their bewildered message unmistakable.

Oh, God, she thought, shamed to the bone. I’m pleading with him for sex when he’s already turned me down. Please—this can’t be happening to me.

Words slunk from the past to haunt her.
Useless
—
stupid
—
frigid…
All the taunts, the accusations, coming home to roost. Branding her for ever with their terrible truth.

Shocked blood rushed to her face as she realised, too, what she must look like, dazed with desire, her hardened nipples thrusting against the cling of her dishevelled blouse. Stunned, she scrambled away from him, clumsy in her haste. ‘Yes—yes, of course. I—I’m sorry. We should go. Tante will wonder…’

And then the words ran out on a little gasp, and she could only put her hands over her face, unable to bear the renewed humiliation of seeing the pity in his eyes when he looked at her.

Remy said something half under his breath, and his hands clamped firmly round her wrists, tugging them away.

‘You think, maybe, that I do not want you?’ The question was almost harsh. ‘But you are so wrong, Alys. I hesitate only because I do not wish you to think I am like that other man. That I ask only for the pleasure of the moment. For us, that can never be the choice, and we both know it. There must be more between us than just a meeting of bodies.’

‘Then—what?’ Somehow, Allie forced the question from trembling lips.

He sighed. ‘I think that I need you to trust me,
mon ange
.’

‘I do.’ Her protest was swift.

‘But not enough. Believe me.’ His tone was quiet but forceful. He cupped her face between his hands, the blue eyes intense. ‘How can you, when you hardly know me? When we hardly know each other?’ He shrugged, his smile crooked. ‘So—that must change. And I—I will have to learn patience.’

‘So will I.’ Her admission was shy. She turned her head, pressing a kiss into the warmth of his palm.

‘Ah,
mon coeur.
’ He took her back into his arms, holding her close for a few heart-stopping moments, releasing her with open reluctance. ‘We had better go now,’ he muttered roughly. ‘Before I am tempted beyond endurance.’

Allie’s glance through her lashes was mischievous as he helped her to her feet. ‘Isn’t that why you brought me here in the first place?’

‘Of course.’ His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘But I am only human, Alys, and therefore allowed to hope—being no saint.’

‘I’m glad.’ She glanced round at the standing stones. ‘The local variety took a tough line with straying girls. Maybe he could have used a little humanity too.’

‘Perhaps we were right not to risk his anger?’ Remy suggested. Then, as she turned away, he halted her. ‘Wait,
ma mie,
I need to tidy you a little.’ She obeyed, standing demurely while Remy carefully rebuttoned her gaping shirt and brushed tell-tale fronds of dried grass from her clothes and hair.

‘But I can do nothing about your eyes,
chérie,
or your beautiful mouth,’ he added huskily. ‘You look entirely like a girl who has been in the arms of her lover. I only hope your great-aunt does not bar me from her house.’

She won’t do that.
The words remained on her lips, unsaid, as she suddenly realised, with a kind of shock, that she could guarantee no such thing. Tante Madelon was a woman of another generation entirely, with strict views on marriage and its obligations, even when it was clearly as ill-advised and wretched as Allie’s was.

And as it would remain.

Because, all too soon, this brief respite would be over, and she would have to go back. Back to the misery of emptiness and blame.

She glanced sideways at him as they drove away, thinking of the strength of the arms that had held her, the grace of his mouth. Feeling her starving body clench in a swift, primitive craving that screamed out for the ultimate fulfilment.

She’d denied herself a normal life, she thought desperately, trying to appease her conscience. Surely she was entitled to some happiness—just for a while—wasn’t she? A little sweetness to comfort her in the barren time ahead? Was it really so much to ask?

She saw, in the wing mirror, the image of the stone circle, pointing grimly, like so many warning fingers, towards the sky. And realised, as her heart skipped a beat, that her question had been answered.

To hell with it, she told the unseen forces of retribution. I won’t give him up. Not yet. Because I can’t. And if there’s a price to pay, then I’ll just have to face that when it happens.

They said little on the way back to Les Sables. The road ahead was empty, and Remy took one hand from the wheel, clasping her fingers lightly as they drove.

So this is first love, she thought, turning to feast her eyes on him. Come to me at last.

And she saw his mouth slant in a swift smile, as if he’d read her thoughts.

As they drove up to the house, Tante emerged, and stood waiting for them. Her face was tranquil as she watched Remy go round to the passenger door and help her great-niece, very circumspectly, to alight, but Allie was not deceived.

She’s probably been pacing the rug since we left, she thought with a sigh.

Remy must have sensed the same thing, because he said, with a touch of dryness, ‘As you see, I have returned her safely,
madame
.’

She picked up his tone. ‘
Mon cher
Remy, I never doubted you for an instant.’ She paused. ‘May I offer you some coffee before you depart?’

‘
Merci, madame,
but I think I must get back to Trehel. I have some matters to discuss with the builders.’ He made her a small polite bow, then turned to Allie, his face smooth, but little devils glinting in his eyes. ‘
Au revoir,
Alys. I hope you will permit me to call on you again?’

She looked down at her feet. ‘Why, yes. Thank you. If you wish. That would be—very nice,’ she added wildly.

‘Then I too shall look forward to it.’ There was only the slightest tremor in his voice, but the wickedly prim face he pulled at her as he walked towards the Jeep was almost her undoing.

As he reached it, another vehicle—a blue pick-up—suddenly pulled in behind him with a crackling swirl of gravel. The driver’s door was flung wide, and a girl jumped down.

She was small, with silver-blonde hair and a pretty heartshaped face, all huge brown eyes, and a sexy mouth painted bright pink, with her finger and toenails enamelled to match.

She possessed a shapely figure bordering on the frankly voluptuous, set off by tight white trousers and a scoop-necked top in a stinging shade of violet. And she was smiling widely as she ran across to Remy and kissed him on both cheeks, standing charmingly on tiptoe in order to do so.

‘Chéri.’
She had a soft, throaty voice. ‘I thought I recognised your Jeep. But why are you here?’ She turned to Madelon. ‘Please tell me you are not ill,
ma chère madame
.’

‘Not in the least,’ said Tante briskly. ‘Dr de Brizat has been kind enough to show my great-niece from England something of the surrounding area. That is all.’

‘You, Remy? Turned tour guide?’ The newcomer gurgled with laughter. ‘
Mon Dieu,
the world will end tomorrow. And I thought your every moment outside work was spent either with Roland or on the renovations at Trehel.’

‘Not every moment,’ Remy returned coolly. ‘I allow myself some leisure—from time to time.’

Her eyes widened extravagantly in a way that Allie decided must have taken hours of practice. ‘Then your friends can hope to see more of you, maybe? What a pleasure that will be.’

She turned to Allie, her gaze flickering over her. A glance that assessed and dismissed. ‘So—an English visitor.’ She made it sound as if the other girl had escaped from a zoo. ‘Then we must all do what we can to ensure that you enjoy your vacation—
Mademoiselle.
..?’ She paused questioningly.

‘Alys,’ Remy supplied quietly. ‘Alys Colville.’

‘
Enchantée.
And I am Solange Geran.’ The smile flashed again, but the brown eyes were watchful. ‘I am sure we shall become friends. You intend to remain for a long time with
madame,
I hope.’

Under the gush, the message reached Allie loud and clear.

She considers me no contest, she thought. But, all the same, she’d be delighted to hear that I’m leaving tomorrow.

She shrugged gracefully. ‘My plans are—fluid at the moment.’

‘But mine, unfortunately, are not,’ Remy said briskly. ‘So, forgive me, but I must go.’ As he swung himself into the Jeep he looked briefly across at Allie, his lips miming a swift kiss before driving away.

‘Alors,
I must find my purse,’ Madelon Colville said as the noise of the engine faded. ‘I presume you have brought the eggs, Solange?’

Solange was looking at the road, her lower lip held in her teeth, but when she turned back she was dimpling. ‘But of course.
Une douzaine, madame, comme d’habitude
.’

‘Then bring them inside, if you will,’ Tante directed. ‘Come, Alys, and help me with the coffee.

‘Solange’s parents bought the farm from me,’ she added in an undertone as she led the way into the house. ‘But when her late father’s health began to fail she took a government grant and began converting the barns and outbuildings into
gîtes,
which have been a great success. The egg business is now merely a sideline, but at least it enables her to get away from Ravac.’

She pursed her lips. ‘Since she was widowed, Madame Geran has become something of a trial, I understand.’

Allie understood too. We could almost start a company, she thought. Difficult Widows R Us.

She said shortly, ‘Solange has my sympathy.’

Tante gave her an ironic look. ‘I doubt,
mon enfant,
that she would welcome it. Do you?’

It was an awkward little interlude. Solange arrived with the eggs, and accepted her cup of coffee with pretty thanks. Sitting at the table, listening to her chat away to Tante, Allie was aware that she was being covertly studied, and with no friendly eye.

And until a short while ago,
mademoiselle,
I didn’t know you existed either, she told the other girl silently.

Solange was amusing about the problems of running
gîtes,
especially Allie noted, where English guests were concerned. Their eccentricities, messy habits, and petty meannesses were dwelt on with particular relish. But her other main topic was Trehel, and the barn there that Remy was converting into a house for his own occupation.

‘It has taken so long, he is almost in despair,’ she confided. She sighed portentously. ‘But he would employ Gaston Levecq, in spite of all our warnings.’

‘The Levecqs lost their youngest child to meningitis,’ said Tante. ‘And
madame
suffered terribly with depression afterwards. Remy may have felt Gaston needed the distraction of a new project. And he is a good workman.’

‘Oh, I agree that it is going to be beautiful. All the top floor is finished now, and the view from the main bedroom is
formi
dable
.’ Solange played coyly with the handle of her coffee cup. ‘Remy has asked me to help with the décor, you understand?’

She drank the remains of her coffee and rose. ‘And now I must deliver the rest of the eggs,’ she announced brightly. ‘People will be wondering where I am.’

After she left, there was silence. Then Allie said, her smile forced, ‘I think I’ve just been warned off her territory.’

Tante’s voice was troubled. ‘
Mon enfant
—when you have gone back to your own life, she will still be here, and Remy too. Are you being quite fair?’

Allie bent her head. ‘Tante—please don’t ask me not to see him again, because I don’t think that’s possible.’

Madelon Colville gave a heavy sigh.
‘Mon Dieu,’
she said, half to herself. ‘Has it already gone so far and so fast?’

Colour rose in Allie’s face. ‘No,’ she protested. ‘Nothing’s—happened.’

Her great-aunt’s brows lifted. ‘Nothing? You mean,
en effet,
that you have not yet given yourself to him?’ Her little shrug was a masterpiece of Gallic cynicism. ‘Well, it is only a matter of time. Every word that was spoken—every look—proclaimed that.’

‘But we didn’t…’

‘Precisely.’ Madame Colville nodded grimly. ‘Alys—I say this only from love. It might be better for you to go now. Leave Brittany before real damage is done.’

Allie looked at her across the table, sudden tears hanging from her lashes. She said, ‘I don’t think I can.’ And her voice broke.

A
LLIE
got up early the next morning. She pulled on shorts and a tee-shirt, and let herself quietly out of the house. She didn’t go down to the beach, but walked along the top of the cliff until she reached a patch of grass, where she sat. She turned her face to the sun while the fresh sea breeze lifted the strands of her light brown hair, letting the cloud of Tante’s anxiety which had hung over her since the previous day dissipate, while her heart thudded in eager anticipation.

She did not have to wait long before she was aware of Roland’s hoofbeats, quiet on the short turf, and horse and rider dark against the pale morning sky.

He said softly, ‘I knew you would be here.’ He reached down a hand, pulling her up on to the saddle in front of him. Settling her carefully.

‘Won’t Roland mind?’ She ran a hand over the glossy mane.

‘He will have to accustom himself.’ As they moved off, he said, ‘Is there anything you wish to ask me,
ma belle
? Anything you need to know?’

‘No.’ His arms around her conveyed all the lovely certainty she needed. She found herself thinking Poor Solange, then added aloud, ‘Unless you have something you want to say to me?’

‘Many things.’ He pushed up the sleeve of her tee-shirt and kissed her bare shoulder, his lips warm and lingering against her cool skin. ‘But they will have to wait.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘To have breakfast,’ he said. ‘At Trehel.’

‘Oh,’ she said, a touch doubtfully. ‘Your family won’t mind?’

His lips touched her hair. ‘They will have to accustom themselves also.’

‘But how will I get back?’

‘Naturally I shall drive you home, before I go into Ignac. Or did you think I would send you back on Roland?’

‘It crossed my mind,’ she admitted, and heard him laugh softly.

They were quiet for a while, then she said, ‘Do you know this is only my second time on the back of a horse?’

‘
Vraiment?
I hope you are a little more comfortable this time. And that you do not find it as frightening.’

‘Oh, I’m still a little scared,’ she said. ‘But for very different reasons.’

‘Ah,
mon ange
.’ His voice was gentle. ‘Alys, you must know that I would never willingly do anything to hurt you.’

Or I you. Never willingly. But I know in my heart that I shall
—
because I can’t help myself…

Perhaps their need for each other would be like a summer storm, she thought with sudden sadness. Raging for a while, then blowing itself out, with no lasting harm in its wake. Maybe even enabling them to say goodbye as friends.

‘
Qu’as-tu,
Alys?’ He must have sensed her disquiet. ‘Is something the matter?’

‘No, nothing. Except—I was thinking how strange life is. How unexpected.’

‘You think so?’ She heard the smile in his voice. ‘Yet I know I have been waiting for you since the day I was born. Is it not the same for you?’

‘Yes,’ she told him quietly. ‘Oh, yes.’

And knew, with sadness, that she spoke only the truth. But that it was all, tragically, too late…

Trehel was an old grey stone house, massive among its surrounding grasslands and trees, with three storeys of shuttered
windows that seemed to be watching like half-closed eyes as they rode up. Allie could only hope the scrutiny was friendly.

Remy walked Roland round the side of the house to a large courtyard holding stables and outbuildings.

There was a big barn set well back from the yard, and Allie could hear the noise of sawing and hammering emanating from it.

‘Is that where you’re planning to live?’ she asked as Remy dismounted and lifted her down.

‘Yes,’ he said, then looked at her, his mouth twisting ruefully. ‘Ah, Solange must have told you. What else did she say?’

Allie shrugged. ‘That it hadn’t gone entirely to plan.’
Also, she happened to mention the view from the bedroom.

‘The building work has been more slow than I had hoped,’ he admitted. ‘However, it should be finished soon.’

‘May I see round it?’

‘Of course, but not now,’ he said, tossing Roland’s reins to the elderly man emerging from the stables. He added softly, ‘One day,
ma belle,
when we have more time.’ And the promise in his voice warmed her skin.

Then he took her hand, and led her into the house.

She found herself in a huge kitchen, with a long table at its centre. A tall white-haired man was busying himself at the range with a kettle as they came in, and the two dogs of indeterminate breed who were lying beside him looked up, thumped feathery tails on the rug, then relapsed into doing very little again.

The man turned, and Allie found herself being studied by shrewd blue eyes under bushy eyebrows.

He said, ‘So, Remy, who is this lovely girl you have brought to brighten our morning?’

‘I wish you to meet Alys, Grandpère. She is Celine Vaillac’s granddaughter.
Ma mie,
this is my grandfather, Georges de Brizat.’

‘But of course.’ The rather stern mouth softened into a warm smile. ‘I was foolish not to have known at once. You are very like her,
mademoiselle
.’

And you, she thought. One look at you, and I know exactly what Remy will be like as he grows old.

And she felt pain slash at her as she realised she would not be there to see him…

Oh, God, she thought, this is all so wrong. I shouldn’t even be here now. The whole situation’s getting out of hand.

But she recovered herself instantly, shook hands, murmuring a polite greeting, and sat at the table to be served with warm rolls, cherry jam, and large bowls of hot chocolate.

‘Where is Papa?’ Remy asked.

‘The Richaud baby. They telephoned at dawn after the first contraction, I think.’

‘Well, it is understandable,’ Remy said tolerantly. ‘After four girls, Richaud is desperate for a boy.’ He grinned. ‘It has become a matter of public concern, Alys. They have been laying odds in the Café des Sports.’

Her mouth was suddenly bone-dry. ‘Poor woman—to have so much expected of her,’ she managed, and gulped some of her chocolate.

Georges de Brizat came and sat at the head of the table, followed hopefully by the dogs. He gave Allie another thoughtful look. ‘You are staying with Madame Colville,
mademoiselle
? She is well, I hope.’

‘Absolutely fine.’ She forced a smile.

‘Good.’ His nod was faintly abstracted. ‘Good. You will tell her I was asking about her? Also, give her my best wishes?’

‘Yes—yes, of course.’

‘We knew each other many years ago, during the bad years of the Occupation. She and her sister were brave girls. Brave and very beautiful.’ He paused. ‘They had happy lives—with their Englishmen?’

‘Yes,’ Allie returned, faintly surprised. ‘Very happy.’

He nodded again, then applied himself to his breakfast.

One of the dogs came and laid a chin on her leg, and she stroked his silky head and fondled his ears, before slipping him a morsel of bread and jam, while Remy watched her with such tender amusement that she wanted to get up from her
chair, and go round the table into his arms, to remain there for ever.

But he was getting briskly to his feet. ‘I must go and shower. Get ready for work.’ As he passed his grandfather’s chair, he dropped a hand on the old man’s shoulder. ‘Be gentle with Alys, Grandpère. No Resistance-style interrogation,
s’il te plaît.’

When they were alone, Dr de Brizat cleared his throat. ‘Remy likes his joke, Mademoiselle Alys. But a beautiful girl at the breakfast table is a rarity in this house, so I am bound to be intrigued. How did you meet my grandson?’

Allie carefully added butter and jam to her remaining fragment of roll. ‘I was on the beach below Les Sables. Remy warned me about the tide, but I stupidly took no notice, so he—came back for me.’

‘He behaved with great wisdom,’ said his grandfather. ‘You are planning a lengthy visit to Madame Colville?’

She flushed. ‘I’m not altogether sure of my plans—at the moment.’

She was bracing herself for more questions, when the rear door opened, and a voice called, ‘Remy?
Tu es là?
’ Solange Geran walked into the kitchen. She presented a more muted appearance this morning, in denim jeans and a matching shirt, her hair pulled back from her face.

She checked when she saw Allie, looking thunderstruck. ‘You?’ Her tone was less than friendly. ‘What are you doing here?’

Georges de Brizat got politely to his feet. ‘
Bonjour,
Solange. As you see, we have a guest for breakfast.’ He added mildly, ‘I hope you have no objection?’

‘Why, no. I mean—how could I?’ The girl gave a swift trill of laughter. ‘How absurd. It was just—a surprise to see Mademoiselle Colville again—so soon.’ She glanced around. ‘But where is Remy?’

‘Taking a shower,’ his grandfather returned. ‘May I pass on some message?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘You are quite sure? It must have been a matter of some urgency to bring you here at such an hour.’

The pretty mouth was sulky. ‘It is my mother,’ she said. ‘The trouble with her knee. She complains that she hardly slept last night. I hoped that Remy would call at the farm on his way to Ignac.’

‘I regret that will not be possible, as he will be driving Mademoiselle Alys to Les Sables before going to work.’ He added tranquilly, ‘But if you bring your mother to the medical centre later in the morning, he can examine her there.’

‘Since my father’s death, my mother rarely leaves the house.’

Monsieur de Brizat shrugged. ‘Then, instead, I will request my son to pay her a visit once he returns from the Richauds’.’ His tone was dry. ‘He used to attend
madame,
so he is well acquainted with the case.’

In spite of her embarrassment, Allie had to stifle a giggle. Game, set and match to Dr Georges, she thought.

Solange’s face was like a mask. She said stiffly, ‘That is—kind. I shall tell Maman to expect him.’

‘D’accord.’
He waited for a moment as she stood irresolute. ‘There was something else, perhaps?’

‘No, no.’ It was Solange’s turn to shrug. ‘At least—just a matter of some curtain fabric. But that can wait for another time. When Remy is not quite so—occupied.’ She looked at Allie, a faintly metallic note creeping into her voice. ‘
Au revoir, mademoiselle.
I am sure we shall meet again—soon.’

‘I look forward to it,’ Allie responded, without an atom of sincerity.

A thoughtful silence followed Solange’s departure.

Allie drew a breath. ‘I seem to be in the middle of some kind of situation here. Please believe I—I didn’t know.’

‘You are sure there is anything to know?’ Dr de Brizat sighed a little. ‘Like all the Gerans, Solange is industrious, ambitious, and single-minded. She has a mother who is a trial, and she does not intend to spend her entire life cleaning cottages for tourists.’ He paused. ‘But any plans she is making for the future are hers alone.’

His sudden smile was mischievous. ‘Let me assure you also,
ma petite,
that she has never been asked to breakfast.’

But that, thought Allie, reluctantly returning his smile, does not make me feel any better about all this.

Remy came striding in, tucking a grey and white striped shirt into charcoal pants, his dark hair still damp from the shower.

Allie was sharply aware of the scent of soap he brought with him, mixed with the faint fragrance of some musky aftershave, and was ashamed to feel her body clench in sheer longing.

He snatched car keys from a bowl on the huge built-in dresser that filled one wall, then reached for Allie’s hand, pulling her to her feet.
‘Viens, chérie.’

She managed to throw a hasty
au revoir
over her shoulder to his grandfather, and heard him reply, ‘
A bientôt,
Mademoiselle Alys.’ Which meant that he expected to see her again, she thought, as Remy whisked her into the Jeep and started the engine.

She said breathlessly, ‘Do you live your entire life at this speed?’

‘No.’ The smile he slanted at her was wicked. ‘There are times,
mon ange,
when I like to take things very slowly indeed. You would like me to demonstrate?’

‘Not,’ she said, struggling not to laugh, ‘in a moving Jeep,
monsieur, je t’en prie
.’

He gave an exaggerated sigh.
‘Eh, bien, chérie, tu as raison, peut-être.’

There was a brief silence, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet and infinitely serious, ‘But I am beginning to question, Alys, how long I can exist without you, and that is the truth.’

She felt a tide of heat sweep through her body, leaving behind it an ache beyond remedy. ‘Remy—this isn’t easy for me.’

‘And you think it is for me?’ His laugh was almost bitter. ‘That I expected to feel like this—to know how completely my life has changed in so short a time? That I even wished it, when a few days ago I was not even aware of your existence? No,
mon amour,
and no.’

The passion in his tone almost scared her, and Allie bent her head. She said half to herself, ‘Oh, God, I shouldn’t have come here…’

‘Do not say so.’ His voice hardened. ‘Do not ever say that,
mon coeur,
because without you I would be only half alive.’

He reached out a hand, resting it on her bare leg, just above the knee, and she covered it with both her own, feeling the reassurance of its warmth as they drove in silence back to Les Sables.

When they reached the house, Remy switched off the engine, then turned to her, drawing her into his arms. He looked down at her for a long moment, before taking her mouth with his, kissing her with a thoroughness and frank expertise that left her dizzied and gasping for breath, her hands clutching the front of his shirt as if it was her last hold on sanity.

‘Remy…’ His name was a croak.

‘I need the taste of you,
mon ange.
’ His own breathing was ragged. ‘To carry with me through the day.’ He detached one of the clinging hands and carried it to his lips. ‘I will see you tonight? You will have dinner with me?’

She nodded almost numbly, then got out of the Jeep, shading her eyes from the morning sun as she watched him drive away.