The French Aristocrat's Baby (15 page)

‘What can I say?’ The doctor shrugged, addressing his gesture of exasperation to Etienne.

‘Nothing. Don’t say a thing, Doctor. If Gwyneth is pregnant, then she and I will sort this out together, between us.’

His smooth reply sounded almost practised. The icy calm was certainly enough to freeze Gwen’s blood. Alerted to the possibility she might be carrying Etienne’s child, the doctor carried out the rest of his examination with that in mind. All the signs were there, he told them, but official confirmation would have to wait.

‘That’s fine. You have the number of my mobile. Ring the moment you know. I’ll deal with everything here,’ Etienne said, hustling the doctor out of the room.

A cold knot of dread tightened inside Gwen. She had a horrible suspicion she knew exactly what he meant.

She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor. Her hands were clasped so tightly together the knuckles
ached. She heard Etienne and the doctor muttering outside her window. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, and didn’t care. Her whole life had stuttered to a halt. From now on she would have to exist at second hand. All her time and energy would have to be devoted to the little life growing inside her. She could feel motherhood closing in on her like the walls of her room.

Several centuries later, she heard a car drive away. It was only one car, and it lacked the high-class purr of Etienne’s pulling machine. She waited, expecting him to leave too. Instead, she heard slow, heavy footsteps come up the stairs. He was coming back. She braced herself for a confrontation. It was only a matter of feet across the landing to her bedroom. Gwen did not move as she sensed Etienne reach her threshold. There was no point. He would have a face like thunder, and the smallest movement from her would unleash his fury. She tried to concentrate on the hum of bees, busy in the thyme flowers growing on the sun-drenched terrace. It was supposed to be a diversion. Instead it reminded her of the buzz of disapproval this news would provoke among all her relatives back home.

‘How do you feel?’

Gwen’s head jerked up before she could stop it. She had expected anger. Strained compassion was the last thing she anticipated. His expression was impassive. She knew he must have been fighting to keep his true feelings under control, exactly as she was.

‘Terrible. I’ve ruined everything,’ she muttered, dropping her gaze back to the rag rug.

She heard him take a step towards her. The room
wasn’t very big, but he was still as far away from her as it was possible to be while still sharing the same space. After a pause, he took another step, and then a third. Now the tips of his leather shoes intruded into her narrow field of vision. She waited. Eventually, a shadow moved and she felt his touch. It fell lightly against her shoulder. When she did not move, he dropped its full weight on her, stiff and unyielding. She couldn’t be sure if it was meant as a comforting gesture. His fingers felt like wood.
Like my heart
, she thought bleakly.

‘You aren’t entirely to blame, Gwen. It took two of us.’

It was an admission wrung from him like blood, she could tell.

‘I must have been mad when I agreed to stay with you. I’ve never done anything like that before. What was I thinking of?’ Her voice was an agonised whisper. The pressure of his hand released and then fell again in something that was supposed to be a reassuring pat. Gwen was beyond appreciating his efforts.

‘I’m always scrupulous about…’ the hand on her shoulder twitched with his discomfort ‘…precautions. I don’t understand how this can possibly have happened—’

He spoke slowly, but Gwen’s response was like quicksilver. ‘You aren’t trying to deny this baby is yours, are you? You can’t control everything—accidents happen, Etienne.’

Pulling away his hand, Etienne looked down on her with naked scorn.

‘You must believe it!’ she said frantically. ‘You said as much yourself, to the doctor!’

‘Of course I know it’s mine,’ he growled. ‘What do you think I am?’

‘I don’t know.’ Gwen subsided onto the bed again. ‘And I don’t know what I’m going to do, either.’

At her words he moved more quickly than he had done since entering her house. Sitting down beside her, he whipped out his mobile phone.

‘You don’t have to do a thing. Not a single, solitary thing. This is my responsibility, so I shall take care of everything.’

Gwen’s brain sprang to life. All the news reports she had seen about Angela Webbington rattled through her brain with the urgency of Etienne’s fingers on his keypad. With a scream of horror she leapt away from him.

He stopped and stared at her, dismayed at her reaction. ‘What is it? What have I done now?’

‘Nothing. You aren’t going to do anything to me!’

Gwen began to panic. Backing towards a corner, she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. She stared at him, wild and wide-eyed. Etienne watched her. His expression hardened from alarm to pity. As it did so, he went back to tapping out a number on his phone.

‘Oh, yes, I am,’ he announced sharply. ‘I’m going to marry you.’

G
WEN
was too amazed to speak. This was the last thing she had expected and she didn’t know what to think. There was a moment of relief—he was not threatening her baby—but then panic loomed again as Etienne continued.

‘I’m responsible for this situation. I must take the consequences, and pay my dues.’

He made it sound like a parking offence.

‘You can’t just announce it like that!’ She gasped. ‘Don’t I have any say in the matter?’

‘Why would you want anything different?’ He stared at her, mystified. ‘Our child will be the legitimate heir to the Moreau name. Some day it will inherit my title, and everything I’ve worked for on my own account. What could be better than that?’

‘But…’ his reasonable tone left her scrabbling for objections ‘…I’m a chef…and you’re a count!’

‘That will make you the perfect wife for me.’ Etienne’s voice was strained through centuries of breeding. ‘Your work at Le Rossignol has shown me how good you are in social situations, however difficult.
You have a decent enough business brain and grace under pressure. You will make the perfect countess,’ he said as if there were no question about it. He had spoken, and it would be her duty to obey.

‘Have you stopped to consider for one single second that I really might not want to marry you?’

‘What?’ Etienne stared at her. He looked genuinely surprised. ‘No. Of course I haven’t.’

Gwen nodded. She should have known. What sort of a relationship was this? They knew nothing about each other beyond the confines of business. She had served him with a coffee. He had given her a lift home. She had fallen into his arms. That was just about the extent of it. They had only one thing in common. It was the whirlwind excitement of one passionate night. An hour earlier, the thought of marrying Etienne would have been an impossible fantasy—something she had not dared admit to herself. Unconsciously, her hand strayed to her stomach, curving protectively. Now the fantasy had suddenly become a cold-hearted business deal.

‘What is the matter, Gwen? Why are you looking at me like that? You can’t honestly be about to refuse.’ His voice was gently mocking. ‘I’ve never known a woman who wouldn’t jump at the chance to become a countess.’

Gwen thought of his stepmother, the odious Sophie, and her poor, nervous niece.

‘Well, you know one now,’ she announced.

Etienne hit back with an equally solid response. ‘This isn’t about what either of us wants as individuals. This is about
my
heir,
your
pregnancy, and
our
baby. We
have to stop thinking about ourselves and put all our energy into preparing for the future.’

He sounded so aristocratic, so certain. ‘Our lifestyles are so different,’ she said faintly. ‘What about your future?’

‘My future is never in any doubt. Let me handle this, Gwen.’ He moved as though to put an arm around her shoulder. At the last moment, he hesitated and turned the movement into just a reassuring touch of his hand.

When it came to keeping Le Rossignol afloat, Etienne had been as good as his word. He had not interfered. Gwen wondered whether he would be content to throw money at parenthood in a similar way. She didn’t know whether he would back off or take compete control. With her mind in a whirl and no idea how she would set about raising a child, she didn’t know which would be worse. That alarmed her.

She searched his face, trying to see the emotions behind his dark eyes. It was so tempting to give in—simply to let him take control and sweep her away.

‘I don’t have a clue about babies, and there’s so much to do if we’re going to get married before I’m…’ Instinctively, she looked down at her waist. It was still neatly defined, but for how much longer?

‘That’s the great thing about being a member of the aristocracy. Contingency plans for all the major life events are permanently in place. They only need a few phone calls to set them in motion. And relax—I don’t know anything about babies either. I doubt if many first-time parents do. And we’ll have more than enough help.’

Gwen watched him tap numbers into his phone and start mobilising his staff. He was oblivious to everything
else, so she could observe him in detail. He was still the gloriously handsome, detached figure who had walked into her life on that fateful first evening. This cool pro-fessionalism had always been one of his attractions. He shared her need to be in control of every situation. With a surge of desire she saw he was determined to be a part of her baby’s future. Etienne barely noticed her interest in him. He was a man in a hurry. The moment he closed his call, he picked up her handbag and set off downstairs. ‘Come on. Let’s discuss this on neutral territory.’

‘Where are you going with my bag?’

‘We’re going for a drive. This is the bait to get you into my car.’ He dangled her bag from his fingers as he opened the passenger door of his Ferrari for her. Gwen came to a halt on her front doorstep.

‘Where are we going?’

He gave her a smile that was almost encouraging. ‘There’s no need to look so suspicious. I know a little bistro right out in the country. The owners are very discreet. We won’t be troubled and we can talk freely. There’s no risk of being overheard.’

‘I’m going to have a baby. What is there left to say?’ Gwen concentrated on the ground as she walked towards the car.

‘We’re going to be married; there are many things to discuss. And let’s get one thing straight from the beginning. You’re not having
a
baby. You are carrying my child. There is a difference. It means you aren’t alone.’

Everything had changed, yet some things were still the same. Etienne was looking at her in the same way he had done over the conference table on
The
Windflower.
He was perfectly composed and in control. And he was still as spectacular as ever. A treacherous suspicion of hunger stirred within her, sealing her fate.

‘OK. A discussion over lunch. I can handle that,’ she said, trying to gain some control over her dangerous emotions. It would not be a good time to let her feelings get the better of her. She was too confused to know what they were.

Etienne’s mouth tightened. ‘Yes. There are things I must talk to you about.’

‘In the same way you “talked” to Angela Webbington?’ Gwen queried, remembering the coverage she had seen of their stormy relationship. Her accusation did not have the effect she expected. Instead of exploding with rage or denial, Etienne simply nodded.

‘
Oui.
In exactly that way. Only this time, each of us is going to listen to what the other has to say, Gwen.’

She fell silent. Angela had vanished from his life. Gwen couldn’t help wondering if the same thing might happen to her, if she refused to toe his line. She thought of being responsible for a tiny new baby and never seeing Etienne again. Suddenly, a fierce wave of longing engulfed her. Marrying Etienne would give her child a safe, secure life and keep them both within his orbit.

‘So…if I marry you, it’s a guarantee that everything will be all right?’

Staring resolutely through the windscreen, he eased his car into gear and pulled away. Unusually the Ferrari moved off with dignity, rather than in a shower of gravel.

‘Not even I can promise that, Gwen. Nobody can predict what the future holds. But I can promise you one
thing. We are going to do this together. My child will be raised to take his place as the next count. He is owed the best of everything, and I intend to see that he gets it, whatever that takes. My responsibility for him began the moment I got you—’ he waved a hand in the general direction of her lap ‘—the moment all this happened. I would never abandon a woman to bring up a child of mine alone—least of all you. We’re partners in business. This is a joint effort, too.’ He glanced across at her with an encouraging smile.

‘Did you talk to your ex-fiancée in this deeply romantic way?’ Gwen sent the question spinning towards him like a guided missile. Etienne flicked it aside with a grimace.

‘You are not Angela, and you never will be,’ he said with such painful restraint Gwen wondered again what Angela had really been like to have had such an effect on this man. ‘Things are going to be very different this time.’

Gwen had been warning herself for weeks that it was a bad idea to bring her feelings into this business partnership. Now he would be increasing his influence over her personal, as well as her professional, life. If she agreed to marry him, she might soon be unable to afford the luxury of any emotions at all.

He drove on. His silence was as arid as the countryside flashing past the car. When they stopped, Etienne took his time in going around to open the door for her. She blinked in the harsh sunlight. They were in a little village square, sleepy with heat. Luckily, there were
few people around. No one would recognise her when she was this far out in the wilds, but that didn’t mean she wanted people to see her at a time of total turmoil.

The bistro’s proprietor rushed out, wreathed in smiles. He met them like visiting royalty. In spite of herself, Gwen’s heart fluttered a little to see Etienne greeted so kindly, and by his title. Then she thought back to the Internet coverage she had seen of his past. Etienne was famous for his vast number of female ‘friends’. He must have brought dozens of girls here in the past. How could marriage change a man like that?

They were led away from the public areas of the restaurant to a secluded table set beneath a bower of vines and creepers. Spectacular passion flowers studded the greenery, their pure white flowers pencilled with blue and yellow detail.

‘Gwen will drink fresh orange juice over ice, she’ll start with melon and strawberries, followed by the poached fish and salad. And make sure everything is well washed in Evian,’ Etienne announced to the waiter.

Gwen said nothing until they were alone together.

‘Don’t I get any choice in my food?’

‘Was there anything you particularly wanted?’

‘No, but—’

‘Then relax!’ He tried to smile. This time his efforts were slightly more successful. ‘I’ve simply saved you the task of choosing the healthiest options. My child will have only the best.’

Gwen heard nothing after that. She tried to listen, but it quickly became obvious Etienne’s mind was made up with regard to every detail regarding her, his child, his
heritage and his future. Etienne was laying out his big ideas as they applied to her baby, and life in general. Her function was to listen, and presumably nod in all the right places. Unable to think about the implications, she concentrated on her meal. Her earlier wave of sickness was a distant memory, and now she was ravenous. As it turned out, Etienne had made all the right choices for her. Her food was totally delicious.
Damn the man
, she thought mutinously.

‘And what do you have to say to all this, Gwen?’

Etienne’s question caught her completely off guard.

‘I—I don’t know. The only thing I know about motherhood is that I’m not cut out for it,’ she said hopelessly. ‘I’ve only just managed to escape one family. This taste of freedom after being suffocated for so long has been incredible. Le Rossignol is my life now. How can I sacrifice that, when I’ve worked so hard to get it? I’ve only had a few weeks to enjoy it. I’ve hardly begun to live. Now I’ll have to spend the rest of my life running around after…somebody else.’

Etienne did not answer, but his face darkened and he summoned the bill. ‘Let’s get home. The doctor should have your results by the time we get there.’

Gwen let him lead her back to the car. As he held the door open for her she saw a perfect illustration of what her future might hold. It was trailing across that pretty little village square.

‘Gwen—what is it?’ Etienne’s voice sharpened. Afraid she might be about to faint, he reached out and caught her by the shoulders. Pulling her towards him, he was ready with reassurances, but they died on his lips.
She wasn’t looking at him. She was staring over his shoulder. He raked the village square with a glare, but couldn’t be expected to see it in the same way she did. It was practically deserted. A few white doves pecked around the feet of some old men enjoying the afternoon in the shade of an ancient walnut tree. Meanwhile, a screaming toddler was being dragged across the cobblestones by a harassed young woman weighed down with shopping. She was struggling on alone, with no one to help her.

Gwen saw, and understood. She was alone and pregnant in a foreign country. But Etienne had helped her once before and, whatever had happened in his past, she did have complete faith in his ability to protect her and her baby. Who was she to jeopardise her child’s future simply through fear for her own heart?

‘It’s nothing. I’m fine,’ she reassured him with a wan smile. ‘I just caught a glimpse of what life might be like on my own, that’s all.’

‘I must get you back to the chateau,’ he said with concern. ‘You look exhausted. It’s been a hectic few weeks. You need rest—whatever the outcome of your tests.’

The doctor delivered her results in person. They were positive, as both Gwen and Etienne had known they would be.

‘I shall need a full report on my…
fiancée’s
—’ Etienne spoke the word with difficulty ‘—condition, and written lists of your recommendations for her care and diet,’ he began, then spent the next half an hour grilling
the doctor about what would happen, minute by minute. Locked inside her own thoughts, Gwen hardly heard a word he said.

‘I’m not up to this, Etienne,’ she said miserably. ‘I don’t know how to be a mother! And what about the restaurant? I need some time to get used to all this—’

‘Haven’t you been listening? You don’t need to do anything. From now on, I shall be taking care of absolutely everything for you.’

Gwen felt again the stirrings of unease. Her life was spinning entirely out of her control. Etienne’s words tailed off, his smile fading as he saw her expression.

As he sensed that she was wavering his voice became soothing, a velvet glove encasing cold, hard steel. ‘I keep telling you. This is a team effort. Between us, we’re going to give our baby the best of everything.’ When she did not answer, he continued, in an appeasing tone, ‘You’ve often said how traditional your family are. I could ask your father’s permission to marry you, if you like.’