‘Frail. Twice, we thought we’d lost her.’
‘Do you think she’ll want to see me?’
Luc’s features hardened. ‘That, I have no idea. You should have called ahead, Gabrielle. You really should have.’
Gabrielle’s apprehension grew claws as they entered the chateau through the western door. Josien Alexander had always been a mystery to her children. Never loving, constantly critical. Gabrielle had spent most of her childhood trying to please a mother who could not be pleased. Gabrielle’s overriding instinct was still to please her, even after seven years of barely any contact with her mother at all. What if Josien didn’t want to see her? What if she hadn’t been calling for her children at all? What then?
The nurse who met them in the sitting room of the suite was a grizzle-faced man in his mid fifties whom Luc introduced as Hans. Hans had a firm handshake, a steady gaze, and a warm smile for Gabrielle.
‘Stubbornest patient I’ve ever had,’ he said. ‘She’s just taken her medication so you’ve about five minutes before she begins to get drowsy. Not that she won’t fight the sleep. She always does.’ Hans gestured towards yet another closed door. ‘She’s in there.’
‘Thank you.’ Gabrielle’s nerves were at breaking point and her body felt weary beyond belief, courtesy of the twenty-three-hour flight from Sydney, but this was the path she’d chosen to follow and follow it she would, no matter what Rafe thought, or Luc thought, or anyone thought. Gabrielle had come to see her mother.
Some mistakes were unavoidable.
‘Would you like me to accompany you?’ asked Luc quietly.
‘No.’ Luc’s offer of support scraped at her, shamed her. Some humiliations were best kept private. Then again, maybe this meeting would go more smoothly with a third party present. With Luc present, Gabrielle amended with brutal honesty, so that Josien could see that, as far as Luc was concerned, the mistakes of the past had been paid for. And they had been paid for, hadn’t they? Surely they’d been paid for? ‘Yes.’
Luc’s lips curved ever so slightly. ‘Which is it?’
Gabrielle’s gaze met his and skittered away. ‘Yes.’
‘Four minutes,’ said Hans dryly.
‘Thanks.’ Steeling herself, Gabrielle reached for the handle to yet another closed door and headed inside. It was warmer in here. Darker too, for the afternoon light had to pry its way through two layers of gauze curtain material before finding entry. A large four poster bed dominated the space so that the figure tucked beneath the fluffy white bedcovers looked tiny in comparison. Seven years ago, Josien Alexander’s hair had been as black as a raven’s wing and had fallen almost to her waist. Now it was streaked with silver and cut to sit just beneath her chin but she was still the most beautiful woman Gabrielle had ever seen. Josien’s eyes—those startling violet blue eyes that had always watched and judged but never smiled—were closed, and Gabrielle was grateful for the reprieve. She needed that moment to bind her emotions tight.
‘Josien,’ said Luc gently. ‘Pardonnez-moi for the lateness of the hour but you have a visitor.’
Josien turned her head and slowly, slowly, she opened her eyes, focussing first on Luc, and then on Gabrielle standing awkwardly beside him. With a swiftly indrawn breath, Josien closed her eyes and turned away.
Gabrielle felt the sting of bitter tears welling in her own eyes but she blinked them away, and made herself speak even though her words would come out ragged and choked. ‘Hello, Maman.’
‘You shouldn’t have come.’ Josien kept her face averted.
‘So people keep telling me.’ Luc’s face, when Gabrielle glanced his way, was as hard and unyielding as the stones from which the chateau had been built. ‘I hear you’ve been unwell.’
‘Ce ne’est rien,’ said Josien. ‘It’s nothing.’
It didn’t look like nothing. Luc had been right. Her mother looked frail. ‘I brought you a gift.’ Gabrielle reached into her bag for the album of photos she’d put together so painstakingly. Rafe would kill her if he knew how many photos of him she’d included in the mix, but he didn’t know and she wasn’t about to tell him. ‘I thought you might like to know what Rafe and I have been doing these past seven years. We bought a broken vineyard, Maman, and brought it back to life. We’ve done so well. Rafe’s a brilliant businessman. You should be proud of him.’
Josien said nothing and Gabrielle felt her lips tighten. So what if Rafael had eventually gone as far away from Josien and this place as he could get? That was what people did when raised on a diet of scathing criticism interspersed with icy indifference. Rafe had never deserved any of the treatment Josien had dealt him. He really hadn’t. ‘I’ll leave it here on the end of the bed in case you want to look at it some time.’
‘Take it and go.’
Yeah, well. That was what you got when you believed in tooth fairies, happily ever after, and mothers who actually cared. ‘I’ve taken a room in the village, Maman. I’ll be in the area these next few weeks. I know you’re tired right now but maybe when you’re feeling better you could give me a call. Here.’ She fished a business card from her handbag. ‘I’ll leave you my number.’ Gabrielle’s words were met with more silence. Gabrielle bit her lip—praying for one pain to subdue another, but Josien’s rejection had cut too deep. She should never have come here. She should have listened to Rafe and to Luc instead of listening to her heart. ‘So…’ Gabrielle felt the world sway, and then Luc’s hand was beneath her elbow, fragile purchase against the darkness threatening to engulf her.
‘Jet lag,’ murmured Luc. It wasn’t jet lag causing her to sway and they both knew it, but he afforded her the courtesy of an excuse for her body’s reaction and Gabrielle seized it.
‘Yes. It’s been a long day.’
‘Wait for me outside,’ he said as he gently shepherded her towards the door. ‘It’s about to get longer.’
Luc waited until the door clicked closed behind Gabrielle before turning to the woman in the bed. Josien Alexander was an enchantingly beautiful woman and always had been. Coolly unfathomable, she ran the housekeeping staff at the chateau with an iron fist and no second chances. She’d raised her children the same way. Luc had bowed to Josien’s will all those years ago because he’d seen the sense in sending Gabrielle away, but he saw no sense in Josien’s actions now. All he saw was pain.
Josien’s eyes were still closed as Luc strode back towards the bed but he didn’t need her eyes, only her ears. ‘My father told me of our duty to you before he died,’ he said grimly. ‘I’ve done my utmost to honour it. I’ve tried my damnedest to make allowances for your behaviour, Josien, but, so help me, if you don’t make time for your daughter while she’s here you can pack your bags and leave this place the minute your health allows it. Do you hear me, Josien?’
Josien nodded, tears tracking noiselessly down her cheeks, and Luc struggled to contain his frustration and his fury. ‘You’ve never been able to see it, have you? No matter how badly you wound them or how hard you try to push them away…you just don’t get it.’ He looked at the photo album and his roiling emotions coalesced into a tight ball of anger directed squarely at the woman in the bed, no matter how fragile or beautiful she was. ‘You’ve never been able to see how much your children love you.’
Luc caught up with Gabrielle halfway along the hallway. He needed a drink. The thorn he’d never quite managed to extricate from his side looked as if she needed one too. ‘In here,’ he told her, and ushered her into the library that doubled on occasion as his formal office space, usually when he entertained clients and wanted to impress. ‘Where are you staying?’ he asked as he headed for the bar, reached for the brandy and poured generously.
‘In the village,’ she replied, careful