“TRACEY? I think I’ve found the wallpaper for you. Come in the living room and look at this.”
“We’ll be there in a minute, Aunt Rose. Won’t we, my little sweetheart?” Tracey kissed Jules’s tummy until he was convulsed with laughter. First came the baby powder, then a clean diaper and a fresh change of T-shirt and overalls.
Finally all three babies were ready for their father to pick up for the weekend. Since that disastrous night three weeks ago when the priest had confirmed Tracey’s worst fears, she’d been living in a sort of limbo, with Julien dropping off the children on his way to work and picking them up at the end of the day.
They’d decided to trade off the babies every weekend. This time it was her turn to let the children go. She dreaded it, dreaded the loneliness of her third-floor apartment when the children weren’t there. Getting through Friday evening to Monday morning without her darlings was turning out to be the major achievement of her existence.
Rose knew how difficult this time had been for Tracey and had agreed to come over and spend the night to keep her company. She was the one who had suggested that some redecorating would help Tracey feel more at home in the gracious threebedroom apartment Julien had found for her.
Only three minutes from the château, the security and privacy were rivaled only by the charm of the rooms facing the lake. Tracey didn’t care that they needed refurbishing, but recognized that Rose wanted to feel useful.
So far there’d been no word about the results of the DNA tests done on the five of them. The doctor said it might be another couple of weeks before they heard anything. Tracey tried not to think about it since they’d only confirm what she already knew.
No matter how devastating this time had been for them, she was thankful Julien hadn’t fought the separation. At least a routine of sorts had been established. Soon the children would come to view both the apartment and the château as home.
Neither she nor Julien wanted anyone on either side of the family to know the real reason they’d separated, not even Rose. There’d been enough pain to last a lifetime. One careless word could harm their children someday, something they’d fight to avoid.
By tacit agreement, they kept their conversation limited to talk of the babies. They never discussed how he spent the hours away from her, or what she did to pass the time when her day wasn’t full of feedings and baths.
Out of a sense of self-preservation, she never looked into her husband’s eyes. To any passerby, she and Julien probably appeared to be old acquaintances who were civil and polite to each other, nothing more.
It killed Tracey to see the new remoteness in Julien these days. He’d grown a hard veneer that changed him into an emotionless replica of his former self. Only when he responded to the children did she detect traces of the vital man she loved with her whole soul.
She didn’t even want to think what their lives would be like if they didn’t have their precious babies who were fast growing into little people with minds and personalities all their own.
Julien was probably on his way over right now, anxious to cuddle Valentine and play with the boys. Tracey yearned to get right into the thick of it with them. Every time she found herself daydreaming, she chastised herself for losing control and tried to concentrate on something else. But it was a futile exercise when she was so madly in love with him.
“Who was on the phone?” she asked her aunt as she walked into the living room carrying Jules. She’d heard it ring but knew Rose would answer it.
“Julien. He’s going to be late.”
Tracey bit her lip as a dichotomy of emotions attacked her. Though relieved because she’d have the children a little longer, she lived for his visits, no matter how brief.
“Did he say why?”
“A business dinner, I believe.”
“At the house?”
“No. The Château D’Ouchy.”
“I see.” Tracey tried to keep her voice level, but failed miserably and her aunt knew it. When Julien left the house for the evening, that meant there would be women as well as men in his dining party.
Tracey had never thought of herself as a jealous person, but that was before Julien had become forbidden to her. From here on out he was fair game to any female in sight. One too many times a beautiful woman would make a play for him on an
evening not unlike this, and he’d respond….
Just the thought of it ripped Tracey’s heart out.
“Dear?” Rose called to her in a worried voice. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Of course,” Tracey hastened to assure her aunt. “I was thinking that the babies’ sweaters are too hot. I’ll take them off until he comes.”
After relieving the other two of their outer garments, she put all three tots together in the playpen, then crawled around on the floor playing peekaboo with them through the mesh.
One by one, the children laughed belly laughs that were so contagious, Rose had to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Oh, Tracey. You’re a natural mother. They absolutely adore you.”
“I hope so, because they’re my whole life.”
Rose’s expression sobered. “Why can’t you include Julien in that statement?”
One mention of her husband and the happiness Tracey had been feeling as she cavorted with her children shriveled up.
“We’ve been over that ground before, Rose. Why don’t we change the subject? Have you heard from Iz?”
“Not since you have. Julien suggested they consult a good financial adviser and I think she’s talked Bruce into it. It’s a start in the right direction. Maybe the day will come when she’ll begin to concentrate on being the kind of mother you are.”
“I thought she handled Alex extremely well for being four months pregnant,” Tracey defended.
“But it doesn’t come naturally to her. She needs to watch you.”
Tracey frowned. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Perfectly. She treats him like an expensive toy that has to be handled carefully. She picks him up and puts him down, but she doesn’t get into a mad scramble with him as we used to say when I was a young woman. She doesn’t get physical with him the way you do with your children. Your father used to play with you like that. That’s probably where you learned it.”
“Daddy?”
Rose blinked. “Of course. The first thing he’d do when he came home from work was make a beeline for you. You’d both get down on the floor and play hard until your mother called him to dinner.”
“What about Iz?”
“I’m afraid she was your mother’s girl.”
Tracey shook her head. “That’s terrible. There should never be a mommy’s girl and a daddy’s girl. Each child should feel loved in the same way.”
“You see, darling? You have a true mother’s instincts, but some parents aren’t blessed in the same way.” A shadow of pain crossed her aunt’s face, one that haunted Tracey. “And sometimes, circumstances change the nature of things.”
There was such sadness in Rose’s remark, Tracey felt her aunt was trying to tell her something. She broke out in a cold sweat.
Did Rose knew the truth?
Tracey stared at her aunt. “You’re not talking in generalities, are you?”
“No. I’m talking about your parents because they’re not here to defend themselves and I’m afraid my reminiscing about the past has given you some wrong impressions.”
“You mean about my parents showing their preferences for me and Iz?”
“Exactly.”
Tracey’s heart bled to think of the man she’d always thought of as her father trying so hard to love another man’s child. Without stopping to think, Tracey blurted, “I already know the reason why, Aunt Rose.”
The older woman let out a quiet gasp but Tracey heard her.
“How long have you known?” she asked in a shocked voice.
“A year.”
“Who told you?”
“But he said he wasn’t going to tell you until you were married and had a child of your own.”
“That’s exactly what he did do, except that neither he, nor I, knew that I was pregnant at the time.”
“Tracey—you’re not making sense. Your parents were killed in that plane crash long before you married Julien.”
Totally confused, Tracey said, “Now you’re the one not making sense since we both know Henri Chappelle is my biological father.”
“Oh, no, Tracey. No!” Rose cried and leaped to her feet in agitation. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
Tracey started to shake and couldn’t stop. “I went in to see Henri for a few minutes on the day he died. H-he told me about his affair with mother, how they decided that she and Daddy would raise the baby so no one would ever know the truth. He begged me not to tell Julien because it would hurt him. Then he wept and reached for my hand, murmuring that he loved me like a daughter. I thought I heard him say something about forgiving him, but his words became garbled. I was in a state of shock when I left the room.”
“Oh, no,” Rose whispered, shaking her head. “You thought that baby was you! That’s why you ran away, why you fought so hard to end your marriage. Oh, my dearest girl. Don’t you know he was talking about Isabelle?”
Tracey felt the blood drain out of her face. “Isabelle?”
“Yes, Tracey. Yes. Isabelle is Henri’s daughter, not you. If you’ll think about it, she has Henri’s eyes and bone structure. I’m surprised you never noticed. Your sister was conceived during a time when your parents were estranged.”
“What?” Tracey was too staggered to respond.
“Soon after their marriage, your mother suffered a miscarriage. Your father was so upset by her depression, he didn’t want to try for another baby in case history repeated itself. She interpreted it that he didn’t love her anymore.
“On one of their trips to Lausanne, she got too close to Henri because he and Celeste were having problems. Her arthritis unintentionally caused her to shut him out, making him vulnerable. Your mother told me they were only together one time, but Isabelle was the result.”
“This is all so unbelievable,” Tracey cried out, aghast.
“It was very sad. Your mother confessed everything to your father and he forgave her because he knew he hadn’t been attentive to her when she needed him. But he insisted on raising Isabelle as his own daughter to prevent a scandal. He agreed they should tell her one day after she married. And though he tried, he could never love her the way he loved you.”
“Did Celeste know?”
“Yes, and guilt made her feel partly responsible.”
“How horrible for everyone.”
“Yes,” Rose murmured pensively. “After that, your father unconsciously lavished most of his attention on you. To compensate, your mother doted on Isabelle. But when Jacques made your life so miserable, your father’s bitterness flared up and he put an end to the family trips, with the exception that he allowed Isabelle to visit Angelique for a few weeks each year out of compassion for Henri.”
“So Daddy was the reason…. It’s all making
sense. Does Isabelle know the truth now?”
“No. Not yet. One day I’ll tell her when the time is right.”
“Then I don’t understand why Henri said those things to me.”
“He assumed your parents had already told you about Isabelle. Henri was asking for your forgiveness because he was aware of your love for Julien and knew it had broken your heart to be parted from him. He was afraid you blamed him for the separation.”
I did, her heart moaned with remembered pain.
“Oh, Aunt Rose…” Tracey’s whole body trembled. “What you’ve just told me has made me the happiest woman on earth. Julien and I aren’t related!” she shouted for joy, bringing the children’s heads around.
Her beloved little offsprings stared at her as if she was a complete oddity, making her want to laugh and cry all at the same time.
Their perfect children. Hers and Julien’s. Able to grow up with the expectation of normal lives.
Rose grinned. “Oh, yes, you are related, but only by your own marriage, which your husband refused to give up on. Of that, I am living proof! Honestly, Tracey, I never saw a man so in love with a woman in my life.”
Tracey’s euphoria made her feel she was going to burst. “I—I’ve got to go to him! I’ve got to find him right now! I’ve got to tell him! Aunt Rose-”
“I’m planning on tending the babies through the weekend,” she said, anticipating her niece’s request with the greatest of joy. “Put on that beautiful violet dress he bought to complement your lovely hair. But don’t keep him waiting too long! After the agony he has suffered, another minute would be too cruel.
“Oh, Tracey dear, how I’d love to see the look in his eyes when you join him at dinner and release him from that terrible prison….”
Tracey was living for that moment herself.
The next hour flew by. While Rose called the Château D’Ouchy to ascertain that Julien was still there with his dinner guests, Tracey showered and washed her hair in record time.
Fastening her amethyst-jeweled earrings, she slipped into high heels with matching jewels on the straps, then pronounced herself ready to meet her husband. After a kiss to her babies’ rounded cheeks and a huge hug to her aunt, Tracey dashed down to the waiting taxi Rose had called for her.
She was so excited and jittery she couldn’t have driven a car and was thankful to be chauffeured to the elegant château-hotel located in the lakeside suburb of Ouchy.
Judging by her hot cheeks, Tracey knew she was glowing when she entered the hotel and asked directions for the Chappelle party. The maître d’hotel couldn’t help but hear her heart thudding out of control.
Unaware of heads turning, she wound her way through the main floor dining area, her gilt hair falling from a side part as it swayed freely about her shoulders.
She felt seventeen again and hopelessly, painfully in love with the handsome man she spied seated at the head table in the private dining room.
Julien looked marvelous in anything he wore, but never more spectacular than when he was turned out in full dress tux. Tonight the black of his jacket accented his olive complexion and emphasized his striking male features in a way that made her breath catch.
Even at the tender age of seventeen, the chemistry between them had been potent. Six years later and Tracey was still reacting the same way. She always would.
For a brief moment, she hung back to savor her joy. After twelve months of pain, she could drink her fill of her husband without any accompanying guilt. The freedom to love him completely was a gift beyond comprehension.
He hadn’t seen her yet. Paul Loti, the comptroller of Chappelle House, held Julien’s attention with something of vital import. Their two heads were bent together in concentration, one carrot red, the other a familiar black. Almost jumping out of her skin with anticipation, Tracey advanced toward her husband.
Suddenly the room grew quiet. One by one Julien’s employees and their spouses recognized her and stopped talking to smile at her and nod a welcoming greeting. On some level, Julien must have detected a change in the room’s ambience because his head lifted abruptly and swerved around.
The second his intelligent eyes caught sight of her chiffon-clad figure, the way the material swished around her long, slender legs, he leaped to his feet and started toward her.
Paul had the foresight to catch his chair, which would surely have crashed to the parquetry flooring, but her husband never noticed.
A mixture of emotions played across his unforgettable face, robbing his complexion of color. As he drew closer, she saw shock, because never once since she’d come out of her coma had she sought him out, or initiated a visit to his office.
Only a few feet away now, she divined fear. After everything she’d done to make certain they stayed apart, he had to assume that her unprecedented appearance at his company dinner meant something must be seriously wrong with one of the children, or perhaps all of them.
Yet underlying his surprise and anxiety was a look of incredulity. She knew he was seeing the old Tracey. His bride. The starry-eyed lover of those warm Tahitian nights who’d given him her body, her heart, her soul…
“Tracey…”
There was a tentativeness in his low, husky voice as he whispered her name. For the first time since she’d known him, he sounded unsure of himself. The fear that this might be some fantastic dream from which he would awaken more desolate than before, seemed to rob him of the decisiveness she’d always associated with his character. For Julien to be uncertain of anything was a revelation to her.
With a compulsion too strong to be denied, she reached for him.
In that one act, she conveyed something more powerful than words. She conjured up the magic that unlocked the door of his prison.
When he intercepted her hand midair and clung to it, Tracey knew he’d divined the truth. Explanations could come later.
Like a miracle, his taut body relaxed. She felt him let go of the anger and pain, felt him shed the layers of unbridled grief as if they’d never been.
A brilliant smile illuminated her countenance, turning her eyes into orbs of green fire. They stared into the stunning blackness of his with pure, unadulterated joy, savoring the glory of this moment, the promise of future glories.
Then, with the confidence born of a woman who knew she was loved, who knew that she and she alone had the right and privilege to claim this one perfect man for her own, she turned to face their captive audience.
“Chers amis—” her voice caught a little “—please forgive the interruption, but I have something of vital importance to discuss with my husband in private.
“B-because of me, he’s been under a tremendous strain this past year. Through it all, I’m well aware of how supportive and patient you’ve been. Thank you for helping Julien handle an impossible situation.
“As my repayment, I’ll make you a promise that from here on out, everything is going to be different. If you’ll give us a few days to enjoy a second honeymoon, I’ll send him back a new man.”
At first there was complete silence. Then Paul started to clap. He was followed by the people at the head table. Soon everyone in the room was standing and applauding.
“Make that a few weeks,” Julien amended wickedly before pulling a flushed Tracey toward the exit. To the delight of his staff, she almost had to run to keep up with him. No one could be in any doubt that the head of Chappelle House had other thoughts on his mind than business.
Tracey assumed Julien was headed for the exit to the parking lot. She didn’t understand when he stopped at the front desk with his arm clamped around her waist. “We would like a room, please. Preferably the bridal suite.”
The correct-looking concierge flashed them a subtle smile. “Certainement, Monsieur Chappelle. With our compliments.”
Tracey hid her face in her husband’s broad shoulder. “The château is only a few minutes away. There’s no nee—”
“There’s every need,” he contradicted her, brushing his lips against the adorable rosebud mouth lifted to him with unknowing provocation. “You’ve put me in such a condition, I’m not capable of moving a meter, let alone the distance to the car. Tu comprends, mon amour?”
The concierge must have heard Julien because when he handed him the key, he murmured, “Your elevator is the one you can see on your right. Do you require assistance?”
“Only my wife’s.” He chuckled. With his arm still hugging her against him, they crossed the lobby to their own private elevator, one of the best features of the hotel. The second the door closed, he cupped her face in his hands, pressing kisses to her hair, eyes, nose, cheeks and throat. “I feel like I’m dreaming. Tell me, mignonne,” he said, his voice shaking, “did the doctor call with the results of the DNA tests?”
“No,” she whispered, chasing his lips until she found them. “I was given something much better. My source is infallible.”
He sucked in his breath. “Does that mean Monseigneur Louvel broke his silence?”
“No, darling. Aunt Rose. She verified that your father and my mother had an affair. But it’s Isabelle who’s your half sister.”
“Isabelle?” he said her name as the doors opened. He seemed to stagger for a moment. Tracey clung to him, offering him her strength.
“Yes, darling. Now that I know the truth, I understand even better why you’ve always been able to reach Iz when no one else could.”
Julien shook his head, dazed. Slowly they entered the living room. He sank into the nearest couch, pulling Tracey onto his lap. They wrapped their arms around each other in that old, familiar way with Julien burying his face in her hair.
It was like coming home after being lost for years and years in a dark wilderness.
His deep voice murmured, “Monseigneur Louvel warned us there could be another explanation.”
“Yes.” Tears filled her eyes. “You were right. In his own way, he tried to give us hope.”
Julien pulled her closer. “Tell me everything, mon amour. Don’t leave anything out.”
Tracey didn’t need her husband’s prompting. The desire to share their parents’ secret had her pouring out one revelation after another. For an emotionpacked half hour, she supplied him with the sad facts surrounding Isabelle’s conception.
“When I think how hard I’ve been on Jacques…” Julien whispered in a tormented voice.
“No more than I on your father. Before Aunt Rose said anything, I always had this feeling he didn’t like me. I was so hurt when he allowed Isabelle to go back to Lausanne for visits.”
Julien’s hands twisted convulsively in her hair. “Neither of us realized your father was the one responsible. He always seemed to distance himself from me. That was why I never allowed my relationship with you to get physical.”
Tracey shot straight up. “You mean Daddy was the reason you never kissed me?”
“That’s right, petite. I meant to marry you and refused to do anything to jeopardize my plans. When he questioned my motives in picking you up from school every day and taking you to my office, I told him I had appointed myself your guardian against Jacques, which was true. Just not the whole truth. I gave him my word that he could trust me to treat you like a cherished sister.”
“Julien…” She hid her face.
“You should be blushing,” he teased softly. “Never has any man had to withstand more temptation than I.”
“Oh, darling—” Tracey burrowed closer “—when I think how I threw myself at you.”
“You did.” He kissed her neck. “You were shameless and I adored you. And as long as your love kept growing, as long as those incredible green eyes kept making me feel immortal, I vowed I could be patient long enough for your father to accept me as a son-in-law. Unfortunately, he died before I could talk to him, but now that I know the truth, I doubt he would have given me his blessing.”
“Yes, he would have,” Tracey returned fervently. “He was very much aware you were—are my raison d’être. He knew what a wonderful man you were or he would never have entrusted me to your care. Daddy and I were very close. I know he wouldn’t have stood in the way of my happiness.”
Julien embraced her more fully. “Perhaps not, but I would always have been a reminder of his pain. Father betrayed your father’s trust in a way that no man could forgive. I suppose he paid the price for that moment of weakness all the days of his life.”
“I’m sure Mother did, too. But it’s over now.”
“Not quite. Isabelle has to be told.”
“Aunt Rose wants to tell her when the time is right. I think she should be the one. She and Mother were extremely close. She’ll be able to explain things in a way that Iz will understand and accept.” Tracey outlined his mouth with her finger. “When she learns that you’re her half brother, she’ll love you more than ever. You were always her favorite person, too.”
Julien grasped her hand and kissed the palm. “After we go back to the château, I’ll phone Jacques in Brussels and ask him to come home. We’ll invite Angelique over and break the news to them together. It’s time we were a family again.”
“I want that more than anything. The pain we’ve all had to endure because of our parents’ affair should have been buried with them. Thank heaven the truth is out at last.”
“Thank heaven you lived through that accident,” Julien cried in a shaken voice. “Mon Dieu, when I think how close I came to losing you…”
Tracey kissed the tears from his cheeks. “There was no chance of that. Not with you watching over me and our babies. I’m the most blessed woman alive, Julien Chappelle,” she spoke the words against his mouth. “Thank you for never giving up. Thank you for being the kind of man you are, for being father and mother to the children during such a traumatic period in our lives.
“Now it’s my turn to take care of you. For the rest of the time granted to us, I’m planning to spend every minute, every second showing you exactly what you mean to me. I love you so much I can’t contain it any longer.
“Julien,” she cried in an anxious voice, “do you think a person could die from feeling too much love?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” came his impassioned response as he carried her into the bedroom. “At least if we go up in flames, it will be together, mon amour. One thing I can promise you. Wherever our love takes us, we’ve only just begun.”