скачать книгу бесплатно
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.
CHAPTER SIX
ALLIE 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.’
