The Gift of Loving

by Wilson, Patricia

  'The countess pointed out, monsieur, that as we have huge gardens and several gardeners it seemed to be rather wasteful to have flowers delivered from Paris to arrive sometimes jaded and sometimes not at all. Two of the maids would like to learn how to do them if the countess would teach. The larger arrangements she would probably like to do herself; they are not easy as you can see from the centre piece on the table. That alone took an hour and complements the silver ideally.'

  'We will discuss it,' Guy said, still looking shocked. 'Goodnight,

  madame.'

  She almost bowed away and Lucy made for the stairs. She did not want Guy telling her that she should remember she was his wife and not some kitchen maid or florist. When he called to her she ignored him and ran quickly up to her room, closing the door and beginning to pull at the zip of her dress, tears blurring her eyes.

  Guy was not easily dismissed. He simply walked in and spun her round as she refused to face him.

  'I have hurt you.' He didn't miss the tears.

  'You haven't. I'm quite used to being snapped at. Hurt me as much as you like.'

  'Dieu! Don't say that!' He pulled her into his arms, tilting her face to his when she struggled, holding her still and looking at her tear-filled eyes. 'Poor little Lucy. I snarled at you because of your hands and all the time the cuts were there because you had to rescue the event from other people's inefficiency.'

  'You didn't know. You just assumed, as usual,' Lucy said bitterly.

  'How would you know that things go wrong? You're never here.'

  'It is because I -' He stopped abruptly and then pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. 'There are many things you do not know, Lucinda, so many things.'

  'You mean I'm ignorant?' she snapped, desperate that he should not see how much she needed to be held close.

  'I mean no such thing,' he countered sharply, his dark head raised as he looked down at her. His face suddenly softened as he saw her hands on his chest, limply holding him off. 'Your beautiful hands.

  They are scratched and torn. If you are to take over the flower arrangements, then you must have gloves. You want to do it?'

  'Yes.' She looked up at him breathlessly. She had expected him to order her to keep out of domestic arrangements. 'I love doing it and I could teach the maids. We could have the gardeners grow flowers especially for the house.'

  'They did, in my mother's days,' he said, suddenly sombre. He brightened almost at once, though. 'They will be pleased, and clearly your skills will be talked of for some time. You appear to have captured the heart of Madame Gatien, your cobra.'

  He was laughing down at her and Lucy blushed brightly.

  'That was unkind. I shouldn't have said it.'

  'You are never unkind,' he murmured. 'You have a sharp little tongue but it is only used for self-defence. I have noticed that.'

  He looked down into her face and she felt waves of feeling begin to cloud her mind as his eyes stayed on her soft trembling mouth.

  'Why do I find you so kissable?' he muttered, almost to himself, as his lips closed over her own.

  She felt the zip of her dress propelled downwards, the cool air on her skin, and he ignored her murmured protests as he slid the dress away and lifted her into his arms.

  'There's no need now,' she began, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  'We're back to normal, not on honeymoon. I'm just working for you now, Guy!'

  'Shut up!' His face tightened, paling almost to match her own and he crushed her against him, carrying her to the bed, his face against her hair. 'I don't need an excuse to make love to you. I am your husband and you are my wife!' He put her down and leaned over her before joining her, a deep groan leaving his throat as his arms wrapped around her, his body over hers. 'I want you, Lucinda,' he confessed huskily. 'Bewitch me again. Enchant me!'

  She was incapable of resisting him and his gasp of pleasure as she moved against him told her one thing at least. He might not love her, he might still love Michelle, but he wanted her fiercely and this time there was no drawing back. He did not leave her room all night, his hunger for her insatiable until she fell into a deep dark sleep, her skin burning from his kisses, her body sweetly pained.

  Next morning he was gone and Lucy lay still, looking at the sunlight as it streamed in at the windows. She felt strange, unreal, as if she were floating. It was an effort to get out of bed and then an even greater effort as she had to make for the bathroom very fast indeed, nausea gripping her blindingly. She stared at herself later in the long mirror as she leaned against the cool tiles.

  She was pregnant. Deep inside she had known it for some time but now she was sure. Her feelings ranged between joy and misery. She was having Guy's child and she knew she could not bear to think of any other woman carrying his children. It would soon be over though. She would look after it until it was old enough to be handed to a nurse and then she would never see Guy again. The thought gave her such a pain that she held her hand to her stomach, sickness rocking her all over again. She couldn't face it! She would steal the baby, beg to be allowed to stay! She sobbed bitterly, making herself feel worse.

  Madame Gatien knocked and came in as she was just coming back into her bedroom and Lucy was stunned to see that she had a tray, breakfast arranged on it. It was the first time ever that anyone had brought breakfast to her in her room and she had never imagined that the occasion would bring Madame Gatien herself.

  'You are ill, madame?' She stopped as she was about to walk to the door, her eyes on Lucy's pale face. She seemed quite concerned and Lucy managed a smile of sorts.

  'I'm all right, thank you. I'll be right down when I've eaten.'

  Madame Gatien nodded but she looked thoughtful and left rather slowly as Lucy got on with her breakfast. She could have done without it. She still felt sick and she was determined to keep it from Guy as long as she could. Perhaps she would be able to escape and he would never know, never be able to take the baby from her. Then

  she would have part of him forever. She shook her head blindly. It was all so much fantasy. This child she held inside her was the future Comte de Chauvrais. She had no right to deprive it of this inheritance.

  She wondered where Guy was now. Her face flushed as she thought of last night and shafts of pain seemed to slide right through her. He had not seemed to be able to get enough of her. She had never thought he would be like this. The cold-blooded marriage she had expected had not come to pass. If only he loved her. It was only when she was in his arms that he was in any way normal.

  Even last night had started with a quarrel because he chose to think the worst of her. All the same, she wanted to see him, to hear his voice.

  'Do you know where the count is?' she asked shyly, as she saw the housekeeper when she went downstairs.

  'He went out, madame. I believe he had a call from Madame Colliot.'

  It took all the joy out of Lucy's face. Michelle! So he was seeing her. Then how could he make love as he had done last night? How could he whisper that she entranced him, that he could not stop kissing her? Her mind went blank with misery, her heart heavy.

  She went out into the garden, a gentle smile on her face as she encountered Andre, the son of one of the gardeners. Andre was small, dark and inquisitive, a little boy of seven, and he had taken to following Lucy around like a happy puppy. He talked endlessly in his mixture of French and peculiar English and Lucy listened with amused interest as he talked about his father very proudly, about his school and his holidays. Every time she moved, he followed her

  until her sadness left her and she settled down beside him on the grass.

  She was there when Guy came and she looked up as she saw him coming across the grass. His face was set and unsmiling and Andre sprang up, brushing down his clothes quickly, giving a comical little bow.

  'Monsieur le Comte,' he said with amusing gravity.

  'Andre.' Guy returned the bow gravely, his sombre eyes suddenly smiling. 'I am happy to see you.'


  'Merci. I am caring for your lady.' The little face was a study of propriety and Lucy was fascinated by the small scene.

  'You have my thanks. I will take her indoors,' Guy said seriously and Andre nodded his understanding, walking off with the extraordinary dignity of a child. Lucy looked at Guy and he was grinning widely.

  He glanced down at her, the smile touching her astonished face.

  'It never occurred to me that you even knew of his existence,' she said.

  'We have a long-time understanding,' Guy murmured, taking her arm and walking her towards the house. 'His dignity is newly acquired. Not too long ago he was a small monster and broke at least one window each month.' He grinned. 'We reached an agreement. He is now my spy, reporting any mischief to me.

  Beware, my lady, you are under his scrutiny.'

  'I see. And I thought it was my charm.' Lucy smiled, cherishing this small moment, her love for Guy threatening to make her legs weak.

  'We are having guests tonight,' he announced as they went into the small salon. 'The Colliots are coming. It will be a small, informal dinner party, nothing to worry you. I have business to discuss with Albert and we can use my study.'

  'I'm to entertain Michelle Colliot?' Lucy asked tightly, suddenly remembering where he had been today. Was this meeting to discuss the situation? Was Albert Colliot prepared to divorce his wife?

  'For a while,' Guy said, his smile dying as he heard her strained voice. 'She will not attack you.'

  'Though she may think about it!' Lucy snapped bitterly. 'Will she help you to look after my child when I've gone?'

  'He will be my child too!' Guy rasped.

  'You haven't got a child yet!' Lucy's voice was brittle with misery if he could only have noticed but he was angry now, blazingly angry.

  'I intend to make quite sure that I do have a child.' His smile was mockingly cruel and she flushed painfully.

  'I realise that,' she admitted huskily. 'I'm not in any doubt as to why you make love to me.'

  'Aren't you?' he snarled, pulling her tightly into his arms. 'Do you not think that I work at it rather industriously—all night, for example?'

  Her cheeks flamed and her eyes looked wildly blue as she stared at him, wondering what he meant. It was only a second's embarrassment, though, because the whole world began to spin and fade and the last thing she heard was Guy's voice as she slipped quietly into a faint.

  When she came round Guy was bending over her as she lay on the long settee and Madame Gatien was bustling in with brandy.

  'She looked most unwell this morning, monsieur. If you had been here I would have told you then.'

  'I know now,' Guy muttered, his hand cool on Lucy's hot face.

  'Telephone the doctor and tell him it is an emergency.'

  'No!' Lucy managed as the housekeeper turned to go. 'I don't need a doctor.'

  'The telephone, Madame Gatien!' Guy snapped as she seemed to hesitate between orders and his tone assured her who was master still. She went.

  'I don't need a doctor,' Lucy murmured quietly, turning her face away. 'I know perfectly well what's wrong with me. I'm pregnant.'

  He was silent for so long that she began to wonder if he had heard at all.

  'How long have you known?'

  Guy's face was white as she turned to look at him, his eyes shuttered and still and she would have thought he didn't want a son at all if she hadn't known better. He just stood looking down at her as if she were telling him something dreadful.

  'I've known for a while but only for sure today. I—I was sick. I felt odd, floating. I thought at first it was because...'

  Her face flooded with soft colour at what she had been about to say.

  She had thought at first her strange feelings were because of the night with Guy, because of his fierce, insatiable lovemaking.

  Colour touched his face too and he dropped on his knees beside her, pulling her into his arms gently.

  'Oh, Lucy,' he muttered hoarsely. 'I thought you would be perfect for my plans but now I look at you and I see how fragile you really are, how young. Lucy, I -'

  She never knew what he was going to say because Madame Gatien came back in, her eyes still anxious, and to Lucy's surprise she wasn't a bit put out to see Guy kneeling and holding her.

  'The doctor is on his way, monsieur. He will be but minutes. Should I get the countess to her room?'

  'I will get the countess to her room!' Guy snapped, scooping Lucy up and walking to the door. 'You will wait here for the doctor and show him up!'

  All the doctor did was confirm what Lucy already knew and when he left, after strict instructions about her diet, Guy came back in, walking about with his hands deep in his pockets, saying nothing at all until Lucy felt like crying all over again.

  'I will cancel tonight's dinner,' he said finally. 'You are not to tire yourself. I will expect you to rest frequently now.'

  'There's no need to cancel the dinner,' Lucy told him gloomily, thinking that if he was planning to be with Michelle she would rather know now than later. 'Madame Gatien and I will manage perfectly well.'

  'I do not wish you to be under any strain while you are carrying my son.'

  It was all he cared about, the end of his great plan, and Lucy's lips tightened at this callous way of thinking.

  'I can't promise a boy!' she said bitterly. 'What happens if it's a girl?

  Do you extend my contract or make new arrangements with someone else?'

  The eyes he turned on her looked to be almost on fire and then he walked out of the door, saying nothing at all. When she got dressed and went downstairs he had gone again. What of it? She would finally say goodbye forever not only to Guy but to the baby she now carried inside her. She might as well get used to it, but she knew she never would. She loved Guy and soon she would love his child, although neither of them would really be hers. She went to find Andre. At least she had someone to talk to even if it was only a seven-year-old boy.

  The dinner party was all she had imagined it would be. Guy and Albert Colliot were locked in serious discussion as soon as the meal ended and Michelle's eyes were sharp on Lucy's face. Finally Guy took Albert to his study and Lucy had to face Michelle alone, hating to even look at her, loneliness and jealousy making her more unhappy than she had ever been.

  'You are managing well, I see.' Michelle leaned back, crossing her elegant legs and lighting a cigarette. 'It is not easy to be the Comtesse de Chauvrais. I gave up the idea.'

  'I didn't realise you'd been offered the position,' Lucy murmured. It merely amused Michelle. She threw back her beautiful head and laughed.

  'A quaint way of putting it. Surely Guy has not become so very courtly. I have known him for many years and he has always been a very sensuous man, one to sweep you off your feet, not offer you a position.'

  Lucy kept her face very still. He had offered her a position, after all, forced her into it, and clearly Michelle knew his lovemaking.

  'Anyway,' Michelle said, her hand sweeping round the grandeur of the room. 'I couldn't take all this. I'm very ordinary. I told Guy.'

  As ordinary as a tarantula.

  'He asked you to marry him?' Lucy asked carefully.

  'Oh, don't be anxious, my dear,' Michelle soothed, the gleam of malice in her eyes. 'It was a long time ago, before you came on the scene. I've known Guy for years and he's never had any trouble getting what he wanted, even now my skin shivers at the thought of it. I couldn't take this place though and that stepmother -'

  Lucy sprang up, pain searing through her at the thought of this woman in Guy's arms. She had to get out of here.

  'Please excuse me,' she muttered. 'I feel sick.'

  'My dear Lucinda! I hope I haven't upset you. Guy and I hardly meet now—well, not too often.'

  'You haven't upset me,' Lucy flared. 'After all, he married me. I really do feel sick. You see, I'm pregnant.'

  She fled from the room and at least she had the satisfaction of seeing Michelle's face go pale, seeing those
glossy nails bite into the soft palms.

  She was sick. The tension had been too much. She didn't go back down and Guy must have packed them off early. Even so, Lucy was in bed when he came into her room.

  'Lucy? You are ill?'

  He sounded desperately anxious and she turned her face away.

  'I'm quite all right. The early months are supposed to be the worst.'

  'I was in the study. Michelle did not tell me until we came out,' he said bitterly. At least it sounded bitter, but then he would be feeling like that, being with Michelle's husband and not alone with her as he would no doubt have liked to be, as he had also no doubt been with her earlier this day.

  'It doesn't matter. There was nothing you could have done.'

  'No. It is all too late now.'

  'It's exactly what you wanted, a small amount of my time. Eighteen months at the most, you said. How long has it been now? How long do I have to serve yet?'

  'Don't! Mon Dieu, you can look like an angel and injure with your tongue at the same time!'

  'Have I injured you, Guy?' she asked wearily. 'Surely I'm the one who's injured, captured, blackmailed, pregnant?'

  'Lucy!' His voice sounded almost broken but she turned away, Michelle's poisonously beautiful face filling her mind.

  'Please go away, Guy. I promise to rest, to take care. It's not an easy way to earn money and a title but I'm in it now for a while.'

  Over the next few months she hardly saw Guy at all. Business took him away and she was not invited. When he had bought clothes for her he had said that she would need clothes to be with him but he seemed to have forgotten that. He phoned her from Rome, from

  Venice and even from Paris although it was merely a matter of a few miles away. Clearly he did not want to come home at all and the only consolation she had was the baby, its presence now quite obvious.

  The staff spoiled her, Veronique seemed to haunt the place, but the one she wanted was never there. When he did come she was painfully shy, her condition no longer able to be disguised, and the look in his eyes embarrassed her.