A Bride to Redeem Him

by Charlotte Hawkes

  ‘Say the words, Alex.’

  She knitted her eyebrows at him, but he found he couldn’t let her off with it; couldn’t explain why he needed to hear her say the words.

  ‘Say it,’ he murmured.

  She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then took a deep breath.

  ‘Yes. Yes, Louis, I’ll marry you.’

  The fire that burst within him made no sense. Still, he stood up, gathering her into his arms and kissing her as though they were the only two people in the room. In the universe.

  A blazing, hot, white light in the middle of darkness.

  He might have known it couldn’t last.

  They were still caught up in his thoughts when the maître d’ hurried over, his usual elegant, practised glide all but abandoned, not even attempting to speak in English for Alex, even though he’d been doing so all night.

  ‘I apologise for the interruption but there is an urgent call for you, Monsieur Delaroche. A serious Motocross accident involving young Florien. They think he might die.’

  Everything receded from Louis’s head. Florien, the grandson of Arnaud. This was what he, Louis, excelled at—surgery, helping people medically. If there was an accident, Louis intended to be there.

  * * *

  Alex watched Louis, wondering what was going on. His grim expression was one she didn’t recognise and his gabbled French was too fast for her to even attempt to understand.

  She knew there had been an accident...someone’s leg...a fracture maybe. Or a break.

  The call he made was brief, factual. Louis was already standing and pulling a wad of notes out of his wallet, his apology curt.

  ‘There’s been an accident?’ she prompted as he snatched up his jacket.

  ‘I’m sorry, yes. A Motocross accident,’ For the first time Louis looked at her. ‘Florien, Arnaud’s grandson.’

  ‘A crash?’

  ‘He was making a jump when he realised he wasn’t going to make it and so he threw himself off the bike. But he didn’t throw himself far enough.’

  That suggested impact. And if it was the top of his leg, Alex knew it didn’t sound good.

  ‘Femur fracture?’

  ‘Could be.’ Louis shrugged as they exchanged a grim look. ‘It’s too dark for them to see if there’s any shortening of the leg but I know Florien, he’s quite a tough kid. Still, it sounds like he’s in incredible pain.’

  They both knew that with a femoral break the surrounding muscles would spasm, pulling one end of the broken bone past the other. It would be painful but more significantly it could cause bleeding as well as muscle and nerve damage.

  The stress of the afternoon, and the euphoria of the proposal, fell away in an instant. Because of the femur’s proximity to the femoral artery, it was possible that a patient could haemorrhage to death from an isolated femur fracture. Until they got to Florien they wouldn’t have any idea how serious it was.

  And Alex had a feeling Louis was about to tell her to stay at the restaurant while the maître d’ had someone send a car from the chateau to collect her.

  ‘Forget it,’ she told Louis, standing up before he could open his mouth. ‘I’m going with you. If it’s as serious at you fear then I might be able to help.’

  It was almost gratifying that he didn’t argue. He simply squeezed her hand, had a quick word with the sombrely nodding maître d’ and headed out the door.

  She rushed to keep up with him, both of them silent as they jumped into the car. Louis revved the engine into life and they roared away, eventually turning off the road and onto a dirt track barely fit for a dirt bike, let alone a car.

  ‘Hold on,’ he advised.

  Alex braced herself as the car hurtled over bumps and divots, the bottom of the car grinding worryingly as it hit the ground. Even with Louis’s skilled driving it was going to be wrecked. But, then, anyone with less skill than Louis could never have got it over this terrain in the first instance.

  She saw kids desperately waving their arms fractions after Louis did. The car pulled up sharply by the boy, barely at a standstill before Louis was out and racing across, the cries of pain letting them know how close Florien was.

  The terrain was, frankly, not designed for high-heeled shoes.

  Alex gathered up her dress and made her ungainly way behind Louis, who turned abruptly.

  ‘I keep a gym bag in the boot with a change of clothes,’ he called out, and then he was gone.

  Alex gratefully made her way to the back of the car, throwing it open and grabbing the bag. A pair of shorts, a T-shirt and a tracksuit greeted her, as well as a welcome pair of socks. Within minutes she was changed and hurrying the short distance across the ground. Even so, she was still a fair way behind Louis and by the time she reached them he was on his phone and barking out instructions in French.

  Beyond him, lamps had been placed in a circle, shining light on a young boy lying flat on the ground. But even from that distance there was no doubt it was a femoral break, with one leg significantly shorter than the other and clearly at an unnatural angle. She made her way down the dirt mound.

  ‘Mid-shaft, closed fracture,’ Louis informed her as soon as he’d finished on the phone. ‘I’ve updated the emergency services and made sure an air ambulance is on its way. But they’re going to need to package him up before they transport him.’

  She nodded. ‘Straighten the leg and slip the femur back in place, or at least as close as,’ she said, her voice quiet.

  ‘We can speed that up for them so they can get him to hospital quicker.’

  ‘You have a traction splint back at the chateau?’ she guessed.

  ‘No, we’ll make one in the field.’

  Her stomach dipped with uncertainty.

  ‘I don’t know how.’

  ‘I’ll teach you,’ he said simply, matter-of-fact.

  Despite her reservations, she instantly felt more confident.

  ‘What about pain relief? We can’t try to move the leg without anything.’

  ‘In this instance there’s no compromise,’ he stated. ‘I need you to find the materials.’

  Quashing any reservations, she nodded her head.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Good.’ His brief smile filled her with warmth. ‘First I need a couple of branches. One should be about a metre and half long to run from his armpit to his foot, the other should be about just under a metre to run from his groin to his foot. Forked, if at all possible.’

  ‘What diameter do you want them, or does it matter?’ she hedged.

  ‘They’re going to support the leg so I’d say make sure they’re sturdy and thick. At least four centimetres.’

  ‘Okay.’ She was beginning to get the idea, and Louis’s characteristic strength was infectious.

  Whatever had happened in town this afternoon, maybe they could put it aside after all.

  ‘You’re also going to need to find a stick to go on the underside of his foot and several lengths of something to lash them together. Rip up material if you have to.’

  ‘What about belts? I bet his friends would give us theirs.’

  ‘Good,’ Louis said approvingly. ‘If we pad the area, that could work. We need to pad the area where the sticks will go so get as much clothing together as you can.’

  Galvanised, Alex cast around and grabbed a few of Florien’s friends. Telling one of them to start collecting spare coats, jumpers, any clothing he could, and thrusting a lamp into the hands of another so that they’d be able to see what they were looking for, Alex managed to get the others to follow her as she headed to the wooded area a short way away. Once she got there, she could use the branches around her to get across to them what they were looking for. As far as she was concerned, the more eyes there were, the better.

  It was easier than she’d expected to find a selection o
f branches, especially with the help of Florien’s desperate friends. Discarding those she knew wouldn’t be suitable, they gathered the rest up and headed back to where Louis was to select whichever he thought would work best.

  She’d planned to sort out the rest of the clothing once she got there, but was hardly surprised to see Louis already had it in hand, as well as consistently checking on his patient and looking for a pulse. He looked up as soon as she approached.

  ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Not bad.’ She tried not to let her heart kick. ‘What about Florien?’

  He kept his expression deliberately neutral for those around them, but the look he exchanged with her was one of mutual understanding.

  And something else. The former bonds of connection were returning.

  ‘I’ll be happier when I get the traction done and there’s a good pedal pulse.’

  ‘The branches are there.’ She indicated them, understanding his concern. ‘Hopefully there’ll be some useful lengths in there.’

  ‘Great.’

  Reaching over, he ran an expert eye over the selection and then chose two longer pieces, offering each up to the outer side of Florien. Quickly he discarded one and then, after a quick word to the group, which promptly produced an army-style knife, he began to dig out a notch in one end of the other branch.

  Alex watched fascinated as he did the same with a shorter branch, offering them up to the boy on either side of the leg requiring traction. Then he began to secure the longer branch to Florien by sliding padding and a belt around the boy’s waist.

  ‘Can you reach?’

  Hastily, Alex slipped her hand under to find the other end of the belt that Louis was passing under their patient’s back, and as she caught on to what he was doing, he left her to it as he moved on to tie another, securing it around the top of the boy’s leg, this time including the shorter branch. When she was done at Florian’s waist, Alex moved lower, making sure not to tie anything on his knee but keeping well above and below, still padding as she went.

  It felt easy and natural to be working together, Alex realised. They instinctively knew each other, could anticipate the other, taking it in turns to soothe Florien and try to reassure him, despite the pain he had to be in. A little of the earlier trust was back. Working together just as they had in Theatre was reminding them both of the connection they’d shared.

  At least, Alex hoped it was.

  And then they were at the ankle, and Louis produced a long length of bandage.

  ‘First-aid kit in the car.’ He half smiled as she glanced at it in surprise. ‘I need it for this bit more than anywhere else.’

  ‘You’re going to tie the ankle,’ she guessed.

  ‘Yes, but watch.’

  Curious, Alex observed as Louis tied it around Florien’s ankle, then twisted each end around the final small branch, which he fitted under the boy’s foot. Then he slid in a winching stick.

  ‘Now.’ He leaned in to Alex’s ear. ‘You twist, I’ll deal with Florien. Whatever you hear, keep twisting until his legs are the same length and you know the bone is realigned. The quicker you can do it, the sooner the worst of the pain is over for him, understand?’

  Louis was trusting her, depending on her, and that felt good. Not to mention the fact that she wanted to help this poor kid as much as she could. Lifting her eyes briefly to Louis’s, she gave a sharp dip of her head.

  ‘Ready,’ she murmured.

  And then she twisted. Over and over and over, blocking out the sounds of Florien’s screams as Louis talked to him and reassured him. She only knew that the smoother and faster she could perform her role, the better in the long run. And then she had done it. His leg was straighter, the femur realigned as close as they were going to get it, given the crude equipment they had, and Florien’s legs were the same length.

  ‘Okay.’ She raised her voice loud enough for Louis to hear, shaking away the stray hairs that clung to the sweat on her face.

  ‘Nice. Now secure the winching stick so it doesn’t reverse and loosen what you’ve just done, then slip each end of the cross-branch into the notches I made in each of the splint branches.’

  ‘Like this?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Louis confirmed, turning back to Florien to confirm to him that it was over. Then he checked the pulse in the boy’s toes and foot.

  ‘Good pedal pulse, no swelling, toes are nice and pink. Good result, Alex, well done.’

  His praise felt inordinately good, but more than that they’d been working well together and somehow that had eased her discomfort since her arrival better than any gourmet meal could have done.

  ‘Take my car back to the chateau and speak to Brigitte. Florien’s mother has already been contacted and is on the way to the hospital but Brigitte will know the best people to call to look after the younger siblings over the next day or so.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘And, Alex,’ he called softly. ‘I’ll see you back at home.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  IT WAS LATER than she’d thought it would be by the time Alex trudged up the stone steps and through the silent chateau. She didn’t need to search for Brigitte as the older woman came hurrying from the kitchens as soon as Alex entered. Hugging her and nodding, taking a moment to talk about other things, which left Alex’s head spinning, the older woman bustled away. Her parting words were to tell a dazed Alex that a fire had been lit and food set out if she was hungry.

  It was a welcome suggestion, especially when the first waves from the blazing fire began to thaw Alex’s frozen toes. The engagement ring glinted in the firelight, and a different kind of warmth blew gently through her chest. Despite the long night and the exhaustion beginning to set in, the thought of going to her room without Louis was one she didn’t care to entertain.

  Louis. The man who would soon be her husband. Her stomach flip-flopped. Their charade aside, if she wasn’t marrying playboy Louis, but instead marrying the version of the man she’d seen out there tonight, the man who hadn’t thought twice about helping the son of one of his employees, treating him with no less care or respect than he would his top bill-paying patients, then she could actually be the luckiest unconventional bride around.

  She quashed the nerves that betrayed her. The fluttering sensation that maybe, just maybe their marriage could be so much more than just a charade. If only she could convince him to stop punishing himself for something he couldn’t possibly have had any control over.

  Alex froze.

  Wasn’t that exactly the mistake she’d spent her own life making? No, it couldn’t possibly be the same thing? Could it? Lost in thought, she collapsed back into the wing-backed chair and stared into the fire.

  She didn’t know how long she waited, or that she’d even dozed off, but when she awoke Louis was in the room, throwing a couple of logs on the dying fire, the first rays of morning light peeking from around a kink in the heavy curtains.

  ‘What time is it?’ She stretched, her neck moving awkwardly.

  ‘Around dawn. You should have gone to bed.’

  ‘I was waiting for you.’

  ‘I accompanied Florien to the hospital.’

  Why didn’t that surprise her?

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘He’ll recover.’ Louis nodded grimly.

  ‘But no more Motocross.’ She hazarded a smile, unprepared for the shockwaves that coursed through her body as Louis smiled wryly in return.

  ‘Not for a good while. But, knowing Florien, he won’t be able to give it up for good.’

  ‘Obstinate, then, just like all young men?’

  ‘We Lefebvre men are the same.’

  The room fell silent, only the logs spitting in the fireplace disturbing the air. And Louis’s gaze was on her, reaching out to her, although she didn’t think he even realised it. The fact that he had jus
t identified himself as Lefevbre rather than Delaroche offered her a glimmer of hope that he was finally beginning to accept he wasn’t like his cruel father after all; that he had more of his mother’s kindness about him than he realised.

  Something skittered through Alex and she unconsciously fingered the ring on her finger. Once Louis accepted that he didn’t need to punish himself any more, he would truly be unstoppable. He could change anything he wanted to—if he wanted to—and maybe they could really begin to trust each other.

  ‘You know that’s who you are,’ she began tentatively.

  ‘Alex...’

  She couldn’t let him interrupt her. Couldn’t let him run away this time—although he would never, in a hundred centuries, believe that was what he was doing.

  ‘You don’t have to be either your mother or your father. You can be yourself, and who you are is pretty special, Louis. Or at least could be. You’re the best parts of the Lefebvre and Delaroche lineages. You could take up your mother’s legacy and create something even more prestigious than the Delaroche Foundation. But, unlike your father, you’d be doing it for all the right reasons.’

  His lips pulled into a cold, hard line. But he was still standing there, still listening to her. That had to stand for something.

  ‘This again? Why do you keep pushing this? Just because I helped Florien tonight doesn’t make me who you want me to be.’

  He was right, she couldn’t seem to let it go. But suddenly it felt vitally important. She could tell herself it was her last chance to secure Rainbow House, to make her father realise just how much she would sacrifice to make up for what they had lost, but she suspected it had become more than just that.

  She suspected it had become more about Louis, and the way he resisted the good part of himself because he didn’t feel he deserved it. He was punishing himself for his mother’s death and, for some reason, that hurt her. As though layers were being peeled away, from the inside out.

  Very much as though Louis mattered to her. More than she had ever thought possible.

  But that couldn’t be right.

  This was about her father, and Rainbow House. Nothing more, nothing less, and that was what she had to stick to.