The Baby Who Saved Christmas

by Alison Roberts

  ‘He needs to be with someone who loves him,’ Alice said again. ‘I love him. He’s my brother. Choose me, Julien.’

  He met her gaze and Alice’s heart skipped a beat.

  But then, after a long moment, he looked away.

  ‘Non. C’est impossible.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  THOSE EYES...

  He would never forget how they looked in this moment. He had crushed something beautiful. Naïve perhaps but something so genuine that it felt like he was hurting a child by not protecting it from the harshness of reality.

  ‘Je suis vraiment désolé, chérie... I am truly sorry...’

  He touched her face as he spoke and the way she tilted her head to press her cheek against his fingers was heart-breaking.

  He had to take his hand away before he gave in to the urge to hold her in his arms and start kissing her. Promising her things that it would be foolish to even consider. He used his hand to massage his own temples as he let his breath out in a sigh.

  ‘You are single, yes? You don’t have a boyfriend or fiancé?’

  The blush was a display of intense emotion he was getting used to from Alice. That flash of pain that could also be anger made him realise how stupid the question was. She had just given him more in bed than any woman ever had. And this was Alice. She did not have a deceitful bone in her body. She would never cheat on any man.

  ‘You work as a teacher. You love your work?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘But you would sacrifice your lifestyle in order to care for a child?’

  ‘Isn’t that what you did for your sister?’

  Julien shook off what sounded like admiration. He had only done what he’d had to do. And he hadn’t done it well enough, anyway.

  ‘You would not be viewed as a suitable guardian to raise a baby,’ he said. ‘And you would want to take him out of the country.’

  ‘Not necessarily.’

  ‘You have a house in Scotland, yes?’

  ‘Yes...’

  ‘Jacquot is French. The last member of what has been a very powerful family in France. His father has always been adored as a national icon.’

  ‘But didn’t you say that Madame Laurent lives in Geneva?’

  ‘The border between France and Geneva is merely a formality for many French people. Besides, it is only one of her houses. I understand she has a luxury apartment in Cannes and she may choose to live here in this house, which I believe was the family home when André was a child himself.’

  A house they both knew was a mausoleum totally unsuited to raising a child.

  ‘I could live in France.’ There was determination in those liquid brown eyes now. Passion even. ‘I’m half-French.’

  ‘That would be difficult. You don’t speak our language.’

  Her chin lifted. ‘I’m learning.’

  She was. The shy echo of her words when he’d asked whether their lovemaking had been good—Je l’aime—gave him an odd tightness in his chest that made it hard to draw in a new breath.

  ‘Yvonne Laurent is a powerful woman who is used to getting her own way. I don’t even know if I can win what I want to get from her. It may be up to the courts to decide whether the relationship of an uncle is more important than that of a grandmother.’

  ‘I’m his sister...’

  ‘A half-sister. And that would probably have to be endorsed by a court as well. The French legal system can be very slow. Especially if someone has the money to delay proceedings. Cases can drag on for months. Years even, and that would not be a good thing for a child. Small children can understand more than you might think...’

  Like he had when he’d started protecting Colette from the moment she’d been born? So she would never know that it was also her fault that their father had gone?

  He could see the empathy in her eyes now. He shouldn’t have told her so much about his childhood. She could read between lines, couldn’t she? She knew how bad it had been and she wanted to make it better somehow.

  To make him feel loved?

  The pull was so powerful it was painful but he couldn’t give in to it. There was no room in his life for someone to be that close. No room in a heart that was too scarred to love and lose again.

  ‘But you are going to fight,’ Alice said softly. ‘To get what you want. Custody of Jacquot?’

  ‘No.’ Julien shook his head. That would mean he would become a parent again. He would have the kind of responsibility he had already proved with his sister that he could not honour well enough. ‘I simply want regular access. For the boy to know I am his mother’s brother and that I will help him in whatever way he needs as he grows up.’

  ‘Maybe I could have access, too?’

  He had to admire her optimism. The hope she could find in every dark corner. Like the way she had seen something good in an ancient toy that was waiting patiently to be of importance one day.

  ‘Maybe fighting isn’t the way to win,’ Alice said slowly. ‘This woman doesn’t know that she is my grandmother. If Jacquot is so important to her, it could be that she might listen to her other grandchild. If I don’t threaten her, maybe I can persuade her.’

  ‘Peut-être.’ Alice McMillan could probably persuade anybody if she looked at them like that. He was in danger of being persuaded that he could gift his heart to someone again and he knew that wasn’t true. He had found the safe place to be years ago. Away from someone who would see him as a husband and father.

  He needed to break the spell that was being woven around him here, in the light of all these romantic candles. In a kitchen that was a room that would always feel like home, no matter where he was. In a Christmas setting that was always redolent with the idea of family...

  ‘Have you had enough to eat? There is a plum pudding with brandy sauce. And custard. Would you like to taste it?’

  ‘Peut-être,’ Alice enunciated again, carefully. And then she smiled at him. ‘Actually, yes, please. I would love to.’

  It was good to move. To take the plates of their unfinished first course away and make a clear space to start again. To move on.

  A little showmanship with the pudding came as naturally as breathing these days and it was comforting, too, because it was a demonstration of who he was. What his life was about.

  He put the pudding on its platter in front of Alice and moved a candle closer. He held a silver ladle full of brandy over the flame of the candle to warm it and then tipped it just enough to catch the flame and ignite. He never got tired of the magic of that blue flame and the way it flowed so dramatically over the curve of the pudding as he slowly poured it.

  ‘Oh...’ Alice’s gasp of appreciation was another echo of their time in his bed and Julien couldn’t dampen a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

  He stayed quiet as he served their dessert but Alice had something to say.

  ‘It won’t be long, will it? Until...until our quarantine is over.’

  ‘No. I’m hoping the test results will come through tomorrow. I hope also that they are good because I have to go to Paris the next day. It’s Christmas Eve and I need to be present on the live broadcast of the show if possible. To appear by a remote connection would not be good enough.’

  ‘Hmm...’ Alice paused, a spoonful of pudding halfway to her lips. ‘We only have a short time together, then...’

  ‘This is true.’ He couldn’t tell her that her words gave him a sinking feeling, as if a huge stone had lodged in his gut. To imagine there could be any time together after this was as impossible as the notion of her becoming the guardian for her little brother.

  Alice’s head was bent, her gaze on her spoon. And then she peeped up through a thick tangle of dark lashes with a look that would have rendered any red-blooded male completely helpless. ‘
We should make the most of it, then...’

  Julien took the spoon gently from her fingers. He cupped her chin and raised it so that he could kiss her with equal gentleness.

  ‘Je suis d’accord. Absolument.’

  It couldn’t do any real harm, could it? To enjoy the company of such an intriguing woman? At least, this time, he wouldn’t have to make the decision to walk away—the way he always did when a woman was getting too close. It was going to happen naturally so why not make the most of every moment they had left? It might only be a matter of hours.

  Starting with what was left of this already remarkable night. With luck, Jacquot was well enough to sleep in his own bed right through until morning as long as he was fed and clean and, thanks to the baby monitor, there was no need for Alice to return to her own bed.

  He was more than happy to share his.

  * * *

  It was the first time little Jacquot Laurent had slept through the night.

  It was also the first time he had woken and not immediately cried for attention. Instead, the sounds that came through the monitor handset were soft chirrups and coos, as if the baby was experimenting with talking to himself.

  Alice awoke to the sounds with a smile already curving her lips. And then she realised she was still snuggled against Julien’s bare chest with his arm around her and his fingers carelessly draped across her breast and the smile seemed to turn inwards.

  She had never felt contentment like this. A weariness that felt blissful because of what had been experienced instead of sleep. Alice tilted her head so that she could see Julien’s face. Relaxed in slumber, he had lost the solemn air and intensity she had grown accustomed to. A tress of that surprisingly soft hair had caught on his lashes and lay across his cheek and lips. Alice reached up and gently brushed it back into place. Maybe her grandmother would have disapproved of Julien’s hairstyle but Alice was never going to forget the thrilling tickle of that hair on her skin when Julien had been kissing and tasting her body. Her neck...her breasts...her belly...and, oh...

  A pair of gorgeous hazel eyes were on her face and Alice knew she was going to blush so she ducked her head.

  ‘Jacquot is awake. Listen...’

  Julien also smiled. ‘He sounds happy.’

  ‘He must be hungry. I need to go to him.’

  ‘Of course. And I should go and do something with that disaster of a kitchen. Shall I bring you some coffee before breakfast?’

  ‘Please...’ Alice rolled away but Julien’s arm tightened around her and pulled her back.

  ‘You have forgotten something, chérie.’

  ‘Oh? What?’

  ‘This...’ Julien kissed her. A brief caress and then a more thorough one. ‘It is a French custom, the morning kiss...’

  ‘Mmm...’ If it hadn’t been for a more demanding cry coming from the monitor, the morning kiss would no doubt have become much more than that.

  Was it too much to hope that they could have one more night together? Alice wondered as she hastily pulled on her clothes and made her way to the nursery. This felt like the start of something new. Something wonderful. Something that was too good to be true?

  She heard the phone ringing as she had Jacquot in his bath, squeaking the rubber duck to make him smile and kick his feet. Was it nine a.m. already? The doctor was as reliable as an alarm clock. She had her little brother dressed and ready for his new day by the time Julien came to the nursery, carrying a steaming mug of delicious-smelling coffee. A wide grin appeared on the baby’s face.

  ‘He knows you,’ Alice said. ‘Here...he needs a cuddle from his uncle.’ She took the mug of coffee from his hand and eased the bundle of baby into Julien’s arms. Neither of them made any protest about the contact and Alice beamed at them both before taking her first sip of coffee.

  This was progress. If Julien could bond with Jacquot as much as she had, they could join forces to make sure this baby had what he needed so badly—people to love him to bits.

  ‘Was it the doctor who rang? Did you tell him how happy Jacquot sounded this morning?’

  ‘It was and I did. He said that there doesn’t need to be any further restriction to keeping him in the house if he’s well enough to go out.’

  ‘Oh...’ That meant that he could be taken out, didn’t it? Taken away...

  ‘He also said that the results of our blood tests are finally back. We are both immune to measles. There are no further restrictions on either of us either. I have already booked an early flight to Paris tomorrow morning. And...’

  Alice held her breath. Julien was looking down at the baby in his arms, who must have been enjoying the sound of his voice as much as she was because he smiled again, so energetically it made his whole little body wiggle. And Julien was smiling back but then he looked up at Alice and his smile faded.

  ‘And Madame Laurent is driving down from Geneva this afternoon to make arrangements. She intends to take Jacquot back to her home tonight.’

  The lump in Alice’s throat was too big to swallow. ‘What time is she due to arrive?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Early this evening, I expect.’ Julien’s face was as sombre as the first time she’d met him but there was a depth of softness there that was very new. ‘I’m sorry, chérie...there seems to be nothing I can do to stop this. Nothing I can do to help you.’

  Alice looked away as she blinked back tears but all she could think about was the man standing there, holding the small baby. They were both the people she now cared about more than anyone else in her world.

  And she had less than a day to be with them both. She pulled in a shaky breath.

  ‘There is one thing you could do.’

  ‘What is that? I have a few urgent matters I must attend to first, like discussing how to handle this with my solicitor, but I will have time this afternoon. If I can do this thing for you, I promise you I will.’

  Alice turned back. ‘I will have to leave France tomorrow and I feel like I haven’t seen nearly enough. Could you take me somewhere that I will remember? Maybe somewhere...’ her voice became quieter, hopeful ‘...that is special to you?’

  She saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. Was he reluctant to let her any further into his life?

  ‘We would have to take the little one with us.’

  Alice nodded. ‘I know where things are. Like the nappy bag and a pram. Or there’s a front pack. I can make up a bottle of formula that any café could warm for us.’ She bit her lip. ‘Have those journalists gone? You don’t get harassed in public for being famous, do you?’

  ‘I know how to deal with that.’ His expression changed. A decision had been made and there was a hint of a smile on his lips. ‘And I think I know where I can take you. Somewhere special enough for your last day in France. I will attend to what I must do and you get yourself and Jacquot ready.’

  Alice took the baby from his arms and smiled up at him. ‘Will I like it?’

  ‘You will love it.’ He turned to leave the nursery.

  ‘You have forgotten something, Julien.’

  ‘Oh...?’

  Alice stood on tiptoe, leaning over the baby to kiss him. ‘It’s a Scottish custom,’ she said softly. ‘The goodbye kiss...’

  It was even better than the kiss, she decided moments later—the way she’d made him smile.

  * * *

  Some time out to clear his head was the best thing he could do for this afternoon. After a string of telephone conversations between himself, his solicitor and Madame Laurent’s solicitor, it had been agreed that a brief family meeting might be the best first step. Nothing official, such as taking Jacquot away from the house, would happen before tomorrow.

  This was the opportunity Julien had requested for the key players to discuss the situation without outside input and legal arguments to inflame temp
ers. Alice’s words had stayed in his mind—that perhaps persuasion might be more effective than threats. He had called for a temporary truce and, amazingly, Madame Laurent had agreed. The only thing she didn’t know was that there were now three key players rather than two. And that the third one was a granddaughter she didn’t know existed.

  Alice could either be an ace up his sleeve or be seen as a threat that could close doors for ever. It was impossible to know which way the dice might roll but Julien was trying to channel some of Alice’s optimism. It might help all of them.

  Being recognised was not usually a problem and the media contingent outside the gates had given up and gone elsewhere days ago but Julien did need to be careful this time. He was breaching the court order that the Laurent family solicitors had arrived with on the day of the funeral to prevent him taking his nephew anywhere, and there was still the problem of Alice’s connection to the family becoming public before Yvonne Laurent had time to accept the bombshell. It might have been easier to stay discreetly in the house for one more day but he’d made a promise and he was not about to dishonour that.

  So he wore a black fisherman-style pullover under a coat with its collar turned up and hid his hair beneath a black woollen beanie that he wore low on his forehead because the day was too overcast to warrant sunglasses. Fortunately the chances of being recognised were low anyway, because the last thing anybody would expect would be to see him out with a woman who had a baby in a front pack, well bundled up for any winter chill with tiny arms and legs poking out of the contraption like a miniature snowman.

  It hadn’t been hard to think of an appropriate place to take Alice to give her a taste of France at Christmastime. He and Colette had been taken there once, as children, and it was probably the happiest memory of his entire childhood.

  It was a bonus that the clouds were thick and dark enough to make it seem much later in the day than early afternoon because it made the Christmas lights of Nice’s marché de Noël almost as bright as they would be at night. The enormous pine trees along the Promenade du Paillon were thickly dusted with artificial snow as they walked through the park to the Place Massena, and as they got closer they could see that the ice-skating rink was full of families out with their children and the giant Ferris wheel was turning. The massive Christmas trees were sparkling and there were crowds of shoppers at the stalls selling hand-crafted gifts and food and mulled wine.