Mystery Wife

by Annette Broadrick

  "And I set out to make your life miserable forever after, from the sound of things," she added.

  He looked at her in surprise, taken aback by her unexpected response. "Not at first," he finally said. "You were very taken with the chateau. You said it looked like something out of a Hollywood movie. You said you felt like a princess living in a castle."

  Since that was the same reaction she'd had when she'd learned of her life in France, she remained silent. What she wished she could understand was what had caused her to change her mind about her life with Raoul.

  The only way she was going to find out was to return to the chateau in hopes of having her memory triggered by familiar surroundings.

  Chapter 5

  Sherye didn't know how long they had driven before Raoul slowed the car and turned between two very old stone pillars just off the main road. She straightened in her seat and looked around, hoping against hope that something... anything... would look familiar to her.

  After following a winding lane to the crest of a hill, the car topped the hill, revealing a panorama that caused her to catch her breath.

  Nestled among a growth of well-preserved trees, the chateau sat like an old but well-loved dowager, content to watch the passing of time from its comfortable perch halfway along a hillside across the valley from where they were.

  "Oh, Raoul, it's beautiful... absolutely, perfectly beautiful," she breathed in awe.

  "Yes."

  His simple answer gave nothing of his feelings away. However, his expression spoke volumes of the love he felt for his home.

  How could she not remember such a place? she wondered. How could she have spent the past six years of her life here and ever want to leave it, for any reason? Without realizing her intention, she spoke her thoughts out loud with calm certainty. "I have never been here before in my life."

  "You mean you don't remember," he corrected her.

  "No. I mean that I could not possibly forget something so memorable and striking."

  He made no comment, allowing the car to pick up speed once more. They drove for almost twenty minutes before they arrived in front of the chateau. Leaving the car, Raoul walked to Sherye's door and opened it, then guided her up the steps. He opened the door and allowed her to precede him inside.

  The foyer soared upward two stories high to an arched dome, dwarfing the occupants below. Her gaze slowly fell from the ornately decorated ceiling to the stairway that wound downward from the upper floor. She saw a pair of wide green eyes peering down at them from around one of the balusters located in the upper hallway.

  Sherye unobtrusively edged toward the stairway without taking her eyes away from the child crouched upstairs. She smiled and in a soft voice said, "Is that you, Yvette?"

  The child edged away from the railing, her eyes, if anything, growing larger. Frustrated, Sherye looked over her shoulder at Raoul, who was speaking to a woman in a starched uniform. When Sherye glanced back upstairs, the child was gone.

  A pang of loss hit her unexpectedly. Had she been mistaken? Or was her own child unwilling to come greet her mother?

  "It is good to have you back with us, madame," Sherye heard behind her, and turned. The woman standing beside Raoul had spoken. "You are in time to join the others for tea."

  Ready or not, here I come, she thought to herself as Raoul took her arm and escorted her into one of the rooms off the foyer. She had a brief sense of connection with the young child she'd glimpsed on the balcony. She felt as alone as the child had looked—alone and uncertain of her welcome.

  The room she and Raoul entered was a formal salon from a much earlier and more gracious era. Each piece of furniture was a work of art, each accessory chosen by a discerning eye. She felt awed by her surroundings.

  Why, the place should be roped off to visitors! And yet... somehow the room managed to invoke a sense of welcome and comfort to the weary, a soothing source of permanence and peace emanating from it.

  "Ah, there you are," Raoul said and for the first time Sherye realized that they were not alone in the room. Two women had been seated in a grouping of chairs and love seats. Both of them stood when Raoul spoke.

  There was no denying their relationship to Raoul or to each other. They had the same strong bone structure, similarly shaped noses and eyes. The older woman was dressed in expensive black silk, and her hair—a mixture of silver and black—was swept back from her face into a tidy knot at the back of her head.

  Here was a woman who faced whatever life threw at her without flinching. She held her head proudly while she gazed at Sherye without blinking.

  The younger woman was similarly dressed in black, but where the color was striking and dramatic on the older woman, on the younger one the color made her skin look sallow. She wore her hair in braids wound around her head in a coronet. She could be anywhere from Sherye's age to thirty years older. Without makeup or any attempt at fashion, she appeared older than her slender build and smooth complexion might indicate. She, too, looked at Sherye without speaking.

  "Leandra will have our tea here shortly," Raoul said to the waiting women, while indicating that Sherye could sit on one of the love seats. Her knees had suddenly started to shake and she was glad for the opportunity to sit down before her nervousness was made obvious to everyone.

  Raoul took one of the chairs nearby, facing the two women across a low, wide table.

  "How was your trip?" the older woman said as though Raoul was alone.

  "Uneventful."

  Sherye clasped her hands in her lap, not sure what to do or say. She glanced up and saw Danielle looking at her with curiosity, but when their eyes met, Danielle immediately looked away.

  A heavy silence seemed to fill the room.

  "How are the children?" Raoul asked when no one seemed inclined to speak.

  Danielle showed the first signs of animation Sherye had seen in her since they had walked into the room. "They're quite well. I spent most of the morning with them. We went for a walk, and I told them that—" her gaze darted toward Sherye, then away "—their mother was coming home today."

  Silence filled the room once again.

  Sherye realized that she felt more alone, now that she was at home, than she had all the time she was in the hospital. She could feel the animosity toward her from the two women and didn't have the faintest notion how to deal with it. She felt cut off from the world around her, an unwanted spectator attempting to discover where she fit in to the scheme of things.

  The arrival of tea managed to ease the tension that had seemed to build in the room. There was something almost cheerful about sharing food and drink with others. Raoul continued to talk to the women as though nothing was out of the ordinary about their situation, and they began to relax and respond to him. Feeling more like an invisible observer, Sherye noticed how well Raoul ignored the atmosphere. He appeared comfortably relaxed, voicing his relief to be home.

  No one spoke directly to Sherye or included her in the conversation. If this was the way she was generally treated by the family, she could better understand why she'd reverted to the company of old friends.

  She was actually relieved rather than more nervous when the children appeared with their nanny.

  "Ah, yes, Louise," Raoul said, rising and heading toward where the trio stood just inside the doorway. "Thank you for bringing the children down." Sherye watched him walk over to the young, slim woman with reddish blond hair and attractively large blue eyes, and take the child she held into his arms. A little girl stood just behind the woman, shyly peering around her. Sherye recognized the green eyes and hesitant expression from her glimpse of the child in the hallway earlier. She felt a tug at the tightness in her chest.

  "Hello, Yvette," she offered softly. Holding out her hand, she added, "Won't you come here to see me?"

  With a dignity far beyond her years, Yvette walked across the wide expanse of rug toward her. Only her expressive eyes gave her away. Raoul followed Yvette with Jules in his arms. "Mama!" Jul
es announced gleefully. The exuberant word triggered unexpected tears and Sherye blinked rapidly in an attempt not to betray her reaction. When Yvette reached her side, Sherye pulled her stiff little body into the circle of her arms and hugged her daughter, feeling the rigidness of her spine beneath her fingers. Yvette suffered the hug but didn't lift her arms in response.

  When she allowed her daughter to step back from her, Sherye looked up and saw Jules jabbering to his father with a great deal of waving. "May I hold him?" she asked, holding out her arms. Raoul moved closer to her and started to hand Jules to her, but instead of going to her, Jules clung to Raoul and whimpered.

  Raoul's gaze met hers. "Perhaps we shouldn't force him," he said in a low voice. "He will need to get used to you."

  "But he knew me! He seemed so glad to see me that I thought—"

  "Oh, yes. He recognizes you. He just isn't used to being close enough to touch you."

  With those simple words ringing in her ears, Sherye could feel all her hard-won courage to face the consequences of her previous behavior crumble. She couldn't control the tears that filled her eyes.

  She turned her head away in an effort to hide her embarrassing reaction to her child's instinctive response to her. She swallowed in an attempt to speak around the lump in her throat. "I see."

  As though taking pity on her, Raoul sat beside her so that they were shoulder to shoulder. Jules continued to cling to his father's neck.

  Blinking away the tears, Sherye realized that Yvette was watching her intently. She gave her a wobbly smile. "Is your brother shy with everybody?"

  Yvette shook her head.

  "Are you shy?"

  Yvette tilted her head in a way that immediately brought Raoul to mind. "Sometimes."

  "Is this one of those times?"

  Instead of answering the question, Yvette said, "You're different."

  The statement seemed to bounce around the room like an echo. All the adults froze.

  "I am? In what way?"

  Yvette continued to look at her for a long moment. "I don't know, but you are."

  Raoul reached out and tenderly brushed a strand of Yvette's hair off her forehead. "Your mama has been ill for a while, remember? She's better now, though, so she could come home."

  Yvette turned her clear gaze back to Sherye. "Did you almost die?"

  Sherye glanced at Raoul, unsure of what to say. He answered for her. "The important thing is that she's well enough to come back home." He looked down at Jules, who had released his death grip on his father's neck and was staring at Sherye from eyes as dark as his father's. "Are you going to say hello to your mother, Jules?"

  Jules immediately hid his face in Raoul's shirt.

  Danielle spoke up. "Would you like me to take them out into the garden?"

  "I'll take them," Raoul said, standing. He looked down at Sherye. "Perhaps you could go upstairs and rest for a while. Danielle can show you the way."

  "Doesn't she know where she sleeps?" Yvette asked, not missing a trick.

  Refusing to start off with evasions, Sherye made an instant decision, instinctively wanting to be truthful with her daughter. "You see, Yvette," she said, taking the child's hand between both of hers for a moment, "I got a bad bump on my head, see?" She pushed back her hair and showed her die area that had been shaved. "Ever since then my memory plays tricks on me. I can't always remember everything that I used to."

  "Do you remember me?"

  Oh, help! she prayed, still not wanting to he to the little girl. Sherye cupped her heart-shaped face gently between her hands and asked, "How could anyone possibly forget such a special person like you?"

  Yvette's solemn stare seemed to look deeply into her soul. Then she grinned and threw her arms around Sherye's neck. "I'm glad you're home, Mama," she said, immediately backing away as though suddenly shy.

  "Me, too," she managed to say.

  She watched the tall man walk away from her, leading the little girl by one hand and carrying the boy with ease. They looked so comfortable with each other. Once again she had a flash of being alone and separate from her family.

  "Very touching," her mother-in-law said once Raoul was gone. "Perhaps you should have gone into the theater. If I didn't know better, I would have believed you've really missed your children."

  "Martian," Danielle murmured, her cheeks glowing.

  "I know, I know, I told Raoul that I would accept her presence here," she replied as though Sherye wasn't there. "I'm afraid I'm not as gullible as these men you've managed to wrap around your finger.''

  Sherye blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

  "And so you should, but seldom do. I'm talking about this act you're carrying on, pretending to have forgotten everything. It's most effective, to be sure."

  "Maman," Danielle began, "please don't. There's no point in—"

  "I know. She's here now." She turned back to Sherye. "I never faulted your intelligence, Sherye, and your ability to survive. It's beyond my comprehension how you were able to find out so quickly about Raoul's plans to divorce you. Now, of course, he must wait until you can—"

  "Divorce me?" Sherye repeated in a whisper. She felt as though all the air had been knocked out of her.

  "Don't try to pretend you don't know at this late date. You were certainly quick enough on your feet to fake an accident and pretend to helplessness before he could have the papers prepared, signed and filed."

  Sherye managed to stand, although her knees were shaking so hard she wasn't at all certain her legs would hold her. "I knew nothing about a divorce."

  "So you say."

  "I'm sorry that you don't believe me. I'm not faking anything. As far as I'm concerned, this is my first time here. You and Danielle are strangers to me." She knew she had to get away from these people. She walked toward the door, praying that her knees would continue to support her.

  "Sooner or later you'll give yourself away," her mother-in-law said behind her, "and you'll be out of here, out of our lives."

  Sherye continued through the doorway, out into the foyer and as far as the newel post of the stairs before her knees gave way. She grabbed the post and held on, taking deep breaths. Thinking she was alone, she was startled when Danielle spoke from immediately behind her.

  "I apologize for Maman's outspokenness," she said, pausing beside Sherye. "She's been under a considerable strain. We all have."

  Sherye straightened and started up the stairway on sheer determination and willpower. "She has every right to say whatever she wishes," Sherye replied. "This is her home, after all."

  She could feel Danielle's gaze on her but she needed all her concentration to place each foot on the next riser.

  "Yvette is right. You're different."

  Sherye gave a tiny shrug. "I wouldn't know," she said indifferently. At the moment all she wanted to do was to lie down before she collapsed. When she finally reached the top she paused to catch her breath, gripping the rail.

  "Your room is down this hallway," Danielle said.

  Taking a deep breath, Sherye followed her.

  Danielle opened one of the doors and stepped aside. "It's just that we love Raoul so much. It's been so painful to watch him deal with everything and not be able to do anything to help."

  Sherye paused in the doorway and looked at her sister-in-law. Standing this close and in better light, she could see that the woman wasn't much older than she was. She couldn't be more than thirty. With her dark eyes and creamy complexion she could be very attractive. Sherye wondered why she dressed so severely and wore her hair in such an unflattering style.

  "Thank you for showing me to my room," she said quietly.

  "Dinner is at eight. We generally meet in the salon at seven-thirty."

  "Thank you." Sherye closed the door and leaned against it, exhausted.

  The room before her had been decorated in gold and white, with touches of royal blue. Once again she was reminded of an earlier era, where massive furniture did not shrink the size of the room. A
large four-poster bed with a canopy that matched the drapes and spread stood at one end of the room, facing a fireplace. Floor-to-ceiling windows filled with leaded panes let in the light. She made her way across the wide expanse of carpet to the windows and looked down at a formal garden that stretched out toward a thick stand of trees.

  She saw Raoul seated on a stone bench beside a fountain. Yvette leaned beside him, her elbow on the bench, her chin resting in her palm, listening attentively to him while Jules stood in the shelter of Raoul's knees.

  She didn't bother to fight the tears that slipped down her cheeks. She had been counting on this day for so long. Dr. Leclerc had been so certain that her memory would be jogged once she returned home.

  Nothing looked familiar.

  She hadn't expected her mother-in-law's anger to be quite so aggressive. She hadn't expected to be accused of lying. Even more unnerving was the news that Raoul planned to divorce her.

  She turned away from the window, unable to handle looking at a family that she would lose so soon after she'd found them. All her life she had yearned for a family of her own. She and Janine had often talked about—

  Janine?

  Her heart gave a sudden thump in her chest. There was that name again. The doctor had suggested that she was a childhood friend. Perhaps she was, but there was more to it, wasn't there? They were still friends.

  Sherye closed her eyes in an effort to see Janine more clearly, to picture her surroundings, but all she got for her efforts was a pounding in her head.

  Why did some memories seem to pop up without rhyme or reason, while others refused to surface, no matter how strongly she wanted them?

  She hated the position she was in. If only she could remember why Raoul wanted a divorce. Of course the news shouldn't have surprised her. They had separate rooms and went their separate ways. She was obviously unhappy living here and after meeting her in-laws she had a much better understanding of why.

  Yes, a divorce was probably the best solution. The problem was she didn't know where she would go or what she would do, particularly if her mind continued to play tricks on her. No doubt Raoul had decided to wait until they'd arrived home to tell her about the divorce in the hope that, once home, she'd suddenly .remember everything and could discuss the matter intelligently.