“Yes.”
“And because you didn’t really know Laurent, it wasn’t that hard for you to lie to him and try to manipulate him.”
“It was never not hard, Maggie.”
“Poor you.”
“I was desperate. I’m glad for you, little sister, if you’ve never felt like that before.”
“I’ve felt in fear for my life and for the life of my child. Does that count?”
“I’ll never be able to make that up to you. Never.”
“You’re right.”
He looked at her as she reached over and took Jemmy back.
“And then when you couldn’t trick Laurent into signing, you pulled out the big guns.”
“That was all Haley,” Ben said. “She’d started obsessing about you last winter when Jem was born.”
“It wasn’t all Haley,” Maggie said, smoothing Jemmy’s hair and licking a finger to force his cowlick in place. “You knew where she kept the documents—”
“Yes, alright. I suck. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“Do you want it?”
He looked at her in surprise. “What? Of course I do. I’ve apologized to Laurent and he seems ready to move past it.”
“So that just leaves me.”
“Yeah. Just you.”
“Aside from what your crazy wife did, you tried to sabotage my life and put my husband in prison.”
“As I said, I’m aware I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
They didn’t speak for a moment.
“I need to get back,” Maggie said, standing. “When does your train come? Are you flying out of Marseille?”
“I won’t stop trying to get it,” he said quietly. “I am so, so sorry, Maggie. I beg you to forgive me, no matter how long it takes. And if you never do, I swear I’ll understand.”
“Okay, well, I do forgive you, Ben.”
“You do?”
“Of course. I have to. You’re my only brother and I love you. I’d just as soon not see you for a while though, which I imagine won’t be tricky since you’re always a no-show at family gatherings.”
“I’ll be at Mom and Dad’s this Thanksgiving,” he said. “And Christmas too,” he added quickly.
“Oh. Well, that will be nice for them. I’m afraid I can’t make it this year, but you going is a step in the right direction.”
“Thank you, Maggie.”
“You’re welcome, Ben.”
Jemmy fell asleep the minute Maggie buckled him into his car seat for the drive back to Domaine St-Buvard. She found a soothing classic musical station on the radio and relaxed in the driver’s seat as she pulled onto the entrance ramp of the D17 toward home.
As far as closure went, she had to admit the afternoon had been a very good idea. Whoever’s idea it was, she decided with a smile, she fully intended to reward her big, handsome husband for its happy outcome.
As she accelerated, she heard her cell phone vibrating in the console and glanced at the screen. It was Laurent.
“Hi, lover,” she said into the speaker. “I’m on my way home right now.”
“Bon. Everything okay?”
“Good as gold, darling. Are you cooking tonight?”
“Bien sûr. Nothing big, just a few amuse-bouche. You and Grace and I will eat later after our guests have gone.”
“Or not. I still don’t have all the pregnancy weight off me from Jemmy, Laurent.”
“I forbid you to diet.”
“And I forbid you to use that word again.”
“Forbid or diet?”
“Both of them, now that I think of it. Besides, you’re just trying to keep me fat so no one else will want me.”
“Impossible. I am beating your suitors off daily with sticks. Don’t rush back, chérie, but get here as soon as you can. I must now go watch my gratin dauphinois.”
“Of course you must. Oh, wait, Laurent, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, and with our new policy of total disclosure I thought this would be a good time.”
“Oui, chérie?” he said impatiently.
“Did you really have half a million euros when I met you?”
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About the Author
Susan Kiernan-Lewis lives in Ponte Vedra, Florida and writes about Europe, mysteries and romance. Like many authors, Susan depends on the reviews and word of mouth referrals of her readers. If you enjoyed Murder in Nice, please consider leaving a review saying so on Goodreads.com or your favorite retailer.
Check out Susan’s website at susankiernanlewis.com and feel free to contact her at [email protected].
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