“I’m going to have to take you here more often. I like watching you break out of the mold.”
“Just as long as no one catches the moment with a camera.”
We both laughed since that had already happened.
“For the most part, we’re safe in that regard when we’re in the village. No one wants to create a scandal. It’s tradition for the citizens of Calais to remain loyal to the royal family.”
“Good to know.”
After I paid the bill, we exited the restaurant just as a woman carrying a toddler walked in. The little girl had two blonde pigtails that stuck out on each side of her head and big blue eyes that took up a large portion of her face, reminding me of a baby doll.
“Hi,” the little girl said in a high-pitched voice, looking at Annette. She waved a chubby little hand and smiled.
“Aren’t you too cute,” Annette said, waving back. She glanced at the mother who almost appeared star-struck as she looked back and forth between me and Annette. “What’s her name?”
“Juliette.”
“She’s beautiful. You must be proud.”
“Thank you, I am.” The woman glanced adoringly at her daughter and blushed from the compliment, seeming delighted. “It’s an honor to hear that from your lips, Ma’am. I’ve always admired you, and I’m praying for you…for a quick recovery.”
“I appreciate that,” Annette said.
After we left, Annette linked her arm through mine. “I want one.”
“One what?”
“A baby.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “I thought you weren’t sure how you felt about that.”
“I wasn’t, but I’m sure now.”
“You mean, all it took was seeing a cute child and you’re suddenly on board?”
“Guess so. It just feels right.”
I smiled. One more step in the right direction. It wouldn’t be long before we were back on track. Once we were in the car heading to Westbridge Castle, I got a call. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and answered.
“Hello.”
“Your Highness, this is Paul Bérubé. I checked into your wife’s investigator, Reginald Thompson, and it appears he doesn’t exist, at least in Calais. No one by that name has a license. It’s possible he works under the radar, but I can’t find a record of him anywhere.”
“That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not, and there’s something else you should know. I located Victor Thibeau. He’s renting a cottage at a Bed and Breakfast in Italy. I’ll text you the address as soon as we’re done talking. There’s a phone number as well, but I wouldn’t call if I were you. The one time I spoke to him, he seemed rather skittish about discussing the accident. You’re better off showing up to see if he’ll talk to you in person.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
I hung up and glanced at Annette. “You’re not going to like this, but there isn’t an investigator by the name of Reginald Thompson.”
Chapter 14
Annette
The rest of the week flew by. After the day we had lunch in Westbridge, Edward informed me that he had a new address for Victor Thibeau. He thought I would be ready to jump on a plane and follow the lead, but something held me back.
Finding out there was no investigator by the name of Reginald Thompson had spooked me like nothing else had. Someone was trying to manipulate me in some way, and I had no idea why. Maybe searching for Victor Thibeau wasn’t a good plan after all. A part of me wondered if looking for him had ended in that disastrous incident with my aunt.
She was still in a coma. We were all concerned about that, and I had recently visited her in the hospital with Edward. We learned that the doctors had been discussing advanced directives and end-of-life plans with my uncle. She had swelling in her brain from the fall, but there was a procedure that would relieve the pressure. All of this scared me, and Edward and I both made it clear we wanted them to continue to give her the best care possible, and they assured us that chances were good she would pull through.
Even though I didn’t remember her or what happened that day, other memories were starting to resurface, so it had to be just a matter of time before everything else came back. At least, I hoped that would be the case. I was getting little flashes here and there, glimpses into the life I once had. For instance, after Edward and I returned from Westbridge, I remembered running through the village with him, hand-in-hand, chasing a stray dog so we could help him. We were young, probably no more than eleven or twelve, but we were both so happy and full of life.
Some things made me laugh, while others sobered me a great deal. I had a glimpse of the moment Edward announced to his parents that I’d accepted his proposal. It had already been arranged, so it was no surprise. Even so, his father smiled, but his mother had looked extremely disappointed, and the look in her eyes made my breath catch. I’d wanted her approval back then, and I’d never received it. She’d been nice to me lately, so I was thankful for that, but I couldn’t get rid of the feeling associated with that memory. I would just have to do my best to move on from it.
I finally finished the journal, but I was still no closer to figuring out what happened to my mother or if Leo had been a part of my life after I married Edward.
Nearly a week had passed since the trip to Nice, and Edward and I were driving to the country church, eager to connect spiritually in some way. I had a list of questions I’d copied from my journal, and I’d tucked the slip of paper in my Bible.
Roberto parked our vehicle, and he and the others from our team followed us into the church together. We found seats near the back and stood as a man up front led everyone in a hymn. There were announcements after that and a few more hymns. By the time Pastor Arquette got up to speak, I was feeling a little antsy though I wasn’t sure why.
“Please turn to 2 Corinthians 5:21.” He glanced down at the Bible perched on top of the pulpit, staring at it for a long moment, and then he spoke. “For our sake He made Him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.” He cleared his throat and scanned the audience as if waiting for our full attention. “Many of you are wondering how this passage could be true since Jesus never sinned. 1 Peter 1:19 refers to Christ as the spotless lamb, and 2 Peter 2:22 says that He never sinned, nor was any guile found in his mouth, so let me explain what it’s referring to. The Father treated Jesus as if He’d committed every sin carried out by every person who will believe, even though He was completely innocent.” Pastor Arquette paused as he contemplated what he would say next. “When God looks at those who put their faith in Him, He only sees the righteousness of Christ. That, my friends, is the doctrine of substitution, and it’s one of the most beautiful things you will ever find in scripture. In fact, it’s the heart of the gospel.”
I glanced over and saw Edward sitting attentively, a grave expression on his face. As Pastor Arquette continued to speak, I felt this pull to put my trust in the Lord, to give Him my life and anything else He asked for. It was as if He was slowly changing my heart and making me long for the peace He offered.
Pastor Arquette closed with Ephesians 2:8-9. “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”
It was then that I realized I could not clean up my own life as I had originally thought. Only God could since salvation couldn’t be earned by doing works. I could put my faith in Him, but it was only through His grace that I would find a relationship with Him. Realizing that brought so much relief because it seemed impossible to be worthy of salvation.
After the service, Edward and I spoke with Pastor Arquette privately, and he answered some of my questions. Edward had only one. “Pastor Arquette, I used to believe, but I fell away, and it’s been a long time since I’ve even considered my standing before God. What do I do?”
The pastor smiled kindly. “You repent and ask for forgiveness. Put yo
ur trust in Him now. Beg Him to show you His mercy and grace, and He will shower you with His love.”
On the ride home, we were both quiet and contemplative. It had been a lot to take in, and we both seemed to understand that stepping forward in faith was a big decision, one we weren’t sure we were ready to make yet.
I felt that ache again—the one I had whenever I thought about my mother—and I knew it was time to pursue that lead in Italy. I’d been afraid. Afraid of what I would find when we got there. Afraid that pursuing this piece of the puzzle would put me in more danger. But, in the end, I was most afraid of never finding out what happened to her, and I didn’t think I could live with that. I had to go. There was no other choice.
Edward scheduled a flight on Tuesday, and as we sat on the plane, holding hands, we were both exceptionally quiet. Edward finally broke the ice. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Yes. Just a little nervous. What if he won’t talk to us?”
Whenever I’d been anxious of late, Edward always jumped in with an encouraging or uplifting word, but this time he remained silent and appeared to think about what to say for several moments. He nodded slowly as if coming to a decision. “We can’t control what Victor Thibeau will do, but we can pray about it.”
I glanced at him quickly, surprised at his response. “That wasn’t how I expected you to answer.”
“What did you think I would say?”
“That you would force him to talk or something like that.”
“Even if I could force him to speak, I can’t make him tell the truth. He was the only one there at the time your mother fell overboard, so there’s no one to confirm or deny anything he says.”
“I know. It’s just hard because I want to understand why I feel this ache…why I feel this sadness when I think about her.”
Edward let out a sigh. “I’m not really sure where I stand with God yet, but I know we need His help with this, and I don’t think He will mind us coming to Him.”
I nodded, and Edward led us in a short prayer asking God to reveal the truth and to protect us from those who would seek to harm us. I felt much better after He prayed, and though I wasn’t sure where I stood with God either, I still sensed a pull to put my trust in Him.
Our flight wasn’t long, and we eventually landed in Pisa and then took a car into Tuscany where the bed-and-breakfast was located. I prayed silently the entire trip, and by the time we finally arrived, I was ready to deal with whatever answers I would receive.
We pulled up to a large beige villa with smaller cottages on the premises, surrounded by a beautiful green vineyard. We got out of the car and walked to the main villa. Once inside, Roberto told the woman at the front desk that we were there to speak to Victor Thibeau.
“He lives in the cottage closest to this one,” she said. “You’re welcome to knock on his door.”
“Thank you,” Edward said.
How could that be so easy? I had half-expected her to ask a bunch of questions and tell us he was unavailable. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to know who we were. We walked the short distance to a small cottage that had green shutters and vines growing up the side of the house. Roberto knocked, and I held my breath as we all waited.
The door swung open and a man with salt and pepper hair peered out at us. “Can I help you?” And then he did a double take. “Prince Edward?” His eyes wandered to me, and the blood drained from his face. “You look…just like Margaret…your mother.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.”
“There’s a striking resemblance.” His hand trembled, and he quickly shoved it in his pocket as if not wanting us to see how our arrival had affected him. “Forgive me, I didn’t realize… For as long as I lived in Calais, I’ve never had the honor of making your acquaintance.” He bowed his head slightly.
Edward nodded in acknowledgment. “We’re here because my wife has a few questions about what happened to her mother. We were hoping you would give us a few minutes of your time.”
He hesitated, and it was clear he didn’t like the idea, but I could see the moment he relented. His eyes filled with compassion, and he ran a hand over his jaw, letting out a breath. “Of course, but give me a few minutes.” He chuckled uneasily. “The house is in disorder. I didn’t anticipate who would be showing up on my doorstep today.”
“Take your time,” Edward said. “We’ll wait.”
He shut the door, and I glanced at Edward. “That went okay, I think.” I lowered my voice. “He was pretty shocked when he saw me.”
“Seeing you must bring it all back.”
Not more than a minute later, Victor opened the door again and gestured for us to come inside. Edward and I followed, and we asked Roberto and the others to wait outside since the matter was a very personal one. He showed us into a family room, and Edward and I sat on the couch.
Victor folded his hands and rested them on one knee. “What can I answer for you today.”
“I want to know how it happened,” I said. “I need to understand how she fell into the water.”
His brows pinched together as if the conversation troubled him greatly, and he cleared his throat, glancing away. “It was a beautiful day—the weather was perfect, actually. I’d done a safety check that morning and everything on the yacht was functioning properly. Not long before it happened, we had anchored and were looking at a school of dolphins as they swam by. Your mother was very excited. She had her phone out and was snapping pictures. She was laughing and squealing and pointing to them like it was the best thing she’d ever seen.” He bit down on his bottom lip. “And then she leaned over the railing, and she must have leaned too far because she just…fell over.”
That wasn’t anything more than what my father had told me. “Was she wearing a life jacket?”
He nodded quickly as if he’d been waiting for this question. “Yes, of course, she had one on, but it was in the way, so she took it off before she leaned—”
“Wait. Back up,” Edward said. “Why would she risk taking off her life jacket, especially if she was leaning over the railing?”
Victor shrugged. “I don’t know her motives, but I’m assuming she never thought she would fall.”
“Did you warn her?” I asked.
“I did as she started to lean over, but it was too late.”
Something about this didn’t feel right. I sensed he’d shared this information many times before, and he probably had since he’d spoken with the police. “For a woman who loved the water so much, I don’t understand why she wouldn’t know how to swim or least tread water.”
“The ocean waves can be rough,” he said, “even for someone who can swim.”
That was a reasonable conclusion, but I still didn’t like it. “What was she like?”
He smiled, but he wouldn’t meet our gaze. “She was a very beautiful woman…like you.” He rushed to speak. “We didn’t know each other, of course, but I would have liked to know her better.”
Something about the way he said that made me pause. There was too much emotion radiating off of him, but that could have been because he felt responsible even if it wasn’t his fault.
“It must be difficult to talk about,” I said. “To have to relive it all again.”
He swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
Suddenly, I needed a moment to pull myself together because it felt like a crushing weight pushed down on my chest. I didn’t remember her, but I wanted to. Was that an emotion I’d had growing up? “Can I use your restroom, please?”
“Yes, it’s down the hall, first door on your left.”
“Thank you.” I got up and walked down the hall until I came to the bathroom. Once inside, I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes looked tired and sad, and an emptiness surrounded me as if I knew deep down that having these answers weren’t going to fix the ache in my gut.
The sound of movement in the room across the hall caught my atten
tion, and I stilled so I could listen better. Victor hadn’t mentioned someone else was here, but then again, he wasn’t obligated to tell us who lived with him. I heard the door open, but whoever it was, didn’t step into the hallway. Slowly, I opened my door and stared into the face of a woman who looked just like me, or more precisely, I looked just like her but a couple of decades younger.
“Mother?” I gaped at her, not able to believe what I was seeing. “Is it really you?”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she put a hand over her mouth as if trying to hold back her emotion. She nodded quickly. “Yes. The day has finally come. I never thought…” She trailed off. “You’re so beautiful.”
“I can’t believe you’re here. Everyone thinks you’re dead.”
There were footsteps in the hallway and Edward appeared. “Annette, what’s going on? I heard talking.” He must have seen my expression because he turned to look at my mother, and his eyebrows flew up. “What? It’s not possible…”
“I’m afraid it is,” she said.
Victor walked up behind him, looking guilt-ridden and embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like this. We discussed it, and Margaret didn’t want me to tell you, but it seems…” He glanced at my mother.
“I couldn’t go through with it,” she said. “I couldn’t let her walk out that door without at least talking to her.”
“Why don’t we all sit down?” Edward asked. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation in the hallway.”
Victor nodded. “I agree. Please follow me.”
We all found our way back to the family room and took our respective seats. My mother cleared her throat and glanced at me. “I know this must be a shock to you.”
I shook my head. “Nothing shocks me anymore. After what I’ve been through…” I wiped a stray tear from my eye.
“Annette has amnesia,” Edward said. “She doesn’t have any recollection of you when she was a child.”
The Prince's Bewildered Bride (The Blushing Brides Book 5) Page 14