Having the Frenchman's Baby

“Not good. I’ve been sleeping in the ante-room for the last couple of nights.”

“Now that I’m back, we’ll take turns. Since I’m going over there in a few minutes, I’ll plan to sleep there tonight.”

“I’m glad you’re home,” Emma admitted in a tremulous voice.

“He’s been waiting for you to get back. It’s going to cheer him up so much to see you.”

Tears welled in Rachel’s eyes. “What does Dr Lloyd say?”

“His oxygen level is still too low, and the pain on his right side is worse. There’s also been some new swelling in his lower legs where the clots first started.”

“Oh, Emma—I can’t bear it. Don’t you think he needs to be in the hospital?”

By now Emma’s pale blue eyes were swimming in liquid. “He refuses to go. You know how he is. He talked the doctor and Uncle John into arranging for round-the-clock nursing care. They’re using the bedrooms on the third floor.”

“What about the house staff?”

“Grandfather asked Dad to be in charge and make certain they get paid on time.”

The two of them stared knowingly at each other. “The tension between them must be awful.”

Emma nodded. She looked distressed and tired. As for Rachel…

“I brought you a couple of things.” She reached in her bag and put another bottle of Riesling on the table.

“Ooh,” Emma said, wiping her eyes. “The real thing “

“Yes. I brought you something else too.” She handed her the cookbook.

Emma opened the cover. “An eighteen ninety-two first edition!” she exclaimed.

Rachel smiled to hear the delight in her voice. “I’ve read through it, and some of those recipes sound marvelous.”

“I’m sure they are! Thank you, Rachel. You’ll have to help me translate.” They hugged once more. “I can’t wait to try some of them out. That sauerkraut recipe was fantastic!”

“I thought it was. It’ll be even better with this Riesling.”

Emma put the bottle in the crook of her arm. “All I have to do is get Dad’s approval. You know how he is about changes in the menu.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any problems after he samples my gifts for him. I was hoping he’d be here, but since he isn’t, I’m going to Grandfather’s right now.”

“Not so fast,” their father interjected.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Morning, Emma.”

Rachel turned to see their tall, good-looking father walk toward them dressed in a royal blue sport shirt and beige trousers.

Though he was in his sixties, he still looked fit and had a good head of hair. The gray flecks mixed among the black gave him a distinguished appearance.

“So you’re back.”

She nodded. “Late last night.”

His gaze flicked to Emma. “Have you gone over tonight’s menu yet?”

“It’s already done. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. See you later.”