Having the Frenchman's Baby

“I agree, but it has taken me years to figure it out. Too long. Oh, Rachel, I’m so glad you called me to come. It gave me this precious time with Grandfather.”

Rachel wiped the tears off her sister’s face. “He loved you so much and died happy because you came. I can tell you he always grieved over the divorce and our father’s inability to understand that you and I should never have been split up.”

“Well, we’re together now.”

“And we’ll never let anything separate us again, even if we work thousands of miles away from each other.”

A look of compassion entered Rebecca’s blue eyes. “So now tell me about the man you’re in love with.”

Rachel needed no urging to reveal it all. When she’d finished, her sister got up from the bed to look down at her.

“I don’t care if his ex-wife lies in that coma for another ten years. Luc has a right to know he’s going to be a father again.

“With my disease, I doubt I’ll ever be able to have children. They’re a gift, Rachel. You don’t know how lucky you are.

“Go to him and tell him the truth. That’s all you need to do. The rest will take care of itself. He helped make that baby. You can’t hold that back from him. If Grandfather were still alive, he’d tell you the same thing.”

Rachel nodded. Her eyes darted to the Black Beauty book he’d given her. She’d brought it from the flat to show him she still had her treasured gift.

She reached for it. “Do you still have your book, Rebecca?”

Her sister gasped softly. “I—I brought Sleeping Beauty with me when I stopped in New York for my passport. I don’t know why I did. It’s at Stephanie’s.”

Rachel smiled sadly. “I think we both wanted to feel closer to him. But you know something? He gave us the wrong books.

“You’re the true equestrian in the family. I’m afraid I was always dreaming of a far-away kingdom and a prince who would take me to his castle and love me and only me for ever.”

She set it on the bed. “Now it’s time to put childish things away.”

“You’re right, sister dear,” Rebecca said softly. “We have a funeral to help plan.”

With their arms around each other’s waists, they left the bedroom in search of Emma.

When it came time to put a flower on their grandfather’s silver-blue casket, Rachel sought Rebecca’s gaze. By tacit agreement they both got up from the chairs. Clasping hands, they walked beneath the graveside canopy to his final resting place.

“We’re together, Grandfather,” Rachel whispered.

“You don’t have to worry about your two beauties any more,” Rebecca said in a hushed voice. “Be happy with Grandmother.”

Tears trembled on Rachel’s lashes. “When you see our mother, tell her we love her.”

Rebecca squeezed her hand before they both placed a white rose on the lid of the coffin.

Maybe it was because they were twins and could read each other’s minds. Whatever it was, no words needed to be said for them to head to the black limo they’d come in.

The driver started up the motor and drove them back to the mansion.

“Look—” Rachel cried out when she saw a huge spray of pink roses on a stand in the dining room. “Those must have arrived too late to go to the cemetery with the other flowers.”

“They’re absolutely breathtaking.” Rebecca walked over to read the enclosed card.

She took so long, Rachel said, “Whoever sent them must have been a very close friend of Grandfather’s.”

Wordlessly Rebecca handed it to her.

Mystified by her behavior, Rachel read the inscription.

Rachel— If Louis were still alive, he would have wanted to send these flowers in remembrance of a friendship forged through a mutual love of the fruit of the vine. Ironic that it took place during a time of war.