A Vow to Secure His Legacy

His parents had died when he was a baby so he’d been brought up by his strict grandparents. A psychologist might say he’d rebelled against their outmoded rules and restrictions. But Thierry was pretty sure he’d simply been born with a thirst for adventure.

‘We weren’t big on family traditions.’ Imogen’s voice was soft. ‘Except spending Christmas Day together, and Easter. Even in the last couple of years the three of us would have an Easter egg hunt in the garden.’

‘Your mother too?’

‘Of course. She loved chocolate.’

Thierry tried and failed to imagine his grand-mère hunting for eggs in their exquisitely kept grounds.

‘That sounds like fun. I’ve never been on an Easter egg hunt.’

‘You haven’t?’ Her face swung towards him again. ‘It’s not a French tradition?’

‘For some. But not in the Girard family.’ Easter had meant his best behaviour and, of course, formal clothes. He couldn’t recall a time when he hadn’t been expected to wear a tie to dinner. No wonder yanking his top button undone was always the first thing he did on leaving the office.

He saw her hand swipe the leg of her jeans again. ‘You make your family sound a little daunting.’ She paused. ‘Are they?’ Was that concern in her voice?

Daunting? He supposed his grandparents were, with their formality and strict adherence to old ways, but for all that he loved them.

‘They’ll welcome you with open arms. They’ve all but given up on the idea of me bringing home a bride. But you needn’t worry for now. My grandparents spend the summer at their villa on the south coast. And my cousins, aunts and uncles live elsewhere.’

‘You share a house with your grandparents?’ Surprise tinged her tone. Who could blame her? Until four years ago he’d lived his own life, visiting the Girard estate only occasionally. But it was easier to manage the estate and the family’s diverse commercial interests from there since that was where the main offices were located.

‘You think it unusual for a thirty-four-year-old?’ His smile was tight as he remembered how reluctant that move back home had been. ‘My grandfather had a stroke a few years ago and they needed me. But don’t worry; we’ll be quite private. There’s plenty of space.’ Even when his grandparents were in residence the place was so big he could go for weeks without seeing them.

Thierry considered explaining to Imogen just what to expect. But she’d been pale today, admitting to a little nausea, which to his astonishment had evoked a visceral pang of possessiveness in him. As if it made the idea of their child suddenly more concrete. She’d been nervous too. Better not to overload her with details. He couldn’t guess whether she’d be excited or retreat mentally, as she’d done a few times when unsure of herself.

‘Why don’t you close your eyes and rest? We’ll be travelling for a while.’

* * *

The sun still shone brightly when Imogen woke. Her head lolled against the backrest. She hadn’t slept well lately but the rhythm of the car had lulled her into relaxation.

She blinked. The rhythm had changed, as if the road surface was different. When she looked through the windscreen she realised they’d left the main autoroute. They were in what looked like a park. Great swathes of grass with tall, mature trees dotted the scene. They clustered close to the road.

She frowned. Though paved, it was a narrow road with no lines marked.

‘Are we almost there?’

‘Almost. You’ll see it soon.’

It? Imogen felt befuddled, shreds of sleep still clinging. Presumably he meant the town where he...

She gasped as the car topped a rise and the vista opened up. Her eyes popped.

‘You live in a castle?’ It couldn’t be...but the road they were on—a private road, she realised belatedly—headed straight for the next rise where the sun shone off massive walls of darkest honey gold.

She swung around to Thierry but he looked unmoved, as if driving home to a medieval fortification was an everyday occurrence.

She sat back in her seat, her brain buzzing.

‘I don’t suppose your place is off to the side somewhere? An estate manager’s house or something?’

His mouth quirked up in a smile, and he slanted an amused look at her. She felt its impact deep inside as her internal organs began to liquefy.

He only has to smile and you lose it.

No wonder you let him convince you to go along with this absurd idea.