Chapter 62

“How’s Madame Julie?” Harrison asked as he took Luc’s overcoat.

“She’s fine, Harrison.”

The butler waited. When Luc didn’t say any more, he looked surprised.

There was an impatient shuffle behind Harrison. Mattie stood in the kitchen hallway, the girls hovering anxiously.

“And?” Harrison prompted, adding, “…sir?”

“And…” Luc paused, shrugged, and looked around at everyone. Then, he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. Face breaking into a smile so huge it should’ve hurt, he said, “I’ve a son, Harrison.”

Reaching into his inside pocket, he brought out one of the cigars he’d bought in the Gift Shop before leaving the hospital. They were wrapped in blue cellophane. It’s a Boy! in bright blue script. He handed it to the old man.

Harrison took it from him, and beamed. The butler didn’t smoke but, in this moment, it didn’t matter. “Congratulations, Master Luc.”

Mattie sighed and the maids began to laugh.

“Mattie, do you want a cigar, too?” Luc put his hand into his pocket again, looking at the others. Lottie? Anyone?”

Mattie said something and laughed, too, and shook her head before going down the hall. The others followed her back to the kitchen.

“Mademoiselle Merry’s been asking for her mother,” Harrison said.

“I hope you relayed Madame Julie’s message to her.”

Luc still marveled how composed Julie had been the night before.

“Is she awake yet?”

Harrison shook his head.

“I’ll talk to her a little later, then,” he promised, hoping the child wouldn’t ask too many questions this time. He decided he’d better take time to formulate her expected answers before seeing her. “I suppose I need to tell Michel, too.”

He looked toward the stairs and his brother’s bedroom.

“Master Michel woke a little after you left. He’s in the study.”

As Harrison placed his coat in the foyer closet, Luc walked to the study door. Knocking, he went in at Michel’s call.

His brother was standing before the fireplace, staring into the fire. He appeared fascinated by the way the logs were being consumed by the flames. In one hand, he held a glass filled with amber liquid, taking a drink from it as he looked over at Luc.

“A little early for that, isn’t it? Didn’t you learn anything last night?”

“Diet Pepsi, mon frère.” Michel raised glass. “That’s all. I felt the need for something dark this morning.”

He set the glass on the mantel and studied Luc quietly, biting his lower lip.

“I suppose I should thank you for saving my life last night.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Luc said positively.

“Although I do wonder why you did it,” Michel went on, as if he hadn’t spoken. “As much as we hate each other, why keep me alive?”

“Who’d I have to insult if I got rid of you?” Luc laughed.

Michel accepted that with a nod. “Harrison told me you took Julie to the hospital. Did the blessed event come about all right?”

“Just fine. Julie’s resting. I’m going back to the hospital a little later. I merely came home to change clothes and shave.”

“And is the—”

“Just a minute,” Luc interrupted his question, not wanting to talk about the baby yet.

While waiting for Gabriel’s birth, he’d made the momentous decision to separate himself from his family, but he’d also decided something else. He wanted to get that out of the way before he shared news of his son with his brother.

“I’ve something to say.”

Michel took a deep breath. “All right. Go ahead. Whatever it is, I probably deserve it.”

Luc didn’t answer.

“So?” He looked a little wary, but made an agreeing gesture. “Well?”

With a deep breath, Luc took a step toward him. Though Michel didn’t move away, he immediately tensed.

Good God, does he think I’m going to hit him? Why shouldn’t he? I’ve certainly done it enough.

“Michel, I’m sorry for every insult, slur, and physical hurt I’ve ever given you. Can you forgive me?”

Whatever Michel expected, it obviously wasn’t that statement. Mouth dropping open, he stared at Luc Then he looked past him to the still-open door.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were my brother. Did you happen to see him in the hall? Tall guy, red hair, hates me?”

“Knock it off,” Luc snapped. “I’m serious.”

“And you think I’m not?” Michel studied him a moment. “After eighteen years of pounding me into the ground at every opportunity, you waltz in here and ask me to forgive and forget? Why? What kind of trick is this? And if it’s not a trick…what makes you think I can?”

“Because I’m attempting to turn over a new leaf.”

“I don’t understand.” Michel truly looked as if he didn’t. “Why? Why now?”

“Because my beautiful, determined, hard-headed little wife believes in me and thinks I’m worth sticking with, and because I now have a child to be an example for.”

“My God.” Michel stared at him as if he’d started raving. “Is that all it took? Just finding a good woman and having a couple of kids?” He laughed. “In that case I wish it’d happened sooner. Sure would’ve saved me a helluva lot of black eyes and loosened teeth.”

“I’m serious, damn it.” In spite of understanding Michel’s disbelief, Luc struggled not to lose his temper. “Mark agrees I might need some professional guidance…”

He hated saying that to Michel, but being able to was going to be part of his new life, he realized. May as well start now.

“May need?” Michel asked and dramatically ducked, hands up protectively.

Any other time that would’ve earned Michel a pounding then and there.

Luc didn’t move. “To help me control my temper.”

Michel’s laugh was a little ironic as he straightened.

“Think your professional will give group rates? I’ve got extra baggage, too, you know. Why else would I keep myself chained to a little round heels like Clarice, practically begging her to make a fool of me again and again? Even with my own brother?”

“Michel, please.” Luc didn’t want to go into that. Not just now. “Let’s not—”

“So do I have a niece or a nephew?” Mercifully, Michel changed the subject.

He walked back to the fireplace and picked up his glass again. He gestured at Luc’s breast pocket.

“Is that a cigar I see?”

In reply, Luc extracted and held out the second cigar. Michel took it, looking at the blue ribbon tied around it and at the words on the ribbon. He smiled and Luc thought he’d never seen such an expression on a man’s face before, not realizing it mirrored his own as he’d stood looking through the nursery window at his son.

“I’ve got to take a shower and change clothes and then go back to the hospital. You can ride with me if you’d like.” He made the suggestion a peace offering, a small olive branch.

Michel and me in the same car, on a twenty-minute ride to town? If we survive, that will be a miracle.

“Oui.” Michel’s rely was mild. Obviously, he intended to play nice, also. “I’d like that.”

“Thirty minutes?”

“I’ll wait right here,” Michel told him.