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  She went to the door of her room and opened it silently. Someone was going downstairs to answer the door. She guessed it would be Louise. Madame Lefevre and Colette had retired several hours ago. She peered at her wrist watch on the bedside table. It was half past two. What in heaven’s name was Alain doing?

  Downstairs, the door was opened and there was a swift interchange of voices.

  ‘Alain!’

  ‘Hello, Mother.’

  ‘But what are you doing here?’

  ‘Is Ryan here?’

  Silence. Then: ‘Don’t you think you’d better tell me what is going on? Why should—Ryan be here?’

  The door closed. ‘For heaven’s sake, Mother, if she is here, tell me!’

  ‘Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, she is.’

  ‘Oh, thank God!’ There was an overwhelming sense of relief in his words. ‘Where is she? I want to see her.’

  ‘At this time of night? Alain—’ His mother’s words were a protest, but Ryan could hear her husband mounting the stairs and panic broke out all over her. She swiftly closed the bedroom door, and hurried to the bed, sliding between the sheets and closing her eyes. But her heart was beating rapidly and anyone hearing her quickened breathing would know immediately that she was shamming.

  ‘Which room did you put her in?’ She could hear Alain’s voice outside, and his mother saying:

  ‘Alain, are you out of your mind? Ryan will be asleep. Don’t you think you’ve done enough to that poor child?’

  ‘Which room?’ Alain was opening doors and Ryan could have told Louise that she was wasting her time. He reached her door and opened it, switching on a lamp. Ryan’s eyes opened and he stared into them, and then nodded heavily. ‘This one.’ He turned to his mother. ‘You don’t mind if I stay, I suppose?’

  Louise, holding her silk wrapper closely about her, looked helplessly at Ryan. ‘My dear, what do you want me to do?’

  Ryan propped herself up on one elbow, but before she could reply, Alain interposed: ‘Just leave us alone for a while, Mother, please. I want to talk to Ryan.’

  ‘But couldn’t it have waited until morning—’ his mother began, and Alain uttered an impatient expletive.

  ‘Till morning?’ he echoed. ‘My God, have you any idea what kind of day I’ve had? What kind of night I had last night? You talk about waiting until the morning as if this were a social visit, instead of the end of a search to find my wife!’

  Louise drew herself up to her full height. ‘And why should you wish to find your wife, Alain?’ she demanded. ‘I understood you asked her to leave.’

  Alain raked his fingers through his hair. ‘I did. That’s right, I did. But that was when—’ He broke off. ‘Mother, this is between Ryan and me. Let me finish it!’

  ‘Ryan was most distressed when she arrived here,’ persisted Louise steadily. ‘Why should I assume that she wants to speak to you? She left you a note telling you she would write to you in a few days. Why couldn’t you have waited? Why have you come here, persecuting the girl? What right have you to burst in here at this time of night and demand to speak to her?’

  ‘Louise—’

  Ryan felt bound to say something, but Alain was staring at his mother. ‘My God, you want your pound of flesh, don’t you?’ he muttered. ‘All right, you shall have it. I’m here because I love her, and I’ve been almost out of my mind since she disappeared! Does that answer your question?’

  A faint twitching assailed Louise’s lips. ‘I see,’ she murmured, not without some satisfaction, but Ryan was staring at Alain incredulously.

  ‘Wh—what did you say?’ she breathed, and Alain looked angrily at his mother.

  ‘Now, will you leave us alone?’ he demanded, and Louise slowly nodded her head.

  ‘If that’s what Ryan wants,’ she agreed.

  Ryan was upright in the bed, the sheet drawn up to her chin, her eyes wide and disbelieving. But she nodded, and Louise gave a small sigh and withdrew.

  After she had gone, Alain stood for a few moments staring at Ryan, and then he turned away and took off his overcoat. He tossed it carelessly on to the table by the window, and said: ‘In God’s name, Ryan, why did you do it?’

  Ryan’s voice, when she found it, was croaky and unsteady. ‘I—I thought it was what you wanted.’

  ‘Why?’ He unbuttoned the jacket of the dark suede suit he had worn the day they got married. ‘Because of what happened two nights ago? Did I frighten you? I didn’t intend to. But you make me—’ He broke off. ‘Well?’

  Ryan sighed. ‘That was only incidental. I didn’t leave you because I was afraid of you. I would have left you anyway.’

  A spasm of pain crossed his face, and in the lamplight she could see how tired and and strained he was looking. ‘I see. Had—was it to do with Howard?’

  ‘Howard? You mean—David Howard?’

  He took a menacing step towards her. ‘Oh God, of course I mean David Howard!’

  ‘No. No, of course not.’

  ‘But he took you to Anciens, didn’t he? He knew where you were going?’

  ‘No.’

  Patently he didn’t believe her. ‘Well, anyway, I think he got more than he bargained for,’ he muttered with satisfaction.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Ryan was anxious now. ‘How—how did you find out David took me into Anciens?’

  ‘Because the Land-Rover broke down on his way back!’ retorted Alain tightly. ‘Have you any idea what I thought—what I imagined when I discovered not only you and the Land-Rover but also Howard had disappeared?’

  Ryan licked her lips. ‘Wh—what happened?’

  Alain flung himself about the room. ‘I got drunk—that’s what happened. Very drunk! I don’t know how much I consumed. It seemed to take a long time for anything to blunt the—the realization that you had gone!’

  ‘Oh, Alain!’ She stared at him helplessly. ‘And—and David?’

  Alain heaved a sigh. ‘I was sure the pair of you had gone away together. When Howard brought the Land-Rover back in the early hours of yesterday morning, I nearly beat the living daylights out of him!’

  ‘Oh, no!’

  Alain shook his head. ‘I was half out of my mind. Can you understand that? It was only when he managed to get out the word Couvrier that I realized he had got Gilles, Vivienne’s stepson, out to tow him back.’

  ‘Is—is he all right?’

  Alain’s lips twisted. ‘I suspect he’s got a broken nose, and no doubt a few bruises he didn’t deserve, but he’ll live.’

  ‘And—and he told you where I had gone?’

  ‘Not exactly, no. But I knew you had very little money, certainly not enough to go to England. I guessed you might come here.’

  ‘To your mother’s!’

  ‘She told you? I guessed she would.’

  ‘And why not? Oh, Alain, she’s been so kind to me.’

  ‘Has she?’ Alain sounded strained. ‘And do you intend to stay here?’

  ‘To—stay—here?’ Ryan moved her shoulders tremblingly.

  Alain came to stand beside the bed, looking down at her. ‘Well?’ he said huskily. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Is—is that what you want me to do?’

  Alain shook his head impatiently. ‘Dear God, Ryan, I have no rights where you are concerned. I forfeited them a couple of months ago.’

  ‘When you made love to me?’

  ‘When I—took your innocence,’ he corrected her quietly.

  Ryan put out a hand and stroked her fingers down his thigh. ‘Why did you come here, Alain? Why didn’t you wait until I wrote to you?’

  Alain’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t stop her caressing fingers. ‘I—I think we should get something straight,’ he muttered unevenly. ‘I had seen you before you came to Bellaise.’

  Ryan’s fingers closed round his leg. ‘You had seen me? How?’

  ‘I went to England—on your father’s instructions—two years ago. I—went to the library where you were working, and I watched you
for a while.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Your father was curious about you. Surely you guessed that. He wanted to know what you were like. I told him!’

  Ryan shook her head. ‘What are you trying to tell me?’

  Alain looked down at her with eyes grown suddenly dark. ‘I knew what your father planned to do, and I agreed.’

  ‘To—to our marriage, you mean?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Alain raked his fingers through his hair again. ‘Oh, I realize it was crazy—crazy! I was far too old for you, and besides, I knew nothing about you. But when you came to Bellaise, I fell in love with you, and I despised myself for doing so.’

  ‘But—but why?’

  ‘Ryan, I’m twenty years older than you are.’ He sighed. ‘Oh, I had it all mapped out in my mind. We were going to get married, and gradually, as you got older, I’d have shown you how I felt. But it didn’t work that way. Everything you did made me aware of you, and because of this I hurt you, continually. I resented the way you made me feel.’ He unloosened his tie and pulled it off. ‘I had had one disastrous marriage, which no doubt my mother has told you about, and I didn’t dare risk ruining our chances of happiness. But you became angry over Vivienne, and I was as jealous as hell over Howard! It was explosive, and it blew up, right in my face,’

  ‘But you asked me to leave!’

  ‘I know I did. What else could I do? I didn’t know whether I would be able to leave you alone after—after that night…’ He shook his head. ‘I had some idea that if you went away for a while, grew up a bit, you might see me differently when I came to find you.’

  ‘And—Vivienne?’

  ‘What about Vivienne?’ He scowled.

  ‘Did—did she compensate you?’

  Alain swore violently. ‘No. No, of course she didn’t—compensate me. All right—’ he shrugged his broad shoulders, ‘once I did spend a lot of time with her. But since that trip to England—since I got to know you—there have been no other women.’ He bent his head. ‘At least—not in the village.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not a celibate, you know. There have been times…’

  Ryan was trembling so much, she could hardly sit still. ‘And now?’

  Alain shifted restlessly. ‘That is up to you.’

  ‘Do you want me to come back?’

  Alain ran a hand round the back of his neck. ‘Of course I do.’ He hesitated. ‘Ryan, could we try it again? Could we try and make it work?’

  Ryan looked up at him for a moment, and then she slid deliberately out of bed, knowing what the sight of her slender body clad only in the lace gown would do to him. ‘We might,’ she essayed slowly. ‘But things would have to be—different.’

  ‘How different?’ His eyes were narrowed.

  Ryan turned to look at him steadily, her heart in her eyes. ‘I should want to share everything with you,’ she murmured. ‘Including—your bed.’

  Alain stared at her for a moment, and then with an exclamation he caught her in his arms, holding her closely against him so that she could feel every vibrant muscle leaping against hers. ‘Do you know what you’re saying?’ he demanded thickly.

  ‘I love you, Alain,’ she whispered huskily, winding her bare arms round his neck. ‘Now please—stop talking and make love to me…’

  * * *

  Hours later, Ryan awoke to find it was morning. For a few moments the events of the night before assumed a dreamlike unreality, and she dared not turn her head in case she found she was alone. But then she realized that a warm body was close to hers in the comfortable bed, and when she did turn to look she found Alain, sound asleep, beside her. He was lying on his back, and she couldn’t resist the impulse to run her hands over his chest and stomach.

  ‘Mmm,’ he murmured lazily, opening his eyes and finding her regarding him. ‘We don’t have to get up yet, do we?’

  Ryan half smiled. ‘I don’t know what your mother will say. She didn’t expect you to come here. You’ll have to talk to her.’

  ‘Nothing would have kept me away,’ he groaned, burying his face in the curve of her neck. ‘But I agree, I will have to talk to her. But later—much later.’

  Ryan sighed, realizing the moment of truth had come. ‘Alain,’ this as he began to caress her, ‘Alain, I have something else to tell you.’

  ‘Can’t it wait?’ he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth, and it was difficult to resist him in this mood.

  ‘No,’ she said firmly, forcing herself not to succumb. ‘Alain—Alain, I’m going to have a baby!’

  For a moment Alain was still, and then he propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her, his eyes dark and disturbing. ‘You are pregnant?’

  Ryan nodded, half anxious at his possible reaction.

  ‘Oh, Ryan!’ He bent his head and kissed her urgently. ‘Was this—was this why you left me?’

  ‘I was afraid,’ she stumbled. ‘I was afraid you would hate me because I would remind you of—of what had happened!

  ‘Oh, Ryan!’ he said again, lowering himself down to her. ‘What a fool I’ve been! Will you forgive me?’

  ‘You’re—you’re not—angry?’

  ‘Angry?’ He gave a snort. ‘Angry? I’m—delighted.’ Then his eyes clouded. ‘But are you?’ He sighed frustratedly. ‘You’re so young! I should have waited—’

  She spread her fingers over his lips to silence him. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she exclaimed. ‘I shall be twenty in two months. Quite old enough to have a husband and family.’

  ‘And—my mother—knows this?’

  Ryan nodded. ‘She guessed. I—I’ve been rather unwell in the mornings.’

  ‘But not this morning?’ he asked, concern drawing his brows together.

  ‘It doesn’t happen until I get up,’ she explained with a smile. Then: ‘Your mother wanted me to stay here. She’s so lonely, Alain. Can’t you—couldn’t you forget—the past?’

  Alain stroked her cheek tenderly. ‘The past was forgotten long ago. But people are proud; they avoid making apologies.’ He smiled. ‘But things are different now. You are here. The ice has been broken. Have no fear—I can afford to be generous now.’

  Ryan had never known happiness could be like this, so wonderfully warming and ecstatic all at the same time. ‘When will we go back to Bellaise?’ she asked.

  Alain stretched lazily. ‘I don’t know. Two—maybe three days. We’ll spend a couple of days with my mother now we’re here.’

  ‘I hoped you’d say that. And maybe—maybe when I have the baby, she could come and stay with us.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ Alain was tolerant. ‘I suppose I must apologize to Howard, too, although I still resent his interfering.’

  Ryan chuckled, loving the way she could touch him without fear of rebuff. ‘You ought to feel grateful to him,’ she said teasingly. ‘If he hadn’t taken me to Anciens—if you hadn’t come to find me—it might have been months before we discovered the truth.

  Alain gave her a wry look. ‘You think so?’ he murmured. ‘You think my son might not have made his presence known before then?’

  And Ryan could not deny the truth of this. Come the vintage, she would still be at Bellaise.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4603-4763-8

  COME THE VINTAGE

  © 1975 Anne Mather

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