For the first time she found herself curious about Lance’s stepsister. Did she elicit that same kind of worship from him?
The Galerie Bouffard in Rennes stayed open until nine-thirty on Thursday nights. Lance made his way through the crowded store from the book section to the camera department.
After explaining what he needed to the employee, the man showed him several upgrades of the camera Andrea had been using. It didn’t take Lance long to choose something state-of-the-art to replace the one his horse had smashed to pieces.
He included a pack of film with his purchase, then asked for directions to the infant department. He’d never shopped for baby clothes in his life, but learning Andrea was expecting made him want to do something to help her celebrate. Since he didn’t know if she was carrying a boy or girl, he decided to stick with white and yellow, both safe colors, the assistant had assured him.
By the time the young female employee had shown him everything, he left the store with half a dozen little outfits and two baby blankets in those colors, a baby book and a Fifi the poodle-in-the-box that played a French tune, all gift wrapped. Among the ribbons the clerk tied three rattles he’d picked out.
As she handed him the bag of packages, she winked at him. “Your new baby’s lucky to have a father like you.”
She’d made a wrong assumption, but he liked the sound of it. “I’m the one who’s lucky.”
“Don’t be a stranger now. Babies grow.”
They did indeed. Lance found himself looking forward to watching Andrea blossom. During that moment in the lake when he’d helped her to the surface, he’d felt a quickening as the rich contours of her body pressed against him. Her imprint still lingered, causing him to think thoughts he hadn’t entertained for a long time.
“Merci, mademoiselle.”
After emerging from the ascenseur, he made his way to the main doors of the store.
“Eh bien, if it isn’t Lance Malbois, you handsome devil. Geoff didn’t tell anyone you were home on leave.”
He looked back over his shoulder to discover Helene Dupuis, the wife of his father’s best friend. She was a good person, but a gossip. Lance had hoped to keep his homecoming a secret for a while, but bumping into her had dashed that idea.
“Bonsoir, Helene. Comment ça va?”
“I’m very well, and I have to tell you I’m thrilled to see you are, too. Geoff worries about you. It’s no wonder he’s been so sick even Yves and I have been barred from dropping in,” she chided.
Henri knew what he was doing. Though she meant well, a visit from Helene would have been too exhausting. “He’s getting better now. By next week he’ll want to see both of you.”
“Yves will be delighted to hear it. How long can we expect you to remain this time?”
Lance decided to tell the truth since it would come out anyway. “I’ve retired from the service.”
“You’re home for good?”
“Oui.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh—I must give a party!”
He shook his head. “That’s very nice of you, but no parties. I have too much work ahead. Now if you’ll excuse me. Papa’s waiting.”
“But of course. You go to him, and we’ll see you soon.”
“À bientôt, Helene.”
“I know someone else who’s going to be ecstatic at the news you’re home,” she called after him. But he pretended not to hear as he strode around the corner to his car. Corinne was like all unpleasant things one had to deal with on occasion.
As he was putting his packages on the passenger seat, the streetlight reflected in one of the baby rattles. It drew his thoughts back to Andrea who might or might not be asleep when he returned. He hoped she was still awake since he was eager to see her reaction when she opened her presents.
He couldn’t get back to the château soon enough, and raced up the stairs to the third floor two at a time.
When the housekeeper came in at eight to take away the dinner tray, she brought a small, battery operated radio for Andrea.
“Lance said you were tired. Since this room hasn’t been wired for television, he thought you might like to listen to some music from his transistor,” she explained before setting it on the bedside table.
Lance thought of everything. Had he told the staff she was pregnant? If so, Brigitte was being discreet. She was also amazing. Andrea would give anything to speak French the way the older woman spoke English.
“That was very thoughtful of both of you. By the way, how is Geoff tonight?”
“Doing better than yesterday.”
“I’m relieved to hear it.”
“If you need me, call me on four.”
“I will. Merci.“ It was one of the basic words Andrea had picked up so far.
After a few minutes of playing around with the radio, she found a music station and lay back against the pillow to listen. It was fun to hear songs sung in French, even if she didn’t understand the words.
While she studied the paintings on the walls, she smiled to herself, remembering Lance’s tenderness at the doctor’s.
Deep in thought over the revelations of this day, she lost track of time. When she heard a knock on the door, she was surprised to see that her watch said nine forty-five. The idea that it might be Lance on the other side caused her pulse to speed up.
“Come in.”
Her breath caught the second their eyes met for an intense moment.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
“The truth,” he commanded.
“I honestly feel better. If you want proof, ask Brigitte. She came for my tray and will tell you I ate all my roll and drank half the juice. So far I’ve kept it down.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
After shutting the door, he walked toward her carrying several shopping bags and handed her the smaller one.
“Go ahead and look inside. If it isn’t what you want, I’ll return it.”
Intrigued, Andrea sat up against the carved headboard and reached inside to discover a new camera and film. He’d already been to town for one! She couldn’t believe it.
“You didn’t need to do this,” she said, pulling it out of its box. There were instructions in four languages including English. She examined all the features. “This is perfect, but it’s much more expensive than mine.”
