He didn’t argue with her, secretly enjoying her independence. “Suit yourself.” Then, because he knew it would freak her out, he opened the inner door, just opposite her bed, and revealed a set of rooms that were the mirror image of hers. “And this is where you’ll find me, if you choose to look.”
She glared at the door as if it done her wrong. “That lock works, right?”
“Indeed it does. But,” he leaned closer to her with a mischievous look on his face, “You have my word that I will never use it unnecessarily, and certainly not to approach you at any time. Unless you ask me to, of course.”
“As if!” she let out with a disbelieving huff.
He laughed outright, happy for the mood-lightening distraction in the face of so much tension and dread. After brushing his lips lightly across her brow, he gently tapped the black pearl on the engagement ring on her left hand, and said, “This is your home for the next two months, my sweet fiancée. Get some rest. We will meet again later, and I will show you around the grounds.”
He left swiftly before she could say anything about him kissing her unnecessarily. And, simply because he knew it would rattle her if he slipped through the adjoining door into his suite, he made a big show of leaving by the main door.
Though Alex was also tired, he had matters to attend to. He would allow himself time for a quick shower, and then it would be time to face his mother.
So distracted was he that he almost bumped into a small figure hovering in the hallway, but sidestepped at the last moment. Any idea that it might be one of the servants evaporated the second the person turned to face him.
It was a little girl, small and fine-boned, with pale skin that had the same ethereal glow as Sofia’s. Her eyes were honey-brown, with golden sparkles. Her hair, pulled back into a ponytail with swooping bangs, was a deep, rich gold that he had seen many times before on William.
Alex’s older brother had taken after their father. Where Alex’s coloring was typical of many southern Frenchmen, with chestnut hair and eyes, William Junior and Senior both had that kiss of gold that had filtered down from some northern ancestor. And now, it had appeared in another generation of Dubois, because there was no doubt in Alex’s mind that this was William and Sofia’s child. The child at the center of the maelstrom that had torn his life apart. The realization that his brother had broken the birth pattern by issuing a female child first almost made him smile. He didn’t.
Those warm brown eyes stared up at him with the audacity of youth, unwavering and questioning. “Are you my Ton Alexandre?” she asked in flawless English.
“Yes, I am,” he responded in French.
She held out a delicate hand. “I’m Willa. Your niece.”
He shook it, noticing how fine the bones felt under his much larger hand. Slender, like her mother’s. The girl was tiny, and from the pictures he’s seen, she was even smaller than Sofia was at Willa’s age.“Enchanté.”
The girl pointed at the door to his suite. “Is your new fiancée in there?”
He shook his head. “No. She has her own suite. The one next to mine.”
Fine brows lifted in a gesture so like Sofia’s it made him shiver. It was clear she was examining him closely. “You look just like the picture in Grandmaman’s study. Only your hair was longer and you were skinnier. But it is you,non?”
Instead of answering such a tough question, he countered with, “Why are you speaking to me in English? You know I’m as French as you, right?”
She shrugged, an eloquent Gallic gesture. “Oh, my papa tells me you haven’t been home since before I was born. I wasn’t sure if you remembered.”
The blend of innocence and cheekiness made him smile. Despite himself, despite what this child represented to him, he found himself liking her. “I remember. But your English is excellent.”
“That’s because I have a new tutor. His name is Martin, and he’s from London. We have classes every day.”
“He’s doing an excellent job,” Alex complimented.
Willa looked pleased. “Okay,bien.”She spun around and began wandering off, as children do when they are bored with the conversation.“Ciao, alors.”
“Ciao,” he said. And now, to meet Maman.
CHAPTER 6
JACYN HAD NEVER HAD a monsoon shower outside of a spa, and she enjoyed this one so much that if the good Lord had determined that it was her destiny to die in there, she would have been content to do so. She’d spent half an hour fiddling with the controls, adjusting the flow and direction, switching from steaming hot to bracing, until her skin glowed. She sniffed and assessed every concoction provided for her—a range of soaps, shampoos, gels, oils and scrubs—like a professional chef visiting the restaurant of a competitor. The scent of the essential oils filled her soul with happiness. From the label, it appeared that the products had been made artisanally, rather than mass-produced, at an address she assumed was nearby.
So the count and his gorgeous wife shopped local.
When she reluctantly stepped out of the shower, only because her skin was beginning to prune, Jacyn wrapped herself in a towel so thick that her fingers almost disappeared into the pile. Once she had dried off, she began toying with even more toiletries that had been left on the marble-topped counter. Body oils, creams, and hair products specific to her hair type, which to her mind was amazing—it certainly wasn’t the kind of thing you found even in the most upscale hotel.
A toothbrush with a gold-plated handle made her roll her eyes. How rich did a person have to be to buy a golden toothbrush? She wondered if, whenNapturally Beautyfulbecame a household name and she was wealthy and famous, such a purchase would even cross her mind.
Maybe justonegolden toothbrush, then.