A Wedding in Provence: From the #1 bestselling author of uplifting feel-good fiction

Antoine held on to her, tightly, as she walked step by limping step. Alexandra realised he was taking almost all her weight but it couldn’t be helped. Being close to him kept her going. She felt almost as if they were the same person.

At last they reached the bottom of the wood where a man was waiting with a battered Citroën Deux Chevaux with its headlights on.

Antoine and the man had a conversation in a dialect too broad for Alexandra to understand. Then Antoine lifted her into the front seat and got in the back with Milou. As they bumped along it occurred to Alexandra that Antoine spoke two sorts of French, one for the drawing room and one for the people on his farm. She had picked up some dialect words when she was working with the builders but she didn’t understand much of what Antoine and his friend had just said, although she recognised the word sanglier, which meant boar.

When they reached the front door of the chateau, Antoine jumped out of the car, ran round to the front and picked her up off the front seat. Then he carried her into the house and sat her in the big hall chair. Milou followed. The two young cats ran out to meet him, delighted to have their leader back home.

David was there. ‘Oh, Lexi! What on earth has happened to you? You’re all mud. And here’s Milou! You horrible dog! You had us all so worried.’

‘Look after her for me, David,’ said Antoine. ‘I must just talk to Hervé and thank Bruno and the men who came with me to search for Alexandra. And then I must telephone Nice, so Stéphie knows that Milou is safe.’ He looked at Alexandra, who was starting to shiver. ‘No need to mention anything else.’

David didn’t hesitate. ‘Let’s get you into the warm,’ he said to Alexandra. ‘Although you may want to have some sort of a wash first. Can you walk?’

‘Give me your arm as far as the loo door. I’ll be fine then.’

She deliberately didn’t look at the mirror over the sink. She didn’t want to know how awful and bedraggled she looked. She just got the worst off with cold water and the towel which would probably bear signs of mud on it forever.

David was waiting for her and helped her through to the kitchen where there was a blazing fire in the range.

‘I put as much wood on it as I could in the hope of getting some hot water,’ said David, helping her over to the chair that was pulled up close to the fire. ‘I don’t suppose I’ve done much for the water, but it’ll warm you if you sit by it.’

She sat down gingerly as her aches and pains began to make themselves felt. David helped her get her shoes and socks off and wrapped her bare feet in a towel.

‘I’ll get your slippers in a minute but I’ll leave the brandy with you while I feed Milou. He must be starving.’

Alexandra drank the brandy that David had poured, relishing the warmth of it as it went down.

‘Right,’ said David, ‘now you need something hot.’ He added more brandy to her glass. ‘What do you fancy? Hot milk? Hot chocolate? Soup would take longer. Toast? Scrambled egg?’

She interrupted him. ‘David? I’ve just remembered. Aren’t you supposed to be looking at art?’

‘I popped back to see if you’d gone out to look for Milou and found your note.’

‘So you abandoned your date?’

‘What’s a date compared to looking after my surrogate child?’

Alexandra suddenly wanted to cry. She knew it was partly the brandy. ‘You can leave me. Your surrogate child will be fine. I’m warm; I have alcohol. And Antoine will look after me.’ She could tell David was tempted. ‘Seriously. I’ve caused so much trouble tonight, people out searching for me and everything. Please don’t make me feel guilty about you, too.’

David considered for what seemed a long time. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely!’ Although she wouldn’t have admitted it, even to herself, she had her own reasons for wanting him out of the way.

He stood looking at her, as if thinking up more reasons why he shouldn’t leave her. ‘I’ll be here early tomorrow. But if you really and truly don’t mind, I will go back.’

‘Good! You’re always getting me out of scrapes, David. I don’t want your social life to suffer because I’ve been a bit of an idiot.’

‘A brave and well-meaning idiot …’

‘Go!’

He kissed her cheek and left.

Antoine came in. ‘Well, I spoke to Stéphie and she is delighted. And very, very grateful.’

‘I was a fool really. I shouldn’t have gone into the wood when it was raining and getting dark.’

Antoine didn’t speak but Alexandra was in no doubt that he agreed with her. ‘We must get you into a hot bath,’ he said instead.

She nodded. ‘I am so very cold!’

‘And so very dirty!’ He smiled through his concern. ‘But food first. I’ll make an omelette.’ He refilled her glass.

Alexandra looked at the brandy, knowing she’d already had quite a lot to drink. But it was making her feel better so she took another sip.

Antoine made her an omelette which she ate but she felt too tired to finish the bread he put with it.

‘Sorry,’ she said as he looked disapproving. ‘All that chewing. I just haven’t the energy.’

‘Let’s get you into the bath and then into bed.’ He made as if to pick her up, but she baulked.

‘I can walk! Just give me your arm.’ She had no desire to be carried up the stairs like a film star when she felt so very unstarlike.

He almost did carry her up he had to support her so much, but Alexandra felt better moving at least partly under her own steam. She did feel quite wobbly but he was there to support her.

‘How is your ankle?’ he asked when they reached the top of the staircase.

‘I think it feels a little better,’ she said and smiled.

‘OK, I’m going to start running your bath. You have to keep a check on the hot water and as soon as it starts running cold you must turn off the hot tap.’

Alexandra wondered why he felt obliged to explain this when she’d been running baths most of her life, but she did as she was told. She watched him run the water until it came hot, and only then did he put the plug in.

‘Now I’m going to boil a kettle to top up the hot water,’ he said. ‘But don’t you let any cold water in. This bath is not going to be very hot. You won’t be able to wash your hair.’

She smiled again. He seemed to have got her muddled up with Stéphie but he was being so kind, she didn’t like to complain.

She turned off the hot tap the moment it went cold and shortly afterwards Antoine appeared with a kettle. Alexandra had experience of heating baths with kettles; it was never really very satisfactory. But she had to get the mud off somehow and it would do.

‘Don’t be too long,’ said Antoine, ‘you need to get into bed.’

She nodded. ‘I know.’

‘Call if you need help getting out of the bath.’

‘I will,’ she said, knowing that the bath would turn to a block of ice before she’d ask for help.

Unfortunately, her injured foot slipped as she got into the bath. She wasn’t hurt but it meant that she went under the water and so got her hair wet. Antoine had definitely told her not to try and wash her hair but now her hair was wet, she might as well.

She got as much mud off her body and hair as she could, and rinsed herself. The water was very murky. As she hauled herself up, using the taps for support, she decided she would clean the bath out tomorrow, when she was a bit more mobile and not so freezing cold.

She leant on the wall as she dried herself and dragged her nightdress and dressing gown on over her still damp body. Then she did what she could do to dry her hair and opened the door.

Antoine was there. His disapproval was evident when he saw her hair was wet.

‘I fell,’ she said before he could say anything. ‘Just help me get into bed.’

Although Antoine had replaced the hot-water bottle, Alexandra was still cold and shivering.

‘It’s because your hair’s wet,’ he said. ‘I’ll get another towel.’

He rubbed her hair, which was still a bit gritty. ‘A hot drink,’ he said. ‘I’ll get it.’

Alexandra curled into a ball, thinking she’d never be warm again but at least she was safe and not lying in a stream waiting for a boar to trample her.

‘Here,’ said Antoine. ‘Hot milk. I hope you like it.’

Alexandra drank it and it did help but she was still cold. ‘I can’t decide if I want the hot-water bottle on my feet or on my body,’ she said through chattering teeth.

He stood watching her for a few seconds before kicking off his shoes and getting into bed with her.

‘We must get you warmed up’ he said.

He put his arm under her head, pulling her to him. She put her arm over him, and then she put her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

All the brandy she had drunk must have sent her to sleep for a few seconds, she realised, because suddenly she was awake and knew what she had to do. It would be hard but it would give her a memory she could hold in her heart forever, along with the moment in the forest when she really felt he loved her. If she let the moment pass she might never forgive herself. David had told her that, for the most part, it was the things you didn’t do that caused regret, not the things you did.

‘Antoine,’ she whispered.

‘Yes?’

‘Will you make love to me?’

She felt shock jolt through his body and hurried on, before he could stop her. Not being able to see his face made it easier.

‘Because I know that soon I’ll have to go away, get on with real life, and put all the time I’ve spent at the chateau, where I’ve been so happy, behind me. I know one day I’ll meet a suitable man and will probably get engaged to him and sleep with him.’ She took a breath. ‘And it’ll be fine. I won’t marry someone I don’t love but I want you to be the first. I want the first man I fell in love with to be the man I first …’ She swallowed. She wasn’t quite brave enough to go into too much detail. ‘I just want you to be the first,’ she repeated.

The few seconds’ silence before he replied went on for hours.

‘Mignonne,’ said Antoine. ‘I don’t know what to say. I am so … flattered—’

‘You don’t need to speak,’ she said quickly, before he could say anything even more devastating. ‘Just – do what I’ve asked. Please.’

He shifted so his head was resting on his hand, so they weren’t so entwined and he could talk to her. ‘I love you too much to do that.’

‘If you love me, why won’t you make love to me?’

‘There are so many reasons …’

‘Like what?’

‘The most practical reason is you could become pregnant. I know people say it cannot happen the first time—’

‘But it can. I know that,’ said Alexandra. ‘What are your other reasons?’

‘We can’t get past the first reason. If you were pregnant we’d have to get married and I can’t marry you!’

‘Why not?’ There was a catch in her voice. ‘What’s wrong with me?’

‘There is nothing wrong with you. Every hair on your head, every cell in your body is beautiful. You are the most wonderful woman I have ever met. You are intelligent, brave, kind, funny, you seem to love my children almost as much as I do, and you risked your life for a dog! Or maybe it was for Stéphie – it’s not important. You are a true heroine.’

‘But?’

‘I am too old for you and you are an heiress. If I marry you, what will everyone think? And say?’

‘Do we have to care what people think and say?’

‘Perhaps not, but nothing is going to change the age gap, or the fact that you work for me. You’ve been in a vulnerable position. Your reputation—’

‘Surely people get married to save their reputation?’

‘Not in this case!’

She held on to his jumper. ‘I want a beautiful memory—’

‘You’ll have a life full of beautiful memories. Go to sleep now. Think how happy Stéphie is going to be when she sees Milou. Rest. You’ve had a huge adventure. You need to sleep.’

He wriggled out from under the covers but stayed on top of them, stroking her forehead until she went to sleep.

She woke up with a headache. Too much brandy, she thought. And then the memory of what had happened with Antoine swept over her like a tidal wave. Sweat prickled her hairline. She felt sick. How much was hangover and how much was crushing embarrassment she couldn’t tell. She only knew that she wanted to die – or, better, be hundreds of miles away from Antoine.

She got out of bed slowly. Her muscles were very stiff but her ankle seemed better. She could almost walk on it properly. She still limped as she went to the bathroom but she was moving much more easily than she had been the night before.

A quick glance was enough to tell her how ghastly she looked: pale, with hair that stuck up at funny angles and was still damp.

She went back to her room and got dressed. It took ages. She put on a skirt that she could wear with her Chanel jacket. She found tights and her one pair of court shoes. She was leaving.

At the top of the stairs she listened for sounds of Antoine. There were noises from the kitchen and then she heard David’s voice saying something to Milou. This gave her courage to think that maybe Antoine wasn’t around. She tiptoed to his door and listened to see if he was still asleep. Nothing. The door wasn’t properly shut so she pressed it with her finger so it opened enough for her to see that he wasn’t there.

Relief and disappointment battled for a few seconds before relief won. She couldn’t face seeing him ever again. Leaning heavily on the bannister, she got down the stairs.

‘Lexi! You should have called! I’d have helped you down,’ said David. His gaze flicked over her, obviously taking in her clothes, her state of mind. ‘Are you all right?’

She nodded. ‘I have to leave. As soon as possible. Do you know where Antoine is?’

David nodded. ‘We met on the drive. He’s gone back to Nice to pick up the family.’

Alexandra sank on to a chair. ‘He obviously can’t face seeing me. I can see his point – I can’t face seeing him.’

‘OK, tea first and then tell me why. If you want to.’

It was cathartic telling David everything. He didn’t comment, he just refilled her mug of tea, put food in front of her and listened.

‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in trying to persuade you to change your mind about leaving?’ he said at last.

‘No. I can’t face seeing Antoine again. I have to go. Please explain to Stéphie and the others that I was called away suddenly. They won’t mind if they’ve got Milou.’ She got up. ‘I must find train times to Paris and ring Donna.’ She paused. ‘And if she can’t have me I’ll go back to the little pension I stayed in before. I’ll be fine. I’ll get a train to Switzerland as soon as I can.’

‘Really?’ said David. ‘Why not enjoy Paris for a little bit first? You had planned that originally, remember.’

She nodded. ‘Well, if Donna can have me, maybe I will.’

‘I’ll find out train times while you pack,’ he said. ‘You don’t need to take everything, just things you need for Paris. You won’t be needing a boiler suit when you’re living with your relations.’

Although she had felt she would never laugh again, this did make her chuckle. ‘Especially not one that’s covered in brick dust.’

‘Just leave everything you won’t need. I’ll sort it out later. Get your things together and then ring Donna. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear from you.’