The Frenchman's Bride. Rebecca Winters

moment, Paul, and I apologize for them. When you’re feeling better, we’ll have that talk you wanted.”

      “It’s too late. We’re finished. I never want to see you again.” His eyelids fluttered closed, dismissing his father.

      Letting out a sigh of remorse for having brought on this impasse Vincent said, “We’ll talk about things later. Right now the only thing that matters is that you recover.”

      If Paul heard him, he made no further comment.

      Deciding it was better to let him rest, Vincent used the cubicle phone to put through a credit card call to Pere Maurice and let him know Paul was going to be all right. The old man wept with relief. Fortunately he hadn’t tried to reach Monique who knew nothing about the accident yet.

      They talked for a few more minutes, then Vincent followed the orderlies who took Paul to a private room on the third floor. While a nurse took his vital signs, another doctor came in the room and shook hands with Vincent.

      “I’m Dr. Maurois. If you’d step outside in the hall for a moment, I’d like to talk to you about your son’s case.”

      Vincent complied, but his senses were on alert that something was wrong. He eyed the man grimly. “Are there complications I haven’t been told about?”

      “I’m afraid so. However the attending physician felt it best that you hear the details from me. I’m the head of the psychiatric department here at Passy Hospital.”

      The doctor might as well have driven a fist into Vincent’s gut. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

      In the next few minutes he heard news no parent ever wants to hear.

      “If you’d prefer another psychiatrist, feel free to find someone else.”

      “I’m sure you’re well qualified,” Vincent murmured. “Heaven knows my son needs help. The sooner, the better.”

      The psychiatrist nodded. “What are your plans for the next few days?”

      “To stay here with my son. My daughter Monique, his twin, will be joining me.”

      “Good. For the time being, don’t mention what I’ve told you to him or your daughter. Only say and do the things that come naturally. I’ll be talking to him at regular intervals over the next forty-eight hours, then I’ll meet with you and your daughter, both together and individually. We’ll go from there.”

      “Thank you,” Vincent said in a dull voice.

      Once the nurse assured him Paul was resting comfortably, Vincent left to drive over to Monique’s school.

      Before going to her room, he went to the office and thanked the headmistress for watching out for his daughter. She told him it had been a pleasure. She also invited him to come by any time when he happened to be in Paris on business. Her eyes held a private invitation he couldn’t possibly misconstrue.

      After hearing Ms. Linn repeat Monique’s words revealed in confidence about the headmistress, he found himself repulsed by her blatant offer.

      There’d been several women over the years he’d enjoyed when he’d gone out of town on business. But the headmistress would never be one of them.

      Still in shock after learning what Dr. Maurois had to say, his heart sank further to discover Monique in her bedroom lying prostrate on the bed. Her tear-ravaged cheeks devastated him. He’d seen her like this before, but never because of something he’d done. It cut him to the core.

      Riddled by guilt on so many counts, he sat down on the bed and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry, mon cherie. So sorry.” He rocked her for a while. “One day I hope you and Paul will be able to forgive me.”

      Like Paul, she remained mute. What had he done?

      Aware that Paul had been left alone he eventually said, “Come on. We need to get back to the hospital. Let’s carry your things out to the car. There’s something important I have to tell you, but I don’t want to talk about it until we’re away from the school.”

      On that note his puffy-eyed daughter helped him load the trunk with her cases which she’d already packed in anticipation of leaving school for good. En route to the hospital he turned to her. “How come you and Paul didn’t share a taxi back to your schools?”

      “He took off running. I couldn’t stop him. But I have to tell you—I don’t blame him for what he did, Papa.”

      Monique was fiercely loyal to Paul. Vincent loved his daughter for it.

      “Neither do I. Unfortunately your brother was so upset, he met with an accident.” It was the truth, just not all of it. That wouldn’t come until Dr. Maurois felt the time was right. “But he’s going to be fine,” he added the second he heard her frightened cry.

      “No broken bones. Only concussion. In a few days he’ll be able to travel. The problem right now is, he thinks he hates me, and he has every right.

      “Before we spend the night with him, I want to hear all about Hallie Linn. Don’t leave anything out. And don’t worry, I’m not asking because I suspect her of something sinister.

      “However I do need to know about your relationship with her so I can understand what’s going on inside of Paul. I love your brother. But until I hear all the facts, I won’t be able to truly apologize to him in a way that he’ll accept as genuine. Do you know what I’m saying?”

      “I don’t think this is something you can fix, mon pere.”

      Coming on the heels of Dr. Maurois’s gut wrenching news, her opinion alarmed him. She sounded too grave and final about it.

      Some time during the last nine months, his children had grown up. He hadn’t been there to see it happen and felt searing pain. Not only for what he’d missed, but for what he’d caused to happen.

      “I have to try.”

      “Paul’s been in love with her since the first day she waited on us at Tati’s. I could see why. She’s perfect! I totally approve of her for my future sister-in-law.”

      “What makes her so special?”

      “She’s the only person I feel is worthy of Paul’s love.”

      Worthy?

      Coming from Monique who was a twin and crazy about her brother almost to the point of being possessive of him, those were powerful words. He needed to tread carefully.

      Since Vincent had married at eighteen, right now wasn’t the time to raise the issue that Paul was too young to know the difference between infatuation and love.

      Without sounding like a hypocrite, how could he tell his daughter that Paul would probably be in love four or five times until he’d reached his mid to late twenties?

      A man needed to be that age before he became a responsible adult with a viable career. Only then could he hope to find the kind of stability needed to achieve a happy marriage with the right woman.

      “Paul would have told you about her a lot sooner, but he was afraid you wouldn’t approve of his falling in love with an American. He asked me not to say anything about her until he was ready.”

      Vincent knew in his gut that wasn’t the reason his son had kept him in the dark. He shifted gears to pass a car. “I have no bias against Americans. I admit there was one client who came here a few years ago I didn’t particularly care for, but on the whole I find most of my American acquaintances quite charming.”

      He sucked in his breath. “My reaction to Ms. Linn had nothing to do with her nationality. I was in shock to think Paul had spent the money on a ring rather than a car designated for your graduation gift.”

      His daughter lowered her head. “He was determined to get engaged by the end of the school year. I told him I didn’t care about a car. If he wanted to spend that money on her, it was fine with me.