Lost heritage (20 page)

*My adoptive father,' she explained. *I was adopted when I was a baby and the bracelet, that bracelet, was apparendy pushed through the letterbox at my parents' home just after I was adopted. My parents, the Kennedys, always assumed those were the names of my real parents and they named me Charlotte because of it.'

*They are no longer alive?' She shook her head and it was impossible to stop the mistiness that momentarily dimmed her sight of him, because remembering brought home to her just how much she still missed them both. *And they never attempted to contact anyone, to discover who the Menais—these Menais were?'

Following his meaning, Charlotte looked up swif dy. *No, of course not! They wouldn't have dreamed of trying to— what it is you're implying I They were good, honest people and they loved me more than if I had been theirs really—

they weren't interested in whether or not I had a wealthy family!*

He seemed not to have heard her, not to have taken notice of anything she told him. His face was shadowed and the steely grey eyes half-concealed below thick lashes. *Mon dieuP he whispered after a moment or two, and ran a hand through his hair as he began pacing back and forth. Then he swung round swifdy and looked at her with narrowed eyes. *You know what this implies?' he demanded, and Charlotte nodded.

*Yes, I know,' she murmured, her mouth trembling.

*It implies that Raoul—my uncle—had a daughter about whom we knew nothing! I cannot even believe that Raoul himself knew—he was a man who loved children, he would

not have ' He broke off and shook his head violendy to

and fro. *I cannot believe it, Charlotte!'

He began pacing again and Charlotte watched him silentiy, her heart in her mouth. She had anticipated opposition to her coming there, but it had never crossed her mind that they would doubt the validity of her claim, only the inconvenience of it and the embarrassment. She waited until he came nearer again, then ventured a question.

*You don't believe she exists—the Charlotte on the bracelet?'

She could feel the tension in his lean body, holding him like a coiled spring, and he looked at her long and hard before he answered. Then he opened his hand and looked at the tiny gold bracelet lying in its nest of tissue paper and shook his head.

*You believe she exists?' he challenged, and Charlotte nodded. * And you believe you are this—this Charlotte?'

He held out the bracelet, letting the tissue flutter to the floor, and she caught at her breath as her heart gave a great leap in her breast. *I—I think so, yes,' she told him.

*Ahj ciely how is it possible?' He looked more uncertain

than Charlotte had ever seen him look, but she watched him anxiously because so much depended upon him. Her whole future was in the balance, and Raoul must realise it too. *Raoul and Elizabedi!' He resumed his pacing, then came to a halt once more, facing her sternly. *And you came here—^why, eh, Charlotte?*

*To find my father.' The words were barely above a whisper and she prayf d he was not going to stop her before she could finish. 'I saw in the newspaper about you being in England for that c«i nference '

*You thought / was your father?'

He looked starded, but she shook her head hastily. *It was the name,' she explained. *Raoul Menais; I didn't know who he was or how old he was, but I thought if I could just

see him, talk to him ' She spread her hands in that

appealing gesture she so often used. *I lost my nerve and I was leaving withej»!t seeing anyone when the desk clerk paged you. I knew as soon as I saw you that I had the wrong man.'

*But you applied for the post with Lizette? Did you also suspect that she might be ycur mother?'

*Oh no,' Charlotte disclaimed hastily. *I didn't realise that until I was sorting out those things for Madame Menais to take to the hospital, and I found an old hairbrush in one of the drawers with the initial "E". Madame Menais told me that Lizette's name was Elizabeth, or I'd never have known. Fd always assumed my mother was

dead; I felt sure she'd never have ' She realised that

she was on the point of blaming Lizette for having abandoned her, and shook her head hastily.

*But now ycu knew hew wrong you were, eh?'

The grating harshness of his voice condemned Lizette out of hand and she looked at him anxiously, her hands clasped together in front of her. T—I don't blame her,' she said. *I wouldn't blame her.'

*But that is why you wish so much to see4ier?' Raoul suggested, and she hesitated.

She was no longer very sure of anything, least of all about the wisdom of seeing Lizette in hospital. 'I-—I can see that it's embarrassing after all these years,' she said, *but I had thought '

He was looking at her in such a way that she broke off and eyed him uncertainly. If she was to be sent away, this was the moment when it would happen, before anyone else knew about her connection with their family; and Raoul would be the one to do it. She took a deep breath and prepared to plead with him, because somehow in her heart she knew she could reach that more gentle part of him if she tried.

But he was not saying the words she half expected. Instead he was looking down at her with his eyes slightly narrowed and his lower lip pinched between a thumb and forefinger. *I think you should see Lizette,' he told her, and Charlotte stared at him unbelievingly for a moment.

Licking her dry lips, she shook her head. 'You believe me?'

Grey eyes held her uncertain gaze for so long that she found it hard not to look away, then without a word Raoul turned her in the direction of the door. *If anyone can confirm or deny the existence of Charlotte Menais, it is Lizette,' he told her as he hurried her out into the hall to the front doors. *There is a car waiting to take me to meet a very important client—instead it will take you to the, hospital, and I shall drive myself.'

*But—will they let me see her?' Charlotte asked. She felt very small and uncertain as she took in the fact that now she was at last on the brink of being accepted as Lizette's daughter, and by Raoul from whom she had expected the greatest opposition, she was experiencing her first moment of doubt. *You did say that only family '

Her voice trailed off as he took a firm hold on her arm and walked with her down the front steps to the waiting car. *You are her family, are you not?' he asked, ignoring the surprised frown of the waiting chauffeur and opening the car door for her himself. *I have never believed in miracles, Charlotte, but Lizette is in need of one now, and I believe that you may well be the means of making one happen for her.'

Realising at last that she was being sent off just as she was, with no opportunity of making herself ready to pay a visit, even to someone too ill to notice, she looked up at him as he stood with her by the car. *Raoul, I haven't a handbag or anything, I '

*You need nothing but yourself,' Raoul told her firmly. *And this.' He thrust the bracelet into her hand and folded her fingers over it. *I shall telephone and tell Grand'm^re at the hospital that you are on your way, but I shall not go into too much detail, I will leave that to you. Pray that Lizette confirms your claim to be—who you are, ma belle, or you will not be the only one required to tnake an ex-planaticm to Grand'mere!'

The chauffeur was already in his seat and Raoul was pressing her to get into the car, but she held back still, her eyes anxious. *Raoul Suppose I am wrcmg; I mean suppose it's someone else altogether, and not the same Raoul Menais '

*It is too late to step back and doubt now, ma petite.'* He spoke firmly, but the endearment tripped easily from his tongue and there was a gende look in his eyes that warmed her and gave her courage. *I wish that I could have come with you, but this client is too important to change our appointment at such short notice, and you will be with Grand'mere when you arrive.' He saw her into the back seat of the car and closed the door firmly behind her. 'Au revoir and bonne chance, ma chere!'

The car started and turned along the chestnut tree-lined driveway to the road, and just before it rounded the first bend, Charlotte turned and looked back to see Raoul still standing there. The sight of him brought curious longings to her heart as the distance increased between them, and she wished he could have gone with her too.

CHAPTER NINE

Charlotte looked down at the face on the stark white hospital pillow and experienced a curious sense of satisfaction. Perhaps it was not quite the kind of reaction she should have had looking at the gaunt features and pale blank eyes, but it was the first time she had seen Lizette and known her for her own mother.

Madame Menais, slightly dazed but convinced by her grandson's certainty on the telephone, had prepared the way for this moment. The old lady had spent a short time with Lizette and with the doctor in charge of her case, then Charlotte had been admitted to the big room with its high window letting in sunlight in long streaks across bare cream walls.

A Sister whispered a warning about not tiring the patient, then swished her way out of the room with an encouraging smile at the woman in the bed, and closed the door behind her. For a moment after she had gone Charlotte hovered near the door, unsure what to do or say, then Lizette turned her head and looked directly at her, and she saw the blankness of shock in her expression.

A hand was extended, encouraging her closer, and Charlotte obeyed it. Sitting alone in the quiet reception hall while Madame Menais organised her admittance, she had

wondered what she would say, and now tiiat she was there she was still at a loss.

^Charlotte?'

The familiar harsh and slighdy cracked voice shivered with uncertainty and the moment she came within reach long thin fingers closed around her wrist in a clasp that was surprisingly strong, drawing her still closer until she was obliged to sit on the edge of the bed while Lizette's pale eyes scanned her face anxiously.

*The—the bracelet?' she said, and Charlotte placed it on the outstretched palm.

*It's the only proof I have,* Charlotte explained, her own voice slighdy unsteady. *I saw RaouFs name in the paper and I thought—I didn't realise it was another man; another Raoul Menais. I hoped to find my father, I didn't know about my mother, I thought '

She stopped there, for it was difficult to say that she had assumed her mother to be dead because it implied so much blame. But Lizette knew it and she gnawed her lower lip in the way that Charlotte knew so well; her thin hands fluttering resdessly at the edge of snowy sheets as she faced the fact that a part of her life she had thought vanished for ever was there beside her. The pale eyes seemed to be seeking something, perhaps some sign of resentment, Charlotte wondered, and she did not quite understand its absence.

*Oh, dear God in heaven!'

The tears came suddenly and shockingly and Charlotte moved to take the shaking body in her arms. It was a floodgate of release after more than twenty years of pent-up grief and self-condenmation, and it was terrifying to witness. But Charlotte held her tight, tears streaming down her own face, until die storm subsided, slowly but surely.

But it was several minutes before Lizette looked up, and when she did her red-rimmed eyes searched Charlotte's

face anxiously as if diey still sought some sign of resentment. They had, Charlotte noticed, lost something of that flat, blank look, and that in itself was a relief. After a moment or two she leaned back against the pillow, twiddling the hem of the sheet in resdess fingers while she spoke.

*I don't know where to begin,' she said.

•There's no need for you to say anything now,' Charlotte assured her, but could not help hoping she would not be taken at her word.

*0h, but there is! You of all people deserve to hear the truth after all these years!' She looked up at her appeal-ingly. *Will you listen, Charlotte?'

Madame Menais had accepted her identity because she so obviously wanted to, Charlotte realised, but the shock of it had made her unusually quiet. Lizette accepted it for the same reason, but the effect on her was the exact opposite and she was obviously anxious to tell her the whole story; perhaps to justify what she had done all those years ago. In any case Charlotte was prepared to listen to anything and everything Lizette had to say.

*Of course I'll listen,' she promised. *I want to listen.'

*It isn't easy.' She clung tightly to Charlotte's hand as she began to talk and Charlotte could believe it wasn't easy, but she kept silent while the unsteady voice started to relate the loves and indiscretions of more than twenty years ago. *I was working as a translator with the sales department when I met Raoul, the elder Raoul, of course, and I was only nineteen when we married.'

•Married?' Charlotte stared at her. If her own revela-ticm had stunned the Menais, her own shock was almost as great, and she took a moment or two to come to terms with a new situation. With the realisation that there would have been no embarrassment for anyone except possibly Lizette. *You were—^you and Raoul were married?'

Puzzled by her reaction, Lizette stared at her. 'Didn't you know?'

Charlotte shook her head slowly, but there was now a whole new set of questions that needed answers. Like why it had been necessary to give up a legitimate child for adoption. There must be something more to it than simply disposing of an unwanted child and it could, she guessed, explain Lizette's anxious and nervous disposition and her constant weeping.

'I had no idea,' she said, steadying her voice deliberately.

'I suppose the fact that Raoul was Monsieur Hilaire's son was really why I married him and not Michel,' Lizette went on with staggering frankness, 'although I was very attracted to him. He was everything that Michel was, and is, only more so, and I think I loved him deep down.'

Charlotte kept her reactions carefully under control, for she was determined to neither condemn nor condone, only to hear the truth. It was enough to learn that they had been married, she could accept almost anything else after that, she thought.

'I liked being Madame Elizabeth Menais,' Lizette confessed with a touching candour, 'and I liked being married to Raoul. I suppose I loved him more than Fd realised, but it was too good to last, and I think deep inside I knew that sooner or later something had to happen. We'd been married about three months when Raoul got this—this insane idea that I was being unfaithful to him. I—^I've thought since that it could have been Michel who started the rumour to get his own back.'