Rachel saw his body freeze as Charlie straightened up. He said something quickly and she saw Charlie nod towards their table. Her heart thudded as they moved closer. It was a long time since she’d wondered if this situation would ever arise. The chances of her meeting one of the Faurés were remote, but remote had happened.
‘Hello, Rachel.’
‘Christophe, this is a surprise,’ she said huskily.
‘For me too,’ he said heavily.
The guy had one of those French accents females found attractive. Benedict tried not to hold the accent against him; after all, he was an open-minded sort of guy. However, despite his open-minded attitude he found he couldn’t stretch to a smile when the older man glanced in his direction.
‘You are married, Rachel?’
‘No, no…this is Benedict Arden. Ben, this is Christophe Fauré.’
‘And I have met Charlie.’
It was then, as he smiled down at the child, that it finally clicked: the eyes. Charlie had his eyes! That was why he’d looked familiar. No wonder Rachel had looked as if she was seeing a ghost; she was seeing a ghost. Benedict had felt a similar sensation when a cricket ball had hit his unprotected adolescent manhood when he was thirteen.
‘Are you in London alone?’ This was a nightmare, Rachel decided; a waking nightmare. Christophe knew; of course he knew. He was seeing his brother as he looked at Charlie. She didn’t have the faintest idea what his reaction would be.
‘Annabel stayed at home. She has an exhibition next month. My wife,’ he said, glancing politely at Benedict. ‘She is an artist.’
‘So you’re married.’ The hostility would have been hard to miss.
‘Yes.’
‘A question occurs to me.’ This was Benedict at his most bland and Rachel, who hadn’t thought things could get much worse, thought she might be sick. ‘Were you married when you and Rachel last…met?’
‘I was.’
‘And when might that have been?’
‘Ben!’ She frowned reprovingly at him. He was behaving like a heavy parent, for heaven’s sake! Or a jealous lover… She pushed this notion and the accompanying spurt of dangerous gratification firmly away.
‘Eleven years ago.’ Christophe’s eyes repeatedly strayed to Charlie as he went on, ‘Your mother was our au pair, Charlie. She kept house for us for a while. She was not very much older than you really.’
God, what was he going to say next? she wondered with alarm. She could almost hear the questions forming in Charlie’s mind. If Charlie was going to hear the story she was going to hear it from her mother’s lips.
‘Dance with me,’ she said, urgency lending her inspiration. Christophe looked startled. ‘Please, Christophe?’ Her smile was all teeth and terror. She had to get him away from Charlie.
‘I’d be delighted.’
‘Sorry,’ she said a few minutes later as she trod on his toes for the second time.
‘She is Raoul’s of course,’ he said, breaking the silence.
Silently Rachel nodded.
‘He was my brother and I loved him but he was a selfish….’
Rachel’s French was good enough to translate the unflattering epithet accurately.
‘And I was a silly girl,’ she added, not disagreeing with his harsh assessment of his dead brother’s character.
‘Did he know?’
‘No.’
‘That’s something, I suppose. I’d like to think it would have made a difference if he had…’ He left his doubts unspoken. ‘You were living under our roof,’ he continued in a severe voice. ‘Our responsibility. I should have guessed and been more vigilant; I knew how Raoul was—without honour.’ His lips twisted in disgust. ‘Charlie is my niece—my blood; I could have helped. I hope you didn’t tar us with the same brush as Raoul. I would understand if you did.’
‘No, of course not; you and Annabel were very kind to me. I was ashamed, frightened. I didn’t want anyone to know I’d been so stupid. Later, when I heard about the crash, I thought about letting you know, but I thought you might think I was after… Well, it would have looked pretty suspicions: I pop up complete with child when Raoul is no longer there to deny or confirm my story.’
‘Charlie’s eyes are all the proof you needed,’ he said, his frown deepening. ‘My family have done you harm, Rachel. Helping you would have been a privilege, not just a duty.’
Rachel’s throat was suddenly choked with emotion at the sincerity in this man’s voice. It was amazing that two brothers could be so dissimilar, she reflected sadly.