Jewels (58 page)

The baby wasn’t due till May, but in late April she started packing up her things, as though she couldn’t wait to leave, and Julian watched her in fascination.

“Don’t you feel anything for this child?” he asked sadly, let alone for him. But he knew the answer to that question long since. All she cared about was Phillip.

“Why should I? I’ve never seen it.” She had no maternal instincts, no feelings of remorse for him. The only thing she was interested in now was continuing her affair with Phillip. He told her he had made reservations in Mallorca for the first week in June. And she didn’t care where they went, just so she was with him. She was going to see to it that she got everything she wanted.

On the first of May, Julian got a call at his office. Lady Whitfield had just checked into the clinic in Neuilly, it was the same one where he had been born, unlike his more enterprising brother and sister who had been delivered by their father at the château.

Emanuelle saw him leave and asked if he’d like her to come with him, but he shook his head and hurried outside to his car, and half an hour later he was at the hospital, pacing up and down, waiting for them to let him into the delivery room, and for a moment he was afraid that Yvonne wouldn’t let him. But the nurse came in to him a few minutes later, handed him a green cotton suit and what looked like a shower cap, told him where to change, and then guided him to the delivery room, where Yvonne glanced up at him between pains with open hatred.

“I’m sorry…” He felt instantly sorry for her, and tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away from him and clutched the table. The contractions were terrible, but the nurse said it was going very well, very quickly for a first baby. “I hope it’s fast,” he whispered to Yvonne, not knowing what else to say to her.

“I hate you,” she spat out between clenched teeth, trying to remind herself that she was being paid a million dollars for this and it was worth it. It was a hell of a way to build a fortune.

Things slowed down then for a while, they gave her a shot, and it dragged on, as Julian sat nervously, wondering if everything was all right. It was so strange being here with this woman whom he no longer loved, and who clearly hated him, as they waited for their baby. It seemed very surreal, and he was sorry he hadn’t asked someone to come with him after all. He felt suddenly very lonely.

Her labor finally picked up again, and Julian had to admit he felt desperately sorry for her, it looked awful. Nature knew nothing of her indifference to this child, or the fact that she wasn’t keeping it, and it was making her pay a price for it nonetheless. She worked long and hard and momentarily even forgot her hatred of Julian and let him help her. He held her shoulders and her hands, and everyone in the room encouraged her until dark, and then suddenly, finally, there was a long, thin wail, and a tiny red face appeared angrily as the doctor held him. Yvonne’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at him, and she smiled for an instant, and then she turned her face away from him, and the doctor handed him to Julian, who cried openly, unashamed, and nuzzled the little face next to his own, as the baby stopped crying the moment he heard him.

“Oh God, he’s so beautiful,” he said in awe of his son, and then he gently held him toward Yvonne, but she shook her head and turned away again. She didn’t want to see him.

They let Julian take the baby back to the room with him, and he held him there for hours until they brought Yvonne back. And she asked him if he would leave, so she could call Phillip. She told the nurse to take the baby to the nursery, and not to bring him to her again, and then she looked at the man whose son she had just borne, and whom she had married, but her face was without emotion.

“I guess this is good-bye then,” she said quietly, but she held out no hand, no arms, no hope, and Julian felt sad for both of them, despite the arrival of the baby. It was an emotional day for him, and he cried easily as he looked at her and nodded.

“I’m sorry things worked out the way they did for us,” he said sadly. “The baby is so beautiful, isn’t he …”

“I guess so.” She shrugged.

“I’ll take good care of him,” he whispered, and then took a step closer to her and kissed her cheek. She had worked so hard for him and now she was giving him up. It tore at Julian’s heart, but not at Yvonne’s. He was the only one crying.

She looked at him matter-of-factly before he left. “Thanks for the money.” That was all he had ever meant to her. And he left her then, to her own life.

She left the hospital the next day. The funds were already in her bank account since that morning. True to his word, he had paid her a million dollars for their baby.

Julian took the baby home with the nurse. He had named him Maximillian. Max. And the baby looked it. Sarah drove up from the château with Xavier that afternoon to see him, and Isabelle flew in from Rome that night, and held him for hours in the rocking chair. In his short life, he had already lost his mother, but he had gained an adoring family who had waited for him lovingly. And Isabelle thought her heart would break with longing as she held him.

“You’re so lucky,” she whispered to her brother that night as they looked down at Max as he slept.

“I wouldn’t have thought so six months ago,” Julian said to her, “but I do now. It was all worth it.” He wondered where Yvonne had gone, how she was, if she was sorry, but he didn’t think so as he lay in bed that night, thinking of his son, and how lucky he was to have him.

Chapter 30

HE
family reunited for Sarah’s birthday again that year, although not all of them. Yvonne was gone, of course, and Phillip had discreetly stayed away, after making excuses that he was just too busy in London. Sarah had heard a rumor from Nigel, who was still at work, that Phillip and Cecily were having a trial separation, but she didn’t say anything to Julian.

Julian came with Max, of course, and a nurse, but he did most of the work himself, and it was obvious that he loved it Sarah watched admiringly as he changed Max, bathed him, fed him, dressed him. The only painful thing was seeing Isabelle watching him. There was still a longing in her eyes that cut Sarah to the core. But they were freer to talk now, she had come to the château that summer without Lorenzo. It was also a special summer for all of them, because it was Xavier’s last one at home. He was starting Yale a year early, in the fall, at seventeen, and Sarah was very proud of him. He was majoring in political science with a minor in geology. And he was talking about doing his junior year somewhere in Africa, as a special project.

“We’re going to miss you horribly,” Sarah admitted to him, and everyone agreed with her. She herself was going to spend more time in Paris and less at the château, so she wouldn’t be so lonely. At sixty-six, she liked to claim that they all ran the business entirely, but she still kept a strong hand in it, as did Emanuelle, who had just turned sixty, which Sarah found even harder to believe than her own age.

Xavier was very excited about going to Yale, and Sarah couldn’t blame him. He would be coming back at Christmastime, and Julian had promised to go over and visit him when he had to go to New York on business. The two were chatting about it, as Sarah and Isabelle drifted off to the garden for a chat, and Isabelle asked her discreetly what was happening with Phillip. She had heard the rumor of his separation, too, and echoes of his affair with Yvonne had reached her through Emanuelle the previous summer.

“It was an ugly business,” Sarah said with a sigh, still shaken by it. But Julian seemed to have come out of it pretty well, especially now with the baby.

“We don’t make life easy for you, Mother, do we?” Isabelle asked ruefully and her mother smiled. “You don’t make life easy for yourselves.” But Isabelle laughed as she said it.

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Oh? Has Enzo finally agreed to move out?”

“No.” Isabelle shook her head slowly, and her eyes met her mother’s. But Sarah saw that she looked more peaceful than she had in a long time. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?” This time Sarah was stunned, she had thought there was no hope of it. “You are?” She looked amazed and then thrilled as she put her arms around her. “Why darling, how wonderful!” And then she pulled away from her again, a little puzzled. “I thought … what did Lorenzo say? He must be beside himself.” But the prospect of cementing the marriage further wasn’t entirely good news to Sarah.

Isabelle laughed again in spite of herself at the absurdity of the situation. “Mother, it’s not his.”

“Oh dear.” Things were getting complicated again. She sat down on a little wall and looked up at Isabelle. “What have you been up to now?”

“He’s a wonderful man. I’ve been seeing him for a year…. Mother … I can’t help it … I’m twenty-six years old, I can’t lead this empty life. … I need someone to love … someone to talk to. …”

“I understand,” she said quietly, and she did. She had hated knowing how lonely Isabelle was and how little hope there was for her. “But a baby? Does Enzo know?”

“I told him. I was hoping it would make him so angry he’d leave, but he says he doesn’t care. Everyone will think it’s his. In fact, he told two of his friends last week and they congratulated me. He’s crazy.”

“No, greedy,” Sarah said matter-of-factly. “And the baby’s father? What does he say? Who is he?”

“He’s German. From Munich. He’s head of a very important foundation there, and his wife is very prominent and she doesn’t want a divorce. He’s thirty-six, and they had to get married when he was nineteen. They lead totally separate lives, but she doesn’t want the embarrassment of a divorce. Yet.”

“How does he feel about the embarrassment of an illegitimate baby?” she asked bluntly.

“Not great. Neither do I. But what choice do I have? Do you think Lorenzo will ever leave?”

“We’ll try. And what about you?” She looked at her daughter searchingly. “Are you happy? Is this what you want?”

“Yes, I really love him. His name is Lukas von Ausbach.”

“I’ve heard of the family, not that that means anything. Do you think he’ll ever marry you?”

“If he can.” She was honest with her mother.

“And if he can’t? If his wife won’t let him go? Then what?”

“Then at least I have a baby.” She had wanted one so badly, especially when she saw Julian with Max.

“When is it due, by the way?”

“February. Will you come?” Isabelle asked softly, and her mother nodded.

“Of course.” She was touched to be asked, and then suddenly she wondered. “Does Julian know about all this?” The two were always so close, it was hard to believe he didn’t. Isabelle said that she had just told him that morning. “What does he say?”

“That I’m as crazy as he is.” She smiled.

“It must be genetic,” Sarah said as she stood again, and they walked back to the château. One thing was certain, at least. Her children were never boring.

In September, Xavier left for Yale, as planned, and Julian went to New Haven in October to see him. He was doing well, loved the school, and had two very nice roommates, and a very attractive girlfriend. Julian took them out to dinner, and they had a good time. Xavier loved his American life, and he was planning to go to California to visit his aunt for Thanksgiving.

When Julian went back to Paris he heard that Phillip and Cecily were getting a divorce, and at Christmas he saw a photograph of his brother and his ex-wife in the
Tatler.
He showed it to Sarah when she was at the shop, and she frowned. She was not pleased to see it.

“Do you suppose he’ll marry her?” she asked Emanuelle when they talked about it later.

“It’s possible.” She no longer had the faith in him she once had had, especially lately. “He might even do it just to upset Julian.” His jealousy for him had never abated, it had grown worse over the years instead of better.

Xavier came home at Christmas and the days flew by, as usual. And when he left to go back to school, Sarah went to Rome, to keep an eye on the store and help Isabelle get ready for the baby.

Marcello was still there, working very hard, as Isabelle prepared to leave. And as it had been from the first, business was booming. Sarah smiled when she saw her daughter, rattling off instructions to everyone in Italian. She looked beautiful, and prettier than she ever had before, but she was absolutely enormous. It reminded her of when she’d been pregnant with her own children, who were always so large. But Isabelle seemed sublimely happy.

Sarah invited her son-in-law to lunch shortly after she arrived. They went to El Toulà, and shortly after the first course, Sarah got to the point. She didn’t mince words with Lorenzo this time.

“Lorenzo, we’re grown-ups, you and I.” He was very close to her age, and Isabelle had been married to him for nine years now. It seemed a high price to pay for a youthful mistake, and she was anxious to help her end it. “You and Isabelle haven’t been happy for a long time. This baby is… well, we both know the situation. It’s time to call it a day, wouldn’t you say?”

“My love for Isabelle will never end,” he said, sounding melodramatic as Sarah made a supreme effort not to lose her temper.