Heaven Scent (52 page)

Guy guiltily recalled at least three occasions over the past two years when Xavier had attempted to have a heart-to-heart with him. Guy, unable to deal with emotion on any level, even someone else’s, had batted Xavier away, using work as a convenient shield. Eventually, Xavier had given up, pulling down his own emotional shutters and refusing to work in the family business.

Guy felt terrible. And he felt ashamed, horribly so. He wanted to tell Max he was sorry . . . he wanted to explain to Xavier that he hadn’t meant to let him down and that he had all the time in the world to hear what had happened with Angelique. He wanted to pull Seraphina into his arms and tell her she would always be his baby and that he would always protect her.

But he hadn’t, had he? Seraphina had ended up in the slippery arms of Yves. Was Max right? Had Seraphina really ended up with a man twice her age because she’d been craving her own father’s attention and approval? Guy thought he might throw up on the spot.

Cat watched, agonised. Max sorely needed to get everything off his chest but Guy couldn’t take much more. He looked so pale, so aghast; Cat was worried he might have a heart attack. She was aware that Guy had been wandering off on his own since the party; several times she had discovered him silently weeping by Elizabeth’s grave. He seemed incapable of coping with day to day life right now.

Feeling a drop of rain on her bare shoulder, Cat looked up at the darkening sky fearfully, guessing a huge storm was on its way. Rather like the one being played out in front of her, she thought worriedly.

Inflamed that his father was saying nothing and determined to stick the knife in once and for all, Max spoke again, his voice now scarily calm. ‘That slimy bastard Seraphina ended up with took
your
place, Dad. He did all the things you were supposed to do. That and a whole lot more, eh?’

‘Stop,’ Guy gasped, stumbling backwards as if he’d been struck. ‘Don’t say that. You can’t mean it, you can’t.’ He clawed at his throat as if he’d been deprived of air. ‘You can’t mean that . . . you can’t think I rejected her . . . both of you, like that.’ As he said the words, Guy knew that was exactly what he had done. Everything Max said was true. When Elizabeth died, he had been so caught up in his own grief, he hadn’t considered their feelings.

Guy leant against a nearby fence for support, appalled at the realisation he had been avoiding for the past two years or more. He was a terrible father. He had sidelined his children when they needed him the most, just because he was inconsolable after his wife’s death. He had mourned her loss so deeply, he had punished everyone around him by cutting them off and making himself unavailable.

Rain began to pelt down and a terrifying fork of lightning pierced the sky.

‘I think he’s heard enough,’ Cat said, unable to hold back any longer. She stepped forward, wishing she was wearing more than shorts and a T-shirt. Max spun round, his mouth twisted in a snarl, but Cat stood her ground. ‘I’m sorry, Max. I’m sure everything you’ve said is true but your father just didn’t realise. He’s devastated by what you’ve said.’

‘I don’t give a FUCK!’ Max bellowed. ‘He’s a father, he’s not supposed to screw everything up and get away with it.’

‘I don’t think he is getting away with it,’ Cat stated gently, catching sight of Guy sliding down the fence. He ended up awkwardly on the ground and stared at them sightlessly. He was soaked but seemed oblivious of it.

Cat was about to go to him when she caught sight of Angelique sauntering towards them. Wearing a smart pair of beige jodhpurs with a cream silk sleeveless vest, she was carrying a clear umbrella over her head and her blond hair was tied up in a smooth bun. She looked as though she was off for a photo shoot rather than ride and, unlike the rest of them, she was bone dry and immaculate.

‘I can’t believe it’s raining,’ she pouted, seemingly unaware that Guy was looking utterly destroyed in a crumpled heap by the fence. ‘I was about to go for a ride. I’m an excellent rider. Is the horse I used to ride still here?’ she asked for Cat’s benefit.

Max shot her a withering glance. ‘That horse died over a year ago,’ he snapped. ‘Something you’d know if you hadn’t fucked off and left Xavier to pick up the pieces.’

Angelique flushed. Little upstart, talking to her as if she was nothing! And what did he know about what had happened with Xavier? Forgetting the Ducasse family were extremely close, Angelique dismissed any possibility that Xavier had confided in his younger siblings.

‘Fuck this,’ Max said, losing patience with everyone. Charging towards the stables, he pulled Le Fantome out. The horse’s eyes rolled crazily as thunder rumbled around them. Not bothering to saddle up, Max leapt on bareback and cantered into the field, his red shirt the only bright speck in the curtain of rain.

Cat watched him worriedly. Max was an extremely competent rider but the conditions were going to be treacherous in no time at all. Throw his uncontrollable anger into the mix and disaster beckoned. She looked at Angelique desperately. ‘What are we going to do?’

Angelique pulled a face. ‘Don’t look at me, I’m not riding in this weather!’ She gestured to her clothes. ‘Do I look as though I’m about to charge off in thunder and lightning?’ She looked at Cat’s scruffy wet shorts and T-shirt disparagingly.

‘You said you were an excellent rider,’ Cat retorted heatedly. She pointed to Max’s disappearing form. ‘He’s out there alone in this fucking storm and he’s angry and hurt. We have to do something!’

Angelique shrugged. ‘Count me out. Family domestics aren’t my thing. And stroppy teenagers aren’t really my forte either.’ She strolled off and Cat gaped at her. Didn’t she have any feelings whatsoever? Cat went to Guy’s side and helped him up.

‘Go to the house,’ she told him in a loud, clear voice. ‘Get help. It doesn’t matter who. Just tell them Max is out riding and he’s in danger.’ She blinked as rain streamed down her face. Guy was looking back at her helplessly. ‘Do you understand? Guy, do you understand what I’m saying?’

Guy nodded blankly. ‘It’s all my fault but I didn’t know . . .’ His voice trailed away. ‘I didn’t mean to shut them out . . . I didn’t mean for Seraphina to replace me with that . . . that awful man. Oh God, Cat, what have I done?’

‘I know,’ Cat soothed, speaking to him as though he were a child. ‘It will be all right, Guy, I promise. But right now, we need to get Max. Go and get help. Now, please!’

Shoving him towards the château, she dashed through the rain to one of the stables. Finding a horse that didn’t look too put out by the storm, Cat hurriedly saddled it up, her fingers struggling with the buckles. It had been years since she’d ridden, even longer since she’d put a saddle on. Hoping to God the saddle was secure, Cat leapt on the horse’s back and kicked off her flip-flops.

She headed in the same direction as Max, clutching the reins for dear life. She felt the horse skid around beneath her on the sodden grass and she forced her knees into the saddle, leaning down low over the horse’s neck as his wet mane flipped up and slapped her across the face. She scrabbled to stay mounted, winding the reins round her wrists.

She could see Max in the distance. She yelled at him but her voice was snatched away by the wind. Cat cantered after him, grappling to keep control of the now petrified horse. Wind howled around them and thunder crashed and thumped, making the ground itself feel as if it was shaking in its boots . . . or melting with fear.

Shrieking to Max to slow down, Cat saw his dark head turn for a second. Suddenly, he disappeared from sight and Cat shouted out in terror. She pushed the horse harder, her eyes searching for him. He was nowhere to be seen. Scared stiff the valley that had claimed Elizabeth had just claimed Max, Cat kept going, determined to find him. Her limbs ached with the effort of keeping her seat and she was soaked to the skin and shivering. She realised Max’s horse had slipped on one of the treacherous ledges in the valley and that he must be lying in the grass, and she called out to him in the rain. She heard something behind her; it sounded like the pounding of another horse’s hooves, and her concentration lapsed for a second. As the sky turned white with another jagged shaft of light, she was blinded. Her wrist slipped free of the reins, and her horse threw her. She crashed to the ground with a sickening thud and felt herself slide into darkness as she rolled over and over. She came to a halt beside a rock.

Over the next few minutes, Cat swam in and out of consciousness, aware of a horse near her, then strong arms gathering her up. She heard voices yelling at one another in French, the words unintelligible through the pouring rain and thunder. Hazily, Cat felt hot breath on her cheek and, in the distance, she thought she heard someone telling her not to think about dying, and something about her being the one rescued for once. Not sure if she had imagined a mouth meeting hers fiercely and a waft of orange blossom scenting the air, Cat passed out cold.

 

Staggering back to La Fleurie with Cat in his arms, Xavier gritted his teeth. He had been horrified when he’d seen her flung from her horse at such speed – she had hit the ground like a broken doll and he hadn’t been able to do anything. He prayed he hadn’t put her in more danger by scooping her up from the undergrowth the way he had but he couldn’t leave her there. He needed her alive and kicking . . .

‘Don’t you dare die on me,’ he murmured, looking down at her. Xavier rubbed his fingers across Cat’s lips again, worried they were turning blue. He saw the ambulance services his father had called carry a pallid-looking Max towards the château on a stretcher and as the rain hammered down on his head, forcing his dark hair into his eyes, Xavier yelled for a doctor to follow him upstairs. He waited with bated breath as the doctor assessed Cat and instructed a nurse to get her into some dry clothes.

‘She’ll be fine,’ the doctor informed him. ‘She’s hurt her ankle and she’ll have a sore head in the morning but apart from that, there isn’t too much to worry about.’ He cheerfully collected up his things. ‘Unless she loses her memory, of course, but probably not much chance of that.’

Standing in the doorway, Xavier leant his head against the frame and stared at Cat. What a mess. There were so many loose ends to tie up, so many things to say. Unable to resist, he went back to the bed and kissed her full, still mouth. Xavier knew he had to sort things out with both Cat – and Angelique, but for now, he was going to stay by Cat’s side.

Blearily opening one eye, Cat turned her head. She was in bed; her curtains were open but she was half lying, half sitting under a sheet, her neck and head propped up by a number of pillows. Staring out of the window, she was almost blinded by the sight of some unapologetically bright lavender she could see bursting into life in the distance. Glistening with droplets of overnight rain and dazzling the eye with indigo, magenta, lilac and violet, the fields stretched proudly out across the Provençal countryside, no doubt providing a glorious scent. Dazed, Cat opened the other eye, wincing as she felt the cracking pain in her head. Whimpering, she struggled to push herself up from the pillows but she couldn’t.

‘Just relax,’ said a voice that seemed to be far away. Bit by bit, Seraphina’s luminous brown eyes and pale skin swam into view. Wearing a white sundress with her hair held back by a red band, she resembled a rather glamorous nurse.

‘W-what happened?’ Cat managed, moving a tongue around a mouth as dry as Ghandi’s flip-flop. Her head hurt, her eyes were stinging and she ached all over. It was like having the most awful hangover – but much, much worse.

‘You can still speak French. Good.’ Seraphina held a cup of water to her mouth. ‘Here, take a sip.’ Tipping it slightly, she fed a straw into Cat’s mouth and helped her drink it. Afterwards, Cat flopped back against the pillows, looking frail. Her hair was tangled from the rain and without a scrap of make-up on, she looked about twelve. If she’d been able to look in the mirror, Cat would have found her skin to be unnaturally waxy-looking and her normally sparkly eyes dull and bloodshot but thankfully she wasn’t able to do more than lift her head a fraction.

Seraphina was taking her role of nursemaid seriously. Her expression was grave as she glanced at some notes on the bedside table. ‘Can you remember your name, your date of birth and what the day is?’

Cat gazed at her. ‘Yes, yes and not sure on the last one. Depends how long I’ve been here.’ Mystified, she inhaled, sure she must be imagining the aroma of raw meat in the air. Cat felt panicked. Just how hard had she hit her head? It couldn’t be normal to be getting wafts of bloody meat under the nose after a head injury, could it?

Seraphina looked relieved to hear Cat speaking so succinctly. ‘Just overnight. Good, so you’re not seriously concussed, then. Do you remember anything at all?’

Cat put a shaky hand to her head and wondered why her ankle felt as if it had been bludgeoned with a hammer. ‘I don’t know.’ She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Images flitted in and out of her head. ‘Hang on, things are coming back. It was raining, I remember that.’ She glanced outside, seeing the brilliant sunshine flooding down and engulfing everything and for a moment she was unsure her memory was as clear as she’d first thought.

Seraphina nodded. ‘You’re right, there was a huge storm yesterday. The rain only stopped a few hours ago.’

‘All right, so I’m not mad, after all.’ Cat thought hard, her brow wrinkling with the effort. ‘Yes, I remember. I was on a horse! It was a huge great thing and I couldn’t control it. Max was there and Guy . . .’ Her eyes snapped open. ‘Oh my God, the row! Oh, Seraphina, it was awful. Max . . . the things he said to your father . . . poor Guy looked as though he was about to have a heart attack. Is he all right?’

Seraphina nodded. ‘He’s fine. Honestly, I think this is the best thing that could have happened.’ She glanced at her hands. ‘I mean, there’s still a lot of talking to do but things are better, I think. Max is fine too – at least, he will be. Anyway, go on. What else do you remember?’