Kaleidoscope (44 page)

The lights in her room were on. The door was closed, and Margaret had apparently gone to bed, but Alexandra could hear someone stirring in her room as she stood outside the door, and then someone pulled it open, and she found herself staring at her husband. He had just arrived a little while before. And Margaret had wisely retired, after greeting him. He offered no explanation as to why he had come, and acted almost as though his visit had been planned and he was expected.

“Henri?” Alexandra stared at him as though she'd seen a ghost.

“You were expecting someone else?” But this time it was not an accusation. He was smiling at her, and she stared at him in amazement. “I certainly hope not. The children are well?”

“Very, thank you. We've had a lovely time.”

“So your mother told me. I saw her when I arrived.”

And then Alexandra could not stand the charade any longer. Why had he come? Why was he there? What threat was he going to make now? But it was
odd, she was not nearly as frightened of him as she had been before. She stood eyeing him curiously from across the room, as he sat down and sipped a glass of champagne he had ordered while he waited for her. “Would you care for some?” He was very nonchalant as he held out his glass to her, and Alexandra could not understand it.

“No, thank you. Henri, why did you come here?” She said coolly.

“I came to see you … and the children….” He spoke cautiously as though he wasn't quite sure what to say. “I thought we needed to talk.” He looked at her with troubled eyes.

“You could have called me.” Her eyes were cold but she was protecting herself from the pain she knew he could cause her.

“Would you have preferred that?” He looked so sad, it tore at her heart, even though she was resisting the impulse to reach out to him. She was still afraid of possible rejection. Maybe he had come to tell her he was going to divorce her. And she wanted to know now.

“I just don't understand why you came here.”

He stood up and set down his glass, and then slowly walked toward her. “To see you,
ma chérie.
Difficult as it may be to believe sometimes, I love you very much … no matter who you are …” He added carefully, “… or who you've become.” He smiled almost shyly at her. “I see you're a redhead again. It's not quite as loud as I remembered it.” He was watching her, looking into her eyes for something he hoped was still there, if he hadn't broken it this time forever. “It was a great shock to me when you told me about … about your family. I think it might have been for anyone
… and I can't come here now and tell you I've reformed, that I won't be demanding anymore, that I'll stop dragging you to the Élysée for dinner … but I accept who you are … if you will accept who I am….” There were tears in his eyes as Alexandra looked up at him in astonishment. This was the man she thought hated her … and here he was, telling her he loved her. “I love you very much. And I want you to come home … in a few days … and if you'd like, I will stay with you here….” He pulled her firmly into his arms and she knew with total certainty that he would never change, but he had come to her with open arms and she owed him a great deal for that. She owed him her life. And she turned her lips up to his with a gentle smile as he laughed softly.

“You know, I love your hair….” He ran his hands through the silky strands of red and they both laughed. Maybe things had changed just enough … perhaps … and if not, she had lived with him for fourteen years … for better or worse … and she had no intention of doing anything different for the rest of it.

He pushed the door closed and took his wife in his arms with a smile of expectation and pleasure. He was glad he had made the trip and as he felt her gentle hands on him, he was even more so.

Chapter 34

Their last night in New York was happy and sad and emotional. They had dinner at the Côte Basque, and Henri and Alexandra brought the girls, Margaret came, at Alexandra's insistence, and Hilary had said something about bringing a friend, which Alexandra thought was a little unusual, but she didn't dare question her sister. But she was secretly thrilled when the friend turned out to be John Chapman. She had always liked him, and she could tell Henri approved of John, looking very handsome in a dark suit, with his quiet ways, and obvious intelligence and good breeding. The group got on famously. Margaret entertained them all, and Henri even let the girls drink champagne at dinner. It was a perfect culmination of the trip, and everyone hugged and kissed good night as though they might never see each other again. Although Hilary and John had insisted on coming to the airport the next day when the others left for Paris.

It was a classic scene with Axelle carrying an enormous doll under each arm, Marie-Louise clutching her new magic kit, from her Aunt Hilary of course, Alexandra's trophies from Bergdorf and Bendel's seemed
virtually limitless, and Margaret's stack of Louis Vuitton seemed to have grown considerably in a mere ten days as Henri attempted to keep track of it all, hold the tickets, and rescue the passports from Axelle's busy little hands. And meanwhile Hilary and Alexandra were talking a mile a minute, promising to meet again as soon as possible. Hilary was thinking of spending Christmas with them in St. Moritz, unless Megan came to New York, in which case she'd come in the spring instead, but in spite of all the words and the frantic talk, the final moment came anyway, as Margaret shepherded the girls onto the plane, waving at Hilary every inch of the way, and Henri left the two women alone, standing apart from his wife, chatting with John, and suddenly Hilary looked into her sister's eyes and began to cry as she reached out to her.

“Axie, I can't leave you again …” She choked on the words, and Alexandra held her tight.

“I know … promise me you'll be all right.” They were crying again, and Hilary thought she would never let go this time. It was too much like the past, the red curls in her arms, the little girl she had loved. “… Axie … I love you … Axie, I …” The echoes of the past rang out in her ears as Alexandra held her tight. “I'll see you soon and I'll call you all the time from Paris.” Henri was beckoning her toward the plane and she knew she had to go. They would be closing the door in a moment, but she couldn't let her go, couldn't leave her alone. And then John walked quietly up to them, and gently took Hilary from her, holding her in his powerful arms as she stood there with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Have a good trip, Alexandra. We'll see you soon.” John said in his quiet voice, as Alexandra slowly
pulled away, her eyes blinded by tears as she looked at Hilary, her eyes huge, her face deathly pale, as John quietly held her, and Alexandra waved for a last time with a tearful smile, and Hilary stared after her and whispered familiar words, “Good-bye, Axie,” she waved and then smiled slowly through her own tears and Alexandra disappeared into the plane with her husband.

“It's all right, sweetheart …” John whispered to Hilary as he held her tight, and suddenly for the first time in her life, she felt safe. She looked up at him, and he smiled. “It's all right, Hillie. …” He held her tightly in his arms and she knew that he was telling her the truth. “Everything's going to be all right now.”

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Copyright © 1987 by Benitreto Productions, Ltd.

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