“Well, you’ve done a great job of that, little brother.” Julian’s voice had lightened up.
Andre snorted. “Yeah. I made the wise choice of being born second.”
Julian laughed out loud.
“Promise me one thing?” Andre asked.
“What’s that?”
“Promise me that we won’t pit our children against each other. That we’ll teach them to look out for one another. Just as you’ve always done for me.”
“And you have done for Lecie,” Julian added. “Our children will be fine, baby brother…as long as we don’t let Papa influence them too much.”
Andre and Julian’s hearty laughter echoed across the garden as the door behind them opened.
Tasha. Finally. Not that Andre didn’t like his brother’s company, but his wife’s was far superior.
Both men stood as she sauntered across the terrace.
“Tasha…” Julian took her hand. “May I say again, welcome to the family.”
“Thank you, Julian.” Tasha nodded. “And congratulations. I’m sure you and Camille will be wonderful parents.”
Julian chuckled. It was nice to see him smile. Especially since he thought Andre was about to usurp his throne.
Jim and Nola Gordon arrived at Pacifique de Lumière late Friday morning of the following week. They rested in one of the many guest rooms at the house, and then took Tasha and Camille out to dinner in Marseilles.
“So…” Nola picked at her salad and glanced at Camille from time to time. “Tasha tells me you are expecting too.”
With a mouth full of minestrone soup, Camille only nodded and smiled.
“And due about the same time.” Nola’s gaze lingered on Camille for another second or two before drifting over to her daughter. “You girls are going to have such fun.”
“We’re excited,” Tasha said.
“It’s going to be great fun having babies at the same time.” Camille sucked in a breath. “I hope this morning sickness thing passes quickly, though. That’s not too much fun.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled.
“You too?” Jim asked Camille, then pointed his fork at Tasha. “She was pretty sick with it before she and Andre left the States.”
“I’ve not been feeling too bad lately.” Tasha shrugged. “France must agree with me.”
“Lucky you,” Camille said. “I had to get medication for it.” She looked at Tasha. “Did you get set up with a doctor’s appointment yet?”
Tasha nodded. “A week from Monday.”
“Gives you time for a honeymoon.” Camille giggled.
“I think she’s already had a honeymoon,” Nola stated.
Tasha felt her face burning, but she ignored her mother’s jab. She cleared her throat and hoped the embarrassment quickly faded.
“So where are you and Andre going for your honeymoon?” Camille asked.
Tasha knew Camille was trying to change the subject, and she thanked her for it. We’re going for a little R & R at the house in St. Tropez that he inherited from his mother.”
“Oh…” An excited light flashed over Camille’s eyes. “Julian has taken me there. It’s a gorgeous house. And the view is to die for.” She laughed, and added, “I’m jealous.”
“If it’s half as beautiful as the house that Lecie’s inheriting in California, I’ll be thrilled.”
A feeling of peace befell Tasha. She’d hadn’t had any morning sickness since arriving in France. And now that she and Andre were married and about to go on their honeymoon, after the French ceremony tomorrow, she’d begun to feel like everything was finally going her way.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE WEDDING WAS SIMPLE—by de Laurent standards. The guest list consisted of less than twenty people. Tasha’s gown was elegant, the flowers tasteful, and the dress code was a step or two down from black tie.
It’s no wonder that the reception was little more than the cocktail hour the de Laurents typically had before dinner. But it made little difference to Andre and Tasha. As far as they were concerned, they were on their way to a wonderful life together, and a fancy wedding mattered little to the outcome.
When the time came for Andre and Tasha to depart for the airport, she insisted on tossing her bouquet, even though there were all of four single women to vie for the catch.
Lecie, as fate would have it, caught Tasha’s bouquet. That must’ve been some kind of sign, since she’d caught the bouquet at Camille’s wedding, too. At least, Tasha thought it was a sign as she climbed into the limo where her parents were waiting.
They were also on their way to the airport, but they were headed back to the States, while Andre and Tasha’s destination was St. Tropez.
Camille stood in the shadow of the covered archway at Pacifique de Lumière’s main entrance on the second floor. The car carrying Andre and Tasha and her parents had long since disappeared behind the ancient stone walls and massive pine trees that barricaded the estate.
She could hardly wait for Tasha and Andre’s return. They were going to have such fun being pregnant together and having babies at the same time. Their children would not only be cousins, but best friends.
Reluctantly, she turned and headed back inside. Maybe she’d go find Julian and talk to him about hiring a decorator to help her with the nursery.
Camille strolled down the hallway, meeting Parker, the butler, at the main intersection.
“Madam.” Parker stood there straight-faced with his hands behind his back. “There is a long distance telephone call from California. The party, a young lady, is asking for Miss Tasha or madam.”
“Thanks, Parker. I’ll take care of it.” She headed off into the western corridor. Her destination, the sitting room. She’d found it the perfect place to take calls on the house phone. The family rarely spent time in there, so it always afforded silence and privacy.
She slipped into the room, easing the door shut behind her. She picked up the receiver, and said, “Hello. This is Camille de Laurent.”
“Camille?” A familiar voice, yet one she couldn’t identify, greeted her. “It’s Beverly from Electric Avenue. I was looking for Tasha, but they said she’s gone off on her honeymoon.”
“Beverly. Hello, how are you?” Camille asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Yes, Tasha and Andre are on their honeymoon.”