“Why is that?”
“Because, Camille’s in there having her baby, and I’m out here feeling sorry for myself.”
Andre tightened his embrace. “Tasha, I don’t ever want you to feel guilty about mourning the loss of our child.” He backed her down onto the chair and sat in the one next to her, handing her his hankie.
“We’ve been trying for months, Andre.” She took the handkerchief and wiped her nose. “What if I never get pregnant again?”
“We’re not going to give up that easily.” He shot her a smile. “We’ll bring in the best fertility specialists known to man…if it comes to that.”
If it comes to that. What if it did come to that? And what if the best out there couldn’t do a thing for Tasha?
Tasha leaned on Andre as they stood in front of the hospital’s nursery window. There in the front row, third from the left, was Juliana Renee de Laurent. The name Juliana was chosen for her father, and Renee was Tasha’s middle name.
The baby lay sleeping peacefully in her basinet, and Tasha couldn’t take her eyes off the tiny child. She looked like a miniature Julian, though her hair was more the color of her uncle Andre’s.
Andre nestled Tasha closer. “Isn’t our goddaughter beautiful?”
“Yes.” Tasha nodded. “Yes, she is.”
“She’s bound to bring us luck.”
If there was the slightest possibility of Juliana bringing them luck, then Tasha intended to stick to that baby like glue.
CHAPTER TWENTY
WHEN JULIANA WAS SIX WEEKS OLD, she’d gained nearly three pounds, weighing in now at ten pounds, twelve ounces. Her brown locks had turned darker and curled up, making her look more and more like Julian as each day passed. But her eyes, her eyes were all Camille, sparkling against her rosy cheeks like turquoise jewels.
Tasha glided into the nursery and sailed to the crib where Juliana was resting. She looked down at the baby and smiled. “Hi, baby girl.” She reached down and scooped up the baby. “Did you have a nice nap?”
Juliana raised her fist and giggled.
“I thought so.” Tasha bounced the baby gently in her arms. “You’re such a sweet girl. Your mommy and daddy are so lucky.”
“And Juliana is lucky to have an aunt who loves her as much as you.” Camille seemed to materialize at Tasha’s side.
Tasha looked at Camille, who had a full baby bottle in her hand, and then reluctantly handed over Juliana. Camille sat down in the rocking chair and slipped the bottle into Juliana’s mouth. The baby latched on and started sucking.
Tasha tidied up the changing station, then put the clean laundry away that’d been laid on the chest near the door. Normally, one of the maids would put it away, but Camille had given the staff strict orders not to disturb Juliana when she was sleeping. Instead, she’d instructed them to drop the laundry off by the door and come back later when the baby was awake.
“So how are you feeling?” Camille asked. “Do you think this month will be the month?”
“I should’ve started yesterday.”
“Sounds promising.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.” Tasha glanced at her watch before moving toward the door. “Hey you want to go into Marseilles with me tomorrow? I’m looking for a birthday present for Andre.”
“Oh, yes, his birthday is next week. Maybe you’ll have the best present of all for him.” Camille chuckled. “In the meantime, we’ll go into town and find him a nice Rolex or something.”
Moments after Tasha had left, Julian came in. He kissed Camille, then Juliana. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he beamed down at the two of them with a lingering gaze. Juliana was such a perfect little mix of Julian and Camille. Neither parent could help staring at the baby, mesmerized.
“I’m surprised Tasha’s not in here.” Julian sat down on the cushioned stool at Camille’s feet.
“She was.” Camille lifted her gaze from Juliana’s face, looked at her husband, and then let her eyes drift back down to the baby. “I think she had some errands to run, or something.”
Honestly, Camille couldn’t remember why Tasha had left and that laid a heavy guilt trip on her.
“Well, thank goodness.” Julian pushed himself up and paced the length of the open space in the middle of the room.
Camille looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
“Instead of that underworked nanny, we should’ve hired Andre’s wife. Between the two of you, there’s nothing left for the nanny to do.”
“You need to cut Tasha some slack, Julian. Besides, Juliana is her niece. And I, for one, am thankful that she loves her instead of resents her. After all, had fate not been so cruel, she’d be in the nursery holding her own baby right now.”
“Why don’t they have another child?”
“They’re trying. They’ve been trying for months.”
“Oh…” The single word grated over Julian’s voice with palpable shame. He swiped his hand across his forehead. “I’ll try to go easier on her.”
“Hopefully, this month will be the charm. She is late.”
“What is it the Americans say…?” Julian looked at Camille. “When you least expect it.”
Two days later, Tasha started her period.
Tasha and Andre waited in silence in Dr. Jolie’s office. They’d been referred to the fertility specialist by Dr. Ainsworth. Andre thought they were acting a bit prematurely, but if it made Tasha feel better to come into the doctor’s office and talk to him, then Andre was more than willing to set up the appointment.
Tasha fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, rubbing it between her fingers. As if she knew his eyes were on her, she looked up at Andre and gave him a weak smile.
He reached for her hand, tangled his fingers around hers and gave her a squeeze. “Whatever he says…we’ll get through it together.”
Tasha sucked in a breath, but it did nothing to chase away the anxiety that’d overtaken her face. She wanted a baby. And Andre wanted to give her one. He’d gladly spend every last dime of Uncle Edouard’s inheritance on fertility treatments if he thought it would increase their odds.
The door opened and Dr. Jolie came in. He was a tall, slim fellow with light hair and eyes. Aesthetically pleasing to the senses, he probably had a way of easing his uptight clients—it was working with Andre.
“Andre, Tasha.” He shook their hands and moved behind his desk to sit down. He perused the file and without looking up, he said. “I see you had a miscarriage last September.”