When Strangers Marry (Vallerands #1)(100)

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In the spring, Alexandre married Henriette Clement, and the wedding proved to be an occasion of great happiness for all concerned. For a while it had seemed that the scandal of Etienne Sagesse’s death would prevent Diron Clement from allowing his daughter to marry a Vallerand. However, the old man was persuaded to see the rightness of the match, and he gave his consent with a show of calculating authority, terrified that someone might see the softhearted motives beneath all his scheming.

Lysette was thrilled when she received a letter from her sister Jacqueline, a gentle-spirited letter asking her forgiveness for the long silence between them. It led Lysette to hope that Jeanne and Gaspard would relent soon and recognize her marriage to Max. At Lysette’s insistence, Jacqueline and her elderly husband came to stay at the plantation for nearly a month. Although Max disliked the intrusion on his privacy, he endured the visit because it brought Lysette such happiness.

Soon after Alexandre’s wedding, Philippe left for France to continue his studies and visit all the places he had read and dreamed of for so long. Although the family begged and prodded Justin to go as well, the boy chose to stay behind, declaring that he had no interest in moldy museums and ancient ruins. With his brother gone, Justin often prowled around New Orleans alone, sometimes standing at the riverfront for hours and gazing after every departing ship as though it were his only chance of escape.

Justin had changed after the events of the past autumn, becoming a far more mature and considerate young man, the defiance of his boyhood finally slipping away. He spent much of his time in his father’s company, the two of them deepening their relationship and becoming closer than anyone ever could have expected.

It was not long before Lysette discovered she was with child. She was amused by Max’s attitude that she had accomplished something quite remarkable. “Vraiment, it is not all that unexpected,” she teased him. “As your mother says, the only remarkable thing is that it took this long!”

“If you give me a daughter,” he had told her, enfolding her in his arms, “I’ll lay the world at your feet.”

“I might decide to give you a son,” she said. “Wouldn’t you like another son?”

He shook his head with a grin. “No, petite, we need more women in the family.”

Max had been excluded from Corinne’s pregnancy, as was the usual way, and in truth, none of it had been significant to him until the twins had been born. With Lysette, however, he took an indelicate interest.

If there had been a question in anyone’s mind about whether or not Maximilien doted on his wife, it was, forever banished. Each time Lysette experienced a twinge of discomfort or a trace of nausea, the family physician was summoned, and soundly berated if he did not arrive immediately. Irénée told one of her friends in strictest confidence that despite the doctor’s protests, Maximilien insisted on staying in the room while Lysette was being examined. The elderly ladies exclaimed over it with horrified delight during an entire Thursday afternoon.

To Lysette’s disgruntlement, she was compelled by convention to enter confinement when the baby began to show. As was the Creole custom, she had to withdraw from public view and attend only small gatherings at home or private parties with close friends. To relieve Lysette’s boredom for the last two or three months of the pregnancy, Max curtailed his activities in town and spent most of his time at the plantation. He brought her books, games, engravings, and on one Saturday evening he even hired actors from the St. Pierre to perform a play in their drawing room.

On the night of that memorable occasion, Lysette was feeling particularly content, marveling at the fact that her husband would go to such lengths to please her. She smiled and snuggled in Max’s arms as he carried her upstairs, resting her hand on the taut curve of her stomach. “How lucky I am to be your wife,” she said.

Max smiled sardonically. “Not long ago, you wouldn’t have found anyone to agree with you.”

“Well, now they all see how they misjudged you, and they realize what a wonderful man you are, bien-aimé.”

“I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks of me,” he said, his eyes dark and warm. “Just so long as you are happy.”

“I could be happier.”

“Oh?” His brow raised. “Tell me what you want, my love, and it’s yours.”

Lysette played idly with the knot of his cravat. “I will let you know when we’re in bed.”

Max laughed softly. “For a woman who is enceinte, you are remarkably passionate, petite.”

“Is that a problem?”

A wicked gleam entered his eyes. “A problem I will gladly take care of,” he promised. Lysette laughed and kicked her slippers off, letting them thump down the stairs as he carried her to the bedroom.