When Strangers Marry (Vallerands #1)(43)

Philippe gazed at his father entreatingly. “You won’t tell Berté, will you, Father?”

“Of course not. But I fear you’ll give yourselves away by the amount of food you leave untouched on your plates tonight.”

“It’s still afternoon,” Justin said. “We’ll be hungry again by supper.”

“I have no doubt that my two growing boys will,” Max replied, and looked at Lysette speculatively. “I wonder about my small wife, however.”

Lysette gave him a sunny smile. “You will have to help me think of something. It is your duty to defend me, n’est-ce pas?”

“Indeed it is.” Max sat with her on the fallen tree trunk, gesturing for Justin to give him a portion of the melon.

“How did you find us?” Lysette removed her apron and passed it to the boys to wipe their hands and faces with.

“According to Noeline, you were in the herb garden. When I went to look for you, I found your basket and a set of tracks.” Max took an appreciative bite of watermelon.

Lysette saw that one of his shirtsleeves was threatening to fall down his forearm. She reached out to roll it more snugly. “And now you’re a coconspirator,” she told him.

He exchanged a smile with her. “I’m merely trying to help you dispose of the evidence.”

Nestled against her husband’s side, Lysette enjoyed the next few minutes of lazy conversation, while the boys regaled them with tales of their latest adventures in the bayou. She was touched by the twins’ obvious admiration of their father and their desire for his approval. What moved her even more, however, was Max’s patience with them, the warm attentiveness of his manner. He was a good father, strong but undeniably loving.

Lysette tried to imagine what it might be like to have a child with Max. Her heart ached a little as she reflected that her children, just like Justin and Philippe, would have to deal with the nasty rumors and dark suspicions that people had about Max’s past. However, she would teach her children to ignore the things people might say about their father, and to love him as he deserved to be loved.

As she was coming to love him.

Stunned by the thought, Lysette remained very still. Yes, she thought, dumbfounded by the recognition that it was true, she was indeed falling in love with him. A tendril of fear curled through her as she reflected that she must keep such feelings private for a while. It was possible that Max would not want her love, that he would not be ready to accept it for a long time. There were too many shadows from the past…. Max could barely bring himself to discuss his first marriage with her, and he grew sullen and irritable whenever she pressed him for information.

Lost in her thoughts, Lysette did not listen to the conversation until she heard Max saying to the boys, “I assume that all lessons have been learned thoroughly, or the two of you would not have time for stealing watermelons.”

Neither of the twins met his gaze. “There was only a little left to study,” Philippe said.

Max laughed. “Then I suggest you finish it before supper. But first find some way to dispose of this mess.”

“What about Berté?” Justin asked. “She will try to kill us when she finds out.”

Max sent his son a reassuring smile. “I’ll handle Berté,” he promised.

“Thank you, Father,” the twins said, watching as Max pulled Lysette to her feet.

As they walked toward the house, Lysette remained silent, her sugar-sticky fingers clasped in Max’s. He sent her a quizzical smile. “Why have you become so quiet?”

“I was just thinking about what a wonderful father you are. It is obvious that the twins adore you. They are very fortunate to have such a loving parent.”

“They are good boys,” he said gruffly. “I’m the fortunate one.”

“You have every excuse in the world to ignore and deny them,” Lysette said, “after the terrible experiences you had with their mother. I have no doubt that you are reminded of her sometimes— Irénée says the twins have Corinne’s eyes. But you never seem to let that interfere with your feelings for them.”

Max released her hand at the mention of his first wife.

“I don’t see anything of her in them.” His tone had cooled several degrees.

“Do you ever talk to them about her?”

“No,” he said curtly.

“It might be good for them. For Justin, in particular. If you explained to him—”

“I’ve spent ten years trying to forget Corinne,” he said, looking ahead with a grim expression. “And so have they. The last thing any of us needs is to discuss her.”

“But she was their mother. You can’t ignore the fact that she existed. Perhaps if you—”

“Let the matter rest,” he said with a sudden vehemence that startled her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Lysette withdrew into an offended silence, wondering if she had been wrong to bring up the subject. But if Max refused to share such a significant part of his past, the part that had changed him so drastically, how could she ever truly come to know him? She longed for intimacy with him… to have his trust, to talk freely about anything, even when the subject was painful or distasteful. Perhaps it was a mistake for her to want such unusual closeness with him. Most women would be happy merely to have an agreeable relationship with their husbands. Her own expression turned grim as she pondered how to be satisfied with what Max was willing to give and not ask for more than that.