Julien waved to her and she came to meet them, a picnic basket at her side. He balanced Matthieu-Philippe with one hand and took the basket from her with the other and a scold. ‘You should not be lugging around something so heavy,ma cherie.’
She laughed at his concern. ‘I won’t start waddling until next month, I have some time to enjoy walking yet.’
He kissed her cheek. ‘I love it when you waddle. I think it’s adorable.’ Julien nodded to her belly. ‘How is our littleenfantthis fine day?’
Emma covered her belly with a hand. ‘Stubborn like his father and just as insistent. He’s been kicking since sunrise.’ She stifled a yawn.
‘Ah, that’s why you were up early.’ Julien led them to a grassy area at the end of the row and set Matthieu-Philippe down. ‘Help me with the blanket,mon fils,’ he instructed. ‘Mama is to rest. We will wait on her for luncheon. She is not to lift a finger.’ Matthieu-Philippe giggled and thought it was a great game to unpack the picnic hamper. This was the life he’d dreamed of, Julien thought. To eat lunch on a blanket in one’s own vineyard, his son and his wife beside him. Nothing could be finer.
Nothing could be finer than a vineyard picnic, even if one was six months pregnant with a mule kicking inside. Emma’s eyes caught Julien’s and she smiled. He was thinking the same. She could tell by the way he looked at her, his slate-blue eyes soft with a special tenderness he reserved just for her and their son. She was not sure she’d done anything to deserve finding such happiness twice in her lifetime. But she was thankful for it every day.
She had loved Garrett, fiercely, devotedly. She did not doubt that love now. She’d learned there were different kinds of love, that she could love Garrett and Julien, and that love would be different for each because they were different. That loving one did not demean the love she had for the other. Emma watched her handsome husband lay out the picnic and wondered if Garrett had known they might suit. That if anything happened to him, that Julien would be there in some capacity as a friend, perhaps to see her through? Had Garrett imagined something more for them? If so, she loved him all the more for it.
‘What is it,ma cherie? You look contemplative.’ Julien passed her a plate with a ham sandwich on it and a mug of lemonade. The only thing she didn’t like about pregnancy was not being able to drink champagne.
‘I’m just happy, that’s all.’ She smiled. ‘Youronclesent a note this morning. He’ll be joining us for dinner. We can celebrate his birthday.’ She knew it pleased Julien that the rift between him and hisonclehad healed. It had not been easy and it had taken the birth of their son to really bring Etienne around, but it had happened. Etienne was her family now, too. She wanted that family to be whole.
Julien’s eyes glinted mischievously. ‘He’ll be gloating about that new award his wine has won. He’ll be insufferable.’
‘He’s earned it. I am happy for him. He can win all the awards he wants for thechampenoisas long as he leaves the champagne to us,’ she laughed and then sobered. ‘We’ll have to be at our best though. I hear rumour there’s a new widow looking to head her family’s champagne house. Madame Pomeroy.’
Julien stretched out on the blanket. ‘I’m not worried. I’ve got the best widow in town.’
She gave him a soft look. With Julien, she was home in all the ways that mattered. Gone were the days when she struggled against betrayal, struggled to find acceptance. She’d found it here with him. ‘Here’s to another good year, Julien Archambeau, and to my liaison with my Champagne Count.Famille et terre tout les temps.’
