Page 102 of A Touch of Charm
“She just arrived, and I brought her straight here to find you,” Anna said with a smile, wiping tears from her face at the same time.
At the far end of the room, blocking the window as if she were an apparition illuminated from the back, the older woman lifted her hands to her mouth, then clasped her chest as she gasped. Andre’s eyes were locked with the woman standing there but his gaze didn’t falter, and Thea watched as the bustling practice around him seeming to fade as recognition settled over him. It was not joy that softened his jaw, but something closer to disbelief, threaded through with a restrained ache that spoke of years gone by.
Thea felt her chest grow heavy, though she wasn’t sure why. She took a step back so as not to intrude but couldn’t stop watching. It was a moment not meant for her, perhaps not meant for anyone, but it was impossible to ignore the way Andre froze in place, torn between moving forward and staying rooted. He blinked a few times when his eyes turned red rimmed. And then he stepped forward, calling out “Mama!” as he, the tall and strong man, fell into the embrace of the woman who’d outstretched her arms. It was not Thea’s moment, but she knew instinctively that something important had shifted here at Harley Street, in that very moment a miracle had occurred in matters of the heart.
*
The last hourunraveled like a dream Andre hadn’t dared to entertain. His mother, here, standing before him, the years of separation dissolving in the hum of conversation and the surprised laughter of introductions. Anna, stalwart and composed, had stayed by his mother’s side through it all. Meanwhile, the parade of his friends—Nick with his steady presence, Wendy’s pragmatic efficiency, Alfie’s wide-eyed wonder, and Felix’s easy charm—had one by one made their bows, their genuine warmth smoothing what could have remained stilted and cautious.
Then Wendy had ushered in Pippa and Bea, followed shortly by Stan and Alex, each of them adding another layer of lighthearted acceptance, drawing his mother into their circle of aristocrats. His new family combined with his old. Andre still struggled to grasp his fortune. The somber weight he’d carried for years, the silence he’d told himself might stretch forever, was lifting. It wasn’t just unexpected; it was unimaginable. And all this time, Thea remained by his side, and he felt his chest fill with the love surrounding him.
The moment didn’t linger—the looming ball called them all away soon after. One by one, his friends departed to prepare, joking about last-minute wardrobe disasters and the inevitable rush. Even Anna offered a gentle farewell, leaving their mother only briefly to retrieve her things.
“Andre, il mio caro ragazzo ormai cresciuto.”Andre, my dear boy, all grown up. His mother’s gentle voice roused him from his inner thoughts. Her gaze settled on him, misty and soft, as though she had spent the better part of the hour reflecting, herself. “To see you here, to see this life you’ve built… I wondered—” Her voice caught briefly, and she gathered herself. “I wondered, sometimes, if you’d forgotten how much you always meant to me. I see now you never forgot who you were.”
Andre swallowed hard and worked to keep his voice steady, though his heart thudded in his chest. “Mama, I—”
She held up a hand, her lips curving faintly before turning her attention to Thea, who stood at his side. “And you,” she continued, her voice warming, as though drawing Thea into the intimacy of years-long affection. “You see him, don’t you? Not for his name, not for his position, but for who he is. I always knew… I always knew there would be someone who could love him for the man I raised him to be. But to meet you and see the happiness he wears so plainly now…” She paused with a teary smile. “There are no words for how proud I am. Of both of you.”
Thea’s hand tightened around Andre’s. He glanced at her, noticing the glimmer pooling in her eyes, though she blinked quickly to keep it from spilling over. Pride stirred in his chest, but it was accompanied by something deeper, something closer to gratitude. He nodded once to his mother, not trusting himself to speak right away, and settled his free hand over the one Thea clasped in his.
The flickering warmth of the gas lights in his treatment room offset the empty quiet that filled the space without the others. His mother stepped closer, soft fabric brushing against the polished wood floor as she extended a palm, revealing a small velvet box. She opened it with the care of someone unveiling a treasure.
Inside sat a ring that caught the hearth’s glow and magnified it—an imposing ruby circled by sapphires and a halo of diamonds, all set meticulously in gold.
“This,” his mother began, her voice imbued with a reverence that made even Thea fall utterly still, “belonged to my grandmother. It is part of the Grimaldi jewels, passed down only when the heart finds its home.” She exhaled softly and looked at Andre, her eyes piercing as though they shared a secret no one else could understand. “It belongs to you now, if you’ll take it, my son.”
Andre, for once at a loss, closed the box and met his mother’s gaze. Her slight nod encouraged him, steadied him. Then, before hesitation could creep in, he turned to Thea. She stared up at him, her lips parting in a soft gasp as her gaze darted between his face and the closed box still in his hand. He dropped to one knee, lifting her hand into his, and opened the box once again.
When he slipped the ring onto her finger, tears glistened across her cheeks, though she smiled through them, luminous as dawn. Andre looked at her, his free hand framing hers around the ring.
“Thea,” he said, his voice steady now as warmth swelled within him. “No wealth, no treasure could surpass you. You are my greatest riches, and I will protect you always.”
Thea’s lips trembled as her smile widened. “Andre,” she murmured, her voice barely above breath, “you’ve already given me everything my heart desired.”
The weight of the moment wrapped around them as his mother pressed a hand to her chest, emotion evident in her shining eyes. Andre’s resolve deepened, his heart declaring what words could only begin to say. This was more than a reunion. It was a new beginning.
Chapter Thirty-Six
This was theend.
That night at Anna’s townhouse, where the ball was about to begin, Thea had a foreboding sensation.
Andre could feel the danger vibrating in the air. Although he’d agreed with Alex and Stan that they wouldn’t leave Baron von List out of sight, the moment the Prussian stepped into the ballroom, Andre’s heart fell to his knees. He’d also seen it in the eyes of Nick, Alfie, and Felix, when their eyes met Andre’s—List entered as if he’d been invited.
Stan came to Andre’s side just as he did the night Thea had been abducted.
“I can’t fight with my injury,” Stan said, “but if he as much as tries to come close to my sister again, I’ll find a way to—”
“It won’t come to that,” Alfie said when he came between them. This time, Bea wasn’t with him, rather she stood next to Thea. And with them were Nick and his wife Pippa. As the daughters of an earl and a duke, they were following the princess everywhere that evening.
“The ladies will not be leaving her alone, and we won’t let List out of sight.”
In the far end of the room, however, Andre spotted Alex. He spoke agitatedly with another man who looked royal, dressed in an impeccable uniform.
“I’m going to see what the matter is,” Stan announced and walked away.
Laughter and music intertwined with the clinking of crystal glasses, as the crowd ebbed and flowed in a seamless, elegant chaos. Yet, amid the splendor, Andre’s eyes never strayed far from Thea. The air felt just like that night at Alfie’s wedding, his chest tightening with an unrelenting unease—the kind that turned even the most gilded gathering into a place fraught with shadows only he could see. But Thea smiled graciously, holding court in the ballroom. She belonged there like the chandeliers, she was the sparkling light of the ball.
