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Certainly not me. A Parisian orphan who grew up in foster care.
Juliette, the eternal romantic, said the fates always knew we were destined for each other, and she never doubted it from the first. I think back to our wedding day and how thrilled she was to be my maid of honour. I hope to return the favour for her one day soon when she finds someone who meets her fictional book boyfriend expectations.
Daisy’s shrieks whistle through the air, and I hear splashing from the pool.
Sebastian asked whether it would be okay with me if we invited his mother to come on holiday with us. He wanted to make Daisy’s family holiday dream come true. Vivian is a wonderful mother-in-law and we’ve grown close after working together on Rochester Foundation projects, so I didn’t hesitate. She’s popped out for a wander around the old town, and we’ve got the place to ourselves for a while. I love being part of a big close-knit family, and she’s a great help with her granddaughter. We have a private chef at the villa, but we skipped organised childcare because this holiday is all about Daisy.
Sebastian blew me away when he asked me to move back into the house as his girlfriend, and I accepted once I saw he was sincere. He was willing to risk it all for me, and I had to know that because I couldn’t be the reason he lost his family’s goodwill and position in the company if he wasn’t prepared for the potential consequences.
We kept our relationship secret for a couple of months while he figured out how to handle the situation. He took me to visit Greystone, as Daisy’s nanny, to ease us all in gently. Soon after, he returned to break the news of our engagement to his grandfather.
Arthur Rochester took it better than expected. He admitted that he was disappointed Seb wouldn’t be creating the all-powerful business alliance by marrying Lizzy Archer, but then he said that, ultimately, he only ever wanted to stop him from marrying the wrong woman again.
I was shaking when Seb took me to see his grandfather after our romantic engagement in Paris—I was so worried he would think I wasn’t good enough for his grandson. But he was kind and courteous and laid my fears to rest. He said that the most important thing was his grandson and great-granddaughter were happy and he could see that I am definitely therightwoman for that. He gave us his approval to marry and promised Seb he would honour the inheritance terms accordingly.
We didn’t wait… Sebastian may have been the most impatient fiancé in England, and I was equally keen, so we married soon after in a small but elaborate private ceremony at Greystone Manor. Only our closest friends and family attended, and it was the most wonderful day of my life. Daisy was thrilled when we told her we were getting married, and she was the cutest, most hyper flower girl you could imagine. And Damian gave me away.
And now here I am, one year on, in a glorious villa, on a terrace overlooking the dazzling Mediterranean Sea with winding steps that lead down to the secluded beach where we’ve been swimming every morning with Daisy. It’s just like the house by the sea in Daisy’s dream holiday scenario.
An orphaned girl from the suburbs of Paris married to one of the wealthiest men in Europe. When it gets overwhelming, which it sometimes does, I remind myself that the important thing is how much we love each other and how well matched we are. I couldn’t love Seb more, or Daisy for that matter, and I can truly say I have never been happier. Sometimes I worry it’s all too good to be true. I don’t deserve this good fortune and I’ll lose my hard-won happiness in some freak disaster. I’ve never truly forgotten the trauma of losing both my parents, and sometimes it still haunts me. Once when I awoke in a panic in the depths of the night, I confided in Seb about my anxiety, and he said whenever I can’t sleep, I must wake him, and he’ll hold me until I fall back to sleep.
He makes everything right and I feel safe with him.
Rising from the sunbed, I wrap my silk sarong around my waist and slip my tanned feet into my flip-flops and pad towards the end of the huge terrace near the pool where Daisy is laughing hysterically. Seb is throwing the ball to her, and she is leaping about in the water trying to catch it, but more often missing and collapsing into the pool with an enormous splash. Her sweet face is a picture of delight and my heart fills with a fierce tenderness for this little girl who came into my life so unexpectedly, and who is now officially my stepdaughter.
‘Nathalie, Nathalie,’ she shouts. ‘Please come in and play with us. We’re playing an amazing game of catch.’
Seb looks up at me and beckons me in after he wipes his dripping hair out of his face. ‘Yes, I second that. Come and join us. The water’s fantastic.’
I walk to the steps, remove my flip-flops and sarong, and slide my sun-warmed body into the pool, gradually, grimacing as the cool water washes over my stomach.
‘It’s not that cold,’ giggles Daisy, her butterfly float wiggling about. ‘It’s heated,’ she promises and jumps up and down whilst I wade a few steps and then plunge under the water and swim towards them.
When I emerge, Seb reaches for me and says, ‘Ah. Just how I like it. My two girls together.’ Daisy paddles towards us and lunges to wrap her wiry cold arms around my neck and I swing her about.
Vivian appears and walks towards us. ‘Having a good time?’
We chat a bit and then she says, ‘The old town is beautiful. Why not go in for dinner this evening—just you two?’
‘Don’t you want to come?’ I ask.
She shakes her head. ‘I’ve had a long day and can think of nothing better than curling up in the villa with my granddaughter. Want to watch a movie and eat pizza with Grandma?’
Daisy cheers, and Seb and I exchange a look.
Date night on the Riviera.
‘Perfect,’ he says. ‘How about one more swim before we order your pizza and Nathalie and I get ready to head out?’
Daisy paddles frantically, her freckled face wreathed in smiles as we both swim slowly alongside her.
‘Where’s my favourite swimming costume?’ asks Seb, when Daisy’s out of earshot and her grandma is helping her out of the pool.
I smirk. ‘You mean the one that shows my nipples, I suppose.’
‘Of course.’ His eyes stray to my cleavage. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes in that bikini, but it’s hard to beat that costume. It’s got a lot to answer for.’
‘I’ll wear it for you tomorrow,’ I say, laughing. He always goes on about that costume, which is the only reason I brought it. I’ve got far more expensive and prettier costumes, courtesy of Marian’s designer label, than that old one.
