A Millionaire for Cinderella(22)

“Ana was about to tell me about Nigel Rougeau.” That made Ana look up.

“She was the one who found the box,” he explained.

“We weren’t trying to pry, I swear,” Patience said. “I put the box on the bureau while I was organizing your drawer and Nigel—the cat—knocked it on the floor. We saw the name when we were picking up the mess. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, dear. It was probably Nigel’s way of demanding attention.” Ana gave a long, sad sigh. “He never did like being kept a secret.”

She meant Nigel Rougeau. Realizing this, Stuart and Patience exchanged a look. Apparently cats and their namesake shared personality traits after all.

“Maybe it’s time I told our story,” Ana said, smoothing the sheets again.

“Should I leave?” Patience asked. “Let you talk about family business...”

“No, dear. You can stay,” Ana told her. “You’re like family.”

Stuart could tell Patience was still wavering, so he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the chair next to his. “Please stay.”

She looked down at their joined fingers. “This is okay, too,” he said. “She knows.”

“Oh.” The blush returned.

“Nigel loved when women blushed. He used to say every woman’s cheek has its own special shade. He was a painter I knew in Paris.”

“You were his model. The painting on the wall.”

“He and I preferred the term muse. Our relationship was far deeper than artist and model.” She sighed. “He had such talent.”

The reverence in her voice took Stuart aback. “Why didn’t you mention him before?” he asked. Why keep a man she so clearly worshipped a secret?

“Some things are too painful to mention.” Next to him, Patience stiffened. They both understood all too well what Ana meant. “You don’t have to tell us now, either,” Patience said.

“Yes,” he agreed. “We’ll understand.”

“No, I want to. I’m sure he’s furious that I’ve stayed quiet this long.” Ana spoke in the present tense, as if he were in the room with them.

“We met the summer I graduated high school. I was on a grand tour, being bored to tears with tours of cathedrals and palaces and had sneaked away to see some of the more forbidden parts of Paris. Instead, I met Nigel. It was love at first sight. When the tour moved on, I stayed behind.”

Her voice grew gravelly. Stuart reached over and poured her a glass of water. As he handed the drink to her, he saw her eyes had grown wet. “We were going to do great things in the art world. He would paint, I would be the inspiration. The Diakonova to his Salvador Dali.”

“What happened?” Patience asked. The two of them leaned forward, curious.

“Your grandfather happened, of course. You know our parents passed away when I was a child.” Stuart nodded. Losing your parents young seemed to be Duchenko tradition.

“Because he was the eldest, Theodore became my legal guardian. When he found out Nigel and I were living together—Nigel considered marriage a bourgeois institution—he went crazy. He flew to Paris to ‘bring me home.’ Said he would not allow his seventeen-year-old sister to ruin the Duchenko name by living in sin with some two-bit, fortune-hunting painter. I always wondered whether if Nigel had been more successful, if Theodore might have had a different view.”

She paused to take another drink before continuing. “And then, he saw Nigel’s work.”

“The painting hanging in the studio.”

His aunt gave a wistful smile. “That was one of so many studies. Nigel was a student of the human form and being his muse...”

“He studied your form the most.” Patience’s comment earned a blush. It was the first time Stuart ever saw his aunt color in embarrassment.

“Your grandfather was doubly furious. He told me in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t come home and live like a proper lady, he would destroy Nigel’s career before it had ever started.”

Patience gave a soft gasp. “Surely, he didn’t mean...”

“I’m sure he did,” Stuart replied. “Grandpa Theodore could be ruthless when he wanted to be.” Didn’t matter who was involved. His sister, his grandson.

Reading his mind, Patience squeezed his hand, the gesture replacing the emptiness inside him with warmth. Grateful, he pressed her fingers to his lips.

“What did you do?” he asked Ana, knowing the answer.

“What could I do? I was only seventeen. If I refused, it would be the end of Nigel’s career, and I couldn’t do that to him. He was born for greatness.”

So, instead, she sacrificed her happiness for his sake. Stuart wanted to strangle his grandfather.

“You must have loved him very much,” Patience whispered.

“He was my soul mate.” Ana smiled a watery smile, only to have it melt away seconds later. “I told Nigel, I’d come back. That as soon as I was eighteen I would find him. We could use my money to protect ourselves from Theodore’s influence.”

“But you didn’t go back.” She’d moved to Boston and never returned to Paris.

A tear slipped down Ana’s face. “There was nothing to go back to. A few weeks after I left, Nigel was killed in a motorcycle accident. He always rode too fast...”

Her voice grew wobbly, and the tears fell more frequently. “Later I heard Theodore had hired someone to purchase all his paintings of me and have them destroyed. All his work gone forever.”

“Oh, Tetya.” There were no words. Stuart jumped to his feet and wrapped his arms around her, anger toward his grandfather building as Ana shook silently against him. Here he’d thought marrying Gloria was the old man’s low point. He couldn’t be more wrong.

A comforting warmth buffeted him. Patience stood by his side, her hand gently rubbing circles on Ana’s back. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Giving a sniff, his aunt lifted her head. While her eyes were red and puffy, Stuart saw the familiar backbone finding its way back. “My sweet child,” she said, swiping at her cheeks, “why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything. Either of you.”

Her absolution did little to alleviate the hurt he felt on her behalf. “But if I’d known...”

“What? You’d have called him on his behavior? Theodore knew what he was doing. He was a selfish man who didn’t care who he hurt.”

No, thought Stuart, he didn’t.

She touched his cheek, tenderly, like the surrogate grandmother she’d become. “I’m just glad he didn’t destroy your heart the way he did mine.”

“Me, too.” Although he’d come damn close.

Emotionally and physically worn-out, Ana dozed off a short while later. Patience waited by the doorway while Stuart tucked the older woman in and gave her a goodbye kiss.



“This explains why she named all the cats Nigel,” Patience said, once they stepped into the corridor. “She was keeping her lover’s memory alive.” It broke her heart to think of Ana—sweet, gentle Ana—spending a lifetime mourning her only love. How could Theodore ruin his sister’s happiness like that? All because she’d dared to fall in love with the wrong kind of man?

Life really did stink sometimes.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stuart looking back over his shoulder. “I knew my grandfather could be cold, but I always thought what happened with Gloria was a case of him being seduced. Now I wonder...” Rather than finish the sentence, he looked down at the linoleum. Didn’t matter. Patience could guess what he was thinking. In spite of what he said regarding his grandfather’s involvement, he still placed the bulk of the betrayal on Gloria’s shoulders. Ana’s story shifted the blame more evenly. “Ironic, isn’t it?” he said. “My grandfather being so intent on protecting the Duchenko name and fortune, only to make a spectacle of himself decades later by marrying a fortune hunter himself?”

“You heard Ana. He was selfish. Selfish people only care about what benefits them.”

“True.” He left out a deep breath. “Goes to show, you really can’t trust anyone.”

“That’s not true.” Patience rushed to keep the walls from reforming. “You can trust Ana. And you can trust me.” Staring directly at him, she dared him to look into her soul and see her sincerity. “I swear.”

“I know.” He went back to studying the floor.

This morning, Patience had joked about his glasses looking sexy and hip. At the moment, however, he just looked lost. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to wrap her arms around her waist and hold him close. He started at first, but it wasn’t long before he hugged her back, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I’m as bad as he was, you know that?”

“What are you talking about?” Pulling back, she frowned at him. “If you’re talking about your grandfather, you couldn’t be more wrong.” The two men were day and night. “I’ve seen how much you care about Ana. For crying out loud, you’ve been in here visiting every day since the accident. You make sure she has the best doctors, the best therapy. Hell, you went to the humane society dinner dance for her.”