Susan Stephens Selection: The French Count's Mistress / The Spaniard's Revenge / Virgin for Sale / Bedded by the Desert King
I like to think that my business is a smooth-running machine. But Château Villeneuve is so beautiful, Guy. The architecture, the grounds, the interior are all exquisite.’
‘All the more reason, surely, to keep it exclusive, to retain its mystique, preserve its perfection.’
‘You make it sound like a museum.’
‘And so it is, in many ways.’
‘Oh?’ Kate said softly. ‘I thought it was your home.’
Megan and Professor Gilman joined them then, remarking on the splendour of the lighting display as they walked up the broad expanse of stone steps that led up to the terrace.
‘Everything all right, Kate?’ Megan asked discreetly as she took her place at the table.
‘Fine.’
‘Don’t lie to me,’ Megan whispered.
‘All right, then,’ Kate said, flashing a glance at Guy, who was conferring with his sommelier on the serving of the wine, and Professor Gilman, who was studying an interesting modern silver peppershaker. ‘I can tell you now that he’s absolutely adamant about enforcing the no-holiday-home rule on the estate. The only way I could get away with it is to offer free holidays—make out that everyone was my personal guest…’
‘Now there’s a thought.’
‘And where would your wages come from?’
‘Point taken.’
‘But look at all this, Megan,’ Kate said, swivelling round in her seat. ‘There’s nothing like it in the whole of Europe—but at the same time there’s no life here. It’s fabulously beautiful, but sterile and bleak.’
‘It needs an injection of Kate, if you ask me,’ Megan supplied, planting her chin on her hand as she surveyed the spectacle of lights.
‘The only thing missing here are the crowds,’ Professor Gilman said when Guy had finished his discussion.’
‘Exactement,’ Guy said, shooting a look at Kate as if to make sure she had heard the professor’s remark.
‘But a few more people couldn’t hurt,’ Professor Gilman added, unaware of the undercurrents around the table. ‘Forgive my bluntness, Count, but I can’t help thinking that you must get awfully lonely here.’
‘Lonely? No,’ he said. ‘I confess there used to be a lot more people here when there were holiday homes on the estate. But I’m afraid there just isn’t room for that sort of thing now.’
‘I can understand your reticence,’ the Professor continued. ‘I have seen some dreadfully insensitive commercialisations of similar heritage sites. But surely several discreet properties could only enhance the area—give it the appearance of a real working estate. I imagine that most of your staff live in the village these days?’
‘That’s true,’ Guy admitted. ‘But I’m sure with the right incentives I could lure them back here.’
‘Surely not, when they have everything they need on their doorstep,’ the Professor argued. ‘Whereas one or two holiday homes of the type I’ve described might add a little spice to this glorious but rather secluded environment. After all, people are prepared to make a little more effort in the short term…’
‘Ah, that’s where Mademoiselle Foster comes in,’ Guy said dryly.
‘Oh, really?’ the Professor said, turning to Kate. ‘I had no idea that you lived here.’
‘I have the only remaining holiday home on the estate.’
‘Is that right?’ the Professor said, her curiosity aroused.
‘I believe Kate has some innovative ideas for the place,’ Guy said innocently.
‘Ideas?’ Professor Gilman said, turning to Kate. ‘For a business?’
If Professor Gilman had been anyone else Kate might have suspected Guy had put her up to it. She looked across the table to see if Megan could come up with another of her brilliant diversionary conversational tactics. But she was out of luck this time.
‘Why don’t you explain what you intend to do with La Petite Maison, Kate,’ Guy suggested dryly. ‘I can see that you would like to hear more, Professor Gilman.’
Oh, no you don’t, Kate thought, shrewdly side-stepping the trap. ‘Professor Gilman, I would be delighted to send you some promotional literature,’ she said calmly, ‘once we are up and running.’
‘I’ll look forward to receiving it,’ the Professor replied, giving Kate an amused, measuring look.
As the Professor prepared to leave later that evening Megan leapt up too. ‘Would you mind if I shared your taxi, Professor Gilman? I fear I won’t be much company. My eyes are playing up—the onset of a migraine, perhaps,’ she said, looking apologetically at Kate.
‘Shall I come with you?’ Kate said, half standing.
‘No offence, but I’d like to go straight to bed,’ Megan explained, pressing her back down in the chair again. ‘That sometimes gets rid of the symptoms—prevents a full-blown attack.’
‘I’ll call my driver at once,’ Guy said.
‘No, no, don’t trouble,’ Megan insisted. ‘It’s only a hop, skip and a jump back to the cottage and I’m sure Professor Gilman won’t mind…’
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ the Professor confirmed.
Guy called a member of his staff across. ‘Would you take these ladies to collect their wraps?’
‘I really should go with them,’ Kate said, starting to get up.
Guy put his hand on her arm, stopping her. ‘Please don’t,’ he said softly. ‘My mother may yet feel strong enough to come down and…’
‘I’m sorry,’ Kate said, not knowing which way to turn. ‘Of course I’ll stay. If there’s even the slightest chance…’ She stopped and put her hand on top of the clenched fist he was resting on the table. ‘The last few months must have been dreadful for you, Guy, assuming the responsibilities of the estate whilst you were still suffering the aftermath of such a dreadful loss.’
Guy took a few moments to respond and then his mouth twisted in bitter agreement. ‘Taking over the business was nothing, Kate. That’s what I do. But losing my father…’ He gave a long shuddering sigh and it was a few moments more before he could bring himself to speak. ‘The accident, your aunt Alice…’ He wiped a hand across his eyes as if to try and erase all the painful memories. ‘It was all so dreadful,’ he said in a voice that was barely audible, ‘and so fast… I still can’t believe he’s gone.’
Reaching out, Kate put her hand on his arm as he continued to stare blindly across the terrace. ‘Would it help to talk about it?’
‘It won’t bring my father back,’ he told her bleakly. ‘I loved him so much, Kate.’
‘I know that,’ she said softly. ‘And you’re still suffering from shock, Guy. It takes time to develop strategies for coping with something so terrible…so unexpected.’
He nodded agreement. ‘And now my mother’s health seems to be failing.’
‘But maybe there’s a chance that can be reversed,’ Kate cut in thoughtfully.
‘Do you really think so?’ he said, touching her with his eagerness.
Kate pressed her lips together as she thought about it. ‘She must feel lost—uncertain as to how she will carry on without your father. It must seem to her as if the whole fabric of her life has been ripped into shreds. But if she was given a new sense of purpose—of self-worth…’
‘But how, Kate? How?’
‘I’m