Susan Stephens Selection: The French Count's Mistress / The Spaniard's Revenge / Virgin for Sale / Bedded by the Desert King
the way Megan was assessing her reaction with sneaky looks in the mirror whilst pretending to be fully occupied checking out the sets of paintbrushes she was arranging on the worktop, Kate thought the news might not be good. ‘Go on.’
‘Three of our guests phoned to ask if they could arrive a little early—so I telephoned the others and asked…’
‘Oh, Megan, you didn’t…’
‘As we are going to be welcoming half the neighbourhood to our opening bash I thought it would be a grand occasion they shouldn’t miss.’
‘You did?’ Kate said, throwing Megan a look of fond exasperation.
‘I did,’ Megan admitted, shooting Kate a look through her lashes to see if she was forgiven. ‘Well, it’s in at the deep end, pet. And that’s by far the best way, if you ask me. I can’t bear to see you getting so worked up over this business. After all these years you should know better than anyone that there’s not a person alive who could put one over on young Guy. Why don’t you just come clean and tell him you intend to run a guest house…?’
‘No, Megan,’ Kate said firmly. ‘I can assure you…’
‘Assure me all you like,’ Megan broke in flatly. ‘But he’s as stubborn as you are and he’s got a lot on his plate at the moment, what with restoring the château, recovering the business and worrying about his mother. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner everything’s out in the open, the better.’
‘Like you said, he’s got enough on his plate,’ Kate said. ‘And where should I confront him, do you think—in front of our first guests?’
‘And half the village,’ Megan reminded Kate gaily, refusing to be discouraged.
‘I’m sorry,’ Kate said, putting an arm around Megan’s shoulders to give her a hug. ‘I know you’re right. I just can’t seem to find the right moment… And you can stop looking at me like that,’ she said, trying not to smile when Megan’s eyebrows shot up. OK, Kate thought wryly, so she would add crisis management to her list of accomplishments. Mentally rolling up her sleeves, she ran quickly through a checklist. ‘Any news of the electricity?’
‘Not a word,’ Megan said.
‘Right, leave that to me. Are you ready to roll?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ Megan confirmed.
‘And I can easily bring forward my order for fresh vegetables from the château,’ Kate murmured thoughtfully, ‘so that’s not a problem.’ And Guy had said he was going away for a few days, so what on earth was she worrying about?
By the time he got back everything would be working like clockwork. ‘I’m glad you said our guests could come earlier, Megan. Suddenly I can’t wait to get this new business of ours up and running.’
Just a few days later the first guests’ arrival at La Petite Maison took Kate completely by surprise. Megan was in the back garden, setting up some easels under a canopy where she planned to allow the children from the village to test their artistic skills at the party, while Kate was busy in the kitchen preparing food with her long hair piled up and secured by a piece of vivid emerald-green chiffon. She had covered her simple working clothes with one of her capacious white aprons whose patch pockets contained all sorts of essential items, from a ball of string to a corkscrew. The windows and the doors had been left open so that she and Megan could exchange news on their individual progress at the shout, and fragrant cooking aromas had been escaping for hours so that the cottage was enveloped in a cocoon of mouthwateringly good smells.
Kate was so wrapped up in piping a decoration on top of one of her cakes that she missed the first timid knock, but a second, louder tap called her attention to the door. Putting down the piping bag, she called out, ‘Come straight in,’ then hurried to the door, wiping her hands on the front of her apron as she went. ‘Madame la Comtesse!’ she exclaimed, amazed to see Guy’s mother on the threshold, accompanied by Madame Duplessis.
‘Ah, I knew it would be inconvenient,’ the Dowager Countess exclaimed, taking a step backward as she put a lace-gloved hand to her mouth.
‘Not at all,’ Kate insisted, standing back encouragingly.
‘Well—if you’re sure,’ the elderly lady said hesitantly, peering curiously past Kate into the room. ‘Only there is so much talk… I couldn’t resist coming to see what all the fuss is about. Not that I listen to gossip,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s just that everyone is so excited about the party…’ She trailed off with a wistful, ‘And I shan’t be there…’
‘But why shouldn’t you come?’ Kate said, flashing a look at Madame Duplessis, whom she hoped would back her up. Before Madame Duplessis had a chance to speak, Megan bustled back inside.
‘Why not indeed?’ Megan declared.
‘Megan? What are you doing here?’ the Countess said, reaching out as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes.
‘I’m here to inject a little chaos into Kate’s well-ordered home,’ Megan informed her as she took hold of the Countess’s hands in her warm grip and raised them to her lips. ‘You look pale,’ she said with her customary frankness.
‘Ah, well.’ The Countess sighed dismissively. ‘They’re saying I should come to this party. What do you think about it, Megan?’
‘What harm could it do?’ Megan said frankly.
The Countess looked from one to the other as if seeking reassurance from them all. ‘Oh, no,’ she protested, fluttering her hands. ‘I’m far too old for that sort of thing.’
‘Nonsense,’ Kate insisted as she removed her apron. ‘And, as a matter of fact, I could do with some help.’ Ignoring Madame Duplessis’s shocked look, Kate continued to give voice to her plan as she escorted the Countess across the room to the most comfortable chair. ‘You see, madame, there will be many more people than I had imagined at first…’
‘The place will be overrun,’ Megan cut in enthusiastically. ‘We’re desperate for help…’
‘I could help,’ Madame Duplessis offered, looking quickly at the Countess for confirmation.
‘We both could,’ the Countess of Villeneuve declared firmly as she settled herself down on to the plump cushions. ‘There was a time when I held parties twice a year for everyone in the village… You remember, Megan? I know you came once or twice with dear Alice…’ She stopped and had to recover her composure. ‘But Kate,’ she said at last, injecting some vigour into the sadness, ‘you must tell us what to do.’
‘That was a good move of yours,’ Megan declared later over supper when they were alone. ‘You accomplished more than all the doctors could with that one suggestion to the Countess.’
Kate brushed off the praise with a small gesture as she heaped Megan’s plate with a second slice of still warm cherry clafoutis. ‘Cream?’ Adding a little pouring cream, she passed the sugar-dusted, crisp and creamy batter pudding across the table to Megan. Then, easing back in her chair, she smothered a yawn. ‘I was just so thrilled to see the sparkle back in her eyes again. I only hope she knows what she’s taking on. Do you think we’re ready, Megan?’
Glancing round the kitchen, Megan smiled. ‘I know we are.’
Every available surface was stacked high with Kate’s delectable cakes and pastries, and plenty more had been taken back to the château to be stored overnight in the massive refrigerators.
‘No wonder you’re tired,’ Megan said sympathetically. ‘You’ve made enough to feed half of France, never mind half the village.’
‘I just didn’t want them to be disappointed.’
Megan made a scoffing noise. ‘No chance of that.’
‘And I wanted to make a good impression on our first