Luc's Revenge. CATHERINE GEORGE

director’s chairs from the boot, then reached in again for a picnic basket. ‘This time we drink our coffee here,’ he announced.

      Portia eyed the basket in surprise. ‘That’s very big for just coffee.’

      He smiled. ‘There is also a picnic for later, should you disapprove of lunch at Ravenswood. Since the kitchen is the only complete room, let us establish ourselves there.’ He paused, chairs in one hand, the basket in the other. ‘Unless you cannot bear to remain that long?’

      ‘But I thought the whole idea of getting me down here today was to give you access to the place,’ she said, frowning.

      The green eyes met hers very directly. ‘Part of the idea only, Portia.’

      Portia turned away, surprised to find she no longer felt in the least uneasy with Luc Brissac. And in his company she was not as opposed to time spent in Turret House as he obviously assumed. ‘Let’s have that coffee, then.’

      Luc placed the chairs near the window looking out over the back garden, then opened one flap of the basket and filled china beakers with coffee from a vacuum flask. He added milk from another flask to Portia’s, and handed it to her with a bow.

      ‘Voilà. That is the way you like it?’

      ‘Yes, it is,’ she said impressed. ‘Thank you.’ She sat down in one of the chairs, looking at him questioningly. ‘Do you need any help with measurements, or anything like that?’

      Luc smiled at her indulgently and shook his head. ‘No. But it is most kind of you to offer.’

      ‘Then why, exactly, am I here?’ she asked.

      ‘If you were not with me, legally I could not enter Turret House.’

      Portia drank some of her coffee. ‘Monsieur Brissac—’

      ‘Luc,’ he contradicted.

      ‘Luc, then,’ she said impatiently. ‘I’ve given up a Saturday to come down here, so surely I’m entitled to know what you want me to do.’

      ‘But I told you that last time we met.’

      She looked at him narrowly. ‘You’ve brought me all this way just to find out why I dislike Turret House?’

      He shrugged. ‘Partly. But surely it is obvious to you by this time that I also desire your company?’

      She stiffened. ‘You could have had that in London.’

      ‘Could I, Portia?’ he said swiftly. ‘If I asked you out to a purely social dinner would you accept? Non, I think not. So this way you are obliged to suffer my company, also to keep your promise.’

      Portia stared down into her coffee for a moment, then looked up to meet the intent green eyes. ‘As I said, I don’t do pretence, so it’s not a case of suffering your company.’

      His eyes gleamed with open triumph. ‘I am honoured, Portia. That was not easy for you to say, I think.’

      ‘No,’ she agreed, and smiled a little. ‘It won’t be easy to tell you what you want to know either, so I require something in return.’

      ‘Anything you desire,’ he said swiftly.

      ‘I’m curious to know why you’re buying Turret House.’

      ‘D’accord,’ he said promptly, then grinned. ‘Better still, you can make guesses.’

      ‘Right,’ she said, feeling suddenly light-hearted. ‘Let’s see, you’re getting married and intend to have a large family?’

      He shook his head. ‘Wrong, mademoiselle. Try again.’

      Startled by how much his answer pleased her, Portia thought for a moment, then said, ‘I’ve got it. You were interested in the elevator. You want the house for a retirement home!’

      Luc chuckled. ‘Wrong again.’

      Portia threw up a hand. ‘I give in.’

      ‘The house is needed as an annexe for Ravenswood. Business there is brisk, and often the hotel is obliged to turn customers away. Turret House is only a mile or two away, and there could be transport from one place to the other. Also,’ he added, ‘the private cove is a great advantage for families with children.’

      Portia smiled at him in delight. ‘But that’s a wonderful idea, Luc. It’s exactly what the place needs, lots of life, with people coming and going.’

      ‘I’m glad you agree.’ He stood up. ‘Come, let us make another inspection. You shall look at everything with the eye of a guest, and tell me if you approve my ideas. But afterwards,’ he added with emphasis, ‘I shall keep you to your promise.’

      As though bent on banishing any lingering ghosts for Portia, the sun broke through the clouds as she went through the house with Luc again. This time, looking at it with an eye to its possibilities as a hotel annexe, the house took on a new personality to Portia as they discussed possible use for each of the rooms, and which alterations would be necessary before it could function as a hotel. She grew enthusiastic and animated, stray curls escaping round her face, but tailed into silence at last as she realised Luc was looking at her without listening to a word she was saying.