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Glancing down ruefully at her clothes, Kate hardly knew where to begin. ‘I’m fine,’ she said as a catch-all. ‘Stop worrying about me, Megan. I’m a big girl now.’
‘Oh, really.’ Megan sighed, clearly unconvinced.
‘I met Guy…’
‘Now you do surprise me,’ Megan murmured.
‘I fell in the stream…’
‘And he fished you out.’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Nothing hurt?’
‘Only my pride.’
‘Well, that’s good, because I’ve got some news for you.’
From 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 guests,’ Kate added, making a final mental check on the bedrooms. ‘Fresh flowers—’
‘What’s that?’
‘Fresh flowers for the bedrooms and around the cottage,’ Kate said, looking worried suddenly. ‘I completely forgot—and I’d like some for the table outside.’ She planned to present much of the food on one long table in the garden. The Countess had offered several trestle tables that could be placed together to fit her needs, but the flowers—
‘Marie Therese said…’ Megan began.
‘Marie Therese?’ Kate said, her mouth curving in a wry smile. ‘My, we are on good terms.’
‘The Countess expressly asked me to call her by her first name, just like your aunt used to do,’ Megan revealed, her plump cheeks flushing pink as she revealed this development.
‘Well, go on then,’ Kate encouraged. ‘What did Marie Therese say to you?’ she enquired, her happy emerald eyes glowing like jewels.
‘She said we could have the pick of her nurseries and the garden,’ Megan said with a contented flourish as she forked up the last scrap of her dessert.
‘But that’s wonderful!’ Kate said, mentally erasing another worry. ‘So,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Our first house-guests arrive just before noon…and everyone else will be here shortly after that.’
‘That’s right,’ Megan said, watching Kate’s face, knowing they had set themselves an almost impossibly tight schedule.
But in spite of all the problems, not least of which was the possibility that Guy could turn up unannounced, Kate felt a rush of incredible excitement rather than apprehension. ‘Then I think we’d better get to bed,’ she said with a last glance around. ‘It’s going to be a hectic day tomorrow.’
‘You can say that again,’ Megan muttered as she started blowing out candles. ‘And I only hope you’re right about our guests finding the lack of electricity a novelty.’
‘As long as they have plenty of hot water they’ll be fine,’ Kate said confidently, ‘and the old range is firing on all cylinders since Giles came to service it.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ Megan repeated as she handed Kate a candle to light her way upstairs. ‘And I hope they’re careful. The last thing we need is another fire.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts, Megan,’ Kate said wryly. ‘I told you Guy promised to sort out the electrical supply if I hadn’t managed to influence the local authorities by the time he returned home from his business trip.’
‘He told you this during that fishing trip of his, I suppose. The same fishing trip where you disappeared off on that walk and returned home looking like a love-struck mermaid? Yes, I remember,’ Megan said dryly. ‘And will you be telling him why you need the electricity so badly?’
‘I’ll think of something,’ Kate said distractedly, knowing that Megan had just guaranteed her a sleepless night.
Three anxious-looking elderly spinsters from the dramatically desolate Pennine region in the North of England, one ashen-faced retired rocker from Bermondsey and an exotically dressed middle-aged man with more facial hair than Father Christmas constituted something less, and yet, at the same time, rather more than the high-flying executives Kate had envisaged for her first guests after advertising La Petite Maison in the business section of one of the broadsheets. Fortunately, Megan took it all in her stride.
‘It couldn’t have worked out better,’ she declared, leaning over Kate’s shoulder to peer out of the window at them. ‘They’re an interesting group of people and they won’t be so edgy. And, my word, those men certainly add some colour!’ She squinted professionally along her paintbrush as they both stared at the gold brocade caftan of one and the fit-where-they-touch, shiny vinyl pants of the other.
‘It couldn’t have worked out better?’ Kate echoed. ‘And how do you make that out?’ she said as she loaded some tumblers on to a tray. ‘They’ll hardly blend in. How am I going to explain them to the Countess?’
‘Say they’re house guests,’ Megan suggested promptly. ‘Well, it’s true,’ she added as she turned to greet the three ladies, who were just coming down the stairs. Far from being alarmed by the lack of electricity, they had declared themselves enchanted by the rustic charm of the cottage. ‘Now, wait a minute,’ Megan said, stalling midway across the room. ‘Who’s that I see coming up the path?’
‘Oh, no.’ Kate’s poise slipped as she followed Megan’s gaze. ‘I don’t believe it.’ As her heart took off at the sight of Guy striding towards the front door, she became vaguely but very thankfully aware that Megan had the good sense to usher their three female visitors out of the back door.
A distinctive rap sounded on the door, then Guy walked into the kitchen. ‘Kate—’
‘Guy!’ she exclaimed rather too energetically. ‘What a surprise!’
‘Is it?’ he said curiously. ‘I have got the right day, haven’t I?’ And, when she looked at him blankly, he added a reminder, ‘Your house-warming party?’
So, he had made it after all… The fact that her heart was roaring in her ears had nothing whatever to do with the fact that her first house guests were currently walking right by the window, Kate realised, as she shifted position so that he was forced to look in the opposite direction. ‘Oh, yes…yes, of course,’ she said, trying not to accept that her throat had dried just at the sight of him in his casual linen suit and crisp white shirt. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, clapping her hands together in pretended recovery. ‘Of course I’m expecting you. I’m not quite ready yet, that’s all.’
‘Good,’ he said, oblivious to the sexual waves with which he was flooding out her kitchen. ‘Well, I’m glad I got here before everyone else because I’ve got a surprise for you. Bien, aren’t you going to ask me what it is?’
Kate tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ he said with a smile that would have melted a heart of stone, but only succeeded in making Kate stand rigid in an attempt to hide her feelings. ‘It’s just the man to connect the electricity for you,’ he said, sounding pleased with himself, patently unaware of the riot he was causing to her senses. ‘I brought him with me so there could be no mistake and no more delays. I left him up at that small electrical station on the hill, where he’s sorting out the supply for you right now.’
‘Oh, wonderful…’ Kate said, wondering insanely if he could hear her heart jangling in her chest.
Almost as if drawn by invisible hands, Guy moved slowly past her to stare out of the window.
‘Who are those people?’ he said mildly. ‘I don’t think I recognise them.’
‘Which people?’ Kate said, hearing her voice come out in a squeak.
‘Are they actors come to entertain at the party?’
She realised she was wringing her hands in alarm—and Guy could read body language with the best of them, Kate realised, shoving them behind her back fast.
‘Or are they perhaps—’ it was like being held by her ankles over hot coals, Kate thought as she waited for him to finish ‘—paying guests, Kate?’ The edge in his voice wasn’t half as effective as the prolonged silence that came after the accusation.
‘Well?’ he demanded quietly. ‘Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?’
There was something approaching menace in his voice and it rattled Kate’s faltering hold on composure. ‘You said you wouldn’t mind my opening an office,’ she reasoned, gulping hard.
‘An office, no,’ Guy agreed in the same measured tone.
‘So? Is this so different?’
‘Is what so different?’
‘My guest house.’
‘Your what?’ he spat out.
‘You heard me,’ Kate insisted, drawing herself up. She would not be intimidated—she would not. His arms shot out like two steel girders, keeping her imprisoned with her back against the counter.
‘The covenants on La Petite Maison do not permit it,’ he growled very close to her face.
The force of his stare would have been enough to make most people fall to their knees and beg for mercy, but Kate had seen that look before. Tossing up her head, she confronted the molten steel gaze unblinking. ‘Well, I didn’t know anything about your wretched covenants when I started to plan all this and now it’s too late to do anything about it.’
‘You obviously haven’t read through those documents I gave you… Well, have you, Kate?’ he demanded fiercely. ‘And you might have done better to make some enquiries before you started planning your new venture,’ he said curtly. ‘But you know what really annoys me?’ he added, staring straight into her eyes, and as Kate shook her head dumbly, he went on, ‘The fact that you couldn’t be honest with me—that you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me about these plans of yours.’
‘Perhaps if you hadn’t kept on about those wretched covenants—’
‘This has nothing to do with covenants, Kate, and you know it,’ Guy snapped back at her. ‘This is about trust.’
He kept her trapped in front of him, forcing her to draw her head back from the heat in his gaze.
‘Trust between two people,’ he continued, ‘requires that they are straight with each other. Don’t shake your head at me like that, as if you haven’t the slightest idea what I’m talking about…’
