скачать книгу бесплатно
‘I thought they’d be useful for teaching—help people see what I’m doing during demonstrations,’ Kate explained. ‘You’re the second person to remark on them,’ she admitted, smiling to herself as she put the kettle on the hob.
‘How is his lordship?’
‘How did you know I meant Guy?’
‘Oh, come now, Kate,’ Megan said as she eased her bare feet out of a pair of shabby loafers and wiggled her toes. ‘There’s no need to be coy with me. Don’t tell me you two haven’t been catching up on old times?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Kate said, glad to have her back turned as she buried her head in a cupboard to search out some crockery.
‘I might be an old fogey,’ Megan remarked dryly, ‘but I can still remember the sparks flying between you two when you used to come here as a youngster. I can’t believe he’s ignoring you now you’re here for good…’
‘Ah—’
‘You haven’t told him!’
‘Not exactly,’ Kate admitted, spooning coffee granules into the mugs.
‘Don’t you think it’s about time you did?’ Megan demanded as she replanted the chopsticks holding up her cloud of magenta hair.
‘It’s not that easy, Megan.’
‘Don’t be silly. Of course it’s that easy,’ Megan argued, bustling over to the range to assume control of the coffee preparation. ‘Go and sit down and tell me what’s been happening. I know something’s up—and if we’re going to be working together…’
‘You’re right,’ Kate said, going to perch on a stool. ‘It’s only fair to tell you that this latest business venture of mine probably won’t even get off the ground.’
‘What?’ Megan said, throwing a stare over her shoulder. ‘I can see I got here in the nick of time. This is more serious than I thought. Here,’ she said, advancing towards Kate like a galleon in full sail. ‘Drink your coffee and then you’d better start right back at the beginning and tell me what I’ve missed.’
‘But you’ve seen enough contracts in your time,’ Megan remarked when Kate had brought her up to speed. ‘How different can this one be?’
‘Strictly speaking it isn’t a contract, it’s a list of covenants,’ Kate explained. ‘Secondly, the only document I’ve read so far is a translation—’
‘And the original is where?’ Megan said between bites of her third slice of lemon drizzle cake.
‘With my solicitor,’ Kate reassured her. ‘No wonder he was desperate to speak to me…’
‘But you’ll ask him to obtain an independent translation?’ Megan cut in.
‘Already done. I telephoned him just before you arrived.’
‘Good,’ Megan said, pushing her plate away as if the whole matter had been put to bed. ‘So while your solicitor’s attending to that side of things, why don’t you and I concentrate on Freedom Holidays’ newest new venture, Freedom Breaks? Our first guests arrive when?’
‘Too soon.’
‘Well, don’t sound so worried,’ Megan said, patting Kate’s arm with a plump, lavishly beringed hand. ‘This old carpet bag of mine is like a magician’s trunk.’ She opened it up to illustrate her point, allowing a shambles of well-used artists’ paraphernalia to spill across the floor. ‘I’ve got everything in here to keep the world and his wife hap… Who’s that now?’ she said, breaking off to stare towards the door. ‘Could this be our first guest?’ She cocked her head to one side like a super-alert squirrel.
Kate’s gaze switched desperately from Megan, to the mess on the floor, to the door. If it was Guy he wouldn’t wait to be invited into the cottage, he would walk straight in as he always had… Springing to her feet, she pelted across the room, hoping to get there before he could…hoping somehow to distract him so he wouldn’t notice. It never occurred to her once that it could be anyone else, and by the time she opened the door her heart was leaping around in her chest like a demented rabbit.
‘Guy, what a surprise,’ she lied, flinging open the door and then closing it again quickly to just a crack. She saw his eyebrows quirk with bemusement as she tried in vain to block his view into the cottage.
‘Are you busy?’ he said, peering over her head. ‘If so, I can always call back another time—’
‘We’re not too busy to see you,’ Megan called out before Kate had the chance to stop her. ‘There’s only me here, Your Worship—’
‘Now, Megan, stop that,’ Guy insisted, moving past Kate to sweep Megan off her feet as if she weighed no more than a baby. ‘I’ve told you before, Megan O’Reilly, I’m the only one licensed to tease around here—’
‘Licensed to thrill, more like,’ Megan declared, making a great fuss of straightening her clothes as he set her down. ‘Look at you!’ she said, standing back to give him a proper inspection. ‘Blue jeans and work shirt! And here was me thinking that real counts walked around in powdered wigs with a flurry of flunkeys trailing after them.’
‘Once upon a time, maybe,’ Guy said, grinning. ‘But this is here and now, Megan, when even real counts have to get down and dirty checking out the stock in their cellars.’
Megan’s brows rose in twin arches of mischief. ‘If you need any help with the stock-taking—’
Kate shut the door with a bang as if to shock some sanity back into Megan’s thinking. She shouldn’t be encouraging Guy; she should be finding some way of getting rid of him before he drew his own conclusions from the dozens of paint brushes littering the floor… But even Megan seemed dazed when presented by such an impossibly virile and aristocratic male.
‘If I do need any help, Megan, you’ll be the first person I call on,’ Guy promised.
But, in spite of his warm assurances, Kate felt herself growing increasingly tense. His hail-fellow-well-met eye-line might be resolutely fixed on Megan’s face but his lips were tugged down in an unmistakable show of speculation. And what he said next only confirmed her suspicions.
‘So, what are you doing here, Megan?’ he said, affecting a harmless interest. ‘I thought you had settled into that teaching job at the college. The term hasn’t finished already, has it?’
The silence only lasted for a moment, but for Kate it seemed to go on for ever. And when Megan did speak her voice had lost its customary brightness, leaving it dry and unconvincing. ‘I had a better offer—’ Her gaze glanced apologetically off Kate’s.
‘Really?’ Guy said mildly. ‘Anything exciting?’
‘Ooh, yes,’ she began enthusiastically. Then, remembering she wasn’t supposed to talk about it, she pressed her lips flat.
‘Aren’t you allowed to discuss it?’ Guy prompted sympathetically. ‘The details aren’t finalised yet,’ Megan explained awkwardly, spreading her arms wide in a gesture of innocence and resignation.
Kate knew Megan had always found it impossible to tell untruths, but at least Guy didn’t press her. He just stood viewing them both with his arms loosely crossed over his chest as if they were a couple of naughty schoolgirls and he their indulgent master.
‘Perhaps you can enlighten me, Kate?’ he said, switching his attention abruptly to her.
The suggestion was made so lightly…almost playfully, anyone else might have been taken in and been tempted to lower their guard, but it didn’t fool Kate for a minute. Guy was hot on the trail. He probably only needed a few more pieces of the jigsaw and—
‘So, how is her ladyship bearing up, Guy?’ Megan demanded in a voice grown unusually strident.
‘Well enough, I think.’
A few moments passed during which Kate was relieved to see Guy accept Megan’s conversational detour.
‘You don’t sound too sure,’ Megan observed gently, with the familiarity years of acquaintance with Guy’s family had conferred upon her.
‘She’s taking a long time to get over the loss of my father.’
‘Of course,’ Megan agreed softly. ‘As you must be, Guy.’
His expression and the tilt of his head confirmed her deduction. ‘And she misses Madame Broadbent too—we all do…’ His gaze found Kate’s and held there for a moment.
That look was the key to unlocking Kate’s feelings…and her doubt too. What would Aunt Alice have made of her plans and the deception she now seemed locked into? She had to remind herself that it was for love of Aunt Alice that she found herself in Villeneuve at all. But surely Aunt Alice must have intended her to live in the cottage when she left it to her…and everything Aunt Alice stood for was encapsulated in her plans for La Petite Maison—love, sanctuary, happiness, fun and relaxation, self-fulfilment…
Dragging her eyes away from Guy, she found them drawn back to Megan. Even the little she had read about the covenants had told her that carrying out any form of business at the cottage was expressly forbidden… Forgetting the potential for financial loss, Megan had given up her job, her whole way of life, to come and teach at La Petite Maison. Kate’s mouth firmed as she considered the implications. One thing was sure—she had gone too far to back out now.
‘Did you come for anything special, Guy?’ She forced a little steel into her voice so that the subtext suggested she had lots of things to be getting on with, as must he…
‘Should I have made an appointment?’ he demanded, throwing her a darkly amused glance from beneath an extraordinary fringe of pitch-black lashes.
‘An appointment would have made everything possible,’ Kate said innocently, just to show she hadn’t forgotten their initial confrontation at the château.
‘Everything?’ Guy mused softly, as he sampled the stubble on his chin with a strong tanned hand. ‘Now you do have my full attention.’
‘Now, now,’ Megan warned, coming to stand between them. ‘That’s enough fooling around for one day, your High and Mightyness, or it’s back to the dungeons for you.’
‘If you say so, Megan O’Reilly,’ Guy agreed, holding up his hands in mock-submission. ‘Who am I to countermand the order of a direct descendant of the illustrious Brian Boru that ancient High King of Ireland?’
Well done, Megan! Kate thought, noticing how her friend had concealed the evidence of her impending tutorials with a simple sweep of her dirndl skirt. But she should have known that it was far too little too late to fool Guy.
‘That’s rather a lot of paintbrushes you’ve dropped there, Megan. Even for you—’
Kate could only look on helplessly as he hunkered down. Pushing Megan’s skirt aside, he gathered up an armful of brushes and then looked up, baiting Kate with a triumphant stare.
‘Hey!’ Megan exclaimed, performing an impromptu tap dance on the spot. ‘Less of this rifling beneath an old woman’s skirts…and watch how you handle those brushes, young Guy. I’ll not have their tips mashed by you.’
Getting up, Guy handed them to her. ‘I believe you dropped these, Ms O’Reilly.’
‘And I’ll have less of your blarney,’ Megan exclaimed, clearly flustered. ‘Kate and me’s got things to talk about—’
‘So you’re not going to offer me a piece of that delicious-looking gâteau—’
‘Cake,’ Megan corrected, moving the plate away from him and planting herself firmly in front of it.
‘Of course you can have some,’ Kate said, relenting. If they sent him packing he’d only be back—and he might have come about something important—like saying he would overlook the covenants. Before she knew it he had dropped into a chair, groaning with contentment as he bit into the softly yielding lemon sponge.
‘Delicious,’ he murmured, closing his eyes to savour it. ‘I must have more.’
‘No, you mustn’t,’ Megan said decisively, swooping on the door and holding it open for him. ‘I’ll not have you shirking your duties now you’re shouldering the responsibility of this estate.’
Guy took Megan’s mock-scolding a lot better than she took his teasing, Kate noticed. But as he reached the door he paused. Sweeping up Megan’s hand in his own, he brought it to his lips and murmured, ‘I’ll only do as you say if you agree to have dinner with me at the château this evening, Ms O’Reilly, and be sure to bring along your delightful hostess, Mademoiselle Foster. Then,’ he added, throwing a penetrating glance at Kate, ‘we can discuss the possibility of art lessons—privately, or in a group, it makes no difference to me. Though we would have to find you some accommodation where you could teach,’ he pointed out while his eyes affected a beguiling innocence. ‘The covenants on this cottage are quite specific, you know, Megan. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to encourage Kate to fall foul of them. Well, am I right, Ms O’Reilly?’
As he made a final mocking bow, Megan made a noise roughly similar to Concorde taking off. ‘That boy doesn’t change,’ she complained as Kate went to shut the door on him.
‘That boy is nearly forty years old, over six foot tall and has amassed a fortune in the region of a billion Euros,’ Kate pointed out quietly as she watched Guy stride off down the path. ‘He’s no fool…’
‘I’ll expect you both at eight,’ he called back, almost as if he knew she would still be there watching him.
‘He’s still a boy to me,’ Megan grumbled, knowing she had been well and truly outmanoeuvred. ‘I just hope he knows how to cook.’
‘I think he keeps a chef at the château now,’ Kate murmured distractedly as her eyes trailed Guy’s back until he had disappeared out of sight.
‘Well, you’re taking it all very calmly, I must say,’ Megan observed when Kate finally let the latch drop.
Leaning back against the door, Kate exhaled with relief.
‘Well, say something,’ Megan pressed. ‘Aren’t you worried at all?’
‘Of course I’m worried. And not just about the covenants.’
‘Explain.’
It wouldn’t make Megan feel any better to know that the covenants were by far the least of Kate’s worries. ‘What can I do, Megan?’ she said finally. ‘We’ll just have to carry on with our plans as if everything was OK.’
‘And Guy?’ Megan pressed.
‘I’ll tell Guy—when the moment’s right.’
‘And when will that be?’ Megan demanded, drumming her fingertips on the table.
‘Before our first guests arrive,’ Kate said, more in an effort to convince herself than in an attempt to placate Megan.
‘Just don’t leave it until the last minute.’
‘I won’t,’ Kate said confidently. ‘Now, would you like a bath? Thanks to Giles mending the range I’ve got plenty of hot water, even if I’m still waiting for the electricity to be switched on.’
‘No electricity!’ Megan exclaimed. ‘Lord save us! What are you thinking, child? You can’t run a guest house without electricity…’
‘I’ve managed perfectly well up until now,’ Kate replied. ‘And if necessary I shall run the cottage for profit in exactly the same way. Because you see, Megan, no one—not even Guy, Count de Villeneuve himself—is going to stop me making La Petite Maison one of the most successful retreats in the world.’
‘Then I wish you luck, Kate,’ Megan said, suddenly serious. ‘Because if I know Guy, you’re going to need it.’
* * *
He sent a car for them. Not just any old car, or the four-wheel-drive Guy used to get about the estate, but a sleek aubergine-coloured limousine complete with uniformed driver.
‘Are you impressed? Because I am!’ Megan enthused, though Kate noticed her eyes were on the driver rather than the car.
Kate hummed her agreement as she gazed out of the window. How she had ever agreed to this she had no idea. And she was wearing The Dress. She gave a wry smile. Once she would probably have turned up in blue jeans with holes in them just to be awkward, but now… Well, it was rather nice to wear a couture dress for once. In fact, now she had the money to do so, she would probably wear a lot more of them. Guy had given her an appetite—
‘All right, pet? No regrets about this dinner engagement?’
‘Not yet,’ Kate admitted wryly.
Guy was waiting for them outside the grand double entrance door to the château. His pale jacket only accentuated the rich bronze tones of his skin and Kate thought his muscular legs seemed longer than ever as he loped down the steps to greet them.
‘Welcome,’ he exclaimed, holding open the door for her before the chauffeur could get to it. ‘Welcome to Château Villeneuve, Kate. It’s good to have you here for a social visit rather than a period of recuperation.’
‘A very short recuperation,’ she reminded him as his warm hand closed around hers.
‘But an enjoyable one, I hope.’
‘Of course. I have always loved the château,’ she said, struggling to keep her voice even while he kept hold of her hand.
