Shaking her head, Kate couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t rung back. There had been real tension in his voice. Had he been trying to warn her of something? Or was he simply checking up on her? There was so much she needed to ask him…about Mariamme D’Arbo, mostly. Should she follow her head and conclude that Ms D’Arbo was Guy’s business partner as well as— She drew herself up short. She couldn’t even bear to think about any other possibility. She knew it was the wrong time to be mulling over personal matters… Why couldn’t she just believe in Guy, as she always had?
‘It’s a matter of trust,’ she blurted out, as if her thoughts were too tumultuous to be contained. And when everyone turned to look at her, she added quickly, ‘The maze, I mean… Trust takes time to build—years maybe under normal circumstances…’ She glanced around helplessly. ‘What I’m trying to say is that you’ve all come to trust each other in the space of just a few days. That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘Bravo!’ Megan said, coming to her rescue with a round of applause. ‘Where would we be without trust, eh?’ she demanded, staring round the group.
‘With it we’ll all be back here again next year,’ Dirk ventured, looking hopefully round at his newfound friends for confirmation.
Kate was touched by Dirk’s diffident endorsement of her dream and was relieved when a chorus of agreement met his declaration. It was all she needed to shunt her own concerns on to a siding. This was the group’s last night and she was determined to make it a good one for them. And, as she handed round some aromatic ginger cake, she couldn’t help thinking that without trust she might have been left wondering whether to believe Mariamme D’Arbo or Guy.
Late that same evening Kate was alone in the kitchen when the Countess de Villeneuve arrived. Alone and on foot and in a terrible state, Guy’s mother practically fell into her arms when Kate opened the door. ‘Countess, what’s happened?’ Kate exclaimed as she drew her inside.
‘That woman,’ she managed breathlessly, leaning on Kate’s arm as Kate led her across the room to settle her into what had quickly become her favourite spot by the old range.
Kate didn’t need to ask to whom the Countess was referring, and simply poured a large measure of good brandy into a cut-glass goblet and handed it to her.
‘She’s saying the most terrible things,’ the Countess gasped out between sips.
‘Slow down, take some deep breaths,’ Kate encouraged soothingly, ‘and then try and tell me what’s happened.’
‘I couldn’t stay there,’ the Countess continued, her voice shaking with emotion. ‘I couldn’t watch her making herself comfortable in my home. Not after the terrible things she said. I had to come here to you. I hope I’ve done the right thing—’
‘Of course you have. But surely you can’t mean that Mariamme D’Arbo has moved into the château?’
The Countess could only nod dumbly. ‘She took my engagement ring,’ she managed finally, turning agonised eyes on Kate’s face.
‘Sapphire and diamond?’ The red-rimmed eyes locked on to her face told her all she needed to know. ‘Don’t worry. I promise I’ll get it back for you,’ Kate said, fired with a determination that no amount of bullying by Ms D’Arbo was going to deflate.
‘That’s not all,’ the Countess admitted haltingly.
‘Tell me,’ Kate said, kneeling down by her side.
‘I shouldn’t trouble you with this, but—’
‘Don’t say that,’ Kate said, covering her hands with her own. ‘You did exactly the right thing coming to me.’
The Countess shook her head in helpless despair. ‘I needed somewhere peaceful… Somewhere where I could try and digest all the scandalous things she said.’
‘What scandalous things? What has she said to hurt you so much?’
She said…’ The Countess pressed her lips together as if it was too much for her to express what she had learned in words.
‘Go on,’ Kate urged softly, taking both the Countess’s thin, veined hands between her own. ‘I know who you’re talking about. I’ve met her. So there’s nothing you can say that can possibly surprise me.’
‘Then you know, Kate, how hard she is—how pitiless…’
‘I know how calculating—how driven she is. But I also know that she’s just a bully. She can’t do us any real harm—’
‘No!’ the Countess exclaimed. ‘You’re wrong—’
‘Why don’t we just call the police? We can do it now,’ Kate said, glancing towards the telephone. ‘That woman has no right to move into the château—’
‘No. You don’t understand, Kate. It seems she has every right. She can do so much harm to all of us… You have no idea—’
‘Tell me everything,’ Kate insisted calmly. ‘Then I can start to put your mind at rest.’
‘All right.’ The Countess took a long, shuddering breath. ‘She says she is the illegitimate daughter of my late husband, Guy’s father—’
‘What?’
‘And she says Guy has no option but to make her his partner—’ Her voice wobbled and then broke into uncontrollable sobs.
At that moment Kate could cheerfully have thrown Mariamme D’Arbo bodily out of Villeneuve for the harm she had done, but instead she reached for some kitchen towel and asked quietly, ‘Has she given you any proof of this?’
Guy’s mother shook her head vigorously. ‘Can you believe how cruel she is? Suggesting that Raoul could father a child when I know that we never spent a single night apart from the day we were married?’
‘But that’s your answer,’ Kate pointed out gently. ‘She’s done a terrible thing, cruel beyond belief. But you know the truth. And somehow we’re going to prove that you’re right and that this woman is nothing but a cheap impostor.’
‘But how, Kate… How?’ the Countess keened as she rocked back and forth. ‘She’s terrorising everyone at the château—’
‘Not Madame Duplessis,’ Kate said confidently.
‘No, but until Guy returns no one’s sure what to believe. Without clear leadership they’re afraid to act.’
Kate knew she had no authority to start throwing her weight around… She would just have to be as cunning as her opponent.
‘Do you think you could do something?’ the Countess said, as if reading her mind.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ Kate admitted honestly. ‘But I don’t think we can afford to wait for Guy to return. Who knows what else she might steal?’
‘There’s more,’ the Countess confessed.
‘I need to know everything,’ Kate prompted.
The Countess nodded agreement, mopping her eyes again before she continued in a stronger voice. ‘She says that she has proof that you have contravened the covenants and that she has full authority to repossess La Petite Maison. She wants me to sign some document—’
‘You haven’t?’ Kate said quickly.
‘That’s why I came here—to get away from her.’
‘Good,’ Kate said with a sigh of relief.
‘But she says she can take over the business if she gets proof that Guy knows about your…your… Oh, I’m so sorry, Kate. Your business enterprise,’ she said finally, as if she couldn’t bear to lay any blame at Kate’s door.
‘Hold on,’ Kate said, catching hold of the Countess’s flailing hands. ‘Let’s look at this logically. Why has she waited until now to show herself? Why not seek out your husband during his lifetime?’
The Countess leaned forward, her eyes wide as she confided hoarsely, ‘She says it has taken her up to now to get all her ducks in a row.’
From the way the Countess spoke, as if gathering all the threads of her memory together to make quite sure she got it right, Kate gathered that this was a direct quote. ‘I bet it has,’ she said coolly. ‘Have you managed to speak to Guy at all?’
‘No, Kate. Have you?’
‘I think Ms D’Arbo chose her time well. For some reason, Guy’s had trouble using his mobile, or I know he’d have been in touch long before now.�
�
‘Do you think someone’s got to it?’ the Countess said tensely, clearly relishing the crime novel idiom now that Kate had given her some hope. ‘He won’t stop to use a public telephone if he even suspects there’s a problem here. I know Guy. He’ll drive through the night—’
‘Actually, I think that’s entirely possible,’ Kate confirmed. ‘There’s a lot at stake, and I don’t imagine Mariamme D’Arbo is working alone. I couldn’t trace his number back when he called me… But he may be on his way home right now,’ she mused softly.
‘Oh, do you really think so?’ the Countess said eagerly.
‘Wherever he is, it’s up to me to stop Mademoiselle D’Arbo doing any more damage.’
‘Do you think you can?’
‘I know I can,’ Kate replied with steely determination. ‘But for now, Countess,’ she said softly, training her steady gaze on the old lady’s darting eyes, ‘why don’t you stay over here tonight? Get some sleep. We’ll tackle this together in the morning.’
‘You make it sound so tempting,’ the Countess said wistfully. ‘I’d love to, but what about Madame Duplessis? She must be so worried about me.’
‘Leave Madame Duplessis to me,’ Kate said reassuringly. ‘I need to speak to her in any event.’
‘Well, if you’re quite sure.’
‘I am,’ Kate confirmed, helping Guy’s mother out of the chair. ‘Go to bed,’ she insisted softly, leaning over to plant a kiss on the old lady’s paper-dry cheek. ‘I always keep the room you used before ready for you—just in case,’ she said with a smile. ‘And you should know by now that worries aren’t given house room here at La Petite Maison.’ Kate watched the Countess’s shoulders relax as she turned one last trusting look on her face before mounting the stairs.
Once she was sure her elderly charge was properly reassured, Kate walked over to the telephone and began to dial. As she had known she would be, Madame Duplessis was most co-operative, even more so in light of the fact that Mariamme D’Arbo was already encroaching on the housekeeper’s territory.
‘And she’s wearing all those beautiful clothes that the Count bought for you,’ Madame Duplessis said in a tone as close to outrage as years of control and good manners allowed.
‘Never mind the clothes,’ Kate said, almost amused for a moment by the fact that something so trivial could engage the housekeeper’s attention when there was so much at stake. ‘Can you do what I ask?’
‘But of course, Mademoiselle Foster. It would be my pleasure.’
‘Good. I’ll call round for the package first thing in the morning—before anyone is awake.’
‘I quite understand, mademoiselle,’ Madame Duplessis confirmed briskly. ‘I shall be waiting for you at the rear entrance of the west wing at dawn.’
Having set her scheme in motion, Kate wrote a brief note to Megan, alerting her to the fact that the Countess was staying the night and asking her to say farewell to their guests. Fortunately, as this group had arrived a few days early, there would be a lull now until the next group arrived.
Kate hardly slept at all that night. She was sure now that Mariamme D’Arbo was nothing more than a confidence trickster, a woman whose sole motive in coming to Villeneuve was to plunder as much as she could whilst Guy was away. That certainty, together with the conviction that this was Ms D’Arbo’s day of reckoning, ensured that she was up, dressed and out of the cottage as the first silvery strands of daylight stole across the night sky.
The hand-over was quick and silent. Pocketing the sealed polythene package, Kate jumped back into her car and headed straight for the village. Monsieur Dupont was already standing outside the pharmacie, staring up the road in the direction he knew she would be coming.
‘My brother is waiting for us at the laboratory,’ he said as he climbed in beside her. ‘Do you have everything he requires?’
‘I do,’ Kate confirmed, feeling like an agent in a spy thriller as she handed over the package. ‘Madame Duplessis has labelled the evidence for him.’
‘Hair, I believe you said?’ Monsieur Dupont enquired, holding the package up and squinting at it in the rapidly increasing light.
‘That’s correct,’ Kate said, smiling to herself. ‘A strand of the late Count’s hair and a collection of hairs from Mademoiselle D’Arbo’s hairbrush.’
‘Perfect,’ Monsieur Dupont declared with satisfaction. ‘We shall unmask the impostor with a simple DNA test and set everyone’s mind at rest.’
‘I only hope you’re right,’ Kate said, putting her foot down on the accelerator pedal.
‘I can assure you, Mademoiselle Foster, I am never wrong,’ Monsieur Dupont proclaimed with his customary assurance.
Kate smiled through her exhaustion as she thumped her pillows into submission. Monsieur Dupont had been proved correct and, thanks to his brother, the DNA results had come through quickly, proving beyond doubt that Mariamme D’Arbo was a fraud. She had been escorted off the Villeneuve estate and was now being questioned by the local police, with Interpol waiting in the wings.
Kate knew her loyalties had changed irrevocably after everything that had happened. Villeneuve and everyone connected with it had a far greater hold on her than ever. Even her position as Chief Executive of Freedom Holidays paled by comparison. The look on Comtesse de Villeneuve’s face when she had received irrefutable proof that her late husband had been faithful to her had been more fulfilling than any business deal could ever hope to be, and now Kate fully understood why Guy viewed his role in Villeneuve as a commitment for life.
And Megan was the sort of person who made a difference, Kate realised as she snuggled down under the covers. She had been a wonderful friend to Aunt Alice and now she was taking the Countess under her wing. After their emotional victory celebrations, Kate had wanted Guy’s mother to stay another night, but when Guy had finally been forced to refuel and had rung them to say that he was on his way home the Countess had elected to return to the château—just to reassure herself that everything really was back to normal, she said, asking Megan to accompany her.
Villeneuve was her home too now, Kate realised as she waited for the familiar night sounds to lull her back to sleep. She would resign from the board of Freedom Holidays at the earliest opportunity and once she had managed to convince Guy that the guest house could only enhance his business plans for the estate, she would be free to concentrate all her energies on running Freedom Breaks at La Petite Maison.
CHAPTER TEN
KATE shot bolt upright in bed as a shower of gravel skittered across her window followed by insistent knocking on the front door. Switching on the overhead lamp, she saw that it was just after two o’clock in the morning. Who called at this time, unless it was an emergency? she reasoned, swinging out of bed. Grabbing her robe, she ran down the stairs while any number of horrifying scenarios played out in her mind. Thanks to the lack of electricity she was forced to a halt just inside the kitchen and, fumbling in the dark, she managed to light a couple of candles before hurrying to the door.
Reminding herself that it could be anyone standing on the doorstep, she took a mental step back and yelled, ‘Hello?’
‘Kate, let me in.’
‘Guy!’ Fighting with the locks, she finally managed to get the door open and, gasping with relief, launched herself into his arms. ‘Guy! I thought you were never coming back.’
‘Try and keep me away,’ he said huskily dragging her close.
‘When did you get here?’ she murmured, trailing fingertips across his stubble-roughened face. ‘You look so tired,’ she added, as she stared up at him with concern.
‘I haven’t wasted time sleeping,’ he confirmed. ‘But I really don’t want to talk about my travel arrangements,’ he added, eyes glinting with humour in the candlelight. And then he proved the point with a hard, hungry kiss.
He felt so warm and rough and strong. The rasp of his beard against her face as he kissed her was the most wonderful sensation on earth. Nothing came close to knowing th
at Guy wanted her. It set her senses alight. She gave herself up to him, moulding herself against him, not troubling to hide her hunger as she drew him with her into the house.
‘Hey, hey,’ Guy cautioned in a whisper as, capturing her chin in his hand, he looked into her eyes. ‘What about Megan?’
‘She’s staying at the château,’ Kate explained, ‘With your mother. I’m here on my own.’ She watched as his sensuous lips slowly curved into a smile.
‘In that case, can you give me a bed for the night?’
She gave her answer with her hands, her lips and her eyes, and when they broke apart she said softly, ‘Where have you been?’ Then, meshing her fingers through his hair, she pulled him close as if to keep him with her for ever.
‘Putting those damned covenants to bed once and for all,’ he said, taking her hands in his so that he could kiss each fingertip in turn.
‘How did you do that?’
‘My legal team tracked down some original documents lodged in a vault in Paris,’ Guy told her. ‘Then they needed me to testify in court.’
‘And?’
‘The case closed successfully late yesterday and in our favour.’
‘Oh, Guy, I’m so happy for you!’ Kate said as she burrowed her face into his chest.
‘Happy for us, mon coeur,’ he corrected huskily, cupping her chin and bringing her face up. ‘I rang the château. I heard what you did—for my mother and for Villeneuve. I can’t believe you had to go through all that alone—’
‘I’m not a little girl now, Guy. And I only did what had to be done—’
‘Mais magnifiquement!’
‘Now even I’m impressed,’ she teased him gently as his admiration for her spilled over into his own language.
‘Be serious for a moment, chérie,’ he implored. ‘How can I thank you when you’re like this?’
Kate withheld her suggestion and said instead, ‘So, you aren’t angry with me any more?’
‘Angry with you?’ Guy murmured incredulously as he brushed away the sleep-tangled hair from her face. ‘For goodness’ sake, Kate, what are you talking about?’
The French Count's Mistress Page 17
