It Started with a Secret

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It Started with a Secret Page 1

by Jill Mansell




  Also by Jill Mansell

  Miranda’s Big Mistake

  Sheer Mischief

  An Offer You Can’t Refuse

  Millie’s Fling

  Perfect Timing

  Rumor Has It

  Take a Chance on Me

  Staying at Daisy’s

  To the Moon and Back

  Nadia Knows Best

  A Walk in the Park

  Thinking of You

  Don’t Want to Miss a Thing

  The Unexpected Consequences of Love

  Making Your Mind Up

  Falling for You

  Good at Games

  The One You Really Want

  You and Me, Always

  Three Amazing Things About You

  Solo

  Meet Me at Beachcomber Bay

  Head Over Heels

  This Could Change Everything

  Sheer Mischief

  Fast Friends

  Maybe This Time

  Kiss

  Mixed Doubles

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  Books. Change. Lives.

  Copyright © 2020 by Jill Mansell

  Cover and internal design © 2020 by Sourcebooks

  Cover design by Elsie Lyons

  Cover images © Six_Characters/Getty Images, Creativika Graphics/Shutterstock, Elenamiv/Shutterstock

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

  Published by Sourcebooks Landmark, an imprint of Sourcebooks

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

  (630) 961-3900

  sourcebooks.com

  Simultaneously published in 2020 in the United Kingdom by Headline Review, an imprint of Headline Publishing Group, a Hachette UK Company.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Mansell, Jill, author.

  Title: It started with a secret / Jill Mansell.

  Description: Naperville : Sourcebooks Landmark, [2020]

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019042347 | (trade paperback)

  Subjects: LCSH: Domestic fiction. | GSAFD: Humorous fiction. | Love stories.

  Classification: LCC PR6063.A395 I8 2020 | DDC 823/.914--dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019042347

  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  Chapter 1

  Lainey could hear the helicopter before it came into view over the tops of the trees. The powerful thud thud thud of the rotor blades was quite thrilling out here in the depths of the French countryside. She wondered what it would be like to actually take a trip in a helicopter.

  Blinking, she shielded her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. “Here they are then, right on time.”

  Bill, standing next to her on the ancient stone steps of the chateau, said, “Remember, anything they want, they get. Before they even know they want it.”

  The faint tremor in her boss’s voice signaled just how vital it was that this stay was a success. Lainey passed him a tissue so he could mop his brow.

  “Everything’s going to be fine.” They’d worked so hard; every eventuality had been covered. What could possibly go wrong?

  Well, apart from water pipes bursting, ceilings falling in, or the electronics blowing up, but now wasn’t the time to think about things like that.

  Together they followed the gray-and-silver helicopter’s trajectory as it drew nearer, descending from a cloudless cobalt-blue sky and aiming for the landing pad in the center of the front lawn.

  Bill puffed out a lungful of air and wiped his palms with an already damp and mangled tissue. “Everything has to be better than fine. It needs to be perfect.”

  Lainey felt his pain. Behind them, Bill’s wife was shrilly calling out to everyone to gather on the steps in order to greet their all-important guests, Downton style. Bill and Biddy, in their late fifties, were lifelong Francophiles who had made the decision two years ago to take the plunge and exchange their immaculate semidetached home in Hounslow for a dilapidated twelve-bedroom chateau in the Loire valley, with the aim of living the good life, enjoying the warmer weather and spectacular scenery, and socializing with like-minded expats and friendly locals alike. In order to finance the dream, the plan had been to host guests at the chateau and hold weddings and special events there too.

  In theory, it had sounded like everyone’s idea of an idyllic existence, but it hadn’t turned out to be nearly as easy or as much fun as they’d envisaged. A centuries-old chateau was an always-ravenous money pit, and the small bequest left to them by Biddy’s parents had soon been swallowed up. The moment the fences were repaired, the drains collapsed. Once the leaking roof was fixed, fifty huge window frames needed replacing. No sooner were the chimneys unblocked than the ancient plumbing system disintegrated and the floorboards developed dry rot.

  But Bill and Biddy had valiantly plowed on, addressing the locals in loud, mangled Frang
lais and getting frustrated when they were unable to make themselves understood. A year ago, they’d taken on several members of staff, Lainey among them, and finally opened their expensively refurbished doors to paying guests.

  Today’s were the most VIP visitors by far. Wyatt Hilstanton, a member of a hugely wealthy Boston banking dynasty, had relocated to London several years ago and was arriving here with his British girlfriend, Penny, with the intention of proposing to her. It was to be the ultimate romantic surprise, and every last detail had been planned for weeks. The chateau was full of Hilstantons, who had arrived earlier and were currently hiding upstairs until it was time to celebrate.

  Best of all, Wyatt’s father had booked the chateau for an entire week in August for the wedding itself.

  As Lainey straightened her shoulders, footsteps sounded behind her, and a hand came to rest lightly on her bottom. Turning, she glimpsed the flash of a grin before Anton raised his eyebrows in a Who, me? protestation of innocence. But his hand stayed where it was, and now it was her turn to smile. Maybe when they were off duty later tonight, they could celebrate Wyatt and Penny’s engagement in their own way.

  The helicopter settled at the very center of the landing pad. When the rotor blades had stopped turning, the guests alighted and made their way across the grass. “Just remember, everyone,” Biddy murmured, “be nice.”

  “Welcome, welcome to Chateau de Rafale!” Bill pumped Wyatt’s hand in greeting and bowed, then shook Penny’s hand even more energetically and did a kind of manly curtsy. Biddy followed his lead, while the rest of them stood there and beamed until their cheeks ached.

  Lainey studied Penny Carter, Wyatt’s girlfriend, and was relieved to see she wasn’t an obvious gold-digger type. Unless this was the nifty double bluff employed by all the most successful gold diggers. But no, she was pretty certain that wasn’t the case here. While Wyatt was encased head to toe in Ralph Lauren, possibly a size too small for him, Penny was dressed in a white sleeveless cotton top, a plain knee-length pink skirt, and sensible low-heeled espadrilles. Her hair and nails were short and unadorned. She had a pretty heart-shaped face and a sweet smile.

  “I can’t believe how beautiful this place is,” she marveled. “I’ve never stayed in a chateau before!”

  “Everything’s ready for you,” said Bill. “Let me show you upstairs to your rooms.”

  * * *

  “My favorite stepson,” Majella exclaimed with delight when she heard Seth’s voice on the phone. “Hello, darling! How are you?”

  “Good, thanks. I’ve just taken a look at the ad on the website.” As always, Seth came straight to the point. “Did you write it?”

  “No.” Majella was frantically searching the kitchen for her car keys. “I called the agency and explained what we needed, and they told me to leave it with them. Oh dear, is there a problem?” She hadn’t spotted any errors, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any.

  “Right, let me read it out to you: ‘Live-in domestic couple, full-time permanent position, cleaning and organization. Competitive salary. Cornwall.’” Seth paused. “And that’s it.”

  “Oh. Is it wrong?”

  “It’s so…bland.”

  Majella sighed. “I know. But that’s what those kinds of adverts are like.”

  “Remind me what you said about the couple you interviewed on Monday.”

  “They were boring.” She pulled a face at the thought of them; they’d actually been the king and queen of boring. The prospect of having to spend her days in their company was just too awful to contemplate.

  “And have there been any more applicants since then?”

  “None.” For goodness’ sake, where were her car keys?

  “Well, that’s probably because they fell asleep reading the advert. What’s that noise?” said Seth.

  “Sorry, just dropped the cookie tin. I’m looking for my keys. Oh, Glenda, no, that’s naughty…” But she was too late: the little dog had already snaffled up two cookies and was racing out of the kitchen, her tail helicoptering with joy at the unexpected gift.

  “You need to rewrite the ad,” Seth advised. “In your own words. Say what you’re really looking for and let the applicants know what they’d be getting themselves into.”

  “Ha, they’d run a mile.”

  “Just be chatty and informal and honest, like the way you used to write to me when I was at school, remember?”

  “Of course I remember.” Warmed by the memory, Majella nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Thank you, darling. I’ll do it tonight. Now, d’you have any idea where I might have left my car keys?”

  “No, but the last time you couldn’t find them, you’d put them in your bra for safe keeping.”

  * * *

  It was ten to six. The plan was that at six o’clock, Wyatt would suggest to Penny that they go for a stroll around the grounds of the chateau before dinner. Along the way, they would “accidentally” discover a tiny stone crypt tucked in among the trees with its old wooden door standing slightly open. Wyatt would wonder aloud what might be inside, and they would venture toward the building to find out. Then, as they entered and closed the door behind them, Penny would be greeted by the sight of dozens of candles burning like tiny stars inside glass holders, silver heart-shaped helium balloons bobbing from the ceiling, and hundreds of crimson rose petals strewn on the ground.

  Lainey hadn’t been so sure about the heart-shaped helium balloons, but Wyatt had insisted. Nor had she been entirely convinced by the music he’d chosen to start playing as soon as the door was closed, because in all honesty he didn’t have the best singing voice and “My Heart Will Go On” was a demanding song at the best of times. But apparently it was “their” song and he’d made the recording specially. And as Bill had stressed several hundred times, Wyatt’s every wish was their command.

  At six on the dot, showered and changed into smart evening clothes, the couple arrived downstairs and headed outside for their predinner stroll in the grounds. As soon as they’d made their way out through the front entrance, Lainey and her friend and fellow employee Kit collected together the silver ice bucket, the chilled vintage Bollinger, a silver tray, and two crystal champagne flutes. Having filled the bucket with ice, they slid out through the side door of the kitchen and raced over to the crypt.

  “This bottle cost eight hundred euros,” Kit murmured as he positioned it at an angle in the ice bucket. “I didn’t believe Bill when he told me. But then I Googled it.”

  Lainey had spent the last hour pulling petals off roses, which had made her feel like a murderer. Now she took them out of their bag and scattered them across the flagstone floor. Above them, the helium balloons swayed in the faint breeze coming through the open door. She made sure the phone was set up on the docking station and slipped the remote control into her pocket. Right, all done. Time to escape and silently lurk behind the handily positioned stone wall to the left of the crypt.

  They were joined there by Bill and Biddy. A few minutes later, they heard Penny and Wyatt making their approach. Biddy beamed excitedly at Lainey.

  “Oh, hey, look at this place,” Wyatt exclaimed. “Wonder what’s inside?”

  “We shouldn’t go in there.” Penny sounded concerned. “It might be someone’s home or something.”

  “Honey, it’s fine. We’re not going to get into trouble. Come on, let’s take a look. Give me your hand…”

  The group hiding behind the wall heard the door close with a heavy clunk, and Lainey pressed play on the remote control. The walls of the crypt were thick, so they couldn’t hear the music nor whatever else might be happening inside.

  “It’s so romantic,” Biddy whispered gleefully. “She’s such a lucky girl! When Bill and I got engaged, we’d missed the last bus back to Swindon and were walking home in the rain. Bill said, ‘Oh, by the way, my mum wants to know if we’re getting hitched. What d’
you reckon I should tell her?’ And that was it! That was my proposal!”

  Bill was laughing quietly. “Did the trick, though, didn’t it? You said yes. And we haven’t done too badly, have we?”

  Seven minutes later, Kit said, “They’re taking their time. I thought they’d be out by now.” His task was to take lots of photos when the couple emerged into the sunshine in a daze of just-engaged happiness, while Bill, Biddy, and Lainey provided the enthusiastic applause and congratulations.

  Another few minutes went by, then they heard the unmistakable sound of a champagne cork being popped.

  “At last!” Lainey exhaled with relief because the relatives were all assembled in the main hall back at the chateau for the next stage of the surprise.

  The heavy wooden door creaked open, and they launched into a frenzy of clapping and cheering until the look of absolute horror on Penny’s face and the fact that Wyatt wasn’t with her made them realize there might not be much call for congratulations after all.

  “Oh God,” Kit muttered. “Don’t say she’s shot him.” They’d all heard the pop.

  Penny’s pallor was startling. “Have you been waiting here the whole time?”

  “Um, yes. But we weren’t listening. We couldn’t hear anything,” Lainey added hastily.

  “Now I know why he didn’t want me to come outside.” She shook her head. “Wyatt asked me to marry him. I said no.”

  “But why?” Biddy’s voice rose as she spread her hands. “He loves you!”

  “And I like him.” Penny squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “He’s a really nice guy. But I don’t love him, and I can’t marry someone just because I don’t want to hurt their feelings.” She shook her head. “If I’d known he was going to do this, I’d never have agreed to come here. I should leave.”

  “His family’s here too,” Bill blurted out. “All waiting to celebrate.”

  “Oh God, please no! Are you serious?” Aghast, Penny began to back away. “They’re going to hate me. I need to get out of here right now.”

  Lainey’s heart went out to her and to Wyatt too. All that careful planning and no expense spared. It just went to show, sometimes a perfect proposal turned out not to be so perfect after all.

 

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