The French Count's Mistress Read online

  ‘How can I be sure of that?’ Kate said, as the fear that Guy had betrayed her reared up and demanded a hearing.

  ‘You can’t be sure of anything until you speak to him,’ Megan pointed out sensibly. ‘You know his mother loves the idea of you having the guest house here. And you said it yourself—he was grateful for the part our activities are playing in her recovery.’

  ‘He didn’t say that exactly,’ Kate said. ‘He just guessed what we were up to and decided to turn a blind eye—for the duration of the party, at least. I’m not sure he would approve if we turn La Petite Maison into a full-time business.’

  ‘All right, then.’ Megan dismissed the licence she’d taken with a theatrical gesture. ‘So, all you need to do now is talk to him, Kate—’

  ‘If only life was that simple.’

  ‘But it is that simple, if you’ll only slow down and allow it to be,’ Megan said with her usual self-assurance.

  ‘Just because the Countess has decided to involve herself with such enthusiasm doesn’t mean Guy can be persuaded to do the same,’ Kate said. ‘You’re a hopeless romantic, Megan,’ she scolded gently. ‘Why would Guy have sent another set of documents over if he supported our venture?’

  ‘Who says he sent them over?’

  ‘This woman, presumably.’

  ‘Huh!’

  ‘He’s had plenty of opportunity to talk to me about it, but he chose not to,’ Kate said, trying to reason with an entirely adamant Megan.

  ‘Maybe he had other things on his mind,’ Megan murmured, pretending interest in some paintbrushes she had soaking in jars by the sink. ‘So, Kate,’ she said, swinging round with her hands planted firmly on her hips, ‘if his Lordship’s gone walkabout, what are you going to do about our little problem?’

  Kate squared her shoulders as she made her decision. ‘Tell me about this woman.’

  ‘Blonde, beautiful, thirtyish,’ Megan said, screwing up her face as she thought about it. ‘With all the charm of a white shark hunting.’

  ‘You liked her?’ Kate suggested wryly to mask her concern.

  ‘She seemed pretty sure of herself,’ Megan observed, her lips pursing in a tight, disapproving grimace. ‘Who do you think she was?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ Kate admitted edgily. ‘Estate manager, perhaps?’

  ‘You’ll find a solution. You always have before,’ Megan asserted confidently.

  Maybe not this time, Kate thought. Maybe this time she had slipped up badly, and not just on the business front. But for now there was no point getting Megan all worked up. ‘I’ll take a shower and then I’ll get straight round to the estate office,’ she said, throwing herself into work mode.

  After a quick shower, Kate telephoned the Villeneuve estate office and was eventually put through to the woman she had spoken to before. The woman she had always supposed was Guy’s secretary.

  ‘Mariamme D’Arbo, can I help you?’ The voice was lightly accented and sounded impatient even before Kate had a chance to state her reason for calling.

  ‘This is Kate Foster,’ Kate said in a pleasant enough voice that stopped short of encouraging pointless civilities.

  ‘Ah, Mademoiselle Foster—’ The voice had hardened considerably now. ‘I take it you have read the documents I brought round to the cottage? I hand-carried them to ensure that they arrived safely.’

  Kate had no intention of being patronised and surmised that the woman also had taken the opportunity to have a good look around. And poor Megan would scarcely have been on her guard… She might have thought the woman was a prospective guest. Deciding to take no chances, Kate proceeded cautiously but firmly. ‘As Monsieur le Compte is out of the country,’ she said, ‘I would like to arrange an immediate appointment to speak to whoever is in charge while he is away.’

  Seconds ticked until she was on the point of asking if Mariamme D’Arbo was still there, when the other woman spoke. ‘That would be me, mademoiselle.’

  She sounded amused—and smug. Without missing a beat, Kate came back, ‘In that case, I’d like to make an appointment to see you.’ But the cogs in her mind were whirring off the scale. Who the hell was this woman?

  ‘That may not be possible, mademoiselle. I am very busy for the next couple of weeks, as you can imagine—’

  ‘Make time,’ Kate said coolly, reverting to business mode. ‘You can’t just serve eviction papers and then refuse point-blank to discuss them.’

  A few moments passed and then she was informed in a bored voice, ‘I may be able to shuffle things around. I shall have to consult my diary.’

  ‘I’ll wait,’ Kate said. There was a great deal of paper-rustling at the other end of the line but Kate would have bet La Petite Maison that it was a pointless display made solely for effect.

  ‘No, mademoiselle,’ the weary voice came back to her at last. ‘It is just as I told you before. I regret—’

  ‘I shall be at your office at nine o’clock tomorrow morning,’ Kate said firmly. ‘I take it you will be in at nine? I shan’t take up much of your time. Goodbye, Ms D’Arbo.’

  Slamming the phone down, she held it down almost as if Mariamme D’Arbo might be capable of anything, even transmitting her unpleasantness through the cable. The next call Kate made was to her solicitor in England, but he was still out of the office. She briefly considered phoning Guy, but if he was on her side she had nothing to worry about and should get on with sorting out the problem herself, and if he wasn’t—well, in that case, she had no option but to do exactly the same thing. And then she realised that she didn’t even have his mobile number and started worrying all over again.

  ‘Have you sorted it out yet?’ Megan asked, as if reading Kate’s mind. Leaning her considerable bulk against the table, she surveyed Kate, a concerned frown playing across her homely features.

  ‘Not yet,’ Kate admitted. ‘But I have made an appointment to see the woman who brought the papers round.’

  ‘Wouldn’t I like to be a fly on the wall when that confrontation takes place,’ Megan commented wryly.

  ‘It’s just as well you won’t be,’ Kate said. ‘I can’t imagine it will make for relaxing viewing.’

  ‘Just as I’d hoped,’ Megan said with a wink as she scooped up her paintbrushes. ‘Ah, well, I’d better be setting up for this evening’s art classes—’

  ‘Light through the trees by the river at sunset, perchance?’ Kate suggested dryly.

  ‘Don’t you go playing little Miss Innocent with me,’ Megan advised, giving Kate a shrewd look. ‘You can’t tell me that the Countess and I didn’t find the perfect excuse to give you and Guy some time together?’

  Perhaps it would have been better if they hadn’t, Kate thought, feeling vulnerable again. ‘I should have joined you when I said I would,’ she murmured half to herself.

  ‘You’ll feel differently when Guy comes back,’ Megan said with great confidence as she headed for the door.

  Another stab of anxiety pierced Kate’s heart. ‘I hope you’re right,’ she said softly.

  ‘Why don’t you ring him? Put your mind at ease?’

  Sweet, pragmatic Megan… Of course she should ring him. If they had thought to exchange numbers it might have helped! But why should they when Guy had given not the slightest indication that anything would change at Villeneuve while he was away? He was either totally unscrupulous or completely unaware of what was going on, Kate realised unhappily. Either way she was on her own.

  ‘I can handle this perfectly well without Guy’s help,’ she insisted, assuming an air of confidence she didn’t feel. Megan’s facial expression was hardly encouraging. ‘What?’ Kate demanded. ‘Do you think this woman is not all she seems?’

  ‘I don’t know who, or what, she is,’ Megan said disparagingly. ‘But I do know I don’t like her. Just be careful, Kate.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Megan. I didn’t invite you to join me in this enterprise only to lose everything without putting up a fight. And I have no intention of taking any risk
s either,’ Kate promised. ‘There’s too much at stake here—for all of us.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Initially…’ Kate pondered for a moment. ‘I’ll kill her with kindness—throw myself on her mercy—whatever it takes, but I have to play for time until I can work out who she is, how far her authority can take her and how to hold her off until I’ve spoken to Guy.’

  Mademoiselle D’Arbo had a body to die for, the face of an angel and, Megan was right, all the hunting instincts of a shark, Kate decided within the first few seconds. She had also turned up for their meeting in business uniform consisting of a tailored suit and an immaculately cut white shirt. But there was one interesting accessory, Kate thought, viewing the enormous sapphire and diamond ring she wore on the fourth finger of her left hand. Ignoring the stab of concern that it could have anything to do with Guy, Kate squared her shoulders and confronted the coldest pair of blue eyes she had ever seen in her life.

  ‘I’m surprised Monsieur le Comte didn’t think to mention his intention to push forward the enforcement of the covenants before he left on business,’ she said mildly, waiting to gauge the response of her adversary.

  ‘Perhaps he only decided to take action after seeing you—and before speaking to me,’ Mariamme D’Arbo replied smugly.

  Smooth…very smooth, Kate decided as she watched the other woman settle herself back in the chair. ‘I think there’s been a mistake,’ Kate continued calmly. ‘But I’m sure we can work something out. There has to be a reasonable compromise that will satisfy both parties.’

  ‘I think the Villeneuve estate has been more than reasonable with you, Miss Foster,’ Mariamme D’Arbo said coldly. ‘Le Comte de Villeneuve expects this matter to be settled before he returns.’ Picking up an envelope from the desk, she passed it to Kate.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Why don’t you open it and see?’

  Keeping her gaze fixed on Mariamme D’Arbo’s face, Kate ripped open the envelope and extracted several thin slips of paper. Bills for repairs, she read, her eyes widening as she looked through the list. The total amount was colossal, and when she looked at the payment details she saw that Guy seemed to be using an offshore bank—

  ‘And, once that is settled, the Villeneuve estate demands your immediate surrender of the property—’

  ‘You’re evicting me?’

  ‘That is correct. And with immediate effect.’

  ‘On whose authority?’ Kate demanded icily.

  ‘Mine—my partner’s…’

  Kate didn’t hear any more as she sprang to her feet. It had never occurred to her that Guy might have a partner. And she was pretty sure that this woman was the same person she had spoken to on the phone—the young woman she had imagined was his secretary. Kate’s stomach lurched as she wondered if she had made a classic mistake—a mistake that was generally the preserve of the male of the species—a mistake she should have been the very last person on earth to be guilty of making. She glanced again at the payment terms on the invoice.

  ‘I’ll need to check the details on this invoice against my records. I assume I have the usual twenty-eight days’ credit—’

  ‘Payment is due immediately,’ Mariamme D’Arbo informed her bluntly. ‘Some of this work was completed weeks ago, and one thing I have noticed since I came here is how lax the accounts department has become—’

  ‘Really?’ Kate said coolly. ‘Have you been working here long?’ Since Guy had taken over the word was his accounts department was one of the best.

  ‘Long enough,’ Mariamme D’Arbo said as she stood up. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m very busy—’

  ‘You should know that no amount of money could persuade me to leave La Petite Maison, Ms D’Arbo,’ Kate cut in firmly. ‘I am totally committed to completing the restoration of the cottage. You must understand—’

  ‘No,’ the other woman spat before Kate had chance to finish, ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.’

  ‘Nevertheless, it is a fact,’ Kate said pleasantly. ‘So I shan’t be making any plans to leave the cottage, or pay this bill, until I have spoken to the Count.’

  Mariamme D’Arbo had clearly been expecting an easy ride. Dealing with Kate was not what she had been expecting at all. ‘Well, the electricity won’t be turned back on,’ she announced. ‘And if you don’t pay, we’ll sue. As for arranging a meeting with the Count—’ She shrugged dismissively, as if a meeting with Guy would serve no purpose whatever.

  ‘I’ve managed without electricity before,’ Kate said, managing to sound calm even though her heart was dancing a fandango at the thought of how her next guests might react. From what Megan had told her, she was pretty sure primitive conditions didn’t figure in their holiday plans. ‘And, as for suing me—’ She shrugged.

  ‘You will find that the Count agrees with me on the matter of covenants,’ Mariamme D’Arbo cut in. ‘And I know that we both have the same thoughts on holiday cottages cluttering up the estate—let alone boarding houses.’

  The way Marianne D’Arbo linked herself with Guy was the last straw as far as Kate was concerned. ‘Boarding houses?’ she returned icily. ‘I know of no boarding houses on the Villeneuve estate.’

  ‘Oh, come now, Miss Foster. Do you mean to tell me that La Petite Maison could be described in any other way?’

  The urge to screw up the documents into bite-sized balls and make her eat them was overwhelming, Kate realised, as she hung on for grim death to what remained of her self-control. ‘I’m not sure the Count would agree with your views,’ she argued firmly, and had the satisfaction of seeing just a glimmer of unease appear in the stony blue eyes. ‘So, why don’t we give him the opportunity to express his own opinions?’ she suggested as she got up. Extending her hand, she added coolly, ‘Perhaps you’ll ring me if you hear anything from him before I do, Mademoiselle D’Arbo? I’ll jot my number down on this pad for you—to ensure you have it,’ she added with a nice touch of irony.

  Mariamme D’Arbo’s stare was like a blade that longed to cut Kate off at the knees and make her grovel. But that wasn’t about to happen, and neither was she going to demean herself by asking for Guy’s telephone number, Kate decided, holding her head up high as she sailed out of the room. ‘Goodbye, Ms D’Arbo,’ she called over her shoulder.

  The light of battle was still in Kate’s eyes when she arrived back at the cottage, but she had a cookery class straight after lunch and it was almost a relief to put all her energies into preparing for that. She was halfway through laying out ingredients in separate piles for each guest when her mobile rang.

  ‘Guy? Guy!’ There was too much static to hear anything clearly but her thundering heart told her who it was. Then the line cut abruptly. Nursing the phone like a baby, Kate paced up and down the kitchen, realising how much she wanted him back… At least face-to-face she might hope to reason with him—to point out what a sinister secretary, partner, or whatever he chose to call her, he had left to mind the shop while he was away. Her mind was on fire with all the reasons why he should get rid of the woman. She almost dropped the telephone when it rang again. ‘Guy… Where are you? How did you get my number? The line’s terrible.’

  ‘Stop talking,’ he said crisply. ‘Just tell me, are you all right?’

  ‘Of course I’m all right.’ The concern in his voice frightened her.

  ‘Only—’

  ‘Guy! Guy!’ Kate gusted with impatience as the persistent crackling drowned him out. ‘Give me your number at least—’ But the line had cut again and, glancing out of the window, she saw that her guests had arrived back from the château. Whatever Guy had been trying to tell her would have to wait.

  Trying to ignore the shiver of apprehension his call had provoked, she turned her attention to the colourful group clambering out of the mini-bus. Their faces were glowing from exposure to the warm summer sunshine and something else, Kate thought. It wasn’t too extravagant to say they had been transformed since their arrival at La Petite M
aison. There was camaraderie and an energy that had been lacking when they had arrived. For a moment she envied them. They had all found something very special to take home with them.

  ‘Uh,’ Megan huffed as she exploded into the kitchen with her usual gusto. ‘What a great time we’ve had!’ Grinning from ear to ear, she slapped down her multi-coloured tasselled bag on the table, adding, ‘But I’m totally bushed.’

  Kate took the hint. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ll take over now. And there’s some freshly squeezed orange juice in the cooler. Let me get you some.’ As she hurried to get glasses for everyone she realised that she had never been more grateful to Megan and their guests. As the kitchen filled with excited chatter, the elation was just what she needed to feed on. She could feel her energy levels rising by the minute.

  ‘We went through the maze at the château,’ one of the elderly ladies revealed with a shy smile as she helped Kate to hand round the drinks.

  ‘Some of us more quickly than others,’ Dirk, the retired rocker from Bermondsey, admitted ruefully, running bony fingers through what remained of his straggly hair.

  ‘Well, at least you all came through,’ Kate said warmly. ‘That’s quite an achievement. I remember getting lost there many times—’

  ‘On purpose, we always suspected,’ Megan confided to everyone cheerfully. ‘There was only one person who knew every twist and turn and that was the young Count de Villeneuve. So it was a very good way to get his attention. Isn’t that right, Kate?’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly comment,’ Kate said, wondering if her heart would always caper round her chest at the sound of Guy’s name. And she hadn’t fooled Megan or Aunt Alice…and if they had known what she was up to, then Guy would have done too… Which zigzag route brought her back to wondering where he was and when he’d return—

  ‘You haven’t heard from Guy yet?’ Megan murmured, seeing the concern on her face.