Barbara Dunlop - Transformed Into The Frenchman’s Mistress

“Hello, Lillian,” she managed.

“Lovely to see you, dear.” Lillian nodded regally.

“It was Charlotte who convinced me to allow Hudson Pictures to use my château,” Alec continued.

Charlotte could see what Alec was trying to do, and it was admirable. But she could also see he was making Markus uncomfortable. It was his project, and he didn’t seem used to other people taking the spotlight.

Sure enough, Markus stepped forward. “Markus Hudson.” He offered his hand to Alec and shook heartily. “CEO of Hudson Pictures.”

With everyone’s attention on Alec and Markus, Charlotte took a step backward. She was escaping to the shower just as soon as humanly possible. She could always come back for a drink later and say her hellos. Hopefully, by then, her new clothes would have arrived in the limo. They would boost her confidence.

While Alec and Markus talked, she eased carefully backward.

But then Jack appeared by her side. “I hear you were in London,” he opened.

Charlotte gave another hopeless swipe at her hair before answering. “And Rome and Paris.”

Jack nodded, a glance straying to Alec.

“Raine wanted to go shopping,” Charlotte quickly put in. “You met Raine, right? It was mostly her who helped me convince Alec to let you film here. She should be right behind us.” Charlotte glanced toward the hall. “With Kiefer, the vice president of Montcalm.”

“You okay?” Jack wedged in.

“Fine.” Charlotte clamped her mouth shut.

Jack nodded across the room at their father. “You going to say hello?”

“I’m not in a rush.” If she could avoid it, she would. Her emotional state was better if she simply avoided her father altogether.

At the moment, David was working on a martini-no surprise there. He was also watching his brother, Markus, through squinting eyes, his lips pursed in obvious annoyance. She knew the two brothers didn’t get along. She might be out of touch, but that much family gossip had come her way.

Again, no surprise. David might be a talented director, but he was also narcissistic and egotistical. And from what she’d been able to glean, Markus had little patience for difficult personalities.

“Show him you’re not intimidated,” Jack suggested.

“I’m not,” she lied. She was intimidated by the entire family, particularly en masse. And she knew talking to David would have the power to zap her back to the unwanted little girl at the airport.

“Glad to hear it,” said Jack, taking a sip from his crystal tumbler. Then there was a sneer in his voice. “Because he’s definitely not worth it.”

Charlotte simply nodded.

“You will say hello to Cece, right?” Jack referred to his new wife.

“After I shower,” Charlotte agreed. “I really need to get cleaned up.”

“Theo’s a great kid,” Jack put in, voice softening as he gazed across the room once again. “And I’m going to be a wonderful father. And that man…” The hard voice came back in force. “That man will not influence me in any way. I am not him.”

Charlotte felt an instant admiration for her brother. He’d obviously come to terms with his childhood. She was happy for him, but she couldn’t help but feel even more lonely.

“I won’t let him define me,” Jack finished.

Charlotte wished she could be that strong. But she was a long way from not letting her upbringing define her.

Alec was right when he said she was angry. But she was also hurt. And she was also lonely. And being around the Hudsons, especially David, made her wonder if anybody in the world would ever choose her, ever truly love her, just for herself.

Alec saw Charlotte leave the great room. His initial reaction was to go after her, but Markus was still talking, and he was curious about her father, who was sitting off to one side, looking sullen as he watched his older brother through narrowed eyes.

Lillian had said good-night, and was being helped back to her room. Alec had been introduced to Isabella and Ridley Sinclair. Judging by their expressions and body language, he’d bet the affair rumors were true. He wondered if he should alert Kiefer. It wasn’t too late to sneak a tabloid reporter onto the property, or give them a heads-up on the location of the stars’ villa rental.

Markus had also introduced his sons Dev and Max. Both seemed hardworking and intelligent. Dev was planning to leave with his father and Lillian within the next few days. Max planned to stay to work with David on a daily basis. It was easy to see there was no love lost between Markus’s side of the family and his brother, David.

In fact, Alec wondered why David was directing the film at all, until he overheard Isabella comment on David’s artistic and dramatic vision. Apparently, vision was a difficult thing to come by in Hollywood. That would explain why everyone put up with Lars’s temperamental nature. Alec would have fired the man weeks ago.

At a lull in the conversation, Alec excused himself and approached David.

“Alec Montcalm.” He offered his hand.

David had the grace to stand up from the armchair in front of the stone fireplace. “David Hudson.”

“I understand you’re directing the film?”

“Is that all you understand?” David’s gaze slid to Markus; he was obviously wondering if his brother had been badmouthing him to Alec.

“Can I freshen your drink?” asked Alec, nodding to the near-empty glass.

David glanced down. “It’s the Glen Klavit. One ice cube.”

Alec gave a brief nod to a staff member, and indicated David’s glass. “I’ll have the same,” he told the waiter.

“A man with good taste in scotch,” David commented.

“I visited Klavit Castle last year,” Alec said conversationally. “Almost inaccessible, and damn cold. But there’s no better place on earth for distilling coastal whiskey.”

David nodded as the waiter presented their drinks on a silver tray.

“Charlotte and I were in London last week.” As a segue, it was a stretch, but Alec didn’t want to be at this all night.

“I was wandering through your pool house,” said David, as if his daughter’s name hadn’t even been mentioned. “And I was wondering, would you be open to a minor renovation?”

“We stayed at the Ritz,” said Alec. “Took in the Royal Ballet.”

David’s eyes narrowed, as if he was assessing Alec’s mental competence. “Uh, right. Always a treat. There’s a lighting problem with the pool house. We’d like to add a window in the front. When we pan left, we’re going to lose the natural light on Isabella, and the mood can’t be too somber. It’s the pivotal scene where Lillian and Charles pledge their love. I thought about backlighting.” David’s eyes lost focus. “But we’re going for realism, not some overly romanticized-”

“As long as you don’t use explosives,” Alec cut in.

David drew back with a frown, obviously missing the joke. “It’s a love scene.”

“I see.”

“It’s midway thought the script. The conflicts have been well set up, and the central characters are-”

“Sure,” said Alec, taking a bracing swig of the scotch, wishing he’d gone for something that was cask strength. “Put in a window.”

“That’s good,” said David with a distracted nod. “Then I can talk to wardrobe about Lillian’s hat.”

“Whatever,” said Alec, realizing Charlotte had nothing in common with her father.

He glanced across the room to where Jack was talking with his cousin Max. David and Jack both had dark hair and blue eyes. But there was nothing definitively similar about their appearances, either.

“We might need a few extra shooting days,” David put in. “I have Cece working on script revisions.”