Susan Stephens - Susan Stephens Selection

Kate’s hands were trembling when she reached for the pitcher of juice she had left cooling in the shady depths of the vast porcelain sink. It would be nice to pretend it was righteous indignation at the way Guy always assumed control that gave her the shakes, but she knew his arrival was all it took to set her trembling. Already his presence seemed to pervade every atom of the home she was trying to build for herself. She might be tough and shrewd in business, but in business there wasn’t this degree of emotion to contend with, she realised as she reached for the tumblers.

‘Let me help you.’

She hadn’t even realised Guy was right behind her until she heard his voice. Turning, she saw Giles comfortably ensconced on the bench where Guy had been sitting, whilst Guy had picked up one of her new beech trays.

‘I’ll serve,’ he offered, nodding towards the heavy jug she had balanced on the side of the sink. ‘That looks heavy. Let me take it.’

‘I can manage.’

‘You don’t have to manage when I’m here,’ he pointed out. ‘Come on, Kate,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘Don’t make a scene. Why should we make Giles feel uncomfortable? Give me the jug.’

Loading the tray as he asked, Kate made a detour to the old meat safe she had pressed into service until the electricity was restored before following him back to the table.

Guy had already poured the lemonade and she watched Giles begin to gulp it down. She knew he would drink quickly. He was clearly eager to be anywhere but where he found himself right now. But as Guy relaxed back against the table to take his first sip, Giles stopped drinking and stared at the glass in astonishment.

‘This is delicious, mademoiselle .’

And then Guy’s eyes flamed with approval too. ‘This is seriously good, Kate,’ he murmured.

‘Well, don’t sound too surprised,’ she murmured to Guy, raising her brows in gentle reproof. But all the same she took real pleasure watching the two men enjoying the drink she had prepared. ‘Try a few of these to go with the lemonade,’ she suggested, pushing the bowls and plates she had brought from the old-fashioned cooler across the table. ‘Tell me what you think. And be honest. They’re a trial run for the house-warming party.’

Both looked equally impressed as they surveyed the rainbow selection of sauces and neatly prepared salad vegetables.

‘ Absolument delicieux ,’ Guy declared after he had tried a few and exchanged several glances of appreciation with Giles.

‘I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything more,’ Kate told them. ‘But I had no means of cooking until Giles fixed the solid fuel range…’

‘What else needs to be done now, Giles?’ Guy cut in.

Giles continued to tuck in as he spoke. ‘Nothing major on the building front, Monsieur le Comte. But the electricity is still not connected…’

‘Not connected!’ Guy exclaimed. ‘How can that be? I left instructions before I went away that the reconnection of all the main services here was to be a priority. Why didn’t you say something, Kate? How on earth have you been managing?’

‘I’ve managed just fine, thank you.’

‘But I don’t understand. How could you?’

‘With your oil fire and lots of candles,’ she said, reminding him of the offer he had made and that Madame Duplessis had thoughtfully ensured was carried through.

‘But before I went away I told my estate office to inform the authorities that La Petite Maison was being lived in once more.’

Did he mean the same secretary who had tried to prevent her from seeing Guy in the first place? Kate wondered. ‘Don’t worry,’ she insisted. ‘I shall take up the matter myself. I’m sure it’s only a question of time…’

‘But you do not have much time, mademoiselle ,’ Giles exclaimed, immediately looking contrite when he realised that he had nearly let the cat out of the bag now he was sworn to secrecy over her plans for the guest house.

Instantly Kate felt guilty for having embroiled him in her plans too—plans that were rapidly getting out of hand. Laying her palm across his gnarled fist, she hurried to reassure him. ‘There’s really no need for either of you to be concerned. It’s something that I can take up myself now that the worst of the damage has been put to rights.’

‘But Monsieur le Comte can make things happen,’ Giles protested anxiously.

‘So can I. So can I, Giles,’ Kate told him firmly.

‘Well as soon as Monsieur le Comte arranges for your electricity to be reconnected,’ Giles said, clearly unconvinced that anyone could make things happen with quite the same speed as the Count de Villeneuve, ‘I will be back to help you again.’

‘I appreciate that more than I can say, Giles,’ Kate said, standing as Giles prepared to leave.

‘That was the best lemonade I have ever tasted, mademoiselle ,’ he said, putting his glass down on the kitchen table. ‘And the dips, the crudités too—delicious! I shall be sure to tell Elise, my wife. We are already looking forward to your party, but now—’ He rolled his eyes in a great show of anticipation.

‘It looks as if I was rather presumptuous in offering you the services of my chef,’ Guy remarked once Kate had seen Giles out.

‘No, no,’ Kate said. ‘It was kind of you to offer.’ Gathering her thoughts for a moment, she leaned back against the door. Even though she had been the owner of La Petite Maison for six months she had occupied the cottage for such a short while, yet it had been long enough for Guy to turn her whole world upside down. And the worst of it was that she prided herself on her integrity above everything. In all her business dealings her word was her bond—yet here she was holding so much back.

‘What’s this, Kate?’

She made a small interrogative sound as she looked at Guy and, following his gaze, she felt her stomach lurch. She should have known it would only be a matter of time before he began to tease out all the loose threads of her deception. He was standing in front of the mirrors Giles had installed for her. ‘They are for…’

‘ Oui? ’ he pressed. ‘What is this—the house of mirrors?’

‘They reflect the light,’ she pointed out lamely, hoping that would deflect his interest.

Guy’s scepticism showed in the way his lips quirked down at the corners, but he made no comment until he turned to survey the impressive new cooking station in the centre of the room. ‘Well, I must say you’re well equipped,’ he observed mildly. ‘And this is a massive kitchen now…for someone living on their own.’

‘I plan to entertain a lot,’ Kate said quickly.

‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ Guy said as he wandered across to take his pick from the plate of appetisers. ‘From what I’ve tasted so far, an invitation to La Petite Maison is guaranteed to be the hottest ticket in town.’

‘I certainly hope so,’ Kate said, remembering the pleasing number of forward bookings she had already received for the cottage in its latest guise as a guest house.

‘But mirrors round three sides of the room?’ Guy said curiously. ‘Isn’t that a little excessive? You’re not thinking of opening a bordello, are you?’

Kate’s cheeks flamed as quite suddenly the mirrors took on a whole new range of possibilities. ‘Certainly not,’ she said. ‘I’m fond of light, that’s all.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do say so.’

A few moments passed between them before Guy broke eye contact. Then, reaching inside his jacket, he extracted an envelope from the pocket.

‘What’s this?’ Kate asked as he held it out to her.

‘A copy of the restrictive covenants presently in force on La Petite Maison,’ he said evenly. ‘I thought you should have a look at them as it may be some time before you are able to arrange an appointment with your solicitor.’