In the Millionaire's Possession (8 page)

Helen finished her coffee.
‘
Just as you wish,
monsieur
. Would you like to begin now?
’

‘
Pourquoi pas
?
’
he said softly.
‘
Why not?
’

Oh, Helen thought wearily as she led the way to the kitchen door, I can think of so many reasons why not. And having to be alone with you, Monsieur Delaroche, heads the list every time.

And, heaven help me, I
’
m not even sure whether it
’
s you I don
’
t trust
—
or myself.

CHAPTER THREE

HELEN was still recovering from that unwelcome piece of self-revelation when they entered the library together. She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans, trying to compose herself for the inevitable inquisition, but at first there was only silence as Marc Delaroche stood looking round with a frown at the empty oak shelves that still lined the walls.

‘
It was a valuable collection?
’
he asked at last.

‘
Yes
—
very.
’
She hesitated.
‘
My grandfather was forced to sell it in the eighties, along with a number of pictures. It almost broke his heart, but it gave Monteagle a reprieve.
’

He shook his head slightly, his gaze travelling over the motley collection of shabby furniture, the peeling paintwork, and the ancient velvet curtains hanging limply at the windows.
‘
And this is where you spend your leisure time?
’

‘
Yes, what there is of it,
’
she returned.
‘
There
’
s always some job needing to be done in a place like this.
’

‘
You do not find it
—
triste
? A little gloomy.
’

‘
In winter it
’
s quite cosy,
’
she retorted defensively.
‘
There
’
s plenty of wood on the estate, so I have an open fire, and I burn candles most of the time.
’

‘
Certainly a kinder light than a midsummer sun,
’
he commented drily.
‘
Shall we continue?
’

She supposed they must. The truth was she felt totally unnerved by her physical consciousness of his presence beside her. Although he was deliberately keeping his distance, she realised, and standing back to allow her to precede him through doorways, and up the Great Staircase to the Long Gallery. But it made no difference. The panelled walls still seemed to press in upon them, forcing them closer together. An illusion, she knew, but no less disturbing for that.

She thought, I should have made some excuse
—
asked Daisy to show him round.

Aloud, she said,
‘
This is where the family used to gather, and where the ladies of the house took exercise in bad weather.
’

‘
But not, of course, with holes in the floorboards,
’
he said.

She bit her lip.
‘
No. The whole floor needs replacing, including the joists.
’

He was pausing to look at the portraits which still hung on the walls.
‘
These are members of your family? Ancestors?
’

She pulled a face.
‘
Mostly the ugly ones that my grandfather thought no one would buy.
’

Marc Delaroche slanted an amused look at her, then scanned the portraits again.
‘
Yet I would say it is the quality of the painting that is at fault.
’

She shrugged, surprised at his perception.
‘
No, they
’
re not very good. But I guess you didn
’
t pay the fees of someone like Joshua Reynolds to paint younger sons and maiden aunts.
’

‘
And so the sons went off,
sans doute
, to fight my countrymen in some war,
’
he commented, his mouth twisting.
‘
While the aunts had only to remain maiden. My sympathies are with them, I think.
’
He paused.
‘
Is there no portrait of the beauty so desired by King Charles?
’

‘
Yes,
’
she admitted reluctantly.
‘
My grandfather wouldn
’
t part with it. It
’
s in the State Bedroom.
’

‘
I cannot wait,
’
he murmured.
En avant
,
ma belle
.
’

‘
Do you mind not calling me that?
’
Helen threw over her shoulder as they set off again.
‘
What would you say if I greeted you with, Hey, good-looking?
’

‘
I should advise you to consult an eye specialist,
’
he said drily.
‘
Tell me something,
mademoiselle
. Why do you object when a man indicates he finds you attractive?
’

‘
I don
’
t,
’
she said shortly.
‘
When it
’
s the right man.
’

‘
And I am by definition the wrong one?
’
He sounded amused.

‘
Do you really need to ask? You know already that I
’
m engaged to be married.
’

‘
Of course,
’
he said.
‘
But where is your fiancé?
’

‘
He couldn
’
t come down this weekend.
’
Helen halted, chin lifted in challenge.
‘
Not that it
’
s any concern of yours.
’

‘
This weekend?
’
he said musingly.
‘
And how many weekends before that? It is a matter of comment in the village, you understand.
’

‘
The public bar of the Monteagle Arms anyway,
’
Helen said tersely.
‘
You really shouldn
’
t listen to idle gossip,
monsieur
.
’

‘
But I learned a great deal,
’
Marc Delaroche said gently.
‘
And not merely about your missing lover. They spoke too about your fight to keep this house. Opinion is divided as to whether you are brave or a fool, but none of them thought you could win.
’

‘
How kind of them,
’
she said between her teeth.
‘
That must have done my cause a lot of good.
’
She paused.
‘
Did they know who you were
—
and why you were here?
’

‘
I said nothing. I only listened.
’
He shrugged.
‘
They spoke of your grandfather with affection, but not of your parents. And you do not mention them either. I find that strange.
’

Helen bit her lip.
‘
I hardly knew them. They left Britain when I was still quite small, and my grandfather brought me up with the help of various nannies. That
’
s why we were so close.
’

Marc Delaroche frowned swiftly.
‘
My father
’
s work took him abroad also, but I travelled with him always. He would never have considered anything else.
’

‘
My father didn
’
t work
—
in the accepted sense.
’
Helen looked past him, staring into space.
‘
He
’
d been brought up to run Monteagle and the estate, but after the financial disasters we
’
d suffered that no longer seemed an option. Also, he knew he would never have a son to inherit what remained. My mother, whom he adored, was very ill when I was born, and needed an immediate operation. The name was going to die out.
’

‘
He had a daughter. Did he not consider that?
’

Helen
’
s smile was swift and taut.
‘
I never had the chance to ask him. There
’
s always been a strong gambling streak in our family
—
fortunes won and lost down the centuries
—
and my father was a brilliant poker player. He had a load of friends among the rich and famous, so he travelled the world with my mother, staying in other people
’
s houses and making a living from cards and backgammon.
’
Her mouth twisted wryly.
‘
At times he even earned enough to send money home.
’

‘
But then his luck ran out?
’
Marc Delaroche asked quietly.

She nodded, and began to walk along the corridor again.
‘
They were in the Caribbean, flying between islands in a private plane with friends. There was some problem, and the aircraft crashed into the sea, killing everyone on board. My grandfather was devastated. Up to then he
’
d always believed we would recoup our losses somehow, and carry out the restoration work he
’
d always planned. That we
’
d be reunited as a family, too. But after the crash the fight seemed to go out of him. He became
—
resigned. Instead of winning, he talked about survival.
’

She stared ahead of her, jaw set.
‘
But Monteagle is mine now, and I want more than that.
’

‘
Has it hurt you to tell me these things?
’
His voice was oddly gentle.

‘
It
’
s all part of Monteagle
’
s history.
’
She hunched a shoulder.
‘
So you probably have a right to ask. But that
’
s as far as the personal details go,
’
she added, giving him a cool look.
‘
You
’
re here on business, and I feel we should conduct ourselves in a businesslike manner.
’

Oh
,
God
, she groaned inwardly. Just listen to yourself. Miss Prim of the Year, or what?

‘
Ah,
’
he said.
‘
And therefore all matters of gender should be rigorously excluded?
’
His grin was cynical.
‘
How do you do that, I wonder?
’

She bit her lip.
‘
That is your problem,
monsieur
. Not mine.
’

She reached the imposing double doors at the end of the corridor and flung them open.
‘
And here, as you requested, is the State Bedroom.
’

The curtains were half drawn over the long windows, and she walked across and opened them, admitting a broad shaft of dust-filled sunshine.

It was a big room, the walls hung with faded brocade wallpaper. It was dominated by the huge four-poster bed, which had been stripped to its mattress, although the heavily embroidered satin canopy and curtains were still in place.

‘
As you see,
’
she added woodenly,
‘
it has not been in use since my grandfather died.
’
She pointed to a door.
‘
That leads to a dressing room, which he always planned to convert to a bathroom.
’