Susan Stephens Selection: The French Count's Mistress / The Spaniard's Revenge / Virgin for Sale / Bedded by the Desert King

‘So that’s what it was,’ he said, pretending to be serious, though she could see the amusement tugging at his lips.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Those little sighs of yours,’ he murmured within nibbling distance of her ear.

He seemed to stop just short of exploring it with his tongue and Kate could do nothing to stop the shiver that vibrated through his hands. ‘So, what were you talking about?’ she said, looking for safer ground.

‘Oh, the little personal things that worry people the most.’

‘I suppose setting the business back on track has taken up all your time.’

‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘And the business must remain a prime concern if it is to flourish. But I think I’ve turned the corner so it’s time to play catch-up on everything I’ve been missing.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning, I have time to take a look around at what’s happening closer to home,’ he said enigmatically, falling into the rhythm of the slow dance again.

As the darkening sky became tinged with tangerine and magenta their fellow dancers slipped away and it was a moment or two before Kate realised that the music had stopped.

‘No, you two, please don’t stop on my account—’

As the voice of Guy’s mother slipped between Kate and her fantasy, Guy showed no inclination to release her.

‘What a lovely party, my dear,’ the Countess said, touching her arm. ‘We are all so very grateful to you—’

‘Oh, no, it was nothing—’

‘It was a great deal more than nothing,’ the Countess reprimanded her gently. ‘You have no idea how it brought people together and made them so happy that all their worries were left behind for an afternoon. Why,’ she exclaimed, ‘I can’t remember anything quite like it since—’ She stopped suddenly and Guy reached out his hand. The Countess took it in a firm grip. ‘Look at you, you lucky man!’ she said, collecting herself hurriedly.

‘A beautiful woman on each arm,’ he supplied, smiling down at her.

He drew both of them close, planting a kiss on the crown of each head. He would have to make it fair—for the sake of appearances, Kate realised, exchanging smiles with the Countess. ‘I’m so pleased you enjoyed yourself. And now you’ve been to see us, don’t be a stranger.’

‘Well, actually, that’s the reason I wanted to have a word with you,’ the Countess said, casting a measuring glance at Kate from beneath a thick fringe of lashes so like her son’s.

‘Shall we sit down, Mother?’ Guy suggested, moving to take her arm.

‘Contrary to what you might think, Guy,’ she informed him promptly, ‘I am quite capable of dancing the night away should I choose to do so.’

‘Of course, Mother,’ he said, inclining his head in a brief bow.

‘Now, Kate,’ she said, turning the full beam of still beautiful eyes on Kate’s face. ‘Megan said it would make more sense if I stayed over at the cottage tonight, and I wanted to speak to you before I agreed. You see,’ she continued, seeing Kate’s face light up with interest, ‘Megan has a plan.’

‘A plan?’ Guy queried.

‘To paint the river at dawn—to capture the special way light filters through the trees… You don’t mind?’

‘Of course I don’t mind, Mother… Kate?’

Kate thought quickly. There was still a very nice guest room going spare, overlooking the garden. ‘Of course I don’t mind. In fact, I’ll probably join you on the painting expedition—’

‘Ah…’ The Countess looked crestfallen for a moment.

‘Is there a problem?’ Kate said gently, all her energies focused on nurturing the Countess’s tentative return to the outside world.

‘My plants—’

‘The gardeners can very easily add your prize collection to their watering duties,’ Guy pointed out with typical masculine pragmatism.

‘Out of the question,’ his mother corrected firmly. ‘I trust those plants to no one—but Kate. You will do that for me, dear?’

‘Of course, but…’

‘Last thing at night and first thing in the morning,’ the Countess instructed, shooting a warning glance at her son. ‘You’ll find the feed by the side of the watering can. Guy will show you what to do.’ And, having made her wishes clear, she gave Kate’s arm a grateful pat then sailed back to join Megan’s group of fledgling artists, a group Kate was thrilled to see had grown to include a number of villagers as well as the guests from La Petite Maison.

Realising that either Guy or his chauffeur was now destined to run to and fro with her from the château, Kate turned to offer her apologies.

‘I’m very grateful to you for the improvement I see in my mother,’ he said bluntly. ‘And, frankly, I don’t see the problem. Stay over,’ he said as if he was inviting her to take tea on the lawn. ‘I don’t think we should compromise her recovery by placing unnecessary obstacles in her path, do you?’

‘Well, no… No, of course not.’ Kate’s heart stopped. Guy’s invitation was so tempting, so full of possibilities. ‘But do I really need to stay?’ she said, longing for him to insist she did.

‘Why not? It’s not as if I’m short of bedrooms, and you’ve stayed at the château before.’

‘But it will only take a couple of minutes at most to see to the plants—’

‘I thought we had a lot to talk about.’

So much for fantasies! She might have known the covenants would raise their ugly heads sooner or later.

‘We might have another drink,’ Guy told her reasonably. ‘Then I shan’t want to drive.’

‘But your driver—’

‘Will be at Madame Duplessis’s disposal.’

Kate thought about it for a moment. Much as she hated being backed into a corner, she could hardly force the issue. ‘So, what do you want to discuss?’

‘Must I draw up an agenda?’

His choice of words confirmed her suspicions that the topic for discussion was business.

‘You’ve done all you can here,’ he pointed out.

Glancing towards the cottage, Kate saw a group of about a dozen people clustered around Megan, hanging on her every word. She needed time to think—to work out how to save the situation. ‘But there’s the clearing up to do,’ she argued.

‘Don’t you think Madame Duplessis can take care of that?’

Now she saw that a number of staff from the château had arrived and were setting everything straight again under the housekeeper’s direction.