Invitation to Provence(47)
Suddenly Scott said to Clare, “I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before,” and the formerly radiant and relaxed Clare froze.
“I’ve never been to Australia,” she said in an ice-tipped voice.
Scott looked at her, surprised. “Perhaps we met in San Francisco,” he persisted. “I worked in Napa for a couple of years.”
“Sorry, I’m a Georgia girl,” Clare said curtly, cutting him off so coldly he turned away, embarrassed, and concentrated on his food.
Watching them all, Haigh thought with satisfaction that this party was beginning to feel like old times. Intrigue was in the air.
Juliette was talking with Franny about dogs and about Franny’s work. “Of course I couldn’t live without my own little darlings,” she said, allowing a Pomernian to jump on her lap and sniff her plate while the other two clamored in back of her, clawing at the brocade chair.
“Juliette, must we have the dogs for dinner, too?” Rafaella sighed, but Juliette just laughed her warm, booming laugh.
“Don’t be so stuffy, chérie. They’re only interested in what their mama is eating. It’s quite normal. Besides, they’ve been to all the great restaurants. Why can’t they do the same thing here?”
“Because that’s my brocade chair they’re wrecking.”
“Chairs come and go. Friends last,” Juliette said. “What counts is how fortunate you are to have these lovely young people around your table.” And Rafaella leaned her chin in her hand, smiling, because Juliette always got straight to the point, and as usual, she was right.
Jake tried again. “So how are you, Franny?” She gave him that steely look and he wished he hadn’t bothered.
“I’m well, thank you,” Franny said, so coldly he could have chipped the ice off her.
“I hoped you liked the Casablanca lilies.”
“They were beautiful. However, I didn’t get an opportunity to thank you.”
“Nor I you,” he said pointedly.
“I didn’t know you two had met,” Clare said, astonished because Franny had never mentioned Jake, and besides she needed to know whether he was free territory or if Franny already had claims on him.
“Briefly” Franny said.
“I see,” Clare said, not seeing at all and wondering what the hell was going on.
Oblivious to the flying sparks, Rafaella sat at the top of her table, smiling that old smile Haigh loved to see. “And now I must propose another toast,” she announced. “To Haigh, my old friend without whom I would not have survived all these years.”
“To Haigh,” everyone said, smiling just as the great doors flew open. The wind rushed in again, blowing out the candles and sending great drafts of black smoke down the chimney.
They heard footsteps crossing the hall, then the doors to the dining room were flung open. A man stood there, looking at them. He was wearing a custom-tailored pin-striped suit and handmade shoes. His hair was streaked with silver and brushed smoothly back, and his hawk nose gave him an arrogant look. There was no smile in his eyes, though a faint mocking one pulled at his lips.
With a little cry, Rafaella sank back into her chair. For a moment she’d thought she was looking at the son she had buried just a few weeks ago.
“Mon dieu,” Juliette said softly, “the prodigal son returns.”
“Well, Mother,” Alain Marten said, “aren’t you going to greet your long-lost son? I heard you’d sent Jake looking for me, so I came home.”
Jake was on his feet in an instant, standing beside Rafaella. Haigh flanked him, staring at Alain, daring him with his eyes to make a move.
“Odd, isn’t it though, how Felix and I got to look more alike as we got older?” Alain said, with that tight little mocking smile. “As you can see, we had the same expensive tastes, the same custom-tailored suits, the handmade English shoes. There’s nothing Felix had that I don’t have, maman. Are you not proud of me?”
Rafaella was silent as he embraced her. “Welcome home, Alain,” she said at last. And over her shoulder, Alain smiled mockingly at Haigh and Jake. He had won.
37
FRANNY CAUGHT ALAIN’S triumphant look. Something odd was going on and she knew instinctively it wasn’t good. Jake knew it too. That’s why he’d leaped to Rafaella’s side, the knight in shining armor ready to defend her. It must be nice to have Jake Bronson so completely on your side, she thought with a twinge of envy. Then she suddenly realized that Rafaella was Jake’s first true love. Of course, that’s why he was here at the chateau, that’s why he was protecting her. It all made sense now.
Alain offered Jake his hand and Jake stared coldly back at him. Alain grinned. “Surely you can’t refuse to shake my hand. Can’t you see all is forgiven and forgotten?” “I’ll never forget,” Jake said. “Nor would Felix.”
“But Felix is no longer with us to complain. Only you, Jake. And Haigh of course.” Alain turned to the butler who was standing poker-faced next to Jake. “And how are you, Haigh? Still ruling the roost no doubt. Well, of course now that I’m home all that will have to change.” He did not offer Haigh his hand and anyway Haigh had turned away before he’d even finished his little speech.