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Authors: Rebecca Stratton
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find someone,' she ventured.
*In this house?' The black brows frowned ominously. *How can that be?'
Warily Charlotte sought for something that would not involve her too deeply or too soon. *I don't know,' she confessed. *He—it's possible that I could be wrong—it was a long time ago.'
'If you have been honest with me then I am confident diat you are wrong, mademoiselle V Raoul declared without hesitation. *We have no one in this household who is likely to have been your lover—a long time ago!'
He quoted her derisively and Charlotte flushed, her fingers tautly white as she gripped the edge of the desk. 'I didn't say anything about a lover, monsieur^ and you have no right to interrogate me about matters that don't concern you! I won't be bullied and I won't '
*You will give me a satisfactory answer,' Raoul declared dirough tight lips, *or mon dieuy I shall throw you out of this house now—before another minute has passed I'
*You can't!' Her cry was as much anxious as defiant and she let out a quite involuntary cry of protest when his fingers closed about her wrist and held tighdy. *Let me go!' She tugged at her captive arm frantically. *Let me ^o I'
'Would it not be well to do as the lady asks, mon brave V
Charlotte turned her head swifdy when she recognised the voice and realised in the same instant just what interpretation Michel Menais was putting on the scene. He stood just inside the door of the office for a moment, his round handsome face smiling good-humouredly, then he started shaking his head as he came across the room towards them, his brown eyes twinkling, as if he enjoyed ±e idea of discomfiting his cousin. Looking at Charlotte's flushed face and downcast eyes, he nodded towards the door.
*Your way is clear, Mademoiselle Kennedy; my wife is asking that you see her before you prepare for your evening out.' He flicked a dark brow first at her and then at Raoul, and smiled. *You are seeing Jean Cordet, are you not? A good-looking young man who will go far.' He winked an eye when Charlotte glanced at him doubtfully. *If he is careful not to make enemies in the wrong places, eh? You should warn him of that!'
*Oh, mon dieu; tais-toiy Michel!' Raoul turned his shadowed grey eyes on to Charlotte once more and let her ease her wrist from his fingers. *You may go, mademoiselle* he told her, but something in the tone of his voice as well as his eyes told her that she had not heard the last of the matter.
In the meantime she fled thankfully, and went in search of Lizette. *Thank you, monsieury' she said as she turned to go, but addressed her thanks to Michel, not to Raoul.
Jean Cordet was a perfect escort. He was attentive, prone to extravagance and fun to be with, and Charlotte enjoyed his company. She had been right to suppose he would make further dates after that first one that Raoul spoiled for them, and this was the third time in a formight he had taken her to dinner, besides taking her for an exploratory drive into the country one week-end.
The drive to Paris through the evening light always set her mood for the evening, and she could still anticipate dining and dancing in the most romantic city in Europe with the same thrill of excitement. That was the title claimed for his home town by Jean, and Charlotte could find no reason to deny it
Driving along under the darkening sky and drawn by the lure of twinkling lights and die soaring skeleton of the Eiffel Tower, Charlotte put that earlier discomfiting scene with Raoul firmly out of her mind. She had a good-looking
escort and the prospect of an evening in Paris before her; she could afford to forget all about Raoul Menais.
*We shall go to a little place I know of,' Jean promised with a brief wink as he drove along a narrow, ill-lit street 1 on the west side of the city. *You will like it, Charlotte, I promise.'
'I always do,' Charlotte told him contentedly, and smiled.
*Ah, Charlotte!' He reached for her hand and lighdy kissed it.
The restaurant
*In this house?' The black brows frowned ominously. *How can that be?'
Warily Charlotte sought for something that would not involve her too deeply or too soon. *I don't know,' she confessed. *He—it's possible that I could be wrong—it was a long time ago.'
'If you have been honest with me then I am confident diat you are wrong, mademoiselle V Raoul declared without hesitation. *We have no one in this household who is likely to have been your lover—a long time ago!'
He quoted her derisively and Charlotte flushed, her fingers tautly white as she gripped the edge of the desk. 'I didn't say anything about a lover, monsieur^ and you have no right to interrogate me about matters that don't concern you! I won't be bullied and I won't '
*You will give me a satisfactory answer,' Raoul declared dirough tight lips, *or mon dieuy I shall throw you out of this house now—before another minute has passed I'
*You can't!' Her cry was as much anxious as defiant and she let out a quite involuntary cry of protest when his fingers closed about her wrist and held tighdy. *Let me go!' She tugged at her captive arm frantically. *Let me ^o I'
'Would it not be well to do as the lady asks, mon brave V
Charlotte turned her head swifdy when she recognised the voice and realised in the same instant just what interpretation Michel Menais was putting on the scene. He stood just inside the door of the office for a moment, his round handsome face smiling good-humouredly, then he started shaking his head as he came across the room towards them, his brown eyes twinkling, as if he enjoyed ±e idea of discomfiting his cousin. Looking at Charlotte's flushed face and downcast eyes, he nodded towards the door.
*Your way is clear, Mademoiselle Kennedy; my wife is asking that you see her before you prepare for your evening out.' He flicked a dark brow first at her and then at Raoul, and smiled. *You are seeing Jean Cordet, are you not? A good-looking young man who will go far.' He winked an eye when Charlotte glanced at him doubtfully. *If he is careful not to make enemies in the wrong places, eh? You should warn him of that!'
*Oh, mon dieu; tais-toiy Michel!' Raoul turned his shadowed grey eyes on to Charlotte once more and let her ease her wrist from his fingers. *You may go, mademoiselle* he told her, but something in the tone of his voice as well as his eyes told her that she had not heard the last of the matter.
In the meantime she fled thankfully, and went in search of Lizette. *Thank you, monsieury' she said as she turned to go, but addressed her thanks to Michel, not to Raoul.
Jean Cordet was a perfect escort. He was attentive, prone to extravagance and fun to be with, and Charlotte enjoyed his company. She had been right to suppose he would make further dates after that first one that Raoul spoiled for them, and this was the third time in a formight he had taken her to dinner, besides taking her for an exploratory drive into the country one week-end.
The drive to Paris through the evening light always set her mood for the evening, and she could still anticipate dining and dancing in the most romantic city in Europe with the same thrill of excitement. That was the title claimed for his home town by Jean, and Charlotte could find no reason to deny it
Driving along under the darkening sky and drawn by the lure of twinkling lights and die soaring skeleton of the Eiffel Tower, Charlotte put that earlier discomfiting scene with Raoul firmly out of her mind. She had a good-looking
escort and the prospect of an evening in Paris before her; she could afford to forget all about Raoul Menais.
*We shall go to a little place I know of,' Jean promised with a brief wink as he drove along a narrow, ill-lit street 1 on the west side of the city. *You will like it, Charlotte, I promise.'
'I always do,' Charlotte told him contentedly, and smiled.
*Ah, Charlotte!' He reached for her hand and lighdy kissed it.
The restaurant
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