Page 20 of Whispers At Dawn
‘I am proud, although it’s rather big for just me and the small staff I keep these days.’
‘Were you never married?’ Lizzie asked. Then she hesitated. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘Nonsense, my dear. I’m alone in this grand house so much of the time, it’s an absolute pleasure to have you to listen to my ramblings. If I talk too much, you must tell me, yes?’ His eyes shone and Lizzie warmed to him further. ‘The truth is, I alwaysmeant to marry, but it never quite happened. I fell madly in love as a young man, but sadly, my fiancée died from scarlet fever.’
‘Oh goodness, I am so sorry to bring up sad memories for you, Luc.’
‘Not at all. I think often of my darling Mirabelle. It keeps her alive in my mind. The years have passed, but the memories linger on.’
Lizzie noticed his eyes shone, and she regretted bringing up such a poignant event for the old man. She had only meant to make polite conversation to put him at ease. She was, after all, an absolute stranger in his home, who had thrust herself upon his hospitality with no warning, unlike Jack, who was a blood relation, even if they hadn’t seen each other for years.
Luc continued talking softly, as if in a dream, as they meandered from one huge elegant high-ceilinged room to another, taking in the majesty of the old château. ‘I never met the right woman after Mirabelle. I would have loved to fill this place with children, but it wasn’t meant to be. Fate had different plans.’
Lizzie churned with emotion for Luc’s lost love, and she glanced at Jack. How lovely that the old man would have his nephew’s company for a while.
The housekeeper reappeared and showed Lizzie and Jack to the rooms she had made up for them, and Lizzie’s mouth opened slightly when she showed them inside.
Like in the rooms on the ground floor, an exquisite chandelier hung from the high ceiling of intricate carvings on exposed wooden beams, and the open shuttered windows overlooked the breathtaking view of Toulouse, the pink city, nestled in the curves of the Garonne River. An enormous bed stood on one side of the largest room, and plush upholstery covered the opulent yet dated furniture. It was like stepping back in time to an earlier century.
When the housekeeper left them, Lizzie wandered around the adjoining room and called out to Jack. ‘We even have our own private sitting room. Have I died and gone to French heaven? These rooms are breathtaking.’
Jack opened his bag and removed a few items of clothing he had placed strategically around their radio to pad it for the drop.
Lizzie reappeared at his side. ‘I don’t know how you travel with so few items. I swear if you didn’t need to buffer the radio, you wouldn’t have even brought a case.’
Jack ran his fingers across the stubble on his face. ‘I think you may be right. I prefer to travel light.’
Lizzie opened her own little case, which had several hidden compartments sewn into the lining. ‘What will you do for clothing, then?’
‘I’ll ask Luc if he has any for me. If not, I’ll get some in the city. It’s a good excuse to get into conversation with the locals.’
Lizzie unpacked and hung her clothes in the antique wardrobe, and placed her few belongings in the rickety drawers of a heavy wooden chest. She left her secret items in the compartments of the case, away from prying eyes.
‘Do you think we can trust the housekeeper and maids?’ Lizzie asked.
‘I don’t know, but let’s act as though we can’t. I’ll keep an eye on them, and it will no doubt become apparent in time where their sympathies lie.’
Lizzie agreed that was a sound plan, and she would watch them too.
‘Wasn’t it a tragic love story about Luc’s fiancée dying and leaving him unmarried for his whole life?’
‘Tragic indeed. I confess I never heard a word about it until today,’ Jack said.
‘Well, you know how parents like to keep anything interesting from us when we’re young,’ Lizzie said.
‘Yes, but I’m a grown man in my thirties.’
Lizzie teased, ‘You’re quite advanced in age and your mother still keeps secrets from you.’
‘Not that advanced, thank you very much, you cheeky minx, but yes, it would seem so. Not as many as I keep from her, though,’ he chuckled.
‘Maybe it’s her little slice of revenge,’ Lizzie said.
‘I’d like you to meet my mother soon. It’s odd you met my uncle before you met her.’
‘Well, if he’s anything to go by, I’m sure I’ll love your mother.’
‘And she’ll love you even more if you tell her your ten centuries of French ancestors’ story!’
