The Disgraceful Mr Ravenhurst. Louise Allen

      There was an awkward moment while Mademoiselle Julie plastered a smile on her face, the count looked like thunder and the countess recovered herself. ‘It will be quite an English party,’ she declared. ‘Sir Ian and Lady Tracey are joining us. You may know them? I met them in Paris, soon after my poor husband’s death. They were such a support until dear Leon could reach me.’

      The Traceys? Here? So they do not have it either. Have they followed me or will I come as a nasty surprise to them? If he did not have it, and Leon did not have it and the Traceys did not, then that left only one person in the game. He would let the houseparty run its course, satisfy himself that the Chalice had not come home and that this was not some complex manoeuvre on the part of the English collectors, and then he would find Ana. And wring her very lovely neck.

      ‘I have met them,’ he conceded. The last time had been just before he had bribed their coachman to take the wrong road south to Paris from the coast and then, when they were well lost, to engineer a broken axle. He was sure Sir Ian was going to be just as pleased to encounter him again as he was to see them. ‘It will be most interesting to become reacquainted.’

      Elinor was watching him, her head tipped a little to one side. She knew there was something going on beneath this polite surface chatter, something beyond the odd fact that he had asked her help in securing an invitation to stay in a chateau where he already had an entrée of sorts.

      ‘Is anyone else coming?’ she asked now, gazing directly at the count. If it did not seem too bizarre a phrase to use in connection with Elinor, she was positively batting her eyelashes at him.

      ‘Some relatives of ours,’ he answered, strolling over and taking the place next to her on the sofa. ‘This is a large house, we can accommodate a lot of people.’ He shot Theo an unreadable look as he said it, then turned to smile at Elinor. Behind their back Mademoiselle Julie bit her lip and began to make brittle conversation with Lady James. The paid companion? A poor relation? Whichever it is, she does not like the count paying attention to another woman. And neither do I. Not that one. Which was strange. He supposed it was because he was used to keeping an eye out for his sisters. But Elinor was not his sister.

      Aunt Louisa was drawing on her gloves. ‘Until Monday afternoon, then. I shall look forward to it. Come, Elinor, there is much to do.’

      ‘Packing?’ Mademoiselle Julie ventured.

      ‘Packing? No, I have my work on the basilica to complete.’ The poor girl looked daunted, but she did not return the conspiratorial smile that Elinor directed at her.

      ‘Well, that is most satisfactory,’ Lady James pronounced, settled back in the carriage. ‘Four days should see a considerable advance in my researches. The chapel will provide a most valuable addition to chapter four.’ She took up her notebook and began to scribble, frowning as the carriage lurched over a rut.

      ‘You timed that announcement very neatly, Elinor.’ Theo was not smiling, however. He looked almost grim, she decided, puzzled. She had done what he had asked, hadn’t she? And the prospect of a house party at the chateau was something to be looked forward to, surely?

      ‘Thank you. I decided the only option to ensure they could not exclude you was to gush like that. Why did you assume they would not invite you? You knew the late count, after all.’

      ‘His son does not like me.’ It appeared to be mutual.

      ‘Really? I did notice a certain tension, but I assumed it was business matters.’ Tension was an understatement. The count had looked like the demon king and Theo positively dangerous. ‘He is very charming, and incredibly good looking.’

      Her cousin regarded her through narrowed eyes for a long moment, but all he said was, ‘Who is Mademoiselle Julie?’

      ‘I am not entirely certain. A distant connection of the countess, I think. She seems to act as her companion.’

      Theo lapsed into silence and Elinor recalled something she had noticed on their arrival at the chateau and had no opportunity to mention. ‘The driver of this coach is the man you hired to carry my things up the hill yesterday.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘He was waiting for you.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And he is already in your employ?’ He nodded. Elinor opened her mouth to demand to know why Theo’s employee was hanging around the town pretending to be a stray loafer looking for casual work and then closed it again. Not in front of Mama. He nodded again in recognition of her tact, the glimmer of a smile touching his mouth. It was the first genuine sign of pleasure she had seen from him since they arrived at Beaumartin.

      ‘You could stop now and have a fitting for your new gowns,’ Theo suggested as the carriage rolled into St Père. It was far too early for even the most industrious sempstress working alone to have anything ready for a first fitting. He knew it and she knew it. Only Lady James, loftily above such trivia as gowns would not think it strange. Perhaps Theo was going to confide in her at last.

      ‘What a good idea.’ Elinor sounded suspiciously bright and breezy, even to her own ears. ‘Will you drive me back to Vezelay later in the gig?’

      ‘Yes, of course. Aunt Louisa, that will be all right, will it not?’

      ‘What? Oh, yes, whatever will waste least time on fripperies.’ Lady James went back to frowning over her notebook.

      Theo stood watching the carriage vanish round the bend, leaving a cloud of dust and two yapping dogs in its wake, then fished a key out of his pocket and opened the door into the dressmaker’s shop.

      ‘Madame is not even here, is she? So, are you going to tell me what all the mystery is about?’

      ‘There is no mystery.’ Theo ignored her sceptical expression. ‘Just a confidential business matter. However, I need to talk to you about the count. It had not occurred to me that he may not be a suitable person for you to associate with. You should keep your distance from him throughout the stay. I could wish I had not involved you now.’