by Karen Abbott
Their greetings over, Lys got straight to the point.
“Was my drawing good enough, Robert? Do you recognise the setting? What can you tell me about it?”
Robert laughed at her eagerness.
“Whoa! Whoa! Slow down a bit, Lys. Yes, it was good enough … and yes, I recognise it. It looks to me like the Monsigny Collar. It has been in the Monsigny family for a couple of centuries and ought to be at home in the Monsigny Chateau. There have been no reports of it having been stolen. Are you sure it’s genuine? It could be a fake.”
Lys pulled her face.
“It looks real … but, then, a good fake would, wouldn’t it? I hadn’t thought of that! Is it likely that there’s a fake around?”
“Could be. A lot of valuable pieces are copied. Their owners keep the genuine items safely in the vaults and wear the fakes!”
“Oh.”
She suddenly felt that she had been reading too much into the incident. A fake necklace would hardly warrant much attention. Still, that would take Xavier out of suspicion of any crime, wouldn’t it? Her spirit brightened. She had been worrying over nothing!
Her recovered spirit didn’t last long. Robert picked up on her disappointment and added, “Of course, that doesn’t explain why this guy of yours should have it in his possession. Whether he knows it’s a fake or not, it’s a bit suspicious that he has it at all! What’s the connection?”
Lys shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
Her mind ran swiftly over possibilities … none of them satisfactory. A fake was either a decoy or a fraud! Where did Xavier fit into either scene?
“I’ll see if there’s anything else I can discover,” Robert promised her, before he rang off.
Lys’s inner misgivings over the matter were pushed into the background by yet another day passing by with no-one coming to look at their requirements for the renovation of the windmill.
“I’m going to see what’s holding them up, Grand-père,” she announced over lunch on Friday. “If they didn’t want the jobs, why didn’t they say so?”
In a mixture of determination and anxiety, she took her bicycle out of the shed and set off to visit the local businesses that had expressed an interest in their requirements. The first two proprietors she visited made uncomfortable apologies about unforeseen urgent work needed to be done elsewhere.
The third proprietor, Pierre Auden, listened carefully to her now well-rehearsed questions and sighed heavily as he placed his hands on the table between them.
“I am sorry, mademoiselle Dupont … but I have my business to think of. If I do work that is unlikely to be paid for …” He shrugged his shoulders expressively. “ … I would soon be in trouble and be faced with closing down. I wish you and Etienne well … but I have to be realistic!”
Lys felt the colour drain out of her face … and then rush back in again.
“What do you mean?” she demanded. “Grand-père would never be in debt to anyone, let alone to local businesses! He knows all about sailing close to the wind! His milling business folded through lack of trade … but he has no unpaid debts! We have gone through everything and, with the grant from the municipal authorities, everything will be paid for as it is done!”
The edges of Pierre’s mouth pulled downwards as he shook his head.
“That’s not what the local grapevine is saying. The word is out that there’ll be no grant … and no funds to fall back on. I’m sorry, mademoiselle.”
The shock Lys felt at his words showed clearly on her face. She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself.
“Who has told you this?”
Pierre shrugged slightly.
“As I said, the local grapevine. A number of people called me … Guerlain, Brieuc, Hillotte. All said the same thing.”
“But it’s not true!” Lys protested. “I have spoken with the clerk of works at St. Pierre. He was very encouraging and promised a swift passage through the necessary channels. I beg you to reconsider.”
“Nothing would please me more, mademosielle! Bring me written word from Etienne’s bank and I will be delighted to submit an estimate.”
Lys retraced her steps to the two businesses she had already visited and, in response to her direct questions, was given the same answer. Someone had spread malicious rumours. Determined to discover the source, she visited the other businesses. Finally, m. Hillotte was willing to give a direct source.
“It was a young lady from the municipal bureau,” he admitted. “She said she had heard that you were touting around for estimates but that you had no chance of being granted to necessary funds.”
Lys frowned.
“Is it usual practice for a municipal employee to do that?”
The same Gallic shrug preceded monsieur Hillotte’s response.
“Not really. I took it as a piece of genuine advice and counted it a fortunate escape.”
“And passed it around the district?”
M. Hillotte had the grace to look ashamed.
“We stick together. No-one wants to see friend’s businesses fail, even if they are competitors!”
“Very admirable!” Lys snorted. “You would do better to check the facts first! Do you realise my grandfather could sue you for slander?”
M. Hillotte looked regretful.
“I repeat my apology, mademoiselle. The source seemed genuine. It was the municipal office.”
Lys shook her head.
“It couldn’t be! There is no foundation for the rumour!”
Lys glanced at her watch, pleased to see that she had time to get to St. Pierre before closing time. She cycled home, left her bicycle and transferred to her car. This had to be sorted!
Brushing aside all efforts from the receptionist to insist on her making an appointment, Lys eventually entered the chief clerk’s office and laid her complaint before him.
At the end of her tale, he instantly begged leave of her and disappeared into the inner office. It was five minutes before he returned.
“My enquiries have been unsuccessful in discovering any such phone call from these premises, mademoiselle. The only other people with access to this request for a grant are my secretary, whose word I trust beyond all reproach, and m. Boudot, who is not in today. I find it hard to believe that he would jeopardise his career in this way. However, I will pursue the matter with him and let you know the results.”
He peered at her over his spectacles.
“In the meantime, let me tell you that your application is being seen to right now and I am sure you will be receiving good news one day next week. I have pushed it through with last month’s applications because I believe your project will indeed bring much interest to the area and give us the boost we need in the tourist trade. Now, how about an official note from me to take round to these building businesses you have mentioned?”
He smiled kindly at her.
“I assure you, mademoiselle, I will do all I can to get to the roots of this matter. Leave it with me.”
Lys knew at whose door she would lay the first enquiries! Leon Boudot had the motive of revenge and was ruthless enough to do it! But, without proof, she wasn’t prepared to accuse him. He would issue writs of slander if her accusations were unfounded, of that she was certain!
Satisfied that she had done all she could, Lys took her leave of him and once more revisited the appropriate businesses with the clerk’s note of approval, receiving assurances of swift quotations being prepared from all concerned.
Her grandfather greeted her arrival home with news that Xavier had called in to see him and had made his initial sketches of both him and the windmill.
“He’s a likeable fellow,” Grand-père commented. “I think he has missed you over the past few days. Not had an argument with him, have you?”
“No, nothing like that. I’ve been busy, that’s all,” Lys assured him, feeling guilty at having to conceal her true reasons from him. At least she could now reveal what she had been doing all after
noon. Needless to say, Etienne was appalled by her news, upset that someone had spread malicious lies about his solvency … and that his friends and neighbours of many years had been willing to believe the lies without checking first with him.
“Did they think I would cheat them?” he demanded, sinking into his chair.
Lys felt concerned about him. She didn’t want this to cause another heart attack. She wished she hadn’t told him what she had discovered.
“They were worried about their own businesses,” she pacified him. “They obviously felt too embarrassed to check with you. Let’s see what happens now that they know the truth.”
Lys didn’t know whether to be sorry or glad that she had missed Xavier’s visit. She longed to see him again but felt that her motives would be wrong if she were the one to seek him out … unless she were also prepared to ask him about his possession of the necklace. She ought to do so … but she didn’t want to have to face the fact that he might have stolen it, or, at the very least, involved in its theft. Had he double-crossed the other conspirators? Is that why they had resorted to violence to get it back?
They had been unsuccessful in their first attempt. Would they try again? And, if so, what would they do next? Was Xavier aware that he might be in danger? Perhaps she ought to warn him?
She had a disturbed sleep that night, dreaming of being chased through innumerable streets in a city she didn’t know and awakened on Saturday morning determined to visit Xavier at Le Chateau. She wasn’t sure exactly what she would say to him but decided to see how events turned out and be led by what felt right at the time.
Just after ten o’clock, two building contractors came in person to see what needed doing at the windmill, one to see to the work in the interior and the other to look at the outer rendering and paintwork. Both were effusive with their apologies for taking heed to the unfounded slur on Etienne’s character and promised favourable estimations for the necessary work.
Another prospective worker came mid-afternoon, bearing apology from his employer, followed by yet another less than an hour later. Both eventually took their leave, promising early estimates. Things were looking promising and Etienne went to lie down, before preparing to visit madame Giraud for his evening meal.
Lys had been invited also but she declined with thanks.
“I … er … might drive into Le Chateau,” she excused herself. “We need some shopping and I might … er …”
“Visit your young man?” Etienne enquired with a smile.
“He’s not my young man!” Lys denied with small conviction, her face blushing.
“Of course not,” Grand-père agreed. “Enjoy yourself … and don’t worry about me. Madame Giraud will take good care of me.”
Lys drove to Le Chateau, did some necessary shopping at the local ‘Super U’ and then drove round towards the port. As expected, Xavier was seated outside his studio, painting portraits again.
He smiled a welcome, making Lys’s heart beat faster. His eyes seemed to linger hungrily upon her and she had to remind herself that he might not be the innocent artist he claimed to be. She smiled briefly and turned her gaze to the sketches exhibited around the inner walls of the wooden studio and on the doors. There was a variety of sketches of birds; seascapes and landscapes; a few of the port from different angles; the pavement cafés around the Town Square; the indoor Fish, Fruit and Vegetable market … and their windmill!
Her heart filled with pleasure. It looked attractive, even in its dilapidated state. He hadn’t doctored it to make it look grander than it was. It was there, warts and all! But beautiful to her eyes.
She was aware of someone’s presence behind her and knew it was Xavier. She could feel his breath on her neck as he looked over her shoulder.
“Do you like it?” he asked, smiling at her.
“Oh, yes. You’ve captured it just right.”
He had drawn the hollyhocks and roses that grew around it, giving it grace and appeal.
“Can I buy it?” she asked impulsively.
“For you, it is a gift,” Xavier said, unpinning the sketch and handing it to her.
“No, no! I must pay for it!” Lys insisted, embarrassed by his generosity.
“I have drawn more,” Xavier said lightly. “The cost of paper and charcoal is minimal. Please accept it.”
What else could she do?
“Thank you. I’ll treasure it always,” she assured him.
“And here is your well,” Xavier pointed out, “and here …”
“Grand-père!”
Indeed it was! He was sitting in the doorway of his cottage, his eyes full of his dreams of the future. Hope, expectancy and love shone out of him.
“Oh, Xavier!”
She swallowed hard, fighting the lump in her throat and the threat of tears in her eyes.
“It is also for you … eventually,” Xavier told her. “At the moment, it is my working sketch. See!”
He moved to a covered easel and lifted the cloth that hung upon it. The beginnings of a painted portrait smiled out at her. It bore excellent likeness to Etienne but she knew that more of his character would eventually be portrayed there. She nodded her pleasure.
“It’s splendid!” she breathed softly, turning her eyes from the portrait to Xavier.
He was standing very close and she could feel the warmth of his body through her thin summer dress. He touched her arm, sending electric tingles though her body. Her inside seemed to melt and she felt herself swaying towards him, drawn closer by the magnetism she sensed from him.
“Are you staying until later?” Xavier asked. “I’ve missed you this week.”
His dark brown eyes seemed like pools of melted chocolate and Lys felt her reservations about him fading away as she drowned in their depths. She flicked her eyelashes down momentarily, trying to recapture her sanity … but she knew it was too late for that. Xavier Piquet had stolen her heart and she didn’t care how he had come into possession of the diamond necklace, legally or illegally.
“Yes,” she said softly, turning to face him. Her hands had risen and were placed against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat. It seemed to match her own. “Grand-père has been invited to tea at madame Giraud’s,” she added. “He’ll be all right.”
“Good!” Xavier whispered, as he lowered his head and placed his mouth gently over hers. His hands drew her closer still, moulding their bodies together.
A raging fire seemed to consume Lys. She had missed him so much all week and now she knew why. Their previous kisses had been only a prelude to this … and there was more to come, she knew.
She loved him!
No matter that he had said he wanted only a summer romance with no strings attached, she had fallen in love! Even though heartache might lie ahead, there was no turning back. She loved him! She loved him!
Chapter Nine
Lys made the instant decision to tell Xavier about the diamond necklace being in her car and that she had hidden it until she knew what to do with it … but was forestalled from mentioning it by the arrival of a potential client calling “Cooee!” from the doorway.
Xavier gently disengaged from the kiss and squeezed Lys’s arms.
“Business calls,” he apologised ruefully.
Intoxicated by his kiss, Lys nodded.
“That’s okay. I understand. I’ll go to the café at the end and get a Take-Away pizza, shall I?” she offered, knowing that Xavier’s artistic services could be on demand until the fading light prevented more.
That done, she cut the pizza into slices and put them on the upturned box that served him as a table and sat on his bedroll, her back against the door, content to watch him at work. She was fascinated by his deft movements … his assessing glances at his model; his economy of use of the charcoal; the warmth of his smile that made each model fall under the spell of his charm and present themselves at their best.
Young men, as well as girls, came to be painted, mostly brought by their girl-friend or wife �
�� and children wriggling impatiently. Even pet dogs had their likeness captured on paper, their owners effusively grateful.
Lys smiled indulgently. No-one received the depth of smile or warmth of glance as she received from him. She felt more able to cope with whatever possibility presented itself now that she had admitted the true depth of her feeling for him.
Every so often, she strolled around behind him to see what he had drawn, marvelling at his skill. She couldn’t resist touching him as she stood by him. Just her fingertips on his shoulder seemed to draw electricity from his body to hers and she wondered if he felt it also.
Maybe he did. His eyes would momentarily leave the model and smile up at her. She couldn’t help but notice the appreciative light in them and she longed for his sketching to be over so that they could spend some time alone together.
Not that kissing would come first. She knew she had to tell him about finding the necklace in her car. Whatever his reaction, she couldn’t deceive him about it any longer.
When the moment came … after the last client had departed and he had tidied away his materials and tools … she wasn’t sure how to begin.
“Shall we go to the restaurant for some supper?” Xavier suggested as he locked the door. “I’ve done well today. If I had better clothes with me I would take you to the Hotel Paris. It’s Saturday night! The night for lovers!”
He drew her to him as he spoke, their foreheads pressed together. He gently nibbled at her lips.
Lys responded … but only half-heartedly, knowing she must delay no longer.
“I’m not hungry yet. Let’s walk round the citadel for a while. I have something I must tell you.”
“Nothing is wrong, is it?” Xavier instantly asked, looking concerned. “Your Grand-père? He is all right?”
“What? Oh, yes, he’s fine … though we have had some trouble I must tell you about later. No, this is something different … something between you and me.”
Xavier pulled her to him again as they approached the narrow metal footbridge that led over the narrow inlet to the inner harbour and across to the other side. From here, they climbed up the steep side of the grassy bank that overlooked the harbour on the citadel side. The moon had risen and its rippled reflection shimmered in the calm water.