She looked up at him and murmured into his chest, ‘I’m not usually such a wimp.’ She felt herself relaxing into the warmth of his very large and powerful body.
They were sitting in the most comfortable seats they could find, waiting for their flight to be called. There was something comforting about letting him take charge for a bit, she thought to herself. I will recover my equilibrium in just a few moments and be back to my normal managing self. Bede closed her eyes and let her mind drift back.
It had been a lousy flight. There had been heavy winds and storms leaving Perth, and the turbulence had been more than she’d experienced before. The flight attendants had managed extremely well, supplying drinks and reassurance when needed. There had been constant quiet updates from the captain with details about the state of the storm and the projected abatement. It was only a ten-hour flight, but had seemed more like twenty to Bede. It was a relief when the captain finally announced they had outrun the storm and consequently were ahead of schedule. They landed in Dubai to calm pleasant hot dry weather.
It was January, and easily the most comfortable time to be in the Arab Emirates, but even so, she was thankful for the very efficient air conditioning in the departure lounge. She mused, thinking back to Gabriel’s translations. He had laboured over them into the evening and early hours of the morning on that first day. Not three hours after she’d left him eating late night sandwiches. He had woken her, and Martin too, when he had literally fallen out of bed. The sound was unmistakeable, knocked over the side table with the bedside lamp, and banged into the door trying to exit the room. She had been initially stunned by the noise and the expletives, and then thinking he may have hurt himself, she raced into the hallway, switching on lights as she went. He was leaning against the doorway looking dazed and ruffled in all his naked glory. He really was beautiful.
Martin, also woken by the noise, was standing in the door of his room. He grinned at her shocked expression and turned to Gabriel. ‘You really will have to start wearing something to sleep in, Gabe.’ Then turned around and went back to bed.
Gabriel had been embarrassed and apologetic. He tried to explain what had caused him to wake so suddenly. The dream had been about one particular letter than was probably significant, and he needed to check it now.
Bede had suggested gently, ‘Perhaps you need to put something on before starting again. Meredith will be up soon.’ Gabriel grimaced and turned back into his room. It was only 5 a.m., so she, too, had gone back to bed with the after image of his magnificent body before her eyes. It wasn’t a particularly restful image to take into sleep.
That had been the start of two hectic days. Gabriel headed straight to the study to recheck one of the letters he’d read. He explained the repercussions of that one letter to them all at breakfast the next morning. The name of the third letter writer, Dominic de Clario, was an ancestor of the patriarch. The particular letters he had been reading could pose questions about the current direct line of succession.
Meredith, who knew the family extremely well, explained to Hera and herself how important it was that the patriarch, in any given era, has the complete confidence of the whole of the extended family. She thought that even intimation would probably be a good reason to get rid of James! Martin was frankly sceptical, and after much discussion with Martin, Gabriel now had serious doubts. Neither Hera nor herself, even after Meredith’s explanation, could conceive that as a reason for murder. To both of them, it was inexplicable.
They discussed and argued the question over breakfast, lunch, and while taking the boys to the waterhole for a swim. Again over afternoon tea, and dinner. They couldn’t all agree. In the end, it was Gabriel who decided they needed to head to Paris, the patriarch, and the family archives. He explained that the patriarch, Laurent’s side of the family, had always kept the records. He suggested they needed firm proof before they could proceed. He was obviously the one to go to Paris, as he had the necessary contacts. He was also the only one who could relatively easily read medieval, middle, and modern French, plus Latin and Greek.
They all objected strongly to his high-handed pronouncements. There were more arguments and discussions, but as no one could suggest an alternative, it was decided that Bede, as the eldest, would accompany him. Everything had progressed with startling speed from that point, and now, here they are. They would look into the family archives. Gabriel had access to the research facilities in Bibliothèque Nationale de France if needed.
Meanwhile, Martin and Hera would continue to look for clues or leads at the property. There was still the problem of who searched the library on the day of James’s death. They needed to know exactly who had been on the property and at the house. They would start by gently questioning Mrs Robinson again, also Pete. They really needed to know more about him.
Martin thought that Gabriel was probably on a wild goose chase, and the book of letters was a red herring.
Meredith, still feeling unsettled and anxious after seeing them off, decided to take a hand. She went back into the house and picked up the phone to ring Josephine and Marina in Istanbul.
Chapter Seventeen
France
The flight from Dubai had been calm and peaceful. Bede slept a great deal of the time, probably more than Gabriel, really, but he didn’t look rumpled or tired. He looked his elegant self, if you could call jeans and T-shirt elegant. Their winter gear was in the overhead locker, ready for when they left the plane. Apparently, it was snowing in Paris. Gabriel, in a matter of weeks, had travelled from one hemisphere to another and back again. She hoped his constitution was up to the constant changes because there would be more of it, she was certain.
As they left the customs hall, Gabriel, beside her, suddenly exclaimed, ‘Good God, what now!’ And quickly moved toward two elderly women waving frantically at the arrivals gate. They beamed at him as he took the shoulders of the small chubby one, and gave her the traditional three-cheek kiss.
They were chattering away in rapid French, and Bede had to take a moment before she caught up. She heard Meredith’s name and realised her aunt had been doing some meddling. She felt a moment of pure rage, and then quickly suppressed it. Meredith was worried, as was she. These women were obviously relatives. Gabriel had greeted both with familiarity, and their manners, carriage, and dress were all confirmation. They were both white-haired, older than Meredith by quite a few years, she thought. They were beautifully dressed, looking smart and sophisticated as only French women can, even older women. The taller of the two, Gabriel now kissed on both cheeks and introduced as Josephine. She was slim and almost as tall as herself. The other must be Marina. She was shorter and well-nourished—was the term used these day—with sparkling blue eyes.
Bede suddenly found herself enveloped in a scented embrace with soft arms around her shoulders and soft lips on her cheeks. Marina was murmuring a welcome into her ear, and apologising for their surprise. She stepped back to make room for Josephine’s embrace, and they both started talking at once. It was overwhelming.
Gabriel held his hands in the air and said firmly, ‘Stop, one at a time please, we’re both very tired and a little stunned by seeing you here.’ He looked at Josephine. ‘You explain please and make it snappy.’ He put an arm around the shoulders of both of his elderly great-aunts and directed them to the entrance.
Marina chatted on, ‘We have the car, and there is Phillips.’
Bede looked around and saw an elderly man, probably in his seventies, in what appeared to be a chauffeur’s uniform.
Gabriel said in exasperation, ‘You have the Patriarch’s chauffeur? What are you both doing in Paris?’ Before her eyes, Josephine turned from a dithering elderly lady into all hard edges and flashing eyes. She grabbed Gabriel’s arm and turned him around, so they were all facing Bede, said quietly in accented English, ‘We will talk later. Now, just behave as if you were expecting to be met by us. Phillips will report bac
k everything we say, and it’s important that we all stay with the Patriarch.’
She turned with a bright smile to Bede, and said in French, obviously for the chauffeur’s benefit, ‘So lovely to see you here my dear.’ Then turned back to Marina, and in very loud rapid French, ‘This is so exciting, Gabriel here in Paris with James’s daughter. We will have to give a party tomorrow night, I think, we must start ringing around, see who’s available.’ She grabbed Bede’s arm and almost dragged her out of the terminal, talking quietly in English, ‘Phillips doesn’t understand much English, but we must talk quietly and quickly. Gabriel will go along with everything I say. He’s very bright and quick.
‘Now, Meredith has rung, I’m sure you realise that, and told us everything that’s been happening. I think she’s right it all fits. The only thing Marina and I are not sure of is whether the Patriarch is involved, so we decided that it would be best if we all stayed with him while you’re here in Paris. He doesn’t go out much these days and does most of his business at home.’ She turned back into the dithering elderly great-aunt that was obviously only one of many personas, and twinkled up at Bede, ‘Isn’t that a splendid plan?’ in loud French.
Bede was stunned. This woman was probably in her eighties, and Marina could only be a year or two younger. They had obviously decided to become involved in something that was potentially very dangerous. She looked across at Gabriel, and he raised his eyebrows and grimaced at her. She didn’t know what to think.
The two elderly ladies continued to chat in elegant French all the way back to the Patriarch’s beautiful residence. Gabriel responded to their queries with calm acceptance in every nuance of his voice. He sat between them, holding the hand of each, and occasionally patting one or the other. This latest aspect of his character intrigued Bede. He turned to her and smiled. ‘These outrageous women are some of my favourite people in the world, not including my parents of course. They are my mother’s aunts, and in fact, they actually brought my mother up, as her parents died when she was quite young.’ He was quiet for several moments, glancing at his two great-aunts and frowning slightly. ‘Mind you, they are not to be trusted under any circumstances, as my mother so often reminds me.’
They both smiled affectionately at him, then Josephine turned to Bede, ‘So tell me, my dear, about Meredith. How is she? And you must tell us about this property you live on. We really have no idea exactly where it is and how big it is.’
Bede was still feeling slightly stunned by these two dotty women. ‘I don’t know how to answer your questions,’ she said. ‘The property is in Western Australia and it’s very big’, she grinned at both of them, ‘probably almost as big as Paris really, but not so densely populated. Meredith is fine. Hera is fine. Martin is staying on the property for a while. He’s taking a bit of a holiday,’ she improvised quickly. Phillips might not understand much English, but he would recognise names. ‘It’s a beautiful time of the year, quite hot, but the colours are stunning, and everyone on the property had a few days off over the Christmas and New Year. It will still be very quiet, and they can swim and explore.’ She paused for breath and looked across at Gabriel.
He grimaced at her, but she saw approval in his eyes. He turned to Josephine ‘You know Martin, the property is very isolated, and it’s huge, completely outside his experience, he’s looking forward to the challenge of exploring and some horse riding.’
At that moment, they drew up in the circular drive of a beautiful palladium house on the outskirts of Paris. Bede felt as if they had been driving for hours, but in fact, it had been only forty minutes. They were in the 16ème, but she didn’t recognise anything around them.
A beautiful slim dark woman in her late fifties was descending the steps with a smile of welcome on her lips. She paused and held out her arms as Gabriel jumped from the car. ‘Mother, this is a pleasant surprise. You vowed never to come to Paris in the winter again.’ He swept her up and kissed her resoundingly on both cheeks. She smiled into his eyes. ‘Put me down you barbarian. And where is Martin? We will talk later.’ She turned to Bede, ‘And you are James and Penelope’s daughter, welcome, my dear. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.’
Bede felt as if she was losing the plot. These three women seemed to be shepherding both her and Gabriel. She had initially thought the two older women superficial and woolly headed as their appearance suggested, but now it was becoming obvious there was something more at work here. She looked again to Gabriel for some direction. He put his arm around her shoulders, drew her in close to his side, as they walked up the steps and murmured into her ear, ‘Just play along until we can work out what’s really going on here. Knowing these three, it’s probably not as simple as you might think.’
He brushed his lips across the tip of her ear, sending a shiver of awareness across her shoulders. He was sending some sort of message to someone, but whom? Phillips? His two great-aunts, or his mother?
She was tired, wanted a cup of tea, and grumpily dug her elbow into his ribs. He grinned down at her, and taking her hand firmly in his, drew her up the steps into the foyer of the house. He murmured into her ear, ‘All will be fine, try to relax.’ Then turned with a smile to greet the housekeeper.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her place of meditation. The evening had been pleasant and totally confusing, the Patriarch had been charming. The dinner guests were relatives and friends, obviously from the ‘ring around’. She had been introduced to everyone as James and Penelope’s daughter visiting with Gabriel. The dinner was very formal with several servants serving the various courses, as if they were still living in the early twentieth century.
She and Gabriel had left the property with enough clothes for just the three days they expected to be in Paris, all stuffed into a carry-on bag for the plane along with necessary thermals for the winter in Europe. She had brought no formal clothes, as she had assumed they would stay in an obscure hotel while pursuing their investigations. Being met at the airport had been a surprise, and then being virtually kidnapped by the three women had really thrown her off balance, particularly Gabriel’s acceptance of the event. She hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to him about it. Everything had been moving so fast.
Gabriel’s mother, noting the lack of formal clothing, had kindly lent her an evening dress. It was a beautiful soft black chiffon number, very flattering, and evening shoes to match. She wondered where they had appeared from; she was much taller and more slender than Gabe’s mother. Seeing Gabriel in formal evening attire had also surprised her. Did he keep a full wardrobe in the patriarch’s home? There was obviously a lot she didn’t know or understand about him or the situation.
During dinner, the conversation had been general. They had discussed the latest films, music, and even the current exhibitions at the Louvre. The three women had made many suggestions for her entertainment all involving Gabriel taking her on a quick sightseeing tour of Paris. It was obvious she would have to disabuse them of some of their misconceptions. She was being treated as if this was a social visit to meet members of the family and various connections. She was unsure what exactly they all thought she was doing here with Gabriel, but she had an awful suspicion that they assumed some sort of romantic interest?
As the evening progressed, she became aware of the three women acting in tandem and directing the conversations, while charming Laurent, Gabriel’s mother, seemed as much part of the charade as her two aunts.
She was hideously jet-lagged, her head was aching, and she desperately needed to sleep. She had just decided to drag herself off the bed when she heard a soft sound from across the room. The door handle turned slowly, and Gabriel slipped quietly into the room.
‘I hoped you’d still be awake. I wasn’t sure if you were aware of what those three witches were up to tonight, but they made sure the old man drank more than his usual quota of wine. He should sleep really well.’ He moved over to the bed, took both of her cold hands
into his warm ones, dropped a quick kiss onto her forehead, and pulled her to her feet. ‘I hope you’re up to a little sleuthing tonight? Apparently, the ladies want Laurent kept in the dark for the time being. We can slip down to the library. That’s where most of the archives and the old books are kept these days.’
‘Gabriel, I think all your family are quite mad. Those aunts of yours should be locked up and your mother seems just as bad.’
He grinned at her. ‘They’ve been talking to Meredith, so that’s where this performance originated. And yes, I agree, they are outrageous, but at least this way, we’ll have most of the night to see what we can find. Now we have to be really quiet. The servants have retired, the old man is a sound sleeper, and he retired as soon as everyone left, but there are motion sensors all over the house, and we don’t want to set off any alarms.’
Bede stopped. ‘Motion sensors? I hope you know where they are?’
He grinned at her. ‘Of course, Martin and I found most of them when we were about sixteen, I think, and nothing has changed since then. The Patriarch doesn’t like change.’ He tugged her again toward the door. ‘I like you in that dress by the way. It suits you.’
She glanced down at the soft chiffon and snapped, ‘Keep your mind on what we’re doing, it would be really embarrassing to be caught.’
They didn’t speak as Gabriel led her silently from the room and down the stairs to the library on the ground floor. Once inside, he spoke normally, ‘There are no sensors in here, Laurent used to work at night when he was younger and his wife was still alive. He doesn’t anymore. As I said, nothing has been changed for years. We can look through the relevant books easily.’
It was a beautiful room, the bookshelves built into the walls and under the long windows facing the garden. There were doors opening onto the terrace, tightly shut, and the curtains pulled across to block any light. The bookshelves were a wonderful polished wood of some sort, a lovely soft warm reddish colour with mouldings of what looked like stylised flowers and angels along the vertical struts. Bede was enchanted. Gabriel pointed to one side of the room at a shelf with large tomes in leather bindings and gold leaf writing on the spines.
A Conundrum Page 10