Chapter 11
If Jean-Luc has already beaten me to moving into this place, I’m going to be furious. I scan the area to the right, searching for another sign of Jean-Luc. I notice a set of stone steps with a rotting wooden door at the bottom of the stairs. I lift the circular handle and push the door open with a loud creak. Underneath the house, the smell of damp, stale air assaults my senses. If I thought the chateau was bad, under here is way worse. I cover my nose with my scarf, hoping it’ll help stop me from retching.
I scan the dark room and, needing light, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. A notification from Luc catches my attention.
Luc
how is Carcen’s newest tourist doing today?
Luc messaging me this is a good sign. We had fun the other night, and it’s not just me who feels this growing connection between us.
Rory
Oh, you know, visiting some old monuments. By far my favorite is the coffee though.
Luc
A monument to coffee? That’s a first I’ll need to visit.
Rory
Hahaha. My life is a monument to coffee. But I’ll take you to my new-found favorite coffee shop.
It’s early to call a place my favorite, but I’m a creature of habit, and this place so far is amazing. I reread the message I just sent to Luc, my eyes widening. I just asked him out, and he hasn’t replied. What if he isn’t ready for a second date? Oh shit. Oh shit. I begin to hyper-fixate on my message. Seconds tick by with no response. I’m about to pocket my phone when it pings.
Luc
deal
I bite my bottom lip as I read the message. He wants to see me again. Holy crap, everything really is turning up Rory. It takes a while for the excitement to die down enough that I can concentrate back on my notepad and the jobs I need to do. I turn the flashlight on and begin to survey the room properly. There are a few rusted pipes that are stuck on the wall to my left. But it is the giant metal tank that catches my attention. Could this be the chateau’s gas heating? With my fingers burning from the cold, I abandon the basement search, closing the door behind me a little harder than necessary. I make my way into the main chateau through the side entrance; an old tap sits against the wall underneath a basin, and a crude bench sits along the wall. This could make a good kitchen. A loud thumping sound reverberates through the house. I check to see if something has fallen, praying it was the bricks settling in the chimney and not a wall about to collapse. I take a few steps back and check the wall above the fireplace for any new cracks. The thudding sound returns after a minute. I stick my head around the wall connecting to the foyer and look around to see if something has fallen there. The shadow of blond curls outlines a head in the small square window near the door.
“Ahhh!” I give a scream in panic at the shadow in the window, like all my TV show nightmares were coming together at once and Jack the Ripper 2.0 on the other side of the door is coming to slit my insides. More mess to clean. Yippee.
“Aurora,” the muffled voice bleeds through the ten-inch-thick wood, freezing my body in place.
“Madeline?” I ask, blood ringing in my ears. I open the door slightly and peek an eye through the slit to find her standing on the other side, holding a wicker picnic basket.
“Aurora, bonjour.” She smiles. I open the door wider and let her in.
“You gave me a heart attack.” I rest my hand on my racing heart.
Madeline steps over the threshold. “Sorry about that.” She dots my cheek with a kiss, her eyes scanning the room and focusing on my suitcase before her gaze shifts to me, and the corners of her mouth turn down. An unreadable shadow passes across her face. “You’re intending to fix this chateau?” she asks curiously.
“Yes. I can’t wait to live here. I almost feel like I’ve won the lottery inheriting this place. Well, partially inherited…” Maybe I should ask Madeline if she knows who Jean-Luc is?
Madeline grabs the picnic basket from the crook of her elbow and hands it to me. “I had a really good time last night, I thought we could spend some time getting to know each other more.”
I stare at her, blinking rapidly. I’d never been welcomed by someone like this before. “Thank you. I’d really like to get to know you more too.”
She raises her eyebrow in question, looking at the layer of silt covering the floors. “Have you ever renovated a chateau before?”
“Nope.” I snort a laugh and shake my head. “I’m an artist, the most I can do is paint the walls well.” I put my hand on my hips, although I believe at the moment that could be considered loosely. I add, “But I’m a quick learner.”
She purses her lips, her eyes surveying around us. “Still. This is a lot to handle on your own.”
No kidding. And throw in a deadline as the cherry on top.
“I’m supposed to be working with Jean-Luc, but I haven’t even met him yet.” I shrug.
Her lips twitch. “Then I guess you’ll have your work cut out for you. Maybe I could pitch in to help a bit.”
“I have a list.” I show her my notepad. “I need to buy quite a few things.” I scan the list and pick the most standout points. “I also need to hire a car or van at some point to get all the stuff here, oh, and get my license.” I feel that might be a requirement to renting a car.
“Well then.” Madeline puts the basket on the ground and stands with her hands on her hips, lifting her chin at me. “I think my skills would be better used helping you get the stuff on your list. We can come back for lunch later.”
“Some help would be great.” I smile, mentally clapping my hands and jumping up and down, relieved to have some help.
“Well, then, let’s go.”
I follow her out the door, locking it behind me.
“Aurora,” Madeline calls, and I turn on my heel to her. “I’m also really glad it means you’ll be staying here longer,” she says as she gets into her car and waits for me.
A few hours later, Madeline and I have managed to sweep and clean out the sitting room and foyer and started boarding up the windows in an attempt to contain the little amount of heat we can before she had to leave.
“Phew, that was hard work,” I exclaim, wiping the sweat from my brow as I sweep the last of the debris from the entryway into the dustpan. My arms scream at me, and my legs ache from all the cleaning. I’m already dreading my walk back to my hotel room tonight. I stare out at the gray sky; I hope it isn’t about to start raining, I’m not entirely sure the roof isn’t going to leak, and I have no idea what to do if it did.
I’ve become familiar with the sitting room to the left of the doorway and the soon-to-be kitchen to the right. In the middle sits a giant, absurdly long balustrade staircase, the once–deep walnut handrail now peeling and fading. I inspect the base of the staircase where the spindly wrought-iron baluster starts. I immediately recognize the lion heads designed in the iron posts; it’s an exact match to the lion heads gilding the front doors. My finger runs over the workmanship of the iron baluster. The rough indentations on the face of the lion catch the soft skin of my fingertips. I squat down to get a better look.
“What the…?” I mumble, shining the light from the flashlight I’d purchased with Madeline onto it. A multitude of beams of light, the same shade as the depth of the ocean unknown to man, glitter back at me.
“It’s sapphires!” I gasp, and my head draws back stiffly, electricity dancing across my skin. I’m staring at actual sapphires. It’s a small detail, but it screams volumes to the wealth that the original duke and duchess possessed. I jump up and run to the opposite side, flashing the light on the lion’s heads. My breath hitches when the same blue sapphire eyes stare back at me. I climb the rest of the staircase, my excitement growing with each lion head shining back its two sapphire eyes.
“That’s ten lion heads with sapphire eyes,” I say, climbing back down the staircase. A strange paneling on the wall beside the staircase catches my attention. I lightly tap one of the indents, and the wall shudders and heaves, causing me to jump back in fright, dropping the flashlight and plunging me into darkness. With one hand clutching my racing heart, I bend down to pick up the flashlight and shine a light on the wall. As my eyes adjust to the change, I notice a crack in the wall and push on it. The wall heaves again and opens farther.
“A secret passage?” I question. Are you kidding me? First the lion heads, then a secret passage. What’s next? Am I going to find a coffin with the dead duchess or something? Adrenaline floods my veins at what could be hidden behind here. I shine the light inside to make sure it’s not some dungeon with no floor. When I see it’s another room, I squeeze my body through the narrow opening. Inside the room, the floor-to-ceiling windows are decorated with cascade curtains in a powder green color, the fabric frayed and littered with small holes from sun exposure. A chandelier, the shape of a giant, red-seeded dandelion, hangs from the ceiling. Each crystal and shard of glass act like umbrella-like extensions protruding from the center ball. A set of double doors at the opposite end of the wall leads to the main entrance to the room. It is the most exciting room I’ve seen so far.
Back in the main entranceway of the chateau, I stand on the bottom step and stare up at the chateau, counting four floors. The staircase spirals all the way to the top, probably all decorated with lion heads too. The first fifteen stairs lead up to the first landing, where there’s a wall with yellowed cream wallpaper and a stunning circular window. The wallpaper on both walls bisecting the back wall is a mint green color. The dramatic change in color shows different generations and time periods. The steps creak under my weight; not really sure how solid the banister is, I stick to the wall, hoping it supports my weight as I draw a rough outlay of the room. I walk farther down the hallway and cringe at the purple, fuzzy-carpet wallpaper.
“Wow, that is some serious wallpaper.” If you can even call it that. It’s totally not the vibe I’m going for, anyway.
The scent of stale air is undeniable, burning my eyes and making my head hurt. I open the next door, and a violent scream tears from my throat as I quickly slam it shut. I shudder, the image of the thick blanket of dead flies covering the ground like my worst nightmare come to life now burned into my memory. This chateau is turning into a house of my deepest fears rather than a soon-to-be bed-and-breakfast.
“That was disgusting. That has got to be the whole population of flies living in the chateau,” I cry, needing to have a shower just from being in proximity to that room.
“Is everything all right?” A deep male voice behind me causes a bloodcurdling scream to escape my lips as my stomach bottoms out.
With my hand still pressed to my chest, my grip tightens on the flashlight as I quickly turn, holding the base of the flashlight like a weapon, my heart thumping against my rib cage.
“Luc!” I shriek, staring at him, lowering my crude baseball bat, my breaths still short and sharp pants.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Aurora,” Luc says, brushing my cheek with a gentle hand, a small grin on his face. Before he quickly tucks his hands into the pockets of his camel-brown overcoat. A different one from the last two times I’ve seen him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my breath finally returning to normal. I scrub my hand down my face, then it clicks. He’s come here to pick me up for our coffee date. “What, were you here to take me out for coffee?” Ah crap, I must have forgotten the time, I should’ve put an alarm on my phone to warn me. But we didn’t actually set a time.
His eyebrows squish together. “No.”
A sinking feeling settles in my gut. I stare at Luc, blinking slowly, as another realization dawns on me. Wait, he couldn’t be here to take me out for coffee, I didn’t even tell him I was at the chateau. How did he even know I was here?
“Aurora, I didn’t realize you were staying here when I dropped you off at your hotel yesterday,” he continues, evading my question as if he didn’t just scare the marrow from my bones. My lips press into a flat line. Did Madeline have something to do with this? Is this some sort of weird intervention? Is Pierre going to walk in through the door next?
“I didn’t realize I had to inform you,” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. If he was going to play coy, so would I.
“Ah.” He looks lost for words. “No, no, I did not mean it like that,” he backtracks, pulling his hands out of his pocket and waving them in a submissive gesture. “You told me you were visiting family.”
“I am, the Monet family.” I gesture to the chateau around me.
Luc shakes his head, his brows pulled down in a frown. “Aurora, there are no more Monets, they’re all dead.”
No shit, genius. It takes everything in me to resist rolling my eyes. “How did you know I was here?” I quirk an eyebrow, not impressed with his line of questioning. How he could just waltz into the chateau like he owned it. I did lock the gate after Madeline left?
“I was driving past and saw the gate open; I came in and heard you up here.”
Pear and fig sticks. Mental note—lock the gate.
“And Madeline didn’t mention anything?” The desire to explore the rest of the chateau crushed by his appearance.
“No.”
I glide past him, down the staircase, annoyance rolling off my shoulders in waves. “Aurora, please wait.” Luc grabs my elbow just as my feet touch the landing, turning me to face him.
“What,” I grit out, crunching my back molars, eyes narrowed, chin set.
“I am not sure about the information you received, but you cannot stay in this chateau.” The smile falls from his face.
Is he the building inspector? But he said he was an architect.
“I know there are probably a lot of code violations, I need to read the plan from the building inspector, but I plan to fix them quickly.”
“Fix them?” he questions, eyebrows raised to his hairline and lips set in a hard line.
“Yes, how else would I be able to turn this chateau into a place for people to come and stay.” I stare at him with my head cocked to the side. Sure, I know my French is not even conversational, but I’ll get better, and once I have the place up and running, I plan to put it on the tourist map.
“Aurora, I think you have been told the wrong information. You cannot stay here.” Luc releases my elbow. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. It’s pretty obvious I can’t stay here, hence the hotel.
If he thinks he is going to bully me into leaving, he has another thing coming. Taking a step back from him, I stare with my mouth agape, eyes nearly falling out of my head. Who does he think he is to tell me I can’t stay here?
“No, Luc, you’re mistaken. This chateau belongs to me.” I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest. “If I want to stay here, I can.” As stupid of a decision as it may be, I could, and Luc most certainly wouldn’t have a say in it.
“My grandmother was Monsieur Monet’s childhood friend; she left the chateau to me,” Luc argues back, the muscle on the side of his jaw ticking.
The room turns deathly silent, you could hear a pin drop as I continue to stare at him, the anger boiling in my veins. How dare he come in here and tell me that he owned this place? This place has been inherited by Jean-Luc and me. Not Luc.
“If you’re here to play a game of whose more related, I’m Louis’s great-niece.” I point my thumb to my chest. “Blood trumps ex-girlfriend.” I pull my lips into an evil grin, glaring him down, more than ready to take a DNA test to prove it.
Luc clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear when I introduced myself.”
My nostrils flare.
“My name is Jean-Luc Badeaux III, and you need to leave this chateau.”