Chapter 18 #2
In addition to the maid, there were only three other servants, one of whom stared at him wordlessly, tears streaming down her face.
A woman of at least seventy summers, her name, Tristan learned, was Madame Durand.
She’d been the housekeeper for his parents.
As he got closer to her, she tried to dip into a curtsy, but Tristan hurriedly took hold of her elbows before she fell over.
‘I cannot believe it’s you, Monsieur le Marquis,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘We all believed you dead. Monsieur Fontaine said you had been killed along with your parents.’
‘Well, as you can see, Madame Durand, I am very much alive, and I am very happy to see you again.’ He couldn’t help wondering why the elderly servant was still residing in the chateau since she was clearly too old to work.
Mayhap Fontaine had a compassionate side to him when he wasn’t trying to murder the competition.
‘Will you be staying… Monsieur le Marquis?’ This time from a middle-aged woman whose tone was much more guarded. Raphael didn’t miss her slight pause as she spoke the name.
‘Naturally,’ Tristan told her. ‘This is my home.’
‘It has been Monsieur Fontaine’s home for some years now,’ the woman answered.
Tristan looked around the bleak hall before raising his eyebrows.
He did not comment, but the inference was obvious.
By now he was flanked by Raphael and Roan, and behind him, Gabriel, Hope and Faith.
His companions remained silent, knowing it was imperative Tristan stake his claim on the Chateau without their interference.
‘I am truly grateful to Monsieur Fontaine for stepping in to take care of the Chateau,’ Tristan continued steadily at length, ‘but since he has been its caretaker, I’m sure you agree that it is not actually his home.
I will of course be delighted to find him somewhere else to live after we have had the chance to go through the estate accounts.
’ He glanced obviously around the hall. ‘May I ask where Monsieur Fontaine is now?’
The woman glanced over at the only other person who hadn’t yet spoken – a man in his early thirties by Raphael’s approximation. ‘I believe Claude is visiting friends in St. Malo.’
Claude…
‘And you are…?’
There was a sudden silence, then the man gave the barest inclination of his head ‘Julien Dubois. I am Monsieur Fontaine’s secrétaire.
‘Ah, then you could well be just the man I need. While we wait for Monsieur Fontaine’s arrival, you can show me where he keeps all matters pertaining to the estates.
It will be tremendously helpful if we can get a head start on such mundane affairs.
’ He gave a broad smile, which was not returned.
Indeed, Julien Dubois looked very much as though he would prefer to be anywhere other than where he was.
‘I do not think we…’ the secrétaire began, only for Tristan to hold up his hand.
‘I’m certain Monsieur Fontaine values your opinion, but standing in the hall is not the place for me to hear it.
’ He turned to the middle-aged lady standing motionless.
‘Madame, since you have not told me your name, I must beg your forgiveness if I seem rude. I presume you are the housekeeper?’ He paused, looking at her inquiringly, giving her no option but to respond.
‘I am the Gouvernante, yes,’ she murmured after a moment. ‘My name is Marie Laval.’
‘Are there any other staff?’ Tristan enquired.
‘Only Thomas… Lefevre. He works outside.’
‘Then would you please locate Thomas and request his assistance in bringing in the luggage?’ Tristan was taking the utmost care to ensure his tone remained firm and pleasant, but his companions could see the signs of strain on his face.
‘Then perhaps you could ensure that four rooms are made ready initially.’
‘Initially?’
‘That is what I said,’ Tristan confirmed, his voice turning a little cooler. He was beginning to tire of their obvious prevaricating. ‘Then, a pot of tea would be most welcome. Please direct us to the salon.’
It was another five minutes before the housekeeper showed them into a faded but surprisingly cosy room. The large fire crackling merrily in the huge fireplace gave testament to its regular use.
‘Jeanne will bring your tea,’ she murmured, before hurrying out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
‘Very impressive, Tris,’ Roan declared as soon as they were alone. ‘I truly didn’t know you had it in you.’
‘Once a nobleman, always a nobleman, obviously,’ Tristan quipped with a faint grin.
‘How long do you think we’ve got before Fontaine turns up with reinforcements?’ Gabriel asked Raphael, watching the Frenchman peer out of the window.
‘Whether he’s taken in by Taffy’s story or not, he now knows we’re here,’ Raphael retorted.
‘Likely, he’s already on his way back - with hard riding he could be here before dark …
’ He stopped at the sound of a sudden thud against the door.
Then another. Slowly, the latch was lifted, and the door started to open, before abruptly being flung back on its hinges.
As one, they got to their feet and turned towards the now wide-open door… just in time to see Taffy sink to his knees in the doorway. A second later, he fell face down onto the floor, revealing a large knife sticking out of the centre of his back.