All That Glitters (11 page)

To say that the setting was enchanting would be an understatement. It was truly like the Chateaus one reads about in fairy tales.

Zack joined Hildy and Jay as they stood at the entrance to the patio. Cammie, Francois, Jenny, and Peter were already seated at one of the tables, sipping sherry with the Count and Countess.

Hildy paused briefly at the doorway and spoke to Zack in an undertone, making sure no one but Jay could hear her. “What is your impression of the Count and Countess?” she asked him.

“I like the Count,” Zack said in a quiet voice. “I like him very much. I think he’s sincere and trustworthy.”

“What about the Countess?” Jay asked.

“I sense an animosity that the Countess is trying to hide,” Zack replied. “I think we should keep an eye on her.” By this time they were too close to the others for Zack to say any more.

The staff had prepared a delicious lunch of chicken salad and fruit, accompanied by sparkling French wine—just the thing for an outdoor repast in warm weather. A dessert cart with every French pastry imaginable put the finishing touches to the meal. This was followed by more sherry of the finest French vintage.

When they were all through, Count Francois I put down his napkin and smiled. “Now—I suggest that we all go for a stroll and walk off some of this food,” he said, gesturing toward the shaded walkway. “This path goes for a couple of miles, but we don’t have to go that far. I just want to make sure you enjoy everything that our home has to offer.”

As they entered the pathway, the sun was fighting its way through the shade of the tall trees, giving just enough warmth to the sudden cooling of the mid-afternoon air.

Cammie walked ahead hanging on to Francois’ arm. Countess Lilli Claude Dubonnet followed behind, a smug smile on her face.

* * *

Zack couldn’t help noticing. What is she so pleased about? he wondered. Somehow he didn’t feel it was because she approved of Cammie. He wasn’t even sure that she did.

He toyed with the idea of going back to the Chateau to look at some of the records, but was afraid if he excused himself now he might arouse suspicion. He would have to wait for the right moment. And he needed to find out where the records were kept. They might not be here, anyway, he thought. Maybe they’re at Francois’ Chateau in Biarritz.

CHAPTER XIV
 

The next morning Zack woke up to the sound of voices directly beneath his window. He arose and looked out. Down below he could see two people talking, but couldn’t make out who they were. It was six o’clock, and the sun was just rising. Darkness was fighting the dawn, but the dawn was winning, and the sun soon shone brightly on the two.

Now he could see who they were—the Countess and her son, Francois. They were speaking in French, barely above a whisper. But Zack had ears like a hawk, and understood enough French to make out most of what they were saying.

“Everything is taken care of,” he heard
Francois say. “Stop worrying.”

“We must succeed,” the Countess told him. “Nothing must go wrong. We’ve come this far. We must prove—” Her voice faded as she turned her head in the other direction, and Zack lost the words. Then she turned back again and faced Francois. “You’re sure Cammie won’t back out?” Zack heard her ask him.

“Positive!” Francois sneered. “She’s so crazy about me she can’t see straight!”

Zack stiffened at his obvious arrogance. Wait a minute! Did he hear Andre’s name mentioned? What did he have to do with this? Or is it some other Andre they’re talking about?

He strained to hear more, but just then the elder Count joined them, and they stopped talking. What are they plotting? Zack wondered. And what is it that they must prove?

“What are you two talking about?” Zack heard the Count ask them.

“Oh—” The Countess laughed. “Nothing that would interest you. Francois and I were just having a mother-son chat. By the way,” she asked her husband, “how do you like Cammie?”

“She’s beautiful,” he replied with enthusiasm. “I think she’ll be a great asset to the family. And I like her mother and father and their friends. They’re nice people.”

Francois looked smug. “I’m glad you approve, Father.”

Zack turned away from the window. No sense listening any further, he decided. They obviously aren’t going to say anything more in front of the Count. He still hadn’t figured out how to get a look at any records they might have, but after hearing their conversation, he was sure that there was an ulterior motive hidden behind Francois’ desire to marry Cammie.

There was no more sleep for him this morning, so he took his shower and dressed, deciding to take a walk under the shaded trees. After walking about a mile away from the Chateau, he sat on one of the benches to think. Communing with nature always helped to put him in tune with his intuition, and he hoped to come up with some answers soon.

For almost an hour he sat there, deep in thought. Yesterday when they first arrived he noticed a large book on a marble pedestal in the middle of the foyer. I’ll bet it’s a Bible, and it must have names and dates of births, marriages, and deaths listed in it. How can I get a look at it?

He made his way back to the Chateau just as they were sitting down to breakfast. It was a bit cooler this morning, so breakfast was served in the dining room in front of the fireplace.

“Where have you been?” Jay asked Zack as he joined them.

“I woke up early and thought I’d take a walk,” Zack said as he stretched his arms. “I must have fallen asleep while I was sitting on one of the benches.”

Breakfast was a feast fit for a King, not just a Count and his guests. What a repast! There were pancakes, bacon, sausages, eggs, potatoes, and steak for anyone who wanted it. And, of course, the usual croissants, and French bread with an assortment of jams and jellies. The cozy, soothing aroma of coffee filled the Chateau. And for anyone who preferred tea, that was available, too.

As soon as they finished eating, Count Francois I stood up. “I’ve invited some guests over tonight to meet Francois’ fiancé,” he announced, smiling at Cammie. “I hope you don’t mind. I think you’ll like them. It will be a dinner-dance. We’ll be dining in the ballroom.”

“That’s extremely thoughtful of you, Count Dubonnet,” Hildy said. “But don’t go to any trouble on our account.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” he assured her. “I love doing it. And please,” he smiled, “call me Fran. That’s what all my friends call me. We are, after all, going to be a family.”

“How nice!” Hildy exclaimed. “My friends all call me Hildy. And you know my husband is Jay, and our friends here are Zack, Jenny, and Peter. And, of course,” she laughed, “our daughter, Cammie! I think first names are a lot more friendly, don’t you?”

A glimpse of disapproval showed on Lilli’s face, which she quickly replaced with a smile. “Oh, yes,” she agreed. “Please call me—uh—Lilli. That makes us all one happy family, doesn’t it?” She turned to her husband and changed the subject. “What have you planned for today, Cherie? Anything interesting?”

“I’ve arranged for a nice ride through the countryside,” he replied. “I thought we might go to Mont Richard. I heard that a director from the States is filming a movie there. It should be fun to watch.”

Lilli grimaced. “Don’t you think that’s a bit middle class, Cherie?” There was an awkward silence. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry!” she apologized. “How clumsy of me. I meant nothing personal.”

“No problem,” Peter assured her, brushing her remark aside. “It might be interesting to watch how someone else does it,” he agreed.

* * *

Well, well! Hildy mused. Lilli is finally showing her true colors. What a snob she is!

Zack merely smiled. Jay and Peter remained stone faced, but Jenny’s lips curled as she struggled to keep from laughing.

* * *

When Cammie
heard Mont Richard mentioned, her pulse picked up speed. That
was the town where Jeremy said he was going! Maybe
I’ll see him there, she thought, and her heart went
on a marathon. Then she kicked herself. I’m going to
marry Francois! Jeremy means nothing to me!

As soon as they finished breakfast, they all went out to the private limousine that the chauffeur had brought around to the courtyard, and were soon on their way to Mont Richard. All except Francois and his mother.

“It will be less crowded and more comfortable if we stay here,” Lilli explained.

Cammie was disappointed. “You’re not coming?” she asked Francois.

“No. You go ahead.” He winked, teasing her. “Mother and I have a big surprise for the wedding, and we need time alone to plan it.” She looked disappointed, and he put his arm around her. “If you knew about it ahead of time it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” he said.

* * *

They had gone only part way down the winding driveway leading away from the Chateau when Zack suddenly realized that this might be his only chance to look at that Bible. “If you don’t mind,” he told them, “I think I’ll go back and get some rest. I was up quite early this morning, and I could do with some extra shuteye.” He motioned to the chauffeur to stop and let him out.

“Are you all right?” Hildy asked him, concerned.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I have some clients back in California that I should check on. You’ll be back for lunch. See you then,” he said.

He turned and began his walk back to the Chateau.

CHAPTER XV
 

The ride to Mont Richard was leisurely, taking about an hour. The country roads were a little slower than the slick highways, but Fran told the chauffeur to take his time so the passengers could enjoy the scenery.

They soon reached Mont Richard. It looked much like any other small town. Tree-lined streets and quaint buildings graced the rural setting, and it almost seemed that they were back in Scarsdale, New York, except for the fact that the people spoke French instead of English.

The limousine stopped in the center of town where the passengers got out, ready to explore. Cammie headed straight for a gift shop nearby, trying to push aside her hopes of seeing Jeremy. I’ll buy a gift for Francois, she decided, trying to concentrate on him. As she started to enter the front door of the shop, Fran suddenly called to her. “Cammie!” he cried excitedly. “Come here!”

Cammie turned, not knowing what to expect, and walked briskly—a little too briskly, as it turned out. She bumped hard into Jeremy, who was standing just around the corner. His arms wrapped around her, again keeping her from falling. How natural it felt to be in his arms again!

* * *

Hildy rushed over. “Jeremy!” she exclaimed. “How nice to see you!”

Cammie tried to hide her delight at seeing him, but Hildy wasn’t fooled. With a mother’s instinct, she knew what was on her daughter’s mind.

Why can’t she be honest with herself and admit her feelings for him? she wondered. What is it about Francois that has her so mesmerized? Could it be that her youth can’t let go of what he’s dangling in front of her—all those jewels and the glamour of becoming a Countess? If she really loved him it wouldn’t make any difference if he were a Count or not. She’d love him, anyway. She’s so young, she mused. I guess she’s not to blame. But how can I make her see this? She’s obviously attracted to this nice young man, and he’s so perfect for her.

* * *

Jeremy reluctantly released Cammie. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she laughed. “Thanks again.”

It was then that she saw why Fran had called her. There on the side street was the filming he hoped to see. Maybe Lilli thought this was “middle class,” she mused, but the Count is really enjoying it. How nice he is! she thought. I’ll really enjoy being his daughter-in-law. He’s a really neat guy—not a snob like Lilli. And she decided then and there that she would never be snooty like her when she became a Countess.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Jeremy. “Are you in the film business?”

“No, I’m here on a much different matter.” He studied her for a moment. Then he smiled. “I haven’t told a soul about this. It’s strange. I feel as though I can trust you, and it’s so nice to be able to confide in someone.”

Cammie felt deeply honored. Careful! she warned, as she felt herself being pulled toward him like a magnet. You’re engaged to Francois.

“I’m here to speak to the producer of this picture,” Jeremy told her. “I was adopted when I was five years old. I can’t remember much about myself before then, but I think this producer may be able to help me.”

Cammie was curious. “You know him?”

“Oh, no,” Jeremy replied. “I saw a movie on my flight from New York to Paris, and—” he hesitated.

Cammie waited for him to continue. “And? What?”

“Well—let me start at the beginning,” he said. “I’ve been having dreams that keep repeating themselves—and flashes of memory. In one of these dreams, or flashes, I see a building made of stone. I’m sure it’s somewhere in France.”

Cammie was puzzled. “What do these dreams have to do with the movie?”

“The movie I saw—‘First Love’—” he answered, “showed in one of the scenes the building that I keep seeing in my dreams.”

Cammie was fascinated. Her sense of the drama was piqued.

“Now that I’ve actually
seen it,” Jeremy continued, “I know it’s not just my
imagination. It really exists. I think it’s a Chateau, but
I have no idea what town it’s in. Perhaps if
I went there it would jog my memory.”

Cammie listened with rapt attention.

“My adoptive parents didn’t tell me much about my background,” he went on, “but something they said led me to believe that I must have lived in France. I’ve never studied French, but I speak it fluently. Where did I learn it? There’s no other answer.”

“You remember the language since the time you were five?” she asked in amazement. “Isn’t that unusual?”

Jeremy’s eyes softened as he spoke fondly of the only parents he could remember. “When I was first adopted I couldn’t speak any English,” he told her. “The only way my adoptive parents could communicate with me was in French. They spoke it fluently. Eventually I learned to speak English. I had to when I went to school. Mom and Dad still spoke to me in French frequently. I think they wanted me to feel at home. They never explained it to me, so I’m guessing.” He looked wistful. “They’re dead now, so I can’t ask them. But I remember when I was maybe five years old—before I was adopted—talking to a man whose name I can’t recall. I’m sure we spoke in French.”