Grave Consequences (Grand Tour Series #2) (2 page)

“Ahh, yes. Venezia.” Hugh picked up his hand of cards again. “A fine place for romantic trysts.”

“Hugh,” Felix warned.

“Forgive me,” Hugh said, arching a brow, but with no trace of apology behind the words.

I sighed, rolled my eyes, and moved on toward the WC. As I reached the end of the car, the thick-necked, barrel-chested private detective, Yves, set aside his paper and rose, pulling aside the curtain that led to the tiny alcove. Feeling the heat of a blush rise up my neck, I looked into his small eyes. I knew he was only there to look after us, but did he intend to stand outside the WC door? What possible trouble could I encounter there? I ignored my impulse to protest, knowing this was a necessary evil if we were to continue on the Grand Tour. And after the events at Chateau Richelieu, I supposed it would be better to find comfort in the detectives’ presence rather than protest it.

Yves rapped on the WC door before me, paused, and then turned the knob. Two steps away, the train steward’s eyes widened. Yves glanced inside and, apparently mollified that no kidnapper lurked atop the sink, gestured inward. I entered and closed the door behind me, knowing before I saw myself in the mirror that a mortified blush now covered my face. But as I stared at my reflection I giggled. “Well, now you can say you’ve been escorted into a restroom, Cora,” I muttered to myself before beginning the complicated process of seeing to my business in frightfully tight quarters. I shuddered to think what the second-class cars’ WC might be like. While they could not be any smaller, they were likely more rustic.

Afterward, I filled the basin with a bit of water, splashing my face. I’d become accustomed to the noise and sway of the train, much as I’d found my sea legs aboard ship, but here in the WC, the clack of the wheels crossing sections of rails was much louder than anything upon the sea.

A knock at the door startled me. “Mademoiselle?”

“Oui?” I said, leaning close, using some of the little French I knew.

“Êtes-vous bien?”

Was he inquiring after me? Heavens! One would think I’d been in here for hours! Was there a time limit in French train bathrooms? “Oui, oui!” I called, hoping my tone said,
Leave me be.

I wiped my face with a soft, Egyptian cotton towel and set it to one side, knowing the steward would replace it after I left. Then I straightened my traveling suit’s periwinkle jacket and exited, barely glancing at Yves as I passed him. It was one thing to keep an eye on someone and another to invade their privacy. I’d have to speak to Will about just what was appropriate.

I made my way to my seat just as another steward flicked out a white linen cloth across the table I shared with Lil and Nell. They’d awakened and stretched luxuriously, blinking with wide-eyed anticipation for the pot of tea and delicate pastries awaiting us on the cart.

“That suit complements your eyes, Cora,” Lillian said, greedily reaching for the first pastry, a luscious-looking croissant filled with a berry jam.

“Thank you,” I said, as I took my seat. Again, I marveled at the idea of having more than a couple of dresses. Now I had trunks full of them.

Without asking, the steward poured each of us a cup of tea before moving on to the next table. I stirred a spoonful of sugar and some milk into mine and waited for Nell to choose her pastry before taking my own. I tore off a bite and slid it into my mouth, the delicate layers practically melting on my tongue. If there was one thing the French knew how to do exceedingly well, it was baking. Never in my life had I had such delicacies.

“So,” I said, taking a sip of my tea. “Pierre told me of his sister’s chateau. Would you like to hear about it?”

“Oh,” Lillian breathed. Then she clapped excitedly. “Yes, please.”

Nell nodded enthusiastically, her coils of hair bouncing.

“Apparently, the chateau sits directly upon the Rhône River, on the site of an ancient Roman castle. Its presence has long taunted its enemies across the water in Beaucaire, but, reportedly, people of both cities shared a fear of the Tarasque.”

Both girls stared at me with rounded eyes. “What is the Tarasque?” Nell asked, as if half afraid to know the answer.

I shook my head and pursed my lips as if vacillating in my decision about whether to tell them. I glanced at Vivian, and she gave me a small smile, already well versed in the game of older siblings.

“Please, Cora, tell us,” Lil pleaded.

“All right, then. I know you two are quite grown-up ladies. So promise me, if we go for a swim, you mustn’t fear the monster.”

Nell narrowed her eyes at me. “Monster,” she said flatly.

“Indeed. For many, many years, both those in Beaucaire and Tarascon feared the Tarasque, a river monster that ate both cattle and children.”

“Well, fortunately for us, we are neither cattle nor children,” Lil said primly.

“I’m sure you’re quite right,” I said, nodding and taking another sip of tea. The blond stranger passed by us then, and Vivian’s eyes met mine. How odd that he had been gone, all this time. Or had he slipped back in while I slept and left again? I consciously kept my gaze on my tea and croissant, never looking his way.

“Perhaps the old monster’s eyesight isn’t what it once was,” Felix said over his shoulder as he played a card.

“Yes,” Hugh said, joining in as he studied his hand. “I’ve heard tell that his teeth have fallen out and he simply gums his victims, breaking their bones until they’re a mushy mass he can swallow.”

“Ewww,” Nell said, wrinkling up her pert little nose. Then her eyebrows lifted. “Do either of you want that last pastry?”

I shook my head, as did Lil, and the round-faced girl eagerly scooped the pastry onto her plate.

“What else do you know of the chateau?” Lillian asked, tilting her head.

“It’s lovely and has survived through the ages, mostly as a prison. Pierre’s brother-in-law purchased it some time ago and restored it for his new bride. There is even a moat and drawbridge on the side that isn’t guarded by the river herself.”

“And both square and circular towers,” Will said, across the aisle. He gave me a gentle smile, nodding in obvious appreciation for my knowledge. “My uncle and I have admired it from afar in previous years but have never been inside. We very much look forward to the opportunity.”

“As do I,” I said, meeting his intense gaze.

His look made my breath catch in surprise. Because if I wasn’t mistaken, he wasn’t just talking about architecture and history.

Our hosts were not in their magnificent home when we arrived, but an attentive staff greeted us and showed us to our rooms, which were spread across two floors of the ancient castle. At first, this alarmed Will, but his uncle intervened, assuring him that we would be watched over by the detectives on guard in the hallways through the night. My heart pounded when I found I was one of only two downstairs, fearing I’d once again been relegated to lesser quarters since I was only half Kensington, but when the butler opened the door for me, my heart slowed to a quieter, yet bigger
ka-thump
as I looked around.

“The castle was once, uh, how you say…prison,” said the butler soberly, in halting English laced with a thick French accent. A thin smile grew across his lips. “But zee mistress of zee house has a way with making one thing into another. Her brother asked that you be given this suite.”

“I should say she is quite gifted,” I muttered, gazing open-mouthed at gothic arches rising in one dome after another above me in the L-shaped suite. I chose to ignore his revelation that Pierre had thought to assign me this room. I had no idea what the other rooms looked like, but I knew this was indeed special. One window looked out along the length of the Rhône River. A small balcony led to a private alcove directly above the water. On the far end, in the en suite bathroom that held a huge, claw-footed tub, was another window that showcased miles of rolling farmland.

“Merci,”
I breathed as three stewards and Anna arrived with my trunks and valises.

“But of course, mademoiselle,” the tall, thin man said with a genteel nod. His keen eyes studied me a moment longer, and I wondered if he knew who I was…or rather, who I was to Pierre. I detected nothing but idle, bemused interest in him, even as he reluctantly turned and headed toward the door. Yet given the way he’d spoken of Pierre, he struck me as a servant who had known him for a good, long while. “If there is nothing else, mademoiselle?”

“No, thank you. I will be quite content.”

“Very well. I shall send down a tray of refreshments. Dinner shall be served at eight o’clock.” He gestured upward, apparently forgetting the English word for
upstairs
. He turned to go, thought better of it, and turned back to me. “While you shall be dining out-of-doors, you might wish to dress as if you are dining in the formal dining room, with eh…As it becomes, eh, later, it can be…” He rubbed his upper arms, as if cold.

“Chilly,” I said, supplying his missing word. “I’ll need a wrap. Thank you.”

He gave me another faint smile and left, then. Anna and I shared a look. “Servants’ quarters in one castle, a queen’s in another,” she said, lifting a trunk lid and shaking out an icy-blue gown. “I was thinking you might wish to wear this tonight, miss. It has that smart lace jacket that matches so well.”

“That’s fine,” I said, going to the French doors and slipping out onto the balcony. I brought a hand to my mouth. The platform was about eight feet long and only a couple of feet deep, with a roof, one of only two on this level, the only variations in the smooth, straight stone wall. Clearly, the balconies were later additions to a side of the castle that had been meant to be impossible to scale. The ancient wall rose straight from the water below, to a height of perhaps thirty or forty feet. Here and there bits of grass and moss sprouted between the gray stones, but she looked as sturdy as she had likely looked when she was built.

Down below, the river moved past slowly, a luxurious flow of liquid green.

“Miss Cora?” Anna said. “Do you wish for me to turn down your bed? Would you care to take a rest before supper?”

“Indeed,” I said, reluctantly turning back and peeling off my gloves, feeling the weight of our long train journey. I left the door open, liking the scent of the water and fresh air. “And perhaps a bath afterward?”

“Of course,” she said, going behind me to help me out of a jacket that clung to my arms, then unbuttoning the gown beneath. As it slipped away, I breathed a sigh of relief. A knock at the door revealed a steward carrying a silver tray laden with grapes, apples, a wedge of cheese, a hunk of bread, and a pitcher with two glasses. Anna set it on a small table. “Would you like me to pour you—”

“No, no, Anna,” I said, slipping under the incredibly soft sheets and fluffy down-filled cover. “You must be as weary as I am. Please. You’ve done enough. Go and take your own nap, if you wish. Just be sure I rise in time to get ready. Otherwise, I’m liable to sleep through the night in this haven.”

She shook me awake a couple of hours later. I bathed and dressed, and Anna put up my hair in a clever twist, adding progressive sections of hair until it wreathed my head. “Where did you learn to do that?” I asked, turning one way and then the other in the mirror.

“A maid on the train showed us,” she said, obviously pleased that I was pleased. She tucked a small ivory-colored feather on a comb into the folds of my hair and patted my shoulders. “You’ll be the prettiest on the porch,” she said proudly.

I smiled at her praise and rose to follow her to the bed, where she’d laid out my lace jacket. “It’ll hardly keep me warm with all those holes,” I said as she slid it over my shoulders. “It’s more for show.”

“Pish,” she said. “France has lovely, warm evenings, even this close to the water. You’ll be fine. I’ll check in on you in an hour or so. Give me the signal, and I’ll fetch you another wrap if necessary.”

“Thank you, Anna.”

“Of course,” she said, staring at me as I hesitated.

I looked down. I was wringing my gloved hands.

“Miss?”

“It’s Pierre’s
sister
,” I whispered.

“Ahh. She’ll be as delightful as m’lord, no doubt. Go in with your head held high. Give her no corner to push you around. You are her guest. And her brother is smitten with you. That will either raise her ire or make you immediate kin. Either way, you’ll win her over, I know it.”