Her Own Rules (12 page)

For a moment there was no response from Patsy, then she said, “No, you never have. Not in this life, at any rate. However, maybe you were there in another.

In the past…in a past life. Do you believe in reincarn-ation?”

“I don’t know.” Meredith shook her head. “To say I don’t believe sounds so arrogant…” She shrugged, looking suddenly baffled. “Who knows anything really about this strange world we live in.”

“Perhaps you saw a movie—a documentary about Yorkshire that featured the abbey. Perhaps that’s why it’s so familiar to you,” Patsy suggested.

“I don’t think so. And how do you explain that peculiar sense of loss I experienced?”

Patsy said, “I can’t.”

Her Own Rules / 119

A young waitress came in with the tray of tea; the two women fell silent.

Once they were alone again, Patsy remarked quietly, staring closely at Meredith, “You were pretty excited last night…I mean about buying Skell Garth House. I hope your odd experience this morning hasn’t made you change your mind.”

“No, it hasn’t, Patsy. Quite the contrary. It’s obvious that Fountains Abbey is meaningful, although I don’t quite understand why. Still, I see that as a good omen for the future. Anyway, I like the inn. You were right about it.” She gave her partner a warm smile. “It’s a little gem in its own way, and certainly it’s got a lot more going for it than Heronside. Too many cushions
indeed
. Skell Garth is quaint and charming, and it has a great atmosphere, is loaded with comfort. Of course, it’s a bit shabby, but it doesn’t need any big money spent on it.”

“All Skell Garth House needs, in my opinion, is a good decorating job. And you’re the best person to do it, Meredith.”

Meredith nodded, but made no comment.

Patsy lifted her cup of tea. “Here’s to our new inn, then. May it be ever prosperous.”

“To Skell Garth House.”

CHAPTER TEN

L
uc de Montboucher looked from Agnes D’Auberville to Meredith and said, “You must allow six months at least for the remodeling. To cut the time down to four months will only mean disaster.”

Agnes said, “We’d hoped to have the inn open by the summer—”

“That is not possible!” he exclaimed, cutting in swiftly. “There’s too much to do, and some of the work is major, such as the architectural changes you want.

And which are necessary, I might add. Then there’s new wiring, plumbing, windows, and floors. Most of the walls have to be replastered and sanded.” He lifted his hands in a typically Gallic gesture, and finished,

“To be honest, Agnes…Meredith…six months is going to be a tough schedule for the contractor, please let me alert you

Her Own Rules / 121

to that fact right now. I sincerely hope he can keep to it.”

“But the Manoir de la Closière is not such a large house,” Agnes remarked, and turned to Meredith.

“You’ve now been there twice this week, what’s your opinion?”

It was Friday. The three of them were having lunch in the Relais Plaza of the Plaza Athénée hotel in Paris, having spent the morning going over ideas for the transformation of the old house.

Now Meredith put down her fork and returned her French partner’s penetrating look. “You’re right, Agnes, inasmuch as it’s not a huge house, but it is in terrible disrepair, in much worse shape than the château was.

I happen to think Luc is correct. And I doubt very much that we can get the remodeling finished in less time than he suggests. In fact, I believe it’s a bit foolhardy to allow only six months.” Glancing at Luc, she asked, “Don’t you think it would be wiser to settle for eight?”

Before he had a chance to answer, Agnes exclaimed somewhat heatedly, “But we remodeled and redecorated Château de Cormeron in a year! And that’s a much bigger place.”

“I know. However, the manor house at Montfort-L’Amaury hasn’t been so well cared for,” Meredith pointed out. “I think it’s unfair of us to expect Luc to work with unrealistic time schedules. He’s right, we’re only going to end up with a disaster.”

Agnes was silent.

Luc nodded, gave Meredith the benefit of a 122 / Barbara Taylor Bradford

warm smile. “Thank you for understanding my problems.”

Meredith liked him. He was an attractive man, with a great deal of continental charm, yet sincere.

“When
would
we open the inn then?” Agnes asked.

“I think it will have to be next spring…the spring of 1996. I don’t believe we have any other alternative.

Luc’s pretty clear in his mind about what we want, and he will soon know what’s feasible. I suppose he could start the work in a month from now. Am I correct, Luc?”

“You are. I will complete my plans for your approval as quickly as possible. If you like them and give me the go-ahead, I can have the contractor in there by the end of January. He can start demolition of some of the interiors. And if there are no unforeseen problems, we should be able to finish by June. I will endeavor to complete the job in six months, not eight, as you suggested. Thank you for offering those extra two months; however, I don’t think we’ll be needing them.”

Meredith said, “That’s good to know.” Addressing Agnes, she continued. “As soon as the contractor is finished, we can bring in the other trades…the painters, paperhangers, et cetera, and they will be finished in four months quite easily. Starting next week, you and I can begin to create the decorative schemes.”

“Well, all right,” Agnes murmured, “If you think it’s going to take a whole year, then it will.” She laughed, suddenly relaxing, and shrugged. “I Her Own Rules / 123

must admit, you’re rarely wrong when it comes to a remodeling job.” Digging her fork into a piece of fish, she concluded, “The problem with me is that I’m overanxious. I can’t wait to get the new inn running properly and open to the public.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Meredith responded. “But if we try to do it at breakneck speed, it’s asking for trouble.”

“I’m glad we’re all agreed,” Luc said. “And let me just add that the manor is charming, and has endless possibilities, especially since the grounds are also so pleasant. I think you’ve made a good choice.”

“Thanks to you, Agnes,” Meredith said. “You spotted the house.”

Looking pleased, her nervousness about the schedule now abating completely, Agnes took a long swallow of white wine. “Then it’s settled. Luc will get the plans done quickly and once they’re ready he can send them on an overnight to New York. Now—” She paused, reached out, and squeezed Meredith’s arm. “What are
your
plans for the weekend?”

“Nothing special, really. I thought I’d take it easy, do a little shopping, and maybe go to the Marché aux Puces on Sunday. But please don’t worry about me, Agnes, I know you’ve got your hands full.”

Agnes grimaced. “I’m afraid I do, with Alain and Chloe both down with the flu. Thank God I haven’t caught it from them.”

“I’m sorry they’re not well, and you mustn’t fuss about me, I’ll be all right on my own this weekend.”

Luc lifted his glass, drank a little of his wine, and 124 / Barbara Taylor Bradford

sat back in his chair, scrutinizing Meredith across the luncheon table. Eventually he said, “If you really don’t have anything special to do this weekend, I would like to invite you to my house in the country. I’m leaving tomorrow morning; we could drive there together, and I would bring you back to Paris early on Monday.”

“That’s so nice of you, Luc,” Meredith murmured and hesitated. “I don’t know…I don’t want to im-pose…”

“But you’re not imposing, I invited you. And I would
like
you to come. It’s not going to be a very fancy weekend with lots of guests, if that’s what is worrying you. In fact, I must warn you, we will be there alone and you might find that boring. Although the coun-tryside is beautiful, and perhaps you would enjoy it.”

“Well, thank you…” Meredith began and stopped, still uncertain.

Agnes looked from one to the other and jumped in, saying swiftly, “Luc has the most charming old house.

In the Loire. It’s really unique, Meredith, you’ll love it. You
must
go for the weekend.”

“Yes, do please come, Meredith,” Luc insisted.

“All right, then, I will,” Meredith said, suddenly making up her mind. “And again, thank you very much for inviting me.”

After lunch Agnes and Meredith walked back to the Havens offices which were located in a narrow street off the Rue de Rivoli.

Her Own Rules / 125

“I’ve been collecting fabrics and wallpapers for the past few weeks,” Agnes explained once they were en-sconced in her cluttered private domain.

Flopping down onto a sofa, she dragged two large shopping bags toward her and said, “Come on, Meredith, sit here next to me and we’ll go through some of these. I thought it would be a good idea to have something on hand, so we can start formulating our decorative schemes well in advance.”

“You must have scoured the whole of Paris,”

Meredith laughed, joining her, plunging her hands into one of the shopping bags. “I’ve never seen so many samples.” She took out a blue-and-red fabric and stared at it. “I like this…it looks like a Manuel Canovas…oh yes, so it is.”

“He’s very eligible, you know,” Agnes said, also delving into one of the bags.

“Who? Manuel Canovas? I thought he was married.”

“No, not Manuel Canovas.
Luc de Montboucher
.

That’s who I’m talking about.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you say
oh
like that? In that surprised tone?”

“Are you trying to be a matchmaker, Agnes?”

“Not really.” Agnes laughed. “It hadn’t really crossed my mind until he invited you for the weekend. Then it suddenly hit me…he’s attractive, successful, and, most important, single.”

“Divorced?”

“No, I don’t think he’s been married.” Agnes 126 / Barbara Taylor Bradford

frowned and bit her lip. “No, wait a moment…perhaps he
was
married and she died. I can’t remember. He’s a friend of Alain’s, I’ll have to double-check that.”

“How old do you think he is? About forty?”

“I think he’s a bit older than that, if I remember correctly. About forty-three perhaps. I’ll ask Alain when I get home tonight and I’ll call you at the hotel.”

Meredith laughed, shook her head. “He’s only asked me to go to his house for the weekend, he hasn’t proposed marriage.”

“I know, on the other hand, my dear Meredith, I believe he’s rather taken with you. I’ve noticed him looking at you over the past few days, and looking at you with great interest, I would like to add. In that certain way.”

“What do you mean by
certain way
?”

“With curiosity. It’s perfectly obvious he wants to get to know you better. Do you like him?”

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have accepted his invitation to go to the Loire with him.”

“He is a very talented architect. But you know that from the examples of his work he showed you at his office yesterday. We’ve been lucky to get him for this job. And as I said, he’s very eligible, which is most important.”

“The way you spoke, you must know his house,”

Meredith murmured, changing the subject.

“Yes, Alain and I have been there a couple of times.

In the summer…never at this time of year.

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But it’s a lovely old place. Between Talcy and Menars.”

“Where’s that in relation to our inn?”

“It’s higher up, just up beyond Blois, closer to Or-léans than Cormeron. Do you remember that time Alain and I took you to Chambord?”

Meredith nodded.

“Well, Chambord is in a direct line to Talcy across the river Loire.”

“I think I know where you mean. What kind of house is it?”

“Big…Clos-Talcy has been in his family for hundreds of years. It’s been well looked after, kept in good repair. I think Luc goes there most weekends; it’s only a few hours drive, closer to Paris than Cormeron.”

“I’m glad I brought some country clothes,” Meredith said, now suddenly wondering what she had let herself in for this weekend.

“Oh you don’t have to worry, I think he lives quite casually,” Agnes remarked, and handed her a swatch of fabric. “Do you like this?”

Meredith examined it and nodded. “You know I love red toile de Jouy. It would work well with black furniture or black accessories.”

“Luc really was looking at you in that certain way,
chérie
,” Agnes remarked, eyeing Meredith. “I’m not inventing that.”

“I believe you,” Meredith answered, and began to laugh, amused by Agnes and her romantic notions.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

H
er first sight of Clos-Talcy was of a double image—the house itself and its reflection in the large ornamental lake in front of it.

“Oh how beautiful!” Meredith cried when Luc de Montboucher walked her around the bend in the driveway and directed her attention across the lake, pointing out the house in the distance.

“I wanted you to see it from here, not from the car,”

he said. “This view surprises everyone, and I must explain to you that it’s one of my own special favorites…it’s the reflection, of course, that intrigues me.”

“What a perfect house in a perfect setting,” Meredith murmured, almost to herself. She stood next to Luc, surveying the great château with interest. It was built of pink brick and pale stone, topped with a roof of dark gray slate. There were a number Her Own Rules / 129

of tall, slender chimneys rising up from the roof, and she counted thirty-eight windows and five dormers.

The many tall trees surrounding the château were reflected in the lake, along with the facade of the house itself. To Meredith, there was a marvelous symmetry to the two in combination. Certainly it was the loveliest initial view of any house she had ever seen.

Turning to Luc, she asked, “How old is the château?”

“It was built in the early seventeenth century, and the gardens were designed about fifty years later by Le Nôtre, the famous landscape artist of the time.”

Taking hold of her arm, he continued. “But come, let us go back to the car. Later, after lunch, I’ll drive you around the park, and we can go for a walk in the gardens if you would like. I must warn you, though, they are rather bereft looking at this time of year.”