“A little over seven years ago.”
“Hmm, that long ago... I will ask my assistant to look through the archives for that name. If you would just give me a moment.” He pressed a bell, and it rang somewhere inside the building. The same clerk returned and Monsieur Dubois gave him instructions to search, after which he diligently left to begin his search.
“It might take Mr. Peterson a while to find the file, if indeed we have a record of that. May I offer some refreshments while we wait?”
Dale accepted, mainly to have something to do while they waited and to talk to Dubois some more. The man seemed honest and open. Unlike Mrs Rossington, he didn’t seem to be trying to hide anything. Maybe there really was no mystery to unveil, and Ninette was simply corresponding with him on a business matter unrelated to his late wife. But since they were already here, they might as well see it through. Mr Dubois didn’t seem inconvenienced by their presence. He appeared quite pleased to host such distinguished guests.
So they settled in to have tea. Mr Dubois was all too happy to talk about himself and his business. He mainly dedicated himself to selling properties in France to English buyers. He obviously considered Dale a potential client; because he continuously extolled the virtues of chateaus surrounded by vineyards and holiday mansions by the sea.
Dale listened with only mild interest. He wouldn’t be averse to buying a property on the beach. Especially now with Livvy, he could quite imagine spending romantic holidays, only the two of them. They would bath in the sea during the day and make passionate love at night. Oh, yes, the idea appealed in various ways and deserved more consideration. But for now, he wanted whatever information this man could provide so they could go on with their day. He quite looked forward to sharing the sights of London with Livvy. She had such unabated enthusiasm and joie de vivre that it was infectious, and it prompted him to view the city he had known his entire life in a whole new light.
After several minutes, the clerk returned with a folder and handed it to his employer. “Here is the record you are looking for, Monsieur. Will there be anything else?”
“No, thank you Peterson. You may return to your duties.”
The young man nodded and left, closing the door softly behind him.
Monsieur Dubois opened the file and sifted through the papers. After a moment, he grunted in recognition.
“I remember this client now. The young lady is French. She was looking for a property in Provence. But she didn’t want it close to the sea, as most people who seek a property in this area do. She wanted a house deep in the countryside.”
“What kind of property was she interested in?” Dale asked, his curiosity piqued.
“It took a while to find exactly the right property, for she was very specific about what she wanted. But we finally found a beautiful farmhouse with a lovely piece of land that was near a town for convenience, yet secluded enough for privacy. Not too big or small. The strangest thing was that she bought it sight unseen. As soon as I described the property—and I sent her some prints of the house—she decided she wanted it and completed the transaction.”
“Indeed? And how much does a property like this cost?”
The amount given by the agent made Dale raise his brow. It was a small fortune. How could a maid afford that? Extremely interesting. And why would Ninette want to buy property in France? Had she planned to move there? He had always thought her quite devoted to Eloise, had thought she would never leave her employ, but... maybe he had been wrong. Maybe she had yearned to return to her country. Or... the house could be for retirement.
But where had she gotten the money to buy the property? He needed to find out more. Something wasn’t adding up. He needed answers, and he might find them in Ninette. Now all he needed was to find the address of the property and pay her a visit.
“Monsieur Dubois. Could you provide me the address to this property?”
Dubois’ eyes widened with apprehension. “Your Grace. I don’t know if I can. I may have already revealed too much information. My clients expect me to maintain confidentiality.”
“I understand that, Monsieur, and I have the utmost admiration for your professionalism. But is this information really confidential? I could probably get her address by some other means, but it would take longer and considerably more effort. Besides, I mean her no harm. All the opposite. It recently came to my attention that my late wife had left her a bequest. I am searching for her to make sure she receives it.”
“In that case, and being that she didn’t specifically ask me to keep her location secret...”
In the end, they left Dubois’ offices with the property address. Plus the directions on how to get there and recommendations for which inns to stay during the trip and once they arrived there. The agent had proved to be a veritable fount of knowledge.
“So, what do you make of this information? I honestly didn’t find it very useful. It is just a property purchase.” Olivia said, shrugging.
“On the contrary, my dear. This information is very useful. Just as I thought, the price for a property like that would be far out of reach for a simple maid. Someone must have helped her purchase it, and I’m sure the reason will prove very interesting indeed.”
“Really? So this wasn’t a complete waste of time. What do you plan to do now?”
“Pay Ninette a visit, of course. I hear the south of France is lovely this time of year. Fancy a trip to Provence?”
Olivia smiled widely. “But of course! I love the south of France. I visited Cannes once. It was a very brief visit. I was on a cruise and was only there for a day, but I remember thinking that I had to come back and spend some days exploring Provence... Sorry, I am babbling. It’s just that I love to travel and get really excited when I’m going to cool places.”
Dale smiled indulgently. He didn’t mind at all if she babbled. In fact, he loved her enthusiasm. It was one thing he loved about her. Seeing her happy and excited had become his greatest pleasure in life; only surpassed by sharing that excitement with her during lovemaking. He should tell her that. Instead, he said simply, “I don’t mind your enthusiasm at all. Although I’m not sure about the cool part. Unless the climate has changed radically in the future, Provence is quite warm.”
Olivia laughed out loud. “I don’t mean cool weather wise. It is an expression we use in my time. It means different things, depending on the context, usually good things. In this case, I meant beautiful, enchanting, very special.”
“I see. Can I say you are ‘cool’ then?”
She laughed again. “It doesn’t have quite the same connotation when applied to a person. In that case, it means something like relaxed, fun, trustworthy. A person who’s a pleasure to be around.”
