“Father, we have been through this many times before. If you want to hand over the seigneurship, by all means, find a man you like and hand it on to him. I am not taking it.”
“You don’t know what you want, George.”
“Because I don’t want to play Lord of the Manor in some outmoded relic of ElizabethanEngland?”
His father threw his head back and laughed. “Then you should have let me remarry and produce another heir, shouldn’t you?”
A sequence of unsuitable Barbie dolls and fortune hunters flashed across George’s mind before he dismissed the image.Return to business. Don’t let him distract you.George picked up the files and placed them on his lap.
“It’s comical. You must see that you’ve scored an ‘own goal’ my boy.” His father tried to distract him again. “I’m glad you are still my only heir.”
“About the accounts here—”
“Even if you are a selfish son of a bitch, you’restill my—”
The stack of papers fell from George’s lap to the ground as he rose to his feet. The words died on his father’s lips as he looked backat George.
“Never, ever, for the rest of your days,” George said through clenched jaws, “not even as a joke, never speak of my mother this way.” He turned and marched across the lawn, leaving his father alone with files and papers scattered on the stones and grass around him.
Millie walked back towards the white rose garden with Liam, the physiotherapist. The garden was round a bend, screened from the house by the weeping willow trees behind the lily pool. She couldn’t see, but she hoped the business talkwas over.
Just then, George walked towards her as if he were ready to commit murder.
Blimey, he can’t know how frightening he looks. I feel sorry for his office staff if they ever makea mistake.
As he came close to her, he eyed the rolled-up yoga mats under her arm as if they were smuggled explosives.
She found herself explaining before realizing he hadn’t asked. “They are for your father. It’s time for his Pilates.” She indicated Liam, who had his arms full of air cushions and exerciseequipment.
“My father?” George stopped. “Pilates? Since when?”
Liam must have also felt the disapproval coming off George in waves. “For about a month now, twice a week,” he said. “The other days we just do general exercises to loosen his limbs.”
George looked at both of themsilently.
Millie gave the rolled-up mats to Liam. “You’d better get on. I’ll see you after.”
She remained standing in front of George, enduring his eyes on her.Whatever happened to the nice laughing man from the hilltop yesterdayafternoon?
Finally as if coming to a decision, he asked her, “I’d like to talk to you about my father’s care. Are you free tomorrowevening?”
“What time? I usually help out with Mr Du Montfort’s dinner—”
“The staff can handle it.”
She swallowed. “Actually, I think it’s better if I am there. Just to make sure all goes well.” He could glare all he liked, but he wasn’t going to frighten her into changing her work routine.
George observed her for a moment. “All right. After my father has finished dinner. I’ll meet you at Brasserie Pascale at nine.” He looked at the line of the trees. “It’ll be dark. I’ll ask Evans to bring you.” He turned to go, then turned back. “You know Evans, don’t you?”
“Yes, the horse—er—yes, Iknow him.”
“Good.” And hewas gone.
Millie realized she’d been holding her breath and blew it out. I can’t believe I was dreaming about kissing him. She turned to go back to the house and find Mrs B.
Kitchen
“No, he’s nothing like his dad,” Nurse Ann said. She was sorting different pills into a seven-day medicationorganizer.
