The conversation became inaudible for a few minutes. Pierre assumed things were calming down when Gabriel’s voice came clearer as if he’d moved closer to the window. “Would you have taken any notice of me if you’d just seen me as a taxi driver?”
“It was different then,” Nicole answered. She sounded calmer, as if his reasonable tone had soothed her anger. “We were both poor, starting out. But we can’t stay in that life. We have a real chance to make it big now, and you have to surround yourself with winners. If you want to be taken seriously as a top-drawer business, then you have to act like a top-drawer professional.”
“Nic, are you sure you want that life?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
If Gabriel answered, Pierre couldn’t hear it. There was longer pause before Nicole continued, sounding very upset.
“Whatever it costs. I’ll make a success of this wedding even though George Du Montfort is marrying a waitress. A waitress!” Nicole made an odd sound like a bitter laugh.
Pierre had never heard the woman be anything but sweet and silky smooth; she never, ever lost her temper.
Gabriel spoke with more heat. “Why is this upsetting you so much? This is what worries me, you’re getting too…”
Pierre couldn’t make out the rest, but Nicole’s answer, when it came, was loud.
“It’s even making His Lordship sick. Can you imagine? His only son, the most eligible aristocrat in the country, who could have had his pick of society girls, and who does he choose? A divorced, penniless nobody. I bet she’s a gold digger.”
“You can’t know that. And don’t be in a rush to assume things about other people’s relationships. What would people think if they saw us?”
“They’d see two successful people headed for a better life, or theywouldsee that if you stopped hanging around with staff. They’ll be all too happy to turn on me if I let them. I can’t get too familiar if I want to maintain any kind of professional authority.”
“To hell with authority.” Gabriel sounded angry for the first time. “Nic, we can still have a happy life without turning into the new Bloomberg empire. Remember how excited we used to get over each new job no matter how small? I worry that you’re taking on too much, and it’s changing you.”
Pierre dragged an extra pillow and plonked it on top of her head to block out the words. She herself felt emotional and more than a little angry. Millie was not a waitress. And no one who knew her could think her a gold digger plotting with the rest of the staff to marry the boss’s son.
When she lifted the cushion off her head twenty minutes later, she could still hear voices, but she couldn’t make out what was being said.
If her memory of arguments with her ex were anything to go by, quarrels were usually followed by making up, and she really, really didn’t want to hear that.
Throwing the covers off her, she jumped out of bed and went in search of her phone and earbuds. She needed music to block out any other sound. Something loud and bouncy.
Unfortunately, something loud and bouncy didn’t help her sleep.
Her notes on Anglo-Saxon marriage laws lay on the sofa where she had dropped them that afternoon. Deciding she was too wide awake to fall asleep any time soon, she went back for her duvet and pillow and arranged herself on the sofa to listen to another podcast from Professor Stephen Goodson.
Goodson was excellent at putting people to sleep. When Pierre woke up, she had a crick in her neck. Everything was quiet, which was hardly surprising since it was five in the morning.
Half-an-hour later, down in the kitchen, she found Cook rolling pastry. One of the wood-top counters had a large basket of woodland mushrooms, probably picked yesterday. There was also a brace of pheasants in one of the sinks.
“Do you ever sleep?” Pierre asked.
“None of us did last night.” Nurse Ann spoke, startling Pierre. Both the nurse and Liam the physiotherapist were at the table along with Doctor Adam.
For a hallucinatory instant, Pierre thought they had been kept awake by loud lovemaking from Nicole’s bedroom.
“Lord M had a very bad night,” Liam explained. “I really don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s complaining of back pain, but I can’t find anything wrong with his back.”
“Referred pain from somewhere else,” Adam said. “My guess would be abdominal, but he won’t let me get him to a hospital for proper tests.”
“How’s he now?” A knot of worry tightened in the pit of Pierre’s stomach.
“Adam gave him an injection to help him sleep so that helped.” Nurse Ann poured tea in a clean cup and pushed it towards Pierre. “You may as well join us.”
“Have you been up all night? Even after the injection?” Pierre asked, sitting down and accepting the milk jug from Liam.
“He only agreed to the injection half-an-hour ago, although Adam kept trying to persuade him all night.”
