Arms wide, Pierre flew across the wide entrance hall to the door, as if there was nothing in her way, not a silk-covered chaise longue, not a large welcome table with a vase of flowers, and not six meters of marble floor. In an instant, she was in Millie’s arms hugging her fiercely.
And Millie was hugging her back just as hard. “I’ve missed you all so much. How is everyone?” She pulled back to look at Pierre’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Pierre wiped away tears. “We missed you so much.” Stupid tears kept coming. “You look so, so… dark.”
And she was. Millie had always had a naturally warm colouring, but now she had a deeper tan and glowed with health.
“It’s summer in South Africa,” George said from behind her. He too looked like he’d spent weeks on a beach. Moving around them, he dragged in luggage and duty-free bags which Evans helped unload from the carriage.
“What’s all this?” She had seen them leave with two small suitcases each.
“We went a little crazy.” Millie grinned.
“Very crazy, you mean.” George laughed and his glance went round the hall where everyone had come out of the kitchen, excited to greet the couple.
“I don’t think we left any ostrich feathers in Cape Town,” Millie agreed.
“Or Kalahari salt or Zulu pillows or braai spices.” George’s arm curled around Millie’s waist as they exchanged a shining, happy look.
“Miss Summers,” Nicole’s smooth voice sliced into the moment. “And Mr Du Montfort. Welcome home.”
Where hadshematerialised from?
She offered them her hand in a formal shake. Not content with ruining the moment, she then hovered while everyone else clustered around the couple, making it clear she had business to discuss. And like every spectre at a feast, her presence kept everyone from enjoying themselves too much.
When it was clear she wasn’t going anywhere, Pierre left them and went to the office. There she managed to apply her new mental discipline to start writing the article Lord M wanted. And she didn’t think about anyone else, least of all the one person she wasn’t allowed to think about.
Unfortunately, when she went down to the kitchen to make herself a sandwich, Gabriel was in the kitchen, chatting with Cook.
“You missed lunch,” Cook reprimanded her.
“I’m busy.”
“What’s the matter with everyone today?” Cook asked. “They were all excited about George and Millie’s return, but now they’re all tiptoeing around like they’re carrying a tray of drinks, afraid to spill.”
Guilt,Pierre thought darkly. Knowing there was something important being kept secret from the very people who should know it. Everyone loved Millie and George and it would be eating them up inside not to be able to be honest with them.
Gabriel met her gaze. So much understanding in his eyes, she wished she could hug him, cry on his shoulder, feel his arms around her.
“Did you find the drive with your photographs?” Pierre asked him, for something to say. Also, mentioning work would hopefully break the moment. She kept her back to him as she sliced cold meats to make a sandwich, but she could feel his eyes on her before he spoke.
“Do you want me to bring it now?”
“Yes, please.”
He got up and walked out of the kitchen.
“Where’s Nicole?” Pierre asked in a half-whisper to Cook.
“She’s stuck to Millie and George, even followed them right to the doors of Lord M’s study. Then waited just outside in the gallery, pacing like she had ants crawling up her legs. In the end, Millie, bless her heart, put the woman out of her misery and went with her to discuss wedding arrangements.”
“You’re very informed for someone who never leaves her kitchen.” Pierre spooned coleslaw over the sliced chicken.
“I hope you’ve left room for dinner. I’m not going to all this trouble if everyone is going to fill up on bread beforehand.”
“What are you making?”
“Goose in cherry sauce, roasties, Yorkshires, and stuffing balls. Then, spiced cherry royal with kirsch ice cream for afters.”
