She could evict Jason from the whole area if the mood took her, refuse them permission to use her buildings, complain to the Ministry of Culture, who oversaw marine archaeology, and the whole expedition, insane as it was, would be over. They were only here because she allowed it. If Madame du Lac decided this was all over, it would be. It would break her brother’s heart.
Not to mention her money was funding them. And now Jason needed even more to keep going.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,madame.’
‘Ah,’ the old woman laughed. ‘If only you knew who I was.’
Ari couldn’t help but smile in return. It wasn’t often you met someone so rich with any degree of self-deprecatory humour. ‘I have to presume you’re funding my brother’s explorations here.’
Madame du Lac raised a slender hand, bearing rings that looked both ancient and priceless, and waved it regally. ‘Brava. Although, more properly, our foundation funds him. I am merely the board member who lives closest. In the Manoir. For my sins.’
‘What sins could you possibly have,madame?’ Jason said smoothly.
She laughed that same youthful laugh. The very sound made Ari grin before she could stop herself. ‘Far too many to confess to a boy like you, Jason Walker. It would turn your hair white.’
Nico arrived from the kitchen with a glass of something that looked like wine on first glance, but had that syrupy aspect which suggested something altogether more lethal. Lambig, probably, the distilled liquor made locally, sometimes calledeau de vie– the water of life.
‘Yec’hed mat,’ the old woman said.
Cheers, one of the few phrases of Breton Ari knew because Simon had tried to teach her, and saying cheers was his first step.
Madame du Lac sipped her drink delicately and then set it down on the table beside her. ‘A finegwinardant,’ she said with some satisfaction when she saw Ari watching her. ‘The best. It’s made just up the road. Bernez Heussaff makes it himself and has done for fifty years, his father before him, all of them for generations. I have a taste for it, a hereditary thing. It flows easily, warms the blood. Young Nicolas always finds the best producers in the area for all products, don’t you? Old Bernez doesn’t give up his treasures easily, not even to my household.’
Nico smiled at her with genuine affection. ‘I bribe him. Speaking of which, I have some cake fresh out of the oven.’
‘Oh now, you will get me into trouble. My family say I do not eat properly. I indulge myself too much. Can you imagine?’
Ari couldn’t. The woman looked like a bird.
‘Lemon cake,’ Nico teased and Madame du Lac shook her head, holding up her hands in defeat.
‘You are a demon, Nicolas.’
They were interrupted by the sound of a car engine, tyres tearing up the dirt drive, and Ari caught Jason’s frown.
‘Ah,’ Madame du Lac sighed as if the weight of the world suddenly sat upon her shoulders. ‘Pa gomzer eus ar bleiz, Emañ e lost e-kreiz.’ She muttered the phrase and took a larger sup of hergwinardant.
‘I don’t understand,’ Ari said.
‘An old proverb. Let me see, it translates as “Talk of the wolf, its tail appears”. Or in English you might say “Speak of the devil…”’
She finished the glass decisively, and with relish.
‘Mémé?’ The voice from outside sounded not just angry and frustrated, but worried as well. ‘Es-tu lá?’
More rapid French ensued as Nico shot out to the door, his tone at once both placating and reassuring. But his magic didn’t work. Not this time. The man who burst into the house wasn’t in the mood to listen to anyone. Jason took a step back and so did Ari. She couldn’t help herself.
Not so Madame du Lac. She fixed a withering glare on the newcomer, but that didn’t deter him, not for an instant. He spoke far too quickly for Ari to keep up with, but she got the gist.
What were you thinking just taking off like that? I’ve been worried sick. How did you get here? What are you doing? Who are these people anyway?
The old woman drew in a breath and let it out slowly. ‘This one, the one with no manners at all, is my great-nephew, Rafael. Rafi, this is Dr Walker, come all the way from Oxford to help us. I came to say hello and—’
The man turned to Jason, enraged, ignoring Ari completely and immediately making that one fatal mistake people always made. The worst one. The most infuriating thing anyone could do, as far as she was concerned. ‘I don’t know what you’re playing at, or what kind of doctor you pretend—’
‘I’mDr Walker,’ Ari interrupted pointedly but firmly. It didn’t matter if she barely used the title now. It was still hers. She had earned it. She might teach history now rather than unearth it, but still… ‘It’s archaeology and we arenot“playing” at it.’
‘And I am not quite so old as to need her expertise just yet,’ his great-aunt cut in, grinning wickedly, delighted to see him caught out in such a spectacular way.
