‘What?’ asked Fliss.
‘Google.’ She typed in a quick question, ‘What does mouse poo look like?’ and studied the answer and resulting images. ‘Of course. I am so stupid and she is a sneaky cow. She only filled the ballroom with flipping rabbit poo to try and convince me we had a mouse infestation.’
‘Eeuw,’ said Fliss, scrunching her eyes up in disgust. ‘That’s disgusting. Talk about taking things to extremes. Why the hell would she do that?’
Hattie shook her head.
‘What about Luc?’
‘He tried to tell me the other day that it’s something to do with tradition but he didn’t really seem to know either.’
Fliss’s eyes gleamed with sudden devilry. ‘Why don’t we ask Solange? A pincer movement. I bet the two of us could break her.’
ChapterFifteen
‘You’re up, excellent,’ said Luc, striding towards Hattie as she hit the bottom step, almost as if he’d been lying in wait for her. The sight of him in a crisp white cotton button-down shirt and navy shorts, with that big smile on his face, made her heart dance.
‘How are you feeling?’
There it was, that ability to make her think she was the only person in the world worth his interest.
‘Much better for having a day in bed, thank you.’
He gave her shirt, cropped jeans and white trainers a quick approving once-over, which for some reason struck her as odd.
‘I thought you liked my dungarees,’ she said.
‘I do. But that outfit is perfect for what I have in mind for today. It’s a glorious morning.’
Before she could ask any questions, he’d tucked his hand into her arm and steered her across the marble floor and through the front door.
He was quite right, it was indeed a glorious morning. There were a few translucent candy-floss clouds in the brilliant blue sky and the bright sun already felt warm on her face. It was the sort of day that made you want to play hooky.
‘Why don’t we go for a drive?’
‘A drive?’ She felt like she was in the wrong scene in a play.
He was already ushering her towards the car.
‘But I’ve got a ton of stuff to do and I’ve just taken a whole day off.’
‘Humour me,’ he said.
Fliss appeared on the doorstep with Hattie’s handbag and a sweater. ‘You might want these.’
‘What’s going on?’ asked Hattie, looking from one to the other.
‘Go,’ said Fliss, shooing her with both hands. ‘Have a nice time.’
Feeling a little bemused, Hattie did as she was told, strapping herself into the passenger seat. ‘Are you going to tell me where we’re going?’
‘Not yet. First we’ll stop in the village for coffee and croissants. I’m starving.’
As they drove down the drive they passed a group of women walking up towards the château.
‘Is it busy on the vines at the moment?’ Hattie asked assuming they must be working on the vineyard.
‘So-so. There’s always something to do. But it’s quiet at the moment. It gets busier at the end of July when we have to manage the crop. There’s a fine balance between having a high yield with lots of grapes and fewer grapes but much better quality. We have to measure the sugar levels in the grapes to determine when we’ll harvest.’
