Alphonse, to be fair, had the grace to look a little shame-faced and might have even apologised, if Fliss hadn’t stuck her nose in the air and tossed her hair over her shoulder. ‘It’s true the peasants are revolting.’
Hattie would have said they were one-all, at that stage, except that Alphonse had to have the last word. ‘It’s better than being a stuck-up bitch.’ Even the heavily accented pronunciation of ‘beetch’ didn’t soften the insult. Solange entered the kitchen at that moment and gave her son a sharp clip around the ear.
‘Alphonse, apologise to her, this minute.’
He gave his mother a mutinous glare and then turned to Fliss. ‘I beg your pardon.’
Fliss, who wasn’t the least bit magnanimous, tilted her nose again and with a gloating smile said, ‘Apology accepted,’ before adding darkly, ‘Although if you’ve ruined my soufflé I might have to kill you.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I hope Yvette will be on time. Those soufflés need to come out in five minutes, although I can’t guarantee they won’t have deflated, thanks to our friend here.’ Her mouth twisted in distaste and Alphonse glared back at her. Hattie wanted to laugh at them, although she had noticed that he seemed fascinated by Fliss because every time she looked away he covertly watched her.
Right on cue, Yvette came bursting through the patio doors.
‘You’re new,’ she said, catching sight of Fliss.
‘Yvette!’ her mother chided gently. ‘This is Fliss, she is here to help Hattie.’
‘Great, another one,’ muttered Yvette in French, and although it took Hattie a second to translate, her displeasure was obvious.
However, quick as a flash, Fliss retorted, ‘Great, another rude one,’ before turning to Solange and saying more kindly, ‘Your children did not inherit your manners.’
‘No,’ snapped Solange, ‘it would appear they did not.’ She cast both Yvette and Alphonse the classic I’m-so-disappointed look. Alphonse kissed his mother on the cheek, apologising. Then he turned to Fliss and took her hand, dwarfing her slim white fingers between his huge hands. ‘I am sorry,mademoiselle. I’ve had a terrible day but I should not have taken it out on you and been rude.’ He bowed his head and it was utterly charming. Fliss, clearly taken aback, blinked up at him and didn’t say a word. It was the first time Hattie had seen her struck dumb.
‘Ah, happy families,’ said a familiar voice. Hattie turned to find Marine dressed in another stunning dress, this one a little more formal than its predecessor. ‘Good evening, everyone.’
‘Hi, Marine. You look ravishing,’ said Yvette, rising to give her a kiss on each cheek. ‘I’m not sure Luc is ready yet. He must still be doing his hair.’
Hattie frowned and couldn’t stop the ‘Luc?’ that escaped from her mouth.
‘Yes,’ said Yvette giving her a brilliant smile. ‘It’s theComité Champagneannual dinner. A very important date on the calendar, especially for Luc this year when he is representing the St Martin house for the first time. Marine’s father is on the executive board.’
A movement in the doorway caught Hattie’s attention. Luc looked utterly breathtaking, dressed in a smart black suit, a crisp white shirt and a black bow tie. The butterflies that initially soared at the sight of him promptly shrivelled and plummeted.
She felt a complete idiot.
‘Ah, there you are,’ said Marine, immediately snaking an arm round his waist and posing slightly as if she knew the picture the pair of them made – possibly the best-looking couple on the planet. ‘Shall we go? Our driver is waiting.’
Luc nodded and Hattie could see he was trying to catch her eye but she wasn’t having any of it. She was embarrassed. Now she understood exactly what he meant by not taking life too seriously and having some fun.
‘Have fun,’ said Yvette, almost as if she’d read Hattie’s mind. Hattie dredged up a smile and directed it his way without actually looking at him. She felt sick.
‘Au revoir,’ chorused Alphonse, Solange and Fliss.
The glamorous pair departed and Hattie took a large sip of wine, not quite draining the glass, although she wanted to.
ChapterEighteen
‘My soufflés!’ Fliss jumped up and disappeared into the kitchen. Alphonse watched her go. ‘I’ll see if she needs any help,’ he said before ambling after her.
From the kitchen door they heard her say, ‘If I needed help, I’d ask for it.’
‘Poor Alphonse, I don’t think she likes him very much,’ said Yvette with a snarky grin.
Solange put her hand on her daughter’s arm, shaking her head gently.
Hattie, who’d been doing her best to join in the conversation and pretend everything was fine ever since they’d come out to sit on the patio, lifted her glass. ‘Thank you, Solange. The ballroom looks absolutely wonderful. I shall take lots of photos tomorrow morning to send to my cousin.’
There was the subtlest of changes in the atmosphere, as Yvette’s head swivelled sharply to look at her mother. Solange withdrew her hand, folding her arms across her chest.
‘Quoi!’ Her hazel eyes flashed. ‘Maman?’
