Audrey cuts straight to business. “Monsieur de Bellay, can you tell us about the exits, safe rooms, and other security features of the main building? Better still, can you show them to me?”
“Please, call me Henri,” he replies.
Then he tells us about the exits and fire safety measures. I listen with half an ear and gaze up at the château. It’s like being transported straight into a seventeenth-century idyll of rural Périgord, which is the old name of the region. The façade, a happy marriage of luminous cream stone and climbing vines, blends rustic charm with an undeniable elegance of lines and proportions. Intricate stonework frames each window and the shapely towers and turrets have steeply pitched slate roofs.
There’s something sweetly romantic about Château de Bellay, no doubt due to the soft sunlight, the lush green of the vines, and the pretty horse weather vane perched atop the central tower. It spins joyfully in the breeze like a sentinel overlooking the estate.
“We don’t have a proper panic room,” Henri is saying as I tune in again. “But my grandpa had had a cellar converted into a safe room with an armored door and a secure lock to house his finest wines.”
Audrey’s rapid eye movements mirror her brain analyzing the options. “I can work with that.”
“Looks like the search team is already at it,” I comment, pointing toward a couple of small drones buzzing in the distance.
Henri follows my gaze. “They started yesterday morning. They’ve covered half the estate so far. Unfortunately, no key has turned up yet. But I’m in awe of their equipment, all those infrared cameras, metal detectors, ground-penetrating radars… If the key is here, I’m sure they’ll find it.”
I wish I shared your confidence!“They’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“They’ll find it,” Henri repeats. “Tonight, they’ll finish the grounds and outbuildings, and tomorrow morning they’ll start on the main building.” He points at the entrance at the top of the stairs. “I have a feeling it’s somewhere in there.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He tilts his head to one side. “Would you like a quick tour of the château, or do you prefer to see the search team first?”
“Where would I have a better chance of a glass of cold water?”
He climbs the first step. “Follow me!”
We walk in through the unpretentious main entrance, and Henri leads us straight to the kitchen. It’s an inviting space that smells of fresh herbs and combines well-preserved historic features such as exposed wooden beams, a stone hearth, and an antique ceramic sink with the latest culinary technology. An impressive collection of copper pots and pans covers almost anentire wall alongside stainless steel skillets of varying sizes and depths.
A short round woman, stands at the stove, stirring what looks like tomato sauce. Her salt-and-pepper hair is pulled back into a low no-nonsense bun. She looks so… homemade, so unlike the royal palace’s sleek chefs, that Audrey and I exchange an amused look.
The woman adds a pinch of salt to her pot and turns around.
Audrey and I say hello.
“Meet Odile,” Henri introduces her. “She was the soul of my grandmother’s household, and now of mine. Odile, this is Eugénie, and that’s Audrey.”
We exchange customary civilities.
“Please call me Gigi,” I add, surprising myself.
“Are you ladies with the search team that’s turning the estate upside down?” Odile asks with a strong local accent and equally strong annoyance coloring her voice.
“I’m afraid so,” I reply. “But I promise we’ll put everything back exactly as it was.”
“You better,” she mutters before raising her voice back to normal. “Will you be staying for dinner?”
I shake my head. “But we’ll stop by again tomorrow and the day after, and then we’ll stay on for the retreat.”
“Oh, are you travel bloggers?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.
“I’ve published several travel guides,” I inform her.
Audrey feigns excitement. “And I’m just starting out!”
Odile nods. “Well, run along now, I’ve prepared some refreshments in the sunroom.”
“That sounds wonderful, Odile,” Henri says. “But could I trouble you for a glass of water first?”
