Free Tower of Shadows by Sara Craven

attract
    visitors, and sell more wine.'
    'Most of our wine is exported, and our sales are satisfactory at the
    moment,' Rohan said curtly. 'And attracting visitors has not been a
    priority of the chateau for a very long time. Not since my uncle's
    accident, in fact.'
    'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I didn't know—although the Maison du Vin in
    Bergerac did warn there were no tours of the vineyard because the
    Baron wasn't well.'
    'The Baron's general health is excellent,' he corrected her.
    'However, he damaged his spine over twenty years ago, after being
    thrown from his horse, and has been in a wheelchair ever since.'
    He paused. 'It has made him — over-sensitive to the presence of
    strangers, perhaps.'
    Sabine swallowed. 'The de Rocheforts seem to have suffered a lot
    of misfortune.'
    'Not the least being the fact that the line ends with my uncle. Even
    before his accident it seemed doubtful that my aunt would ever
    have a child of her own. Afterwards, it was impossible.'
    'But they have Antoinette,' she ventured, remembering what
    Marie-Christine had told her.
    'Indeed they have.' Face and voice gave nothing away. 'I'd hoped,
    too, they might have a little peace,' he added more pointedly.
    In other words, without my disruptive influence, Sabine thought
    wryly, turning her attention to the minstrel's gallery. 'That's
    beautiful,' she remarked, rather too brightly. 'Is it still used?'
    'On occasion —say, if we have a big wine-tasting for overseas
    buyers. Or when the chateau is en fete, on Tante Heloise's
    birthday, for example. Even my uncle puts in one of his rare public
    appearances then.' He paused. 'The next time, I suppose, will be
    the wedding.'
    So it's true, Sabine thought. He is going to marry Antoinette. She
    remembered the beautiful, sullen face and the sensual movement
    of the other girl's body in the yellow dress, and an odd pang
    assailed her, piercing her to the heart with its intensity.
    She cleared her throat. 'Will —will the wedding be soon?'
    He nodded, almost casually. 'In a few weeks.'
    By which time, I'll be gone, she thought, then, fiercely, And I'm
    glad I'll be gone.
    Because, it occurred to her with heart-stopping suddenness, the last
    thing in the world she wanted was to be around when Rohan Saint
    Yves married Antoinette — or anyone else.

CHAPTER FIVE
    'Is SOMETHING the matter?' Rohan's voice seemed to reach Sabine
    from a great distance. 'You're very pale.'
    'I'm fine.' She found a voice from somewhere. 'It's very hot today.
    I'm just not used to it yet. . .' She made herself smile. 'Maybe some
    wine will do me good.'
    'Very well.'
    Sabine watched as Rohan chose a bottle and poured some of its
    contents into a glass. 'Try this.' He held it out to her. 'It's the '89
    vintage.'
    She took it, thankful that her hand wasn't trembling noticeably.
    Her knees seemed to have turned to water, her mind still reeling
    under the impact of the devastating revelation which had just come
    to her.
    It's not possible, she thought. It's complete madness. This is the
    first time he's even been remotely civil to me, for God's sake. . .
    She pulled herself together with an effort, trying to remember what
    she'd been told about wine-tasting, holding the glass carefully by
    the stem, and sniffing delicately.
    'Bravo!' Rohan said satirically. 'What does that tell you?'
    'Not a lot,' she admitted.
    'Well, at least you are honest about that,' he remarked, and, in spite
    of her new-found feelings, Sabine was sorely tempted to throw the
    wine in his face. 'Now drink some, but don't swallow it at once.
    Hold it in your mouth and think about it.'
    Sabine obeyed, wrinkling her brow in concentration.
    'You look fierce.' He sounded almost amused. 'Is it that bad?'
    'Not at all,' she said, swallowing.
    'Can you still taste the wine?'
    'Yes,' she said, rather doubtfully.
    'Don't sound so worried,' he advised drily. 'It's a young wine, not
    really up to drinking yet. You're not supposed to experience a great
    deal.' He picked up