Free Lost heritage by Rebecca Stratton Page A

too distant, table. *I suppose it isn't any of my business, is it? But I quite like Madame Lizette—I feel sorry for her.'
    From Jean's expression it was clear that he saw no more to Lizette than the drab and rather silly woman she showed herself as. Maybe he even thought she deserved to be made a fool of by her more extrovert husband. 'I cannot imagine why he married her,' he said frankly as he helped himself to Mother olive. 'Although she was possibly a pretty woman once behind that—that dreary facade, but she has faded.'
    It was a cruel assessment and Charlotte wished she could deny it with some degree of conviction. 'She must have been very pretty,' she insisted. 'It still shows sometimes.'
    'Hmm.' Jean munched the olive thoughtfully. 'There is a story that a very long time ago she was involved in some kind of scandal. I cannot imagine it, not Madame Lizette.
    Madame Menais, now ' He smiled and rolled his eyes
    wickedly. 'But one never knows, eh?'

    *What kind of a scandal?' Charlotte could not resist the question and she found it very much harder not to look at Michel Menais while she waited for Jean to enlighten her.
    *It is said that Madame Lizette once had a lover,' he told her with exaggerated relish, then laughed and shrugged his shoulders as if he found the rumour unlikely personally. *I find that very difficult to imagine.'
    Charlotte was frowning, her mind busy with possibilities that were never more than vague suspicions, and she shrugged carelessly after a-few seconds. *I don't think it's likely,' she said, but still wondered if it was as unlikely as both she and Jean declared it to be.
    *Likely—unlikely,' Jean said with a hint of impatience as he reached for her hand. *I do not propose spending the evening with a very pretty girl talking about our employer's wife. We have better things to do with our evening, eh, Charlotte? Some more wine, perhaps?'
    *Oh no, no, this is fine, thanks!'
    She placed her hand over her half-full glass and shook her head, but just for a second her eyes strayed once more across the sofdy lit restaurant to where Michel Menais sat holding the hand of Annette Villeaux, and she wondered.
    Last night had been fun, even though Charlotte had been momentarily distracted from her enjoyment by seeing Michel Menais and his secretary dining together. The situation had been brought home to her more sharply when she returned a litde after midnight and found Lizette in tears. She had claimed a headache and Charlotte had given her tablets to help it, but it made the fact of Michel and Annette Villeaux even more unacceptable.
    The next morning Raoul had asked that she should see him in his office, and in the circumstances she felt very reluctant to meet him again. Last night had possibly been a mistake on both their parts, for he had, she guessed, spoken

    without thinking, and she had risen to the bait much as she always did, much too easily. He could check her references easily enough and prove his theory wrong, and possibly he had done so by now, but just the same she did not look forward to being closeted alone with him again this morning.
    When she opened the office door, however, it was not Raoul she found there but Annette Villeaux. She seemed to be alone and stood by the desk they shared, gathering up a handful of envelopes for posting, and Charlotte looked at her curiously from just inside the door, in two minds whether or not to leave again.
    It was unusual for her to acknowledge her, but in this instance Annette Villeaux turned her gleaming dark eyes on her and half-smiled. 'Bonjour, mademoiselle,^ she said, and the greeting suggested a challenge as she came across the room on long slim legs that had none of the difficulty coping with high heels that poor Lizette did. 'Monsieur Raoul is absent for a moment, he will return within a minute.*
    So far all Charlotte*s attempts to be friendly had met with a determined off-handedness, but this morning with RaouPs message to impart she