Diffused lightning heralded the distant roar of the storm. The weather outside might be clearing, but the one inside was far from over.
“And what secret is that?” Andre’s tone remained calm, even as the beads of perspiration peppered his brow line. Did she know something or was it just a bluff?
“That you didn’t tell her about the conditions under which you’d inherit your late uncle’s fortune when you married her.”
Shit. Would she really tell Tasha? And if so, why? What good would it do her if he stepped aside? “Why is it so important to you that I relinquish my claim?” Then it hit him. Cecily. Cecily was also the name of his distant cousin who would inherit if he did not meet the terms of the will. Andre glanced at the windows, rain splatters and fog on them made it hard to see outside. He looked back at the woman who’d just tried to blackmail him. “You’re Cecily Garceau.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“You’re a bright one,” she said pointedly. “Since yours is not an arranged marriage, I believe you’ll want to keep your wife over the inheritance.”
“Well, Cecily…” He stepped toward her and reached for her arm. “You’re right.” He latched onto her elbow, tightly, and guided her toward the door. “At least about the part about me wanting to keep my wife.”
Andre directed her into the hallway and stopped. Still holding onto Cecily, he fished his cell out of his pocket and hit number two on the speed dial. Simon had been relegated to number two after Andre met Tasha, before that he was number one.
Simon answered immediately. “Yes, sir.”
“Simon, I’m on the first floor, heading to the garage. Come at once, and bring George and William with you,” he instructed. “And speak of this to no one.” Andre looked at the phone and said, “hurry,” before disconnecting the call.
“What are you doing?” Cecily tried to twist out of Andre’s hold. He tightened his grip. She ordered, “Let go of me.”
“Not a chance.” He shook his head.
“I demand that you release me.”
“You will be released once you’re outside the gates of Pacifique de Lumière.” Now that he knew who she was, it gave Andre great pleasure to remove her from the estate. How dare she try to blackmail him?
“Now?” Fear darkened her cold gray eyes. “You’re evicting me now?”
“You catch on fast.” He threw her own line back at her.
“But I live in the caretaker’s cottage.”
“You did.”
“What about my things?”
“Leave an address with Simon. Your belongings will be delivered to you within the week.”
“What about my husband?”
“Please, take him with you.”
“But he’s at work. He won’t be home until the evening.”
“Then you’d better call him.” Andre nodded. “If either of you come to the gates of Pacifique de Lumière, you will be arrested.”
“For what?”
“Don’t worry.” He winked. “We’ll think of something.”
Simon, George and William rounded the corner. Andre handed Cecily off to his valet. “Remove her from the premises. Take her to Marseilles and drop her off at a local hotel. If she has no prospects, put her in one of our properties. The main thing…” Andre perched his finger in the air. “Neither she nor her husband are ever to set foot on the grounds of Pacifique de Lumière again.”
The rain had stopped and the storm had moved on, but the evidence was still there. Everything outside was wet and a few ominous clouds still hung in the sky. Andre took it as a sign to proceed with caution where Cecily was concerned. One word from her and his whole world could collapse.
He put off his trip into Marseilles, opting instead to go into the east salon and have a drink to calm himself. He needed to find Julian or Camille right away and let them know that he’d fired their nanny.
Once on the second floor he found the salon empty. Good. He charged to the bar on the other side of the room. The nerve of that woman. He latched onto a bottle of scotch and yanked off the stopper. He poured himself a generous three fingers and reattached the bottle’s plug.
He’d have to find a way to make sure Cecily didn’t get to Tasha. Perhaps they should take a trip, leave Marseilles for a while. He kicked back the scotch. The liquid warmed him all the way to his gut.
“Andre…” Camille’s voice came up behind him. He peered over his shoulder, setting down the glass. When their eyes met, she said, “Have you seen Cecily?”
Andre swallowed around the knot budding in his throat. Firing Julian and Camille’s nanny was one thing, gaining their approval for it was another. He pointed to the bar, “You’d better have a drink.”
“Uh oh.” She cut him a sideways glance and reached for the door. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like this.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to hate it.”
Camille closed the door. “Maybe you’d better tell me what you know,” she said, moving toward him.
Andre killed time by pouring her a drink. He offered the glass and she took it, but didn’t take even a sip. She just stood there waiting for him to tell her what was going on.
He poured himself another drink and downed it. The glass made a clicking sound when he set it down on the bar. He looked at her. “I fired your nanny.”
Camille’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“It had to be done.”
“What do you mean it had to be done?” She’d found her voice again, and it was demanding answers.
“Her name is Cecily Garceau Mason.”
Andre could practically see the wheels turning inside Camille’s head. She was trying to figure out where she’d heard that name.
“She was at Edouard Renault’s funeral.” He nodded. “She and her brother will inherit the entire Renault fortune if I fail to meet the terms of the will.”
“But that’s a moot point. You are married.”
“She knows…somehow she found out that Tasha doesn’t know I have to be married for one year to inherit.” Andre cleared his throat. “Cecily threatened to tell her if I don’t relinquish my claim on the Renault fortune.”
Camille’s eyebrows shot up. “Is she gone?” There was an immediacy in her tone now. She went to the couch and sat down. After a brief interval of silence, she looked up at Andre. “We have to get that woman off this property.”