Lost heritage by Rebecca Stratton Read Free Book Online Page B

told herself, to behave as he was doing, but until she was more sure of just how all-powerful he was in the scheme of things she could not afford to risk his anger too far.

    It was slightly more than the allotted ten minutes when she crossed the hall, her heels clicking angrily on the gleaming stone floor. Her watch showed five minutes past six, but it was just possible that her escort had not yet arrived and she glanced only briefly at Raoul Menais's office door before she went over to the double doors and eased them apart slighdy to look outside.
    'Mademoiselle!'
    She turned back swifdy when she was called and closed the doors in such haste that they banged together. He said nothing more but turned and went back into his office leaving her to follow, and probably never doubting that she would. Obedient but resentful, she walked into the room after him and took a second to look around her.
    It could have changed litde with its transformation into an office, for the white paint and flashing gilt curlicues were as prolific here as in the salon. A tall slim window at one end let in the evening light and gave a view of the chestnut trees that lined the approach road. It was a lovely room, even now that it was furnished with dark, businesslike office furniture, and in other circumstances Charlotte would have enjoyed working there.
    Raoul Menais stood at a large polished desk over near the window, sorting through some papers, and even the movement of his long brown fingers suggested impatience. He glanced up and indicated another, slighdy smaller desk the other side of the window widi a nod of his head, still sorting while he spoke.
    Tlease sit down over there, mademoiselle. A telephone call has made it necessary to make certain alterations, but I wiU not keep you for very long.'
    Even the secretarial desk was much superior to anything she had used before and Charlotte sat down at it experimentally. She was in her own element at a typewriter, she told herself, so she had no need to feel nervous, but it was

    rather disconcerting to find that the typing chair was too high for her to reach the floor and her feet swung unsupported above the shiny board floor.
    *So!* It starded her to find him at her elbow suddenly and he frowned, almost inevitably, she realised. *Could you not have found a notebook and pen and been ready to begin, mademoiselle^ since you are so anxious to have done with the task?'
    *Oh yes, I suppose I could; Fm sorry.* She sought hastily for the requisite tools and then tried to sit with her legs crossed and rest the notebook on her knee while she took dictation, as she usually did. In this instance, however, it was impossible and she put down the notebook while she slid off the chair to adjust it. *It*s too high,' she explained, *I can't reach the floor, but it'll only take a minute to put it right.'
    He said something in French which meant nothing to her, but which brought a swift flood of colour to her cheeks because she suspected its meaning and resented it. *Let me I' He brushed her aside impatiendy and spun the chair round with his big hands until it was a good three inches lower, then stood back. *Now try it!' he instructed.
    Obediendy Charlotte sat down again. *Thank you,' she told him in a deceptively meek voice. *That's better.'
    *Now—may we proceed?'
    Chin high, she looked up into his face, dark and shadowed as he stood with his back to the light. She felt she was endded to know whether or not her date had arrived, and if he had, what he had said about her breaking their date. *rm just wondering if Monsieur Cordet came,' she said, shghdy breathless at her own bravado, and the frown on that dark strong face lowered at her.
    *You are sufficiendy aware of your own dttracdons, mademoiselle^' he said, 'to know that M(»isieur Cordet came for you.'

    *You saw him? You didn't ask him to wait and have a word with me?'
    *I informed him of the position and apologised,' Raoul told her, coolly impersonal. *You