Never Leave Me by Margaret Pemberton Read Free Book Online

‘Major Meyer is not my major, Paul Gilles! And my father is utterly trustworthy. I would stake my life on him!’
    A wry smile touched Paul’s thin lips. ‘By taking him into our confidence we will all be staking our lives on him,’ he said drily.
    Her flare of fury subsided. What he said was true. She was reacting with her heart again, and not her head. She pushed her hands deep into the pockets of her coat and stared out of the open door of the café. On the far side of the tree-lined square a German soldier lounged arrogantly astride his motorcycle. The two elderly women had parted company and were carrying their shopping home. Madame Pichon was hurrying off in the direction of the Telliers where young Madame Tellier was about to give birth yet again.
    She had waited for over a week to see Paul, confident that when she did so he would tell her what must be done. And now that he had, she was rejecting his advice, confident that she knew best. That she and her father did not need his help. That all they needed was for any information they obtained to be ferried to the Allies through safe channels. She sighed and pushed a silk-dark strand of hair away from her face. Paul was right. Neither she nor her father were experts at espionage. Her one attempt had been shamefully bungled and she had no way of knowing if any attempt her father made would meet with any greater success. An expert was needed, and it was up to her to give Paul all the support he needed.
    She drew her eyes away from the distant German and the sunlit square and back once more to Paul. ‘What is it that you want me to do, Paul?’ she asked, gracefully conceding defeat.
    Paul grinned. His sexuality was so low key that it scarcely ever troubled him. Yet he had long ago fallen under Lisette’s spell. Her directness and honesty beguiled him, as did the long sweep of her lashes against the pale perfection of her skin. If he thought for one moment that she regarded him as anything but an older brother, he would have had no hesitation in putting his bachelor days behind him.
    His grin faded. It was fortunate that Lisette regarded him with only sisterly affection. Comte Henri de Valmy would not regard a village schoolmaster as a suitable choice of a husband for his only daughter. He shrugged the dream aside and said in a practical vein, ‘Is Marie the only help you have at Valmy?’
    She nodded.
    â€˜Who does the cooking?’
    â€˜Maman.’
    Paul tried not to show his surprise. It had not occurred to him that the ice-cool, elegant Comtesse was familiar with her own kitchen.
    â€˜Then tonight when your father joins the Major for a cognac, he must say that your mother’s health is not robust and that the occupation of her home has taken its toll. That with the Major’s permission he would like to employ a niece of Marie’s as a temporary cook.’
    â€˜Has Marie any nieces?’ she asked, raising a sleek eyebrow quizzically.
    Paul laughed. ‘She has now. Don’t worry about questions being asked of Marie, or of anyone else. That is my concern. Just make sure that your father lays the groundwork well.’
    â€˜And when Marie’s “niece” arrives?’ Lisette asked, rising to her feet.
    â€˜Say nothing to her. She has come from Caen to cook. Treat her as a cook.’
    Lisette hesitated, a slight frown still puckering her brows, her hair falling forward in two glossy wings at either side of her face as she looked down at him. ‘And if an opportunity should present itself that only I or my father can take advantage of?’
    His thin, bony face looked suddenly old for his years. ‘Take it,’ he said briefly. ‘Goodbye, Lisette, and good luck.’
    She walked outside into the chill sunlight, wheeling her bicycle on to the cobbled road, her earlier optimism dissipated. The moment Marie’s so-called niece entered Valmy, all their lives would be at risk. Not