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“If the trailer fails the inspection, it’ll be retired.” His gaze travels from my box to the stain on the ceiling. “You’ll receive one thousand euros as compensation, that’s it.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Read section 15 on page 8 of your rental agreement.”
I snarl, my hands clenching into fists. “Is this blackmail?”
“See you tomorrow, Mademoiselle Mussey.” He opens the door and steps out.
“It’s you who’s behind that inspection nonsense!” I yell to his back. “I hope your ass never recovers from my chair’s squeeze!”
He shuts the door on me.
I open the window. “I hope you develop an itchy butt rash, you scheming, manipulative, royal douchebag!”
CHAPTER6
CAMILLE
Islept on Louis’s proposal. That is to say, I didn’t sleep at all, and spent the night sitting up in my bed, pacing the trailer, and thinking. After a while, I managed to set my hurt pride and the marquess’s arrogance aside and approach the matter rationally like a logic problem in my favorite book.
His deal has a lot going for it: the dispensation from sexual relations with the snooty Louis, 300 grand when we divorce, and a “get out of Mount Evor jail free card” with the promise of spending most of the next year in the City of Light.
It means I’d never have to live in an RV park or be a charity case again. But, above all, marrying Louis gives me the unhoped-for opportunity to investigate what really happened the night of the palace fire.
My life’s goal is to vindicate Jeannette. How could I not recognize this deal as a sign, a benevolent nod from the universe? Living among the principality’s high aristocracy would involve visits to the royal palace where I could snoop around and have access to the royals, the courtiers, the servants, and perhaps even the police bosses and security.
What with me being Louis’s wife and a marchioness, they wouldn’t be able to just turn their backs and walk away. They’d have to talk to me, no matter how briefly. I may be able to glean precious nuggets or find the end of a thread to pull on. The country may be in for a huge surprise when they see where that thread leads.
To turn my back on an opportunity like this would be foolish. No, it would be unpardonable.
So, when Louis and his sidekicks showed up this morning, I said yes.
And now I’m being driven to Falcon’s Nest. Some of my paltry belongings are in the trunk of Louis’s large car, while the rest were ditched. The car is a Bentley something or other. The friendly chauffeur, Rudy, gave me the full name but I’ve already forgotten. He entertained us by raving about the car’s amazing drivability and ridability for forty-five minutes at least. I was grateful for that. But then he ran out of praise to lavish on the car, or maybe he chose to focus on the driving. The trip became rougher due to the endless turns as we crossed the mountains between the Pombrio valley and Arrago.
Next to Rudy in the front passenger seat is Louis’s PA, Angie. Good-looking, and just a few years older than me, she wears her hair smoothed back into a high ponytail. Her slim frame is clad in an impeccable suit with a pencil skirt. She hasn’t said much so far.
Louis and I occupy the buttery-soft back seats, all supple leather and lots of legroom. Our seats are separated by a fold-down armrest with a polished-wood tray, cupholders, and a bunch of mysterious controls.
Louis points out one of them. “You can reduce the temperature if you’re uncomfortable.”
From the way he eyed my layered sweaters, he probably assumes I’m too warm. He’s wrong. Being oversensitive to the cold, it takes the scorching August heat to make me too warm.
“I’m good, thank you,” I say.
“Would you like to watch a movie?” he asks, pointing at the screen mounted to the back of Angie’s seat.
I shake my head.
He touches another knob. “This one launches the massage functionality.”
As if to illustrate his statement, he turns on his own and leans back into the vibration, eyes half-closed.
“Still sore around the posterior?” I ask him with feigned concern. “That gap in my chair pinched you hard, huh?”
In the rearview mirror, Rudy smothers a smile. Angie looks displeased.
Ignoring my remark, Louis shuts his eyes fully.
