Royally Seduced - By Marie Donovan Page 0,47

into the study. “Bonjour, chérie.” He leaned over the desk and kissed her.

“Guess what, Jack?” She told him about her new writing job.

“I am not surprised at your success, Lily. Your sincere interest in my country comes through in your work.”

She took a deep breath. “The editor wants me to write about you, as well.”

“Me?” His eyebrows shot up. “But you have hardly mentioned me and you aren’t even using my real name.”

“She says American women are fascinated by Frenchmen and wants more detail about dating and romance in France. But I don’t want to put any of our own personal situation online,” she added hastily.

He rubbed his chin. “Dating and romance in France is much the same as anywhere else, but I’m sure you and I can think of something that editor might like. But again, I have to ask you not to post any photos that show my face.”

“I won’t,” she promised.

“What would you like to do this afternoon? Research French romance?”

Lily pressed her lips together and thought. The view out the window caught her eye again. “Get a tour of the manor house.”

He blinked in surprise.

“That is, if your friends don’t mind,” she amended, not wanting to be a bad guest.

“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Marthe-Louise would be delighted to show us around.”

“Great.” Lily shut down her computer and grabbed her camera. “Let’s go.”

DELIGHTED WAS AN understatement—the plump woman in her fifties was ecstatic to see Jack. If she’d been any younger, Lily would have been jealous. “Jacques, oh, mon petit Jacques!” She spotted them at the kitchen door and wiped her hands on her apron before dragging Jack inside.

“Marthe-Louise is the housekeeper here,” he called, as the older woman plastered his cheeks in teary kisses.

“She certainly remembers you fondly.”

He grinned ruefully and said something soothing to Marthe-Louise, patting her shoulder. “Okay, Marthe-Louise, this is Lily. Lily, this is Marthe-Louise.”

“Lee-Lee!” Marthe-Louise released Jack and seized Lily, kissing her vigorously twice on each cheek. She unleashed a torrent of excited French. “Ah, belle, belle, si belle!”

“She says you are very beautiful.”

Lily blushed and Marthe-Louise cooed and pinched her reddening cheek before asking Jack a question.

He nodded and replied at length. The housekeeper gave him an exasperated look but finally nodded her head.

“Merci.” Jack blew the older woman a kiss and she giggled. “She will give us a tour of the house but needs to straighten up a bit first.”

“Oh, okay.” The house looked immaculate, but there was probably a pile of mail here and a newspaper there that would take away from the manorial splendor.

The housekeeper darted out and returned in a couple minutes.

The house was impressive, with a huge salon and dining area for hosting large soirées, several sitting rooms, a giant library filled with books that Lily itched to read and a glass-enclosed conservatory, or orangerie, where they grew potted orange and lemon trees for fresh fruit during the winter.

It was a massive building, but with few personal touches and no family portraits. Probably those were upstairs in the living quarters, which weren’t part of the tour.

They returned to the kitchen, easily twice the size of the kitchen at the guesthouse. “Ongree?” Marthe-Louise asked.

“What?” Lily asked politely.

“You ongree?” she asked her.

“Oh, hungry.” Her stomach growled and they all laughed. “Yes, I am hungry.”

The housekeeper flew into action and quickly had a platter of crusty sliced bread with a variety of spreads in little ceramic pots.

Jack pointed to one pot and then the next. “Olive and dried figs for a sweet-and-salty mix, fresh tuna and olive, and chickpeas with cumin—a variation on hummus.”

“And pasta,” Marthe-Louise added. “Jack, he no tell moi he come. Bad, bad boy.” She retaliated by smacking his arm. “I cook now.”

Jack opened a cabinet and got out three wineglasses. He opened the under-counter wine refrigerator and pulled out a couple different bottles before settling on a white wine. He certainly was making himself at home in the manor house kitchen, and Lily glanced nervously at Marthe-Louise to make sure she didn’t think it was presumptuous.

Jack set the full glass next to the housekeeper’s elbow, and she thanked him, so it wasn’t a problem for her. Lily relaxed a bit, especially when he lifted his glass in a toast. “A votre santé. To your health.”

“And to yours.” He had lost the gaunt, pale look in his cheeks and this giant lunch would help fill out the rest of him. “Bon appétit.” He and Marthe-Louise smiled approvingly at her French.

Lily didn’t know if gorged

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