Lost heritage by Rebecca Stratton

flicked her dark eyes briefly m Charlotte's direction, dien inclined her head meekly to Raoul as she turned to go. 'Merci, monsieur* And strutting elegandy on ±ose ridiculously high heels she walked out of the room.

    *Well, mademoiselle}'
    His deep quiet voice goaded her to a response and Charlotte raised her eyes, looking at him as steadily as she felt able to for the pulsing urgency of her heartbeat. *rm sorry you came in when you did, Monsieur Raoul/ she began, but was allowed to go no further.
    *I have no doubt of it!' he retorted swifdy. *I am interested to learn by what right you consider yourself qualified to make such statements about one of your employers in a voice that you seemed not to care could be heard beyond the confines of this office!'
    Charlotte stared at him in dismay, the tip of her tongue flicking anxiously across dry lips as she glanced at the door. 'You could hear out there in the hall?' she asked, and he nodded, his mouth tight.
    *I heard your words quite clearly, mademoiselle \ What would you have done had it been Monsieur Michel himself who had overheard your verdict, I wonder.'
    Raoul was never an easy man to face, and in this instance Charlotte felt badly out of her depth. She hadn't made the statement she did purely on hearsay, so there at least she had right on her side, but she could hardly expect him to see it in that light. Perhaps he knew of his cousin's interest in Annette Villeaux, or perhaps he didn't, but the evidence of Charlotte's own eyes was her only defence and she did not hesitate long about justifying herself.
    *You don't understand. Monsieur Raoul,' she told him, choosing her words carefully. *I wasn't speaking entirely without—without grounds. I had dinner in Paris with Monsieur Cordet last evening and at the same restaurant- '
    *You saw something that you found not to your liking,' he guessed, and the slight curl on his lip suggested he found her indignation as naive as Annette Villeaux had done. The grey eyes had a bright glittering look when he fixed them

    on her flushed cheeks so that Charlotte felt rather as if her own morals were under debate rather than those of Michel Menais and his secretary. 'Are you so unworldly. Miss Kennedy, that you have never before seen a man dining with a woman other than his wife?'
    So discreedy worded, Charlotte thought, and cast her gaze around the big room rather than look at him. Tm not as naive as you imply, monsieur^ she told him, *but in this instance I—^well, I felt for Madame Lizette.*
    *You feel so deeply for Madame Lizette?* The narrowed gaze was so horribly disconcerting and she seemed unable to avoid it somehow.
    *I like her and I feel a—a certain loyalty to her,' she insisted. *She is my employer, after all. I know that in France '
    *In England too, mademoiselle V he insisted firmly. Trance has no monopoly in the keeping of mistresses, and I doubt if you would consider it your business to interfere if one of your countrymen showed a preference for the company of his secretary! Feel sorry for the wife if you must, but have the goodness to keep your pity within the bounds of discretion; especially where my family is concerned!'
    Charlotte's st(Hnach curled sickeningly as she listened to him, and she looked up at him with her dislike showing plainly in her eyes. *You have no more pity for Madame Lizette than—^than that woman who just left does!' she accused, then gasped in alarm when a strong hand gripped her wrist and held on tighdy for a moment, long hard fingers digging into her flesh relendessly.
    'What it is I care about does not concern you any more than what my cousin does, mademoiselle \ The matter is none of your business and you have no right to interfere in it—^less still to discuss it with another member of the staff! Do you understand me?'
    *I understand you perfecdy, monsieur !' Charlotte's voice

    cracked with bitterness, but she tried in vain to free her wrist * You'll have me thrown out if I don't toe the