The Last Heiress (The Champagne Dynasty Family Saga Book 3) by Tessa Barclay

Author:Tessa Barclay [Barclay, Tessa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: family saga, family secrets, French historical romance, must read, enjoyable romantic read, twists and turns, page turner
Publisher: Wyndham Books (Family Saga)
Published: 2016-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

It might be said that Marc Auduron-Tramont stood in the role of father-in-law to Peter Norwood. Like most fathers-in-law, he was inwardly convinced that the man wasn’t good enough for his little girl.

There were many things about Peter that irritated Marc. His casual American manners ‒ why, the man seemed continually surprised at being expected to shake hands with friends on meeting! And those awful clothes he thought suitable for country wear ‒ more fitting on the trainer of a prizefighter, shawl-collared sweaters and loose flannel trousers. And he never got up until late in the morning.

On the other hand, his late rising meant that Marc could breakfast alone with Nora, which pleased him. And once Peter was up, he was full of New World energy. He played a good game of tennis, giving Nora all the competition she could handle. He rode well, was a fair shot ‒ which endeared him to the neighbours when they took out the boar-hounds in the thickets to the north-east of Calmady. He liked to swim, and was even now interesting himself in the construction of a swimming pool at the Villa Tramont ‒ though what the good of that was, Marc couldn’t see, because it would freeze almost solid in winter.

Best of all, the man took quite a lot of interest in the business ‒ but that was only to be expected, since the blood of winemakers ran in his veins.

Nora’s happiness was the touchstone. If Peter was making her happy, that was enough. Well, she seemed happy. Not exactly the radiant young bride, but pleased with life.

This was a topic of enquiry with Nora’s old school friend Émilie, now Madame Georgiot and mother of two children. The years had added plumpness to Émilie’s already rounded contours, but that didn’t prevent her from ordering creamy desserts when she and Nora met for lunch on Nora’s business trips to Paris.

‘I see you’re wearing your skirt past the knee,’ she remarked as Nora pushed her chair back a little, to relax with her coffee. ‘Is that Chanel’s new line?’

‘She says clothes are going to be longer. Something about a Depression always bringing in longer clothes. But there’s no Depression in France.’

‘Not yet! Alphonse says the Exchange is very jumpy.’

‘He’s not worried, though?’

‘I suppose not,’ Émilie said, delving into her charlotte aux marrons. ‘He doesn’t talk to me about business.’

‘Doesn’t he?’ Nora was surprised. ‘What do you talk about then?’

‘Good lord … I don’t know … the children, the house …’ She licked her spoon without shame. ‘Oh, that was gorgeous! And what, might I ask, do you and your American husband talk about?’

‘About the wine, and the estate, and the new swimming pool, and the show he’s producing ‒’

‘That production of Phaedre was a real flop, wasn’t it?’ Émilie said with some satisfaction. ‘Such a peculiar idea …’

‘The idea was Cocteau’s, not Peter’s. He only went along with it for the experience.’

Émilie beckoned to the waiter for her coffee. She waited until it had been poured, with plenty of cream, and helped herself to sugar.

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