Taming D'Artagnan by Fi Whyms

Author:Fi Whyms
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fi Whyms
Published: 2023-08-07T00:00:00+00:00

I realised I was frowning. Guy’s mother seemed to have had quite a lot of property scattered around France, but there was still no mention of the château.

Et voilà, as they say.

Guy inherited the Chateau de Chantlette in the Cognac region.

I turned to stare at him. He did not look at me but looked straight ahead, the aquiline nose in perfect profile.

Slowly, slowly – way, way, way too slowly – the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle began to slide magically across the broad, flat, pristine surface of my naïve little mind, as if they had suddenly come alive and discovered their innate attraction for one another. When they were finally all reunited, there it was: he had known all along that he was going to inherit the château. The will had been made aeons ago when French francs were still common currency. It was no surprise whatsoever to him, or anyone else.

And there was more, there was oh-so-much more. Why we had to get married so quickly: so that I too would inherit the château. And why was that? Because he fully intended for us to come and live in the château, and he needed me to be invested in that particularly ... thorny little project. The way the pre-nuptial contract was structured, 50:50, for this very reason. His property venture in Bordeaux with his friend: he wouldn’t be managing that from London, he would be managing it from France, from the château!

Oh, and more still. He wasn’t going to ‘change my job, I am a bit bored, Nicole’, he was going to leave his job. Silly me! He had already given notice; at his level they were almost all on a minimum three months’ notice, but as he wasn’t going to a competitor bank, they would probably just let him go quietly. That was why he wasn’t going to the office, why we had been able to take a long honeymoon, why he was so chilled.

All of that ranting on the phone from New York about how tired he was of his job, THAT was when he’d decided that he was going back to France, and I was coming with him. He’d had time to think about how to orchestrate it, to plan it, setting up the idea of marriage, the impossible-to-refuse proposal...

I continued staring at him while my brain finally finished the full system update and I was fully, comprehensively up to speed with how devious D’Artagnan was capable of being.

Oh no, wait ... BREAKING: he had DEFINITELY orchestrated the sociopath’s move to New York knowing full well that it would almost invariably result in my becoming unemployed, which was exactly what he wanted. That made me cross.

The notaire was droning on and on. I think even she had got bored with the gig; she knew she’d lost the audience. But things were clearly moving towards some sort of conclusion. A pretty young assistant entered the room bearing what looked like the equivalent of War and Peace in octuplicate, which we were all required to initial and/or sign, starting at Antoine’s end.

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