Belle - Lesley Pearse [175]
‘He was called out on an urgent matter and asked me to look after you until he returns,’ Pascal said. ‘Come in by the fire, he won’t be long.’
Most of the apartments and houses Belle had been to in Paris had been furnished and decorated in a very sumptuous manner, but she had often thought them lacking in character. The drawing room Edouard took her into was by contrast very homely, with large couches, a roaring fire, walls lined with books, a great many ornaments on low tables and a thick Chinese carpet underfoot. Yet it didn’t seem to fit Philippe’s exuberant character.
‘This is Philippe’s home?’ she asked. ‘He didn’t say he had a house in Montmartre.’
While she could imagine Philippe sprawling on one of the couches, she was surprised he’d chosen pale blue ones, as for all the ornaments; that didn’t fit his image either.
‘I’m sure you understand a gentleman in his position would be wary of taking a lady to his home until he knew her better,’ Pascal said silkily. ‘Now, come and sit by the fire and I will get you a drink.’
He poured them both a large cognac, and sat opposite her by the fire. Belle felt the drink go straight to her head because she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. She’d been expecting to have dinner with Philippe, and she just hoped Pascal would go as soon as he got back.
She had noticed on previous meetings that Pascal didn’t hold conversations. He tended only to ask questions or give instructions, and he was no different now, firing questions at her about her lodgings, if she had any friends in Paris, and why she left England.
Since Belle had got to Paris she had avoided telling anyone anything about her past, it was safer that way. She had to answer Pascal’s questions though, so she said she had come to Paris with a man she loved, but he went off and left her for another woman. She added that she didn’t want to talk about that as she was trying to put it behind her.
‘Yet you made the step from being a mistress to lady of the night without too many problems?’
Belle shrugged. She felt he might have found something out about her, and was trying to corner her into either lying or admitting something. ‘It’s surprising what you can do when necessity calls for it,’ she said.
‘You are very evasive,’ he said, his eyes narrowing. ‘Why is that?’
‘I just don’t like talking about myself,’ she said. ‘You should understand that, you don’t talk about yourself either.’
Half an hour had gone by since she arrived and she was getting worried now that Philippe wasn’t going to come back at all.
‘You have only ever seen me at my place of business and of course I don’t talk about myself there,’ he replied. ‘But it is different now, we are two friends having a drink together.’
‘So tell me, are you married, do you have children?’ she asked.
He hesitated and then said he wasn’t married. Belle was fairly certain that was a lie for she’d overheard him talking to a married couple at the Ritz once, for whom he had been getting theatre tickets, and he’d told the woman that his wife had loved the play. As he was so slimy he could have just made that up to convince the woman she would enjoy it, but in Belle’s experience men didn’t usually mention a wife if they were bachelors.
‘I think I ought to go home, I’m not feeling very well,’ Belle said, after trying some small talk about the Eiffel Tower and going on a boat down the Seine. She got up and put her hand to her head as if it hurt.
‘You can’t go,’ Pascal said, leaping to his feet.
‘Philippe will understand,’ she said, making for the door.
As she reached it, Pascal caught her shoulder and pulled her back. ‘You aren’t going anywhere.’
‘I beg your pardon!’ Belle said reprovingly. ‘It isn’t for you to tell me what I can or can’t do. It’s not like I’ve been paid for tonight.’
‘I’ll pay you to be with me.’
Just the speed with which he responded told Belle that Philippe was not coming here tonight, this house might not even be his, and Pascal had set her up. A cold chill ran down her spine.
‘No. We have a business