Chapters (71)
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Part Two
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Part Three
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Part Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Part Five
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
“I will let Lord Lassiter know you are here. Just a moment, please.”
Before Turnbull could go into the library, the door swung open and Robert stepped out.
“Adrian, old chap, you’ve made it over earlier than usual today!” he exclaimed. “But I’ve finished my work. You could say I’ve just closed my shop.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Adrian responded, walking forward as Turnbull moved aside. Adrian and Robert embraced quickly and stood apart.
“What’s that package you’re hanging on to for dear life?” Robert asked, eyeing the envelope. Adrian had it pressed to his chest.
“It’s for you actually,” Adrian said to his friend, following Robert into the library and closing the door. Handing the large envelope to him, he added, “It’s your freedom.”
“My freedom?” Robert repeated, and frowned. Then it dawned on him what Adrian meant, and he exclaimed, “It’s the report from the private investigator, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed.” Adrian sat down in the chair opposite Robert’s desk.
Robert was still standing. Placing the envelope on the desk, he finally sat and stared at Adrian. “Dirt? Hot stuff? The goods?”
“I should say so … the works! You’re now holding the winning hand, so to speak. Wait until you read it all. It’ll knock your socks off.”
Robert smiled. It was almost unbelievable, and then he said, “Give me the gist of it now, a taste, and then I’ll go through the folders later. I suppose there is another man, by the look on your face. Or is it many men over the years? Nothing would surprise me with her.”
“One man.”
“Who is he? Do we know him?”
“No, of course not. He’s French, by the way.”
“A bloody Frog! You’ve got to be joking.” Robert was aghast.
“I’m not. He’s a Frog all right and quite a famous one at that. From a very wealthy background. Married. Four children and, as a Frenchman and a Roman Catholic, obviously no divorce. Not ever.”
“How long has the affair been going on?” Robert gave Adrian a hard stare. “By the look on your face, it’s long-standing.” A sudden thought struck him, and before Adrian could answer him Robert said, “Not before my boys … my sons are mine, aren’t they?”
“Of course they are! They’re the bloody spitting image of you. Blue eyes, black hair and tall. Lucinda has been involved with the Frog for seven years, and I’m certain of that. It’s in the report.”
“Hmmmm. A long time. Who is he? What’s his name?”
“Jean-Claude Theroux. Forty years old. Very ordinary looking, not a handsome man at all. But he is an important politician, in the Assemblée National, the Sénat. To put it in English, the French Parliament. A minister. And powerful, a lot of clout. Minister of Defense, in fact.”