He took a deep breath and walked to the window of the apartment, staring down at the Seine, obviously trying to stay calm.

“Take care of this for me, Judy. I am going to the office to see my mother.”

“Shall I come too, darling?” Katherine asked.

Tom shook his head. “If you would arrange the end of this lease. I shall be taking possession of the château, tonight.” His young face was hard with anger. “It’s mine. And this is going to end. Right now.”

Sophie sat in her office, humming to herself. The calls had slowed now; instead of giving interviews, she was reading the delicious results. The press coverage was overwhelming. The weekly magazines were just being published; next it would be the monthlies. Her party would get two months of exposure. And sales—sales were through the roof. . . .

She was miles away from the timid widow that had walked into this building. She had had the courage to battle her demons, inside and out. And she’d rescued the firm.

Sophie was proud of herself.

Independence. It was new, but it suited her.

Still, she couldn’t deceive herself. It wasn’t just the sense of the threat lifting that was making her happy.

It was Hugh Montfort.

These feelings—they were amazing.

Her whole world felt new—like coffee on the terrace overlooking the lake—a life suddenly, surprisingly, full of possibility. Like thirty-nine wasn’t old; it was the start of something strange but wonderful. She had started to sing in the shower, started to wear heels, to shorten her hemlines.

Of course, it was early days yet—very early.

But today, Sophie was happy.

There was a knock on the door.

“Yes, Celine?”

Her secretary entered, full of excitement. “Excuse me, Mme Massot, but you have a visitor! It’s M. Thomas.”

Sophie jumped to her feet, overjoyed. Tom! Coming to see her? Could it be true? A wild hope rushed through her. If he wanted to talk . . .

“Sweetheart—come in, come in,” she said. Tom entered, but did not sit down; Sophie saw he was upset. “Celine, could you give us some privacy, please? And hold all my calls.”

“Of course, Madame.”

Celine shut the door.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true? Tom—calm down. Sit down, you just got here.”

“That you are dating Hugh Montfort. Father’s enemy. And that you brought him to our village.” Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Without informing me.”

Sophie sighed.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this—”

“I see.”

“We haven’t even—”

“All right, that’s enough,” Tom said. “Please spare me the couple talk.”

“I understand you’re angry, Tom.” She was surprised to find herself so calm. “But I’m an adult, and this is my business.”