“Of course, I understand. You’re so busy, and I hate to disturb you. I don’t mind seeing it with a member of the staff.”

“That won’t be possible,” she said coldly.

“May I call you at the end of the week and see if you might be going? I promise I wouldn’t stay long.” She wanted to say no but she didn’t, and she didn’t know why. He had a way of worming his way in that was very effective, no matter how much he revolted her. But maybe his “friend” would actually buy the château if she decided to sell, which she thought she eventually might. She couldn’t imagine staying there again or being happy there. She just hadn’t decided yet. The decision was painful for her.

“All right, fine,” she said, and could have kicked herself when she hung up. He was harmless, but he was such a little weasel. And then she forgot about him as she rushed to another meeting at Matthieu’s offices, in preparation for a board meeting.

The rest of the week moved just as fast. She hardly had time to talk to Mike and forgot to mention de Vaumont’s subsequent calls when she did. He had gotten so upset the last time she mentioned him, about the party at Versailles that she’d declined, that she wasn’t sure she’d tell him anyway.

Mike had been busy too. He never told her what he was working on, but she had learned to detect the stress level in his voice, or when things were going smoothly. Even long distance, they were learning each other’s ways and inflections. She loved talking to him and hated that she had so little spare time at the moment. Things didn’t slow down for her until late at night, and by then she was tired, but happy to hear him at the end of her day. He was usually still at the office then and getting ready to go home. He was working on finding a long weekend when he could come back to see her, but hadn’t found the free time yet. They might have to wait another month, until Thanksgiving, when he could take a week off, but it wasn’t a holiday for her in France, since it was an American holiday they didn’t celebrate.

True to form, Pierre de Vaumont called her on Friday afternoon, but he called during a lull when she was a little less rushed and slightly more pleasant to him.

“Do you think you’ll be going to the château this weekend?” he asked her. “My friend’s trip has been delayed, but he has authorized me to look at a number of châteaux for him. Yours, of course, would be the most beautiful, and his first choice, and certainly mine.”