The Boss (Chateau 3) - Page 57

“Wow, I didn’t know that. Fender doesn’t…talk much.”

Gilbert stared at me, his lips slightly pressed together in displeasure and his eyes a little dark. He didn’t beam at me the way he did with Fender, and I’d just have to accept the fact that he never would. “Did you have a request?”

“Yes. Maybe the two of us could go shopping in Paris?” He was passionate about designers and fashion, the perfect colors on the right complexions, the accessories that elevated an outfit from simple to fantastic. “Then get lunch or something?” Raven and I never really had a chance to do those things because we went sight-seeing instead. My time with her had been short…before everything happened.

Gilbert’s gaze dropped briefly before he found the words. “His Highness has requested that you don’t leave the premises in his absence.”

I was a bit disappointed but unsurprised. Without him present, there wasn’t much for me to do. It was too cold to spend much time outside, and it’d been raining a lot. “Have you been in contact with him?”

He shook his head.

“Then how do you know when to prepare for his arrival?”

“Because I’m always prepared for his arrival.” When his job was questioned, he was immediately defensive, like his occupation was the bread and butter of his life.

“Do you ever leave the house?”

“House?” he asked. “This is a palace, Melanie. Not a house.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“And yes. I have my time off to do what I wish. I would normally leave in his absence, but since you’re here, we both agreed I should stay put.”

“Because you’re the only one who speaks English?” Whenever I tried to talk to the housekeepers, they looked at me blankly then continued to work.

“Because the head butler is the only one who speaks to the master. Everyone else reports to me.”

I didn’t understand the hierarchy in this house, but that made sense. The rest of the staff moved in and out of the background, doing their jobs but trying to remain unseen. If Fender had to give orders to every single one, his day would be spent running a house rather than working. “Well, how about lunch?”

He gave a cut nod. “We can do lunch. Take a seat, and I’ll join you momentarily.” He turned to walk away.

I turned back around to admire the tea set, realizing that it could be hundreds of years old, that Parisian socialites may have drunk out of it and smeared their lipstick along the rim.

“And Melanie?” Gilbert turned back around.

I faced him.

“You look lovely in that dress. Purple is your color.” He gave a slight bow before he departed.

“Practicing your French?” He sat across from me in the garden room, which was surrounded by French doors made of glass, showing the water drops on the green leaves, the slight bop of the plants as the rain came down and made everything move. When spring arrived, I was certain it would be the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

I turned back to him. “Yes. That’s all I have to do…”

“Good.” He delicately placed his spoon in the soup then dragged the bottom against the side of the bowl before placing it in his mouth. With his eyes down on his food, he spoke. “I wanted to thank you for what you did with Fender a few weeks ago…just never got around to saying it.”

I watched him, unsure what he referred to.

He lifted his chin and met my look. “When I restricted your food.”

When that had happened, my actions were impulsive. I didn’t do it so Gilbert would like me. I just didn’t want Gilbert to get in trouble when he was a good servant in every other regard. I saw the way he breathed to serve Fender, and seeing how angry Fender was, I wanted to preserve that relationship. “You’re welcome.”

“I know how this must sound, but…I did it because I want Fender to have the best of everything. I control every aspect of his personal life without him even realizing it, so it was natural for me to do that with you. I thought he would be displeased if you were bigger, so I wanted to address the problem without him even knowing.”

“Why did you think he’d be displeased?”

He looked at his soup again and glided his spoon inside. “I know his taste in women.”

“And what kind of taste does he have?”

“Tall, thin, model material. Perfection.”

I wasn’t tall, and I didn’t find myself to be model material either.

“But while you’re absolutely gorgeous, you don’t quite fit into those requirements, so I guess I don’t know everything about him…”

I looked down at my salad and pushed a couple pieces around, thinking about every moment when Fender looked at me—like it was impossible to take his eyes off me. Just his gaze alone showed more dedication than any man had ever given me in my entire life. He made me feel like the most beautiful in the world without even saying it. I didn’t quite understand his fascination with me, because Gilbert was right. There were better options out there. “Can I ask you something?”

Tags: Penelope Sky Chateau Romance
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