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Just what have I gotten myself into here?
CHAPTER 15
Natalie
Now fully dressed, I head to the garden.
That sounds easy in theory, but in reality this house is as complicated as the palace of Versailles. It feels more like being Alice in Wonderland than Cinderella at the ball.
Door number one leads to an office. Best I don’t go there. Door number two is a very extravagant bathroom with a burgundy toilet.
Door number three leads outdoors. I walk near a garage-ish thing, and by following the direction of the sun as well as the stepping-stones, I can confirm I am now in the garden. That’s assuming that the vast beds of roses, begonias, violets and lilies and a pond is a garden.
No, not a pond. It’s a lake.
“Natalie,” Olivier calls and waves me over.
“Hi, do you think you could draw me a map of the grounds or something? This place is harder to navigate as my second cousin’s corn maze, and that was no laughing matter.”
He doesn’t smile and completely ignores my question. “This is the terrace where we take lunch. Now, follow me.”
He takes me through the garden. I can only imagine the upkeep needed in a place like this. Is that why I’m here? Landscaping? I’ve never had much of a green thumb, despite Mom’s incredible patch of bluebonnets.
“Am I here for the garden?” I ask, but I get my answer quickly as a cart speeds by with four men on it holding various gardening implements.
Thank goodness I’m not on garden duty. I wouldn’t have minded, except that I probably would have done more damage than good. And who knows what my job would have been then?
One of the men strolls over to us, and I immediately recognize that chiseled jaw line.
“You must be Olivier’s brother.” I extend my hand as he approaches us.
He wipes his hands on his jeans and reaches out. “Indeed, I am,” he says in perfect English.
“This is my brother, Sebastien. Sebastien, this is Natalie.”
“Lovely to meet you, Sebastien.”
“Ah, so this is the American. Enchanté.”
Enchanté indeed. This man is a tall drink of water. Good family genes. His eyes laugh in a way that is natural and easy, very different from Olivier in that way.
“We will relish the opportunity to work on our English.”
Olivier rolls his eyes. “You certainly need it.”
“Tell me,” Sebastien leans forward in fake secrecy, “my accent is better than his, right?”
“You both have excellent accents,” I say as a peace offering.
“All thanks to Grandmama’s insistence, though I think I was the quicker study.” Sebastien winks at me.
“Don’t you start!”
Sebastien whispers, “Big brother syndrome. Speaking of which, has my dashing older brother taken you yet to meet—”
“No,” Olivier jumps in, “I have not.”
“I see,” Sebastien replies. “You are still innocent to the waiting wolf.”
