Love Is Lovelier (14 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

L
ATE IN THE AFTERNOON
, Charlotte made her way back to her office, sorting through the mail she’d picked up from her in-house mailbox.

She frowned at the plain white envelope with her name typed on the front, and curiosity had her opening it first. Rapidly, she scanned the unsigned note inside.

And sank into her chair. Stared.

WILLIAM ARMSTRONG = SECOND OFFER???

No. Oh, dear heaven, no—

That bastard. Smooth-talking, slick sonofa—

The image of her mother this morning flashed through her mind. She’d been so happy, her feet barely touching the ground.

Blushing, for heaven’s sake, like a girl.

Why would he do this to Mama?

Charlotte shoved to her feet. Craved to throw something. If she were a man, she’d—

Hold it
, her better sense prevailed.
Don’t go off half-cocked. You have no idea who sent this. Be sure before you—

She sagged. She would have to tell her mother. Oh, mercy, how could she ever break news like this?

Then a notion hit her, a means to confirm this quickly. She picked up the phone and dialed. Jud Lawson had submitted the second offer as trustee. She tapped her toes while she waded through voice mail.

Why didn’t anyone have a live person answering phones anymore?

Finally, she reached the option to dial his extension. “Jud Lawson’s office.”

Not him. She ground her teeth at yet one more delay.

Wait. Maybe if she—

“This is Judith Armstrong, calling for my father about the offer on the Hotel Marchand. You might be able to help me with a quick question.”

“I’d be happy to, but the file is in Mr. Lawson’s office.”

Bingo. But she couldn’t feel glad.

“Is he available?”

“He is, Ms. Armstrong. Let me get him.”

She took in a deep breath. Then another. Wondered if she could bear to see this through.

“Ms. Armstrong, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

You’re about to be more surprised
. “This is Charlotte Marchand. Is William Armstrong behind the offer you submitted?” She had to be certain.

His sharp intake of breath told her all she needed to know. He recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. “That’s privileged information, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Oh, I am.” She counseled herself to slow down. They might need that offer.

The hell they would. She’d sell this hotel over her dead body. She’d slaved and sweated for months now with barely a day off, trying to step into her mother’s very formidable shoes, at first mostly because it was a family enterprise.

Then because the hotel was hers. She loved this place, every stone, every nook, every cranny. The dread that they were going to lose it was a constant chill in her bones. If they did, her mother would forgive her, she knew that.

But she would not forgive herself.

“You may not choose to confirm the identity of the buyer, but you can certainly relay an answer for me, can’t you, Mr. Lawson?” She forced her voice to sweetness and nearly gagged.

“I suppose.”

“Well, you tell William Armstrong—I mean, your client, that hell will freeze over before I sell to him.”

“My client’s identity will remain anonymous until he or she chooses to reveal it. That said, I believe your mother is the only person who can exercise the option to sell.”

“That’s the other part of this. You inform him that he’d better stay away from my mother, or—” Barely, barely, she reined herself in. Her father’s temper had been legendary, and she was a chip off the old block.

“I wouldn’t make threats, Ms. Marchand. This is a simple, straightforward business transaction. Your conduct is unprofessional.”

She clenched her jaw. Counted to ten.

“My conduct—” She swallowed hard, tamped down the bitter words rushing to be said. “Just pass along my message, Mr. Lawson.”

She didn’t wait for his response before she slammed down the phone.

“Charlotte, you have that appointment—” Her assistant halted in the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s my mother?”

“I’ll check. Is she okay?”

She won’t be
.

Oh, for someone to take this off her shoulders, Charlotte begged, this one last thing that felt as though it would send her to her knees.

She would have to break her mother’s heart.

Before
he
succeeded in stealing her hotel.

Sweet-talking, lying creep. She’d never trusted him. Why hadn’t she kept after her mother, urging her to be more cautious?

“Charlotte?”

“She’ll be fine,” Charlotte reassured Julie. And hoped she was right. “Please see if you can locate her, but don’t tell her I’m looking.”

“You got it.” Julie left.

Charlotte paced.
Oh, Papa, if only you were here, none of this would have happened.

She’d never missed her father more.

J
UDITH
A
RMSTRONG
stepped off the plane from Dallas, a woman with a mission. She’d done as her father asked, and he would be pleased with what she’d accomplished. She’d been up late last night, preparing a presentation detailing her suggestions for improving profits.

But when she’d finished, she’d been unable to sleep. A new twist on the Hotel Marchand offer had come to her, and she’d called Glen Schaefer at home to bounce it off him. Not a massive change, but a new angle to make the whole purchase go much more smoothly and remove the last of the objections Anne Marchand might have. Except for the price, of course. But Judith’s job was to protect Regency’s interests, not theirs.

Armed with that knowledge and a go-ahead from Glen, she would phone and ask for a meeting with Charlotte Marchand. Ostensibly, she was one hotelier making contact with a contemporary. Charlotte was reputed to possess a keen intellect, but so did Judith. It was that incisive mind that had ferreted out her husband’s infidelity when he’d been sure he was so much smarter.

Her self-confidence had taken a big slap, and she’d been in a funk for months, but she was hitting her stride now. She was good at this; Glen knew it, and so did her father. She was more a chip off the old block than she’d thought.

Her father had gotten rich by not being afraid to gamble while still being cagey and, when it suited him, circumspect.

She was ready to show him that she could do the same.

She dialed the Hotel Marchand main number. She would meet with Charlotte and manage to feel her out, ever so discreetly, about any desire Charlotte might have to convince her mother to sell or what would be required for an offer to succeed. She would also discover whether Charlotte knew that their parents were…involved. And if that were as distasteful to her as it was to Judith.

The undertaking would require immense skill and delicacy. The Judith so whipped by her failure at marriage wouldn’t have believed herself capable of it. Even now, she felt more butterflies than she’d like.

But she was beginning to see that breeding came through. Her father was energized by a gamble, and she felt the buzz of this one in her own blood.

You can do this,
she repeated to herself like a mantra.

And Daddy will be so proud.

“Y
OUR MOTHER IS ON-SITE
,” Julie said. “In the courtyard, doing her hostess thing and charming the daylights out of the guests, as always.” She grinned. “Wasn’t she cute this morning? I swear her feet barely touched the ground. A man, right?”

Charlotte rubbed her forehead. “Yeah. But not just any man. William Armstrong.”

“Oh. From The Regency?”

Charlotte nodded.

“He’s really rich. And hot, for an older guy.”

“He’s slime,” Charlotte snapped.

“Whoa. He’s taking advantage of our Anne?”

Charlotte paused for a second, wishing she could recall her outburst. Then sighed. Julie had proven herself discreet over and over.

And Charlotte could use someone to bounce this off, since her usual sounding board—her mother—was the topic. “He’s behind the second offer on the hotel.”

Julie’s eyes went wide. “No way.” Her brows snapped together. “Oh, that’s low. That snake.” Then she cocked her head. “But it’s a good one. Better than the first. Why would he do that?”

This was why Julie was worth her weight in gold. “Because he’s seduced Mama into sharing details of the first one, so he knew what to beat?”

“She wouldn’t,” Julie said. “Unless she—”

“Trusted him,” Charlotte finished.

“Oh, no. He really is a jerk.”

“He didn’t get that rich by being soft.” Charlotte thought back. “He and my father had some feud when they were younger. This isn’t the first time he’s tried to buy the hotel.”

“So that’s why there’s a trustee. So you wouldn’t hold the past against him.”

Hearing her own thoughts reflected back wasn’t comforting. “And to keep Mama from clamming up.”

“You have to tell her.” Julie looked sad. “She’s going to be—”

“Devastated. Yeah.” Charlotte’s head drooped. She stared at her desktop. “I don’t know how to break it to her. And I’d give nearly anything not to have to.”

“You should gather your sisters first.”

“You know me too well.”

“I’ll call them.” Julie headed for the door. “Oh. I nearly forgot why I came in here. Oh, man…”

“What is it?”

Julie waved a phone message slip. “Guess who wants to drop by to meet you?”

“No idea.”

“Judith Armstrong.”

Charlotte did a double take. “No way. When?”

“She said at your convenience, but she could drop by on her way back to the office if you could spare a few minutes. She was at the airport.”

Charlotte sank back in her chair. “What could she want?” She shook her head. “We’re not completely unknown to each other. We went to the same school, though she’s younger. We didn’t hang around, but she lived close to
Grand-mère
. Her father still does.” At the thought of William Armstrong, she frowned again. “How does this fit in?”

“Beats me,” Julie said. “So what do I tell her?”

Charlotte’s smile was slow and not altogether nice. “Oh, by all means, tell her to drop by. I’ll give her a minute.”

“And your sisters?”

“Hold off on that until I sort out what in the devil game the Armstrongs are playing.”

“You got it.”

J
UDITH HAD INDEED
been in transit from the airport and willing to detour. She no doubt believed that she’d been discreet in the way she’d slipped those probes, so smooth and slick, into a hi-how-are-you, we’re-in-the-same-business, just-wanted-to-get-to-know-you excuse for a meeting.

They’d even managed to slide into the territory of common friends, while Charlotte wondered if she’d ever get to the point.

But after Judith had begun her hotel chitchat, she’d become more obvious.

And less so. Because what she seemed to be doing was feeling Charlotte out on what it would take to buy the Hotel Marchand. As if an offer wasn’t already in place.

What were they doing? Father and daughter, tag-teaming the Marchands? Judith seemed inordinately interested in determining Charlotte’s requirements for giving her blessing to the enterprise.

Finally, Charlotte lost it. “Cut to the chase,” she said to Judith. “You’ve already covered that ground.”

“What?” Judith’s expression appeared honestly bewildered. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The offer your father has submitted. We haven’t responded, so why are you fine-tuning now?”

“My…father,” Judith said. And all the air seemed to leak out of her.

“So, what, you and he split forces? He seduces my mother and you pump me for information?”

Judith went very pale. “Seduced your mother?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know. He’s got her walking around, lit up like a Christmas tree.” Charlotte let her contempt drip through every word.

“You’re not happy about them, either.”

“About him being such a lowlife and so desperate to top my father that he would stoop to breaking the heart of the best woman I’ve ever met? No, I’m not happy. He’s as much a bastard as I feared.”

“He’s a good man—” The protest was automatic. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“He already has.”

Judith rose, appearing thoroughly shattered. “I can’t— He never said a word—” She pressed her lips together. “I have to go. To talk to him. Find out what’s going on.” She made her way to the door without saying goodbye.

“Wait.” Charlotte rounded the desk. “When you see him, let him know that I’m telling my mother now. I’m worried about what it’s going to do to her, but she has to be warned. Has to see him for what he really is.”

“I understand.” Judith’s voice was dull.

“Tell him this, as well. If he sets one foot on Hotel Marchand property or tries to contact my mother in any manner, I will have him arrested for stalking, at a minimum. Fraud or anything else I can manage.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Charges might not stick, but his reputation will take a hit. A guy like him has an ego. I’m going to punch a hole in it. I wish I could punch his face.”

“He’s my father.” Judith looked very young suddenly. “He’s all I have.”

“She’s my mother,” Charlotte responded fiercely. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.” Desperately, she mused over options and wondered if her mother could be dissuaded by anything less than the truth.

And knew she wouldn’t.

Judith left without responding.

Charlotte sat for a moment with her head in her hands.

Then she reached for the phone to call her sisters.

Mama would need all of them.

A
NNE HUMMED SOFTLY
as she made her way through the courtyard. Then laughed at herself. She’d been like this all day, barely able to keep her joy from bubbling over. Yes, it was all right to be happy—

It is, Remy, isn’t it? He’s not you. He could never replace you—

Ma belle
, she could almost hear him say.
I am one of a kind
. He would be amused. Well, no, actually, he’d have already raged over to William, fists at the ready, if he were alive. He’d been a very jealous husband.