42Chapter Thirty-Six: Nothing To Fear
"Well, boys and girls, what are your thoughts?" Lady Helena Norwich carefully set down her china tea cup and directed a probing gaze at her two companions. The three of them were relaxing in the garden at Norwich Manor after an exhausting round of high-stakes bargaining with the emissary from Khubar.
"It's a good offer," Sir Harold Barton rumbled. "Both sides stand to gain a great deal." The powerful British diplomat had been dealing with the desert nation for many years. Inviting slim, soft-spoken Mr. Aziz to Norwich Manor for afternoon tea had been his idea.
"But can we trust him?" Mallory James was rubbing her wrist. Her back and shoulders ached, and she felt tired after scribbling page after page of notes during the endless back-and-forth. The duel of wits between cool, elegant Lady Helena and poised, dark-eyed, quietly demanding Mr. Aziz had lasted for hours.
"What are your instincts, Mallory? Did you like him?" Cool, sophisticated Lady Helena raised one pencil-thin black eyebrow. She'd deliberately given her stunning young secretary a place at the table, knowing that Mallory had a loyal heart and a fierce desire to free Lady Helena's longtime friend and partner Simon Hill from prison. It didn't hurt that the girl could turn heads as well.
"Maybe he can help get Simon out of that awful place, but I don't believe he wants Norwich Enterprises to expand." Mallory shuddered, remembering the way Mr. Aziz never once seemed to blink his small black eyes. His gaze had been like a clammy touch, both clinging and cold. "He reminded me of a snake!"
"Someone's going to have to go to France, if the government of Khubar really wants to invest in your factories and holdings there," Sir Harold pointed out. The powerful older man rose from his wicker chair, and began casually massaging Mallory's shoulders.
"I can't waste time with that," Lady Helena declared, decisively snapping her fingers. "Mallory will go to France."
"Huh?" Mallory looked up in surprise, a curtain of shining gold hair falling across her face. Sir Harold's firm fingers had loosened the shapely secretary's carefully arranged coiffure.
"Nothing to fear," Sir Harold murmured, from behind her chair.
Mallory rested her hand on top of his. Her eyes remained fixed on Lady Helena, however. "But I've never even been to France! I don't speak the language and I certainly can't drive a proper bargain about factories I've never even seen."
"The bargaining will come later," Lady Helena explained, sounding almost bored. "Your only job will be to act as a charming young tour guide, showing the delegation from Khubar around Deauville and perhaps a bit of the coast. I'll make sure you have a photographer with you, to document everything and give you a certain degree of protection."
"I don't like the sound of this." Mallory was frowning. Having Harold in her corner gave her enormous confidence. Yet she was still loyal to Lady Helena.
"Nor do I," growled Sir Harold Barton. The older man rested both his hands on Mallory's shoulders. "I have a cottage in Deauville. Why can't Mallory stay there instead of being stuck all on her own in some Paris hotel? That way she'll be under my protection too."
"Both of you are over-reacting," Lady Helena insisted, sounding almost lazily unconcerned. "Mallory, the protection you need is not from being carried off to Khubar or cornered in a dark closet. Mr. Aziz and his team understand that western women have rights and must be treated with respect. I just don't want anyone claiming that you bargained with your body to get us a good deal, or that you mixed business with pleasure and behaved unprofessionally, the way you did with Prince Rashid in Khubar."
"There is nothing at all between me and Rashid!" Mallory pounded her fist on the table. The tea cups jumped.
"There, there, old girl," the older man soothed, rubbing her back. "Water under the bridge, you know."
"I like it when you stand up for yourself." Lady Helena's dark blue eyes flickered with amusement, as though all of Mallory's fireworks were just fun and games. "So we're all agreed then? Mallory, you have a week before the delegation arrives in Deauville. Use that time wisely. Sir Harold, you are still a British diplomat. Remember that you mustn't appear to be taking sides."
"I'm on Mallory's side," the old man declared, sounding very much like an old-fashioned man of honor. "But she will be in charge." With a final pat on the back he left his highly agitated young lover to her own turbulent thoughts. "I'll just phone my housekeeper, and let her know we'll be having a guest for the next few days."
"But what about you?" Mallory challenged Lady Helena directly. Nothing to fear. "What about you, my lady? What will you be doing?"
"I'll be doing what you did unsuccessfully all those weeks ago." Lady Helena didn't even bother to hide her scorn. "I'll be flying to Khubar, and negotiating personally with Prince Rashid. Simon's life depends on it."