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Master of the Game by Sidney Sheldon

 

The day the girls arrived, Kate was at home waiting for them. She took Eve into the sitting room off her bedroom. “I’ve been hearing some distressing stories,” she said. “I want to know why you were thrown out of school.” Her eyes bored into those of her granddaughter.

“We weren’t thrown out,” Eve replied. “Alex and I decided to leave.”

“Because of some incidents with boys?”

Eve said, “Please, Grandmother. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to. What have you been doing?”

“I haven’t been doing anything. It is Alex who—” She broke off.

“Alex who what?” Kate was relentless.

“Please don’t blame her,” Eve said quickly. “I’m sure she couldn’t help it. She likes to play this childish game of pretending to be me. I had no idea what she was up to until the girls started gossiping about it. It seems she was seeing a lot of—of boys—” Eve broke off in embarrassment.

“Pretending to be you?” Kate was stunned. “Why didn’t you put a stop to it?”

“I tried,” Eve said miserably. “She threatened to kill herself. Oh, Gran, I think Alexandra is a bit”—she forced herself to say the word—“unstable. If you even discuss any of this with her, I’m afraid of what she might do.” There was naked agony in the child’s tear-filled eyes.

Kate’s heart felt heavy at Eve’s deep unhappiness. “Eve, don’t. Don’t cry, darling. I won’t say anything to Alexandra. This will be just between the two of us.”

“I—I didn’t want you to know. Oh, Gran,” she sobbed, “I knew how much it would hurt you.”

 

 

Later, over tea, Kate studied Alexandra. She’s beautiful outside and rotten inside, Kate thought. It was bad enough that Alexandra was involved in a series of sordid affairs, but to try to put the blame on her sister! Kate was appalled.

 

 

During the next two years, while Eve and Alexandra finished school at Miss Porter’s, Eve was very discreet. She had been frightened by the close call. Nothing must jeopardize the relationship with her grandmother. The old lady could not last much longer—she was seventy-nine!—and Eve intended to make sure that she was Gran’s heiress.

 

 

For the girls’ twenty-first birthday, Kate took her granddaughters to Paris and bought them new wardrobes at Coco Chanel.

At a small dinner party at Le Petit Bedouin, Eve and Alexandra met Count Alfred Maurier and his wife, the Countess Vivien. The count was a distinguished-looking man in his fifties, with iron-gray hair and the disciplined body of an athlete. His wife was a pleasant-looking woman with a reputation as an international hostess.

Eve would have paid no particular attention to either of them, except for a remark she overheard someone make to the countess. “I envy you and Alfred. You’re the happiest married couple I know. How many years have you been married? Twenty-five?”

“It will be twenty-six next month,” Alfred replied for her. “And I may be the only Frenchman in history who has never been unfaithful to his wife.”

Everyone laughed except Eve. During the rest of the dinner, she studied Count Maurier and his wife. Eve could not imagine what the count saw in that flabby, middle-aged woman with her crepey neck. Count Maurier had probably never known what real lovemaking was. That boast of his was stupid. Count Alfred Maurier was a challenge.

 

 

The following day, Eve telephoned Maurier at his office. “This is Eve Blackwell. You probably don’t remember me, but—”

“How could I forget you, child? You are one of the beautiful granddaughters of my friend Kate.”

“I’m flattered that you remember, Count. Forgive me for disturbing you, but I was told you’re an expert on wines. I’m planning a surprise dinner party for Grandmother.” She gave a rueful little laugh. “I know what I want to serve, but I don’t know a thing about wines. I wondered whether you’d be kind enough to advise me.”

“I would be delighted,” he said, flattered. “It depends on what you are serving. If you are starting with a fish, a nice, light Chablis would be—”

“Oh, I’m afraid I could never remember all this. Would it be possible for me to see you so that we could discuss it? If you’re free for lunch today…?”

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Categories: Sidney Sheldon
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