Mrs Beauregarde Novels & Stories

“We don’t steal recipes, honey. We acquire.” Before Rory could react, Genevieve swept in from the back like a choir solo—earrings, floral wrap dress, and a smile that could broker a truce or a war. “Well, if it isn’t the du Prée delegation. I’m Genevieve St. James, resident truth-teller and part-time hurricane.” Mabel grinned. “pardon me”— I’ve heard about you.” “And You’ll definitely hear more if you stay for pie,” Genevieve replied. “and You must be the mother.”

Every head turned when she stepped through the doorway. “Ah, there she is!” boomed a warm, feminine voice. A tall woman with flowing chestnut hair and regal posture rose from the far end of the table. “You must be Miss Grace. I’m Margaret Bearanstein — Arthur’s mother. Please, come in, dear.” Margaret radiated the kind of elegance that made Gwen instantly self-conscious. Her smile was genuine, but her eyes were sharp — appraising. “Thank you, Mrs. Bearanstein. It’s a pleasure to—”

JULIAN'S POV The Chateau Beaumont has the best wine cellar in Manhattan. I swirl the 2015 Margaux in my glass, watching the legs slide down the crystal. Across from me, Vivienne Laurent laughs at something Harrison said, her hand delicate on the stem of her champagne flute. She's stunning tonight. Platinum blonde swept into an elegant chignon, diamond earrings catching the candlelight. The kind of woman who belongs in rooms like this old money, classical beauty, effortless grace.

Bernard Moreau, on the other end of the table, smiled at her; she could see he had a few golden teeth, "Mrs. Elena, I couldn't believe my ears when his excellency told me his wife works in La Belle." "And I expected her to be treated better than this, Mr. Moreau." Though she couldn't see his face, she felt his anger. Mason looked fidgety as he returned to his seat next to Mr. Moreau, who was apologizing to Nikolai now. "I promise you, your excellency, all of this can be sorted out; your wife is a talented fashion designer, and this company needs her as badly as I need air" He turned to Mason, "There has to be a reason. And I'll like to hear it."

She was grinning. A short, plump woman wearing an apron over a flowered dress entered the sitting room and nodded to Béatrice. "Ah! Dinner is ready! Everyone, this is Marie who is a master in the kitchen!" Béatrice said with a flourish and Marie smiled with a deep blush. "Ben, could you look outside and see if the ladies are on their way back?" Catherine asked. He nodded and headed for the front door. Daniel was entering as he stepped outside.

return. “Welcome back, Master Travis.” A familiar old lady greeted us by the door. I recognized Mrs. Beets, the Cross’s oldest family maid. She smiled at me. “Welcome, Miss Brittany.” She still called me by my full name. I reached forward and gave her a hug, which startled her for a moment. I guess in the world of the rich, the maids don’t often receive hugs. “It must have been years since I last saw you, Mrs. Beets!”

Hearing the lady's sweet voice, she looked in her direction, "Yes." "Madam, You should be tired. Please come with me; I'll show you your new room." "Ms, If you don't mind, may I ask who you are?" She humbly interrogates. Maintaining her smile, the lady nodded and answered the next moment, "Madam, My name is Maggy. I'm a house caretaker and have worked for Master for over ten years." "I got it. "It's nice to meet you, Aunt." She greeted her with a warm smile.

"Yeah. What was her name?" Garrett looked up, his expression entirely serious. As my personal assistant and executioner, he knew the parameters of our operations. "Her name is Margaux Voss. The spelling is M-A-R-G-A-U-X, then the Voss is V-O-S-S. She used to stay at the Calloway estate. She was the caregiver of Mr. and Mrs. Calloway." I waited for the rest of the information. "She stayed there for three years," Garrett continued, checking a small notebook. "But now they said she left a note and she disappeared.” He looked up “No, she was nowhere to be found."

A young officer entered the archive room carrying another file. "Captain." "We've finished searching the Beaumont estate records." "What did you find?" The officer placed several faded photographs on the table. "They were taken during annual charity galas." Most of the images showed wealthy donors, politicians, and business leaders. Nothing unusual. Then Adrian stopped at one photograph. His eyes narrowed. "Zoom in." Captain Moreau enlarged the image on her tablet. The picture showed Victoria Hale welcoming guests at the entrance of Château Beaumont. Standing beside her was Madame Isabelle.

[Adam’s POV] “Mr Ballard, Marie Van den Berg is here to see you,” Geraldine announced. I left Eric’s office and headed down to my father’s suite. Well, my suite now. I went straight into the inner office and closed the door behind me. Marie was waiting. She turned to face me when I arrived. She was immaculately groomed, as always. Christian Louboutin shoes and matching clutch, an elegant tailored dress. The whole sophisticated package was completed with an understated Van Cleef necklace.