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...?"
"For an old friend, I can arrange that."
"Oh, good." Eve replaced the receiver slowly. It would be a lunch the count would remember the rest of his life.
They met at Lasserre. The discussion on wines was brief. Eve listened to Maurier's boring discourse impatiently, and then interrupted. "I'm in love with you, Alfred."
The count stopped dead in the middle of a sentence. "I beg your pardon?"
"I said I'm in love with you."
He took a sip of wine. "A vintage year." He patted Eve's hand and smiled. "All good friends should love one another."
"I'm not talking about that kind of love, Alfred."
And the count looked into Eve's eyes and knew exactly what kind of love she was talking about. It made him decidedly nervous. This girl was twenty-one years old, and he was past middle age, a happily married man. He simply could not understand what got into young girls these days. He felt uneasy sitting across from her, listening to what she was saying, and he felt even uneasier because she was probably the most beautiful, desirable young woman he had ever seen. She was wearing a beige pleated skirt and a soft green sweater that revealed the outline of a full, rich bosom. She was not wearing a brassiere, and he could see the thrust of her nipples. He looked at her innocent young face, and he was at a loss for words. "You - you don't even know me."
"I've dreamed about you from the time I was a little girl. I imagined a man in shining armor who was tall and handsome and - "
"I'm afraid my armor's a little rusty. I - "
"Please don't make fun of me," Eve begged. "When I saw you at dinner last night, I couldn't take my eyes off you. I haven't been able to think of anything else. I haven't slept. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind for a moment." Which was almost true.
"I - I don't know what to say to you, Eve. I am a happily married man. I - "
"Oh, I can't tell you how I envy your wife! She's the luckiest woman in the world. I wonder if she realizes that, Alfred."
"Of course she does. I tell her all the time." He smiled nervously, and wondered how to change the subject.
"Does she really appreciate you? Does she know how sensitive you are? Does she worry about your happiness? I would."
The count was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "You're a beautiful young woman," he said. "And one day you're going to find your knight in shining, unrusted armor, and then - "
"I've found him and I want to go to bed with him."
He looked around, afraid that someone might have overheard. "Eve! Please!"
She leaned forward. "That's all I ask. The memory will last me for the rest of my life."
The count said firmly, "This is impossible. You are placing me in a most embarrassing position. Young women should not go around propositioning strangers."
Slowly, Eve's eyes filled with tears. "Is that what you think of me? That I go around - I've known only one man in my life. We were engaged to be married." She did not bother to brush the tears away. "He was kind and loving and gentle. He was killed in a mountain-climbing accident. I saw it happen. It was awful."
Count Maurier put his hand over hers. "I am so sorry."
"You remind me so much of him. When I saw you, it was as though Bill had returned to me. If you would give me just one hour, I would never bother you again. You'd never even have to see me again. Please, Alfred!"
The count looked at Eve for a long time, weighing his decision.
After all, he was French.
They spent the afternoon in a small hotel on Rue Sainte-Anne. In all his experience before his marriage, Count Maurier had never bedded anyone like Eve. She was a hurricane, a nym-phet, a devil. She knew too much. By the end of the afternoon, Count Maurier was completely exhausted.