Just so you know why I chose the city of Biarritz, I have been visiting this city every summer as a child with my parents and I came back last summer with my boyfriend and I absolutely love this city, so I felt like it could be the perfect place to start this fiction.

I have done a bit of research and Biarritz only started to really soar around 1890-1900, so every place that I mention might not have existed in 1881 but I decided to alter the time. It's the same when I talk about the mayor and the city hall, Biarritz's first mayor was chosen in 1788 (Thanks Wikipedia) following a national law establishing that every town or city should have a town hall. I could have placed the story in the 1890's but I prefered distorting the French history instead. And you might not have learnt that haven't I done such a thing ;) Isn't writing amazing for that.

Friday 20th April 1881 had been a big day for Hortense de Montmarin. She had had two meetings with interior designers and architects to make sure that the Casino Bellevue was redecorated according to the new fashions à la mode in Paris. The season was to begin soon and she expected that this year would bring even more people than the previous. Last year they had welcomed the Russian tsar and many Russian nobles, the military pourparlers between the two countries had a positive influence on the city's economy. They were also expecting to bring some artists from all around the world to entertain their guests, but she had been struggling on this side and was still sending tens of letters across Europe and hoping to get some answers as soon as possible.

Since her husband's death, and even since he had been sick she had had to take over all of his responsibilities. At first she had been shy and uncertain but now, after almost two years of running around and talking to important people she was a different person and she loved it. It could be stressful sometimes as she was the only woman in a man's world but she was constantly looking for new ways to make them hear her voice.

Thanks to her late husband, she owned most of the city's touristic and entertainment buildings. Her reputation generally preceded her in the business: she was smart, tough and she couldn't suffer being disrespected. She was feared by those who worked with her but she knew how to be kind, well at least she was working on developing a softer side to her personality now that she had earned some respect. She didn't have many friends amongst the ladies of the Biarritz society, most of them thought that it was improper for a noble woman to do business. She decided they were jealous and she didn't need their approvals to live her life the way she wanted to. The only thing that mattered to her was the support of her two closest confidents since she had arrived in the city, Joséphine Louvois and Claire d'Irrandea.

She was twenty four years old, a rich business woman and known to every inhabitants as the Merry Widow.

Her father, Antonio Morretti, had left Florence with her one month after her mother had died. They had travelled to France and had stayed two years in Marseilles before moving to the West coast. There, her father had resumed his functions as an architect working closely with Henri de Montmarin, an outcast from the nobility that made a fortune as a business man. When Hortense had reached the age of eighteen, she was considered as one of the prettiest women the city had to offer for marriage. Her father refused to part from her and had denied every proposal until his employer, monsieur de Montmarin had asked his daughter's hand. And the only thing he told her as an explanation was "I am so sorry mia piccina, I had no choice." That was the last time she had talked to her father. They still saw each other as they lived in the same city, they exchanged some polite words but acted as strangers. She could never forgive him; he had given her innocence to this pig of a man. When her despicable husband suffered a stroke, he never fully recovered and stayed paralysed on the left side of his body until he died eleven months later. His death came as a relief, but she was now alone in a world of men and couldn't mention that she had her husband's approval when someone disagreed with her propositions. Black became the new colour she wore on a daily basis, she was Montmarin's widow and she should be considered as her legitimate successor in the business. Her fiery temperament was what granted her a place in the middle of these men, but she still wore black even if the one-year period for grieving had finished last month.

Making people forget that she was from the weak sex had been an everyday struggle, especially because she was an exotic beauty with her slightly tanned skin and brown sparkling eyes.

She tossed her gloves on the sofa and dismissed her governess. How good she felt once at home, she had managed to get rid of the remnant vestiges of her husband's presence and had redecorated the whole interior to her taste. She opened the back door and walked around her garden, night was gradually falling and she could see the lights in the neighbour's house. Wait… What? This villa has been empty for at least four years, she had actually never seen lights in it… Who was there? Did the former tenants return after all these years? Who were the owners of this house? She didn't lose time and came back inside, calling for Amaia, her governess.

"Amaia, you have served my late husband for more than fifteen years in this house, could you tell me who owned the villa next to mine?" She asked as she grabbed an apple and took a bite.

"Indeed Madame, I have. If I remember well it was a couple, the Marquis and Marquise de Raincourt. They were lovely, the husband had served for Napoleon III and about ten or eleven years ago he had returned injured and disfigured. He died soon after from his injuries, and his wife left in the following months. People said they were very in love. No one knows what had happened to the Marquise after… But not a soul has lived in this house eversince."

"I see, and did you know of any relative that could have come back to live in this place?"

The governess shrugged her shoulders.

"No one I could think of Madame. The poor Marquise couldn't have any children so I don't see who could have come to live here… Maybe it's a cousin or another member of the family…"

"Mmmh… I'll do my investigation; I doubt it's a thief so I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow to satisfy my curiosity. Would you bring me a bottle of wine Amaia? I feel that I deserve a glass tonight."

On those words she went to her second living room and started to sort out the books of the Casino Victoria. God how she needed this glass of wine!

Across the road, Erik had been trying to make his way through the dusty rooms of the gigantic villa. He would make sure to find someone to clean up these years of neglect. The only thing he needed was to put the bedroom in order so that he had a place to sleep in. He felt a weird feeling, as if he was not home and all alone… He discarded those thoughts and put himself at work.

Before the sun had shown its first beams, he had walked to the city hall to drop an announce that he was looking to hire a butler and maids to take care of his house. He had signed, Erik de Raincourt. When he had first set foot in front of the big villa he had known that his days of calm and anonymity were over. A masked man as the owner of one of the biggest villa in the neighbourhood, he would be the talk of the town. But for now, he would stay hidden and put some order into his house. He had not slept at all and had cleaned the main living room and entrance. The decoration was old and grandiose, a bit too much for his taste but he could live with it for now. The next step was to find a job, he only had enough to live a couple of months idly but that was it. He would introduce himself as an architect and find someone to work for.

Back in his villa he had gotten rid of his vest, and had rolled the sleeves of his shirt, he would need new clothes too, he thought. But for now, he had discovered a piano that was in desperate need of tuning. No sooner had he started his endeavour than he heard a knock on his front door. Dammit! He thought, I can't believe it's a bloody servant that has already seen my offer, it's too early… Oh god I should have never listen to that woman and I should have stayed hidden in the middle of nowhere. I am not in the mood… I should pretend there's no one. Yes, let's do that! And this person will leave.

He stayed silent, standing in the middle of the living room hoping that the intruder would go away. But the knock on the door didn't stop and he heard a muffled feminine voice:

"Hey is there anyone in here? I live in the house across the road, I wanted to introduce myself as I saw there were some lights in the house yesterday!"

Of course he didn't answer. Long seconds passed and he heard again:

"Hello? Please, if there is anyone in here, could you answer me?"

Could that damned woman just take care of her own business and get away from my house? He thought as he was getting angry. Anyway, he was in no state to talk to anybody. He was dishevelled and hadn't slept in twenty-four hours. He didn't have time to proceed another angry thought that he heard the front door creak opened.