Chapter 17
17
PARIS, 1938
‘Evelina,’ Antoine said, his eyes wide as he looked from the dress that she’d displayed then back to her. ‘It’s…’
She glanced up at him, realising how much she’d come to rely on his opinion in the nearly eighteen months since she’d first met him.
‘Do you like it?’ she asked, as he walked around the mannequin for the third time. Antoine still managed to captivate her, her eyes rarely leaving him even as he moved, waiting for the moment that she was in his arms again. She knew she shouldn’t be so dependent on his praise, but she’d become used to him telling her what he loved about her creations, and she’d come to crave it. But this time, she could already tell from the expression on his face that he loved it.
‘It’s a masterpiece,’ he said. ‘Truly, Evelina, it is. Women are going to fight one another for the last dress in their size—I can already sense the commotion it will cause in the shop.’
‘I was afraid it might be too risqué,’ she said, although that wasn’t precisely the truth. She wanted to be risqué, to encourage women to wear dresses that made them feel desirable. She wanted women to dress for dinner and know they were about to make themselves the sole object of their husband’s consideration; that other women would pause in their conversations and wish they had something that beautiful to wear.
‘I’ve made a jacket, too,’ she said, going into her bedroom and re-emerging with a cropped jacket that she placed over the shoulders of the mannequin. ‘It will come in three colours, and it can be worn over any of the dresses in this collection, or in any collection for that matter. I want them to be timeless, collector’s pieces, perhaps, at a higher price point, and once they’ve sold out, they won’t be available until the following season. I think there needs to be a sense of urgency so women know they could miss out if they don’t purchase immediately.’
Evelina was surprised to see Antoine frowning. Does he not like the jacket? She looked it over, unsure what he could possibly be unhappy about. She’d tailored it to perfection, hand-sewing every part of the sample to ensure it was up to her exacting standards.
‘You are the artist, ma chérie, but I’ll decide on how to sell the product,’ Antoine said brusquely, turning away from the mannequin to pour himself a drink. ‘Designing is your job, strategy is mine, so please don’t think I need guidance in that department.’
She held her tongue. Antoine wasn’t just her lover, he was her one and only client, and she had no intention of upsetting his fragile ego. The one thing her mother had told Evelina and her sisters growing up was to never have all their eggs in one basket, and although it hadn’t made sense to her as a girl, it certainly did now. Although she’d gone and done exactly that when she’d given Antoine exclusivity to her designs.
But it’s different with Antoine , she assured herself . They’d formed a formidable partnership together, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him in it, so she had no intention of adding any more baskets, for the sake of a better expression. She simply needed to be more careful; he didn’t want her to offer her unsolicited opinion about such matters, which meant she would tread with caution.
‘Do you like the jacket, my love?’ she asked, deciding to try it on herself and see if that roused his interest. ‘I love the way it fits against the waist, just ever so slightly over-tailored in a way that flatters the female form. It makes me feel fabulous every time I wear it.’
Antoine’s smile was back when she walked a few steps closer to him, turning in a little circle so he could admire what she was wearing. After he’d had a sip of his drink, she twirled even closer and closed her hand over his glass, enjoying a small taste of his cognac, before sliding one of her hands up and down his arm.
She felt him relax beneath her touch, and so she stood on tiptoe and brushed a kiss to his jaw. Antoine ran a hand down her spine, and when she leaned back a little, he placed his lips against hers. He might have a fragile ego, but it was never hard to make him forgive her.
‘I’m sorry for being short with you,’ he said, when their lips drew apart. ‘It’s just been a very stressful week. I love what you’ve designed, and your ideas are, as always, much appreciated.’
She smiled, grateful to have a partner who knew when an apology was necessary. Evelina was aware she still bore the scars of her marriage, not knowing which version of her husband was going to walk through the door each night, but the more time she spent with Antoine, the easier it was becoming to forget about that part of her life.
‘Are we going out for dinner tonight?’ she asked, before pressing another quick kiss to his lips. ‘Or do I have you all to myself?’ Evelina secretly hoped they were staying in; she loved nothing more than the chance to prepare a meal for him and indulge in hours of his undivided attention. With her husband, they’d had a maid and a cook, so she didn’t have to think about anything domestic, more interested in her work than waiting on him or tending to the house. But with Antoine, she relished the chance to care for him, most likely because she only had him for such short amounts of time. When he wasn’t with her, she spent hours spread out and moving between her bedroom and the sofas, papers strewn over the coffee table and across the bed, or out searching markets and shops for fabrics, coming back and pinning them on boards and laying them out beside her sketches; but when Antoine was there, he had her complete devotion. She always wanted him to know that he was the one person she would drop anything for.
He finished the rest of his drink in one large gulp and placed the glass back down. ‘I have dinner reservations for us at eightp.m.,’ he said, before glancing down at her.
‘With business associates?’ she asked, stroking her fingers up and down his back.
‘For the two of us,’ he replied, softening again beneath her touch.
‘I’d like to cook for you, Antoine,’ she said. ‘Or perhaps we could just eat cheese tonight and drink wine in bed?’ She said the last part with a suggestive raising of her eyebrows. ‘Or of course we could go for dinner, and then you could stay the night? I’ve been rather lonely without you.’
She longed to have him in bed with her for an entire evening, instead of him slipping away in the dark. What she hated the most was when she fell asleep and then woke, stretching out her leg and expecting to connect with his soft skin, only to find the sheets on the other side of the bed empty and cold. When she’d been married to Théo, she’d longed to have time to herself, to not have him constantly pawing at her and wanting her body. But with Antoine, she always gave herself to him willingly, loving nothing more than having his hands on her bare skin.
‘I can’t stay tonight,’ he said, ‘it would be difficult to explain away. You know that, Evelina. Please don’t make it harder for me than it needs to be. You know I hate not being with you.’
He clearly saw the sadness pass over her face, because he kissed her eyelids and wrapped her in his arms. His sigh was loud, as if he’d immediately regretted his words.
‘Perhaps I could pretend that I have a business trip next week?’ he said. ‘Maybe even next weekend? We could stay here for a night, or even check into the Ritz for a night or two of decadence, just the two of us, for forty-eight hours.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘The Ritz?’ Evelina beamed at him, barely believing what he was suggesting. ‘I think that sounds perfect. Although you know, I may never want to let you go if we spend so long together.’
‘If there was any other way,’ he murmured against her hair, drawing her close. ‘You know where I truly want to be, Evelina. That will never change.’
She knew he would leave his wife if he could, but she also knew all too well herself how complicated marriages could be, how intertwined business and relationships were to one’s life. She’d been fortunate in that she’d had leverage to walk away from Théo—not unscathed by any means, but at least able to rebuild. She didn’t know if Antoine would have that luxury. Mostly she was happy with their relationship and the time they spent together; it meant they made the most of every moment, but sometimes she lost herself to feeling alone and wishing she was a bigger part of his life. Although he hadn’t exactly tried very hard to hide her when they went out for dinner or drinks.
‘I love you, Evelina,’ he said, cupping her face and smiling down at her. ‘I knew when we met that you were like no other woman I’d ever encountered before.’
She’d never had any reason to doubt what he told her, and she basked in his praise and his affections. Antoine had promised her that he would ensure everyone in Paris knew her name and saw her designs, that women would covet her clothes and fall in love with each of her collections, and so far he’d done exactly that. She had a beautiful apartment that he’d bought for her, a career that she could only have dreamed of as a small girl, and the most magical city in the world on her doorstep—she had the best of everything. And best of all, she had Antoine.
Now, as they stood together, he reached into his pocket and took out a robin’s egg-blue box. Tiffany’s . She would have recognised that colour anywhere. Evelina’s heart skipped a beat.
‘A present?’ she asked. ‘For me?’
‘If we’d met at another time, my darling, it would have been a small box holding a large diamond,’ Antoine said, so earnestly that she touched her palm to her heart as he spoke. ‘I would have proposed to you the week we met, to make sure you would always be mine. There is not a doubt in my mind that it would have been so. I wish you could see yourself as I see you, Evelina.’
Tears pricked her eyes as she listened to his words, as he slowly opened the box to reveal a sparkling diamond tennis bracelet. Her husband had bought her extravagant gifts, but this was something else, and it meant so much because it was from Antoine.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she gasped. ‘Oh, Antoine, it’s absolutely gorgeous.’
‘And so are you, Evelina,’ he said. ‘I will pamper you for the rest of your life, if you let me. This apartment, all the gifts I can find for you, my heart ,’ Antoine paused. ‘It’s all yours, my love. My clever, beautiful Evelina. Together, we will be unstoppable.’
She held out her wrist and let him clasp the diamonds around it, turning her arm ever so slightly so that it sparkled beneath the lights, so she could admire it. She ignored the little voice in her head that said he was only making such a fuss of her because her designs were selling so well and making him so much money. But she shook the thought away. He wasn’t like Théo. Antoine loves me. He would be giving me this gift regardless . Antoine was the love of her life, and she simply needed to let go of her past, to not let her father and her former husband taint her relationship with him. Antoine understood who she was, and instead of trying to stifle her or change her, he embraced her ambition and talents.
‘If I could spend every night with you, Evelina, I would.’
She melted. Antoine was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, the partner she’d yearned for, the man she’d believed she deserved when she’d been with Théo. If she could only have half of him, then so be it. She could be content with that.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if he’d ever leave his wife, if marriage might be something she could hope for one day even in the distant future, but it was their one rule, the only one, which he’d asked her to keep when they’d first started seeing each other, and she didn’t want to break it, not now. They never talked about his wife or his family, instead pretending when they were together that she was the only woman in his life. Sometimes questions lingered in her mind and were almost impossible to ignore, but in truth, she didn’t want to hear his answers, preferring to exist in the little bubble they’d created together, and so she always held her tongue.
If he said he loved her more than he loved anyone else, then who was she to question his devotion?
‘Come to me, ma chérie,’ he whispered, his voice husky as he held out his hand.
Evelina went willingly into his arms, her lips meeting his, his hands finding her waist as she slipped her arms around his neck and sighed contentedly against his mouth.
A week later, Evelina stretched out in bed, her toes pointed, and for the first time, her heart fluttered and her breathing slowed. Antoine is still here . She was careful not to wake him as she moved across the sheets to get closer to him, sliding her arm around him and gently placing her head to his chest.
When they’d first met, she’d thought she’d like not having to see him all the time, craving her own space and having time to do her work. Or perhaps she’d been lying to herself, and she’d only been happy because she’d believed that it was a mere matter of time before he left his wife for her and moved in. But the longer they were together, she realised that he was never, ever going to leave his wife. His heart might be hers, but his marriage meant something to him that she wasn’t privy to.
‘Good morning, beautiful,’ he murmured, as she skimmed her leg across his, listening to the steady beat of his heart as she kept her cheek to his chest.
‘Good morning,’ she whispered in reply.
‘I don’t know why we haven’t done this more often,’ he said, lazily kissing her hair and drawing her even closer. ‘I think I’ll have to go on many, many more business trips this year.’
She didn’t bother agreeing with him—she was fairly certain her feelings on the matter were obvious.
‘I don’t think we’ll leave the hotel suite all weekend, if that suits you,’ Antoine said, as he sat up a little in bed, the soft, oversized pillows cushioned behind him. He pulled Evelina up with him, and she tugged the sheet to cover her breasts, suddenly self-conscious. They’d pulled the thick drapes the night before, but there was a gap that had allowed the morning light to stream into the room, and she wasn’t used to him seeing her first thing in the morning. Usually every time he saw her she was coiffed and made-up, not tousled from sleep.
‘I think we should order coffee in bed,’ she said with a sigh. ‘And croissants for after.’
Antoine laughed. ‘After what, exactly?’
Evelina smiled up at him. ‘Call room service and order me coffee, and maybe you’ll find out.’
There was so much she still didn’t know about him—what his routine was each morning when he woke, how he drank his morning coffee, whether he liked to read the newspaper to start the day. She shuddered to think of him waking up beside his wife, but told herself they might well have separate bedrooms, as so many married couples did. His wife must know he had a mistress, otherwise how could he explain away all the late nights, returning home smelling of another woman’s perfume, bleary-eyed as he let himself in, in the early hours of the morning.
Evelina pushed thoughts of his wife away when he rose from the bed to use the telephone. She really needed to stop thinking about her. She watched him as he moved, the way he stretched and then spoke so directly into the phone, a man used to getting what he wanted, to having his orders obeyed the moment he spoke them. She stood while he still had his back turned, taking the sheet with her and wrapping it around herself, collecting one of his cigarettes on her way past. She lit it and took a gentle puff, before going up behind Antoine, her arms wrapping around him as he put down the phone, offering him the cigarette. He took it, turning with it in his mouth, his eyes searching hers.
‘The coffee will be ten minutes,’ he said.
Evelina took his hand and feigned confidence, the sheet pooling around her ankles as she led him back to the bed. They only had the weekend, and she intended on making the most of every minute. When he wasn’t with her, she wanted it to be impossible for him to stop thinking of her. It was the only way she could live with their being parted.