Chapter 20

20

PRESENT DAY

Blake sat cross-legged on the bed and eagerly took another slice of cheese and fresh bread from Henri. They’d bought what they needed for the evening at a quaint little market after viewing the rose gardens, and now they were happily tucked up in their room, drinking rosé from water glasses to wash down their food.

It was the most unlikely setting for a romantic night, but in Blake’s mind, it couldn’t have been more perfect.

‘How do you feel?’ Henri asked. ‘Can you be content with what you’ve discovered? If this is it?’

She considered her answer. ‘I think so. I mean, I’ll always have questions about how she ended up in London, who the father was, why she was alone, all those things. But on the other hand, what I was most interested in was finding out who Evelina was.’

‘You have enough for the articles you’re writing?’

‘I do. I think, even though so much is left unknown, that there’s enough for me to turn it into something special, especially as I do more research about her designs.’

Henri held up the bottle of wine and she nodded, holding out her glass. They were going back to his family’s chateau in the morning, deciding to enjoy a few more days there before returning to Paris, and she was grateful to have some more time with him.

‘But there’s something I keep coming back to, even though I’m sure it’s nothing.’

‘What is it?’ he asked, as he sipped his wine.

‘There are so many clues that point towards this shop, Les Galeries Renaud,’ she said, reaching for her phone as she spoke. ‘If I hadn’t found out so much about Evelina today, I almost feel as if that’s where I would have ended up looking for clues.’

Blake opened Google on her phone and typed in Les Galeries Renaud.

‘It’s understandable that you’re curious, but I would imagine the name keeps coming up because it was the only true department store in Paris then. It would have been the primary destination for designer clothes.’

‘And perfumes?’ Blake asked.

‘And perfumes,’ Henri agreed.

‘This is the man your mother mentioned, Antoine Renaud,’ she said, holding out the phone for Henri to see.

‘Yes, that’s him. He began with a very successful business, but he was the one who truly turned it from a family business into an empire.’

Blake held the phone closer to her eyes, staring at Antoine Renaud. She even enlarged the picture, feeling the oddest connection to him, but she couldn’t tell if it was real or her mind wanting to see something. After everything they’d learnt today, perhaps she was just desperate to piece the rest of the puzzle together.

‘You don’t think he could have been involved with my great-grandmother, do you?’ she asked, tracing her fingers over his photo and imagining that he could be the last part of her mystery that needed to be solved.

Henri shrugged. ‘He was married well before your great-grandmother would have given birth to your grandmother, and he had a family of his own. It would be, how should I say, difficult to ask the question if you went searching.’

‘You’re right,’ Blake said, throwing her phone down on the bed. ‘I just keep wondering if I’ve looked hard enough. If there’s not something I’ve missed.’

‘I think you’ve discovered what your great-grandmother wanted you to discover,’ Henri said, leaning forward and pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her mouth. ‘You know who she is and what she achieved, and surely that’s the most important thing of all? She left those clues to lead your grandmother to her, not to anyone else, and that’s exactly where they led you.’

‘You’re right, of course you’re right.’

Henri stroked her hair and she leaned into him, suddenly realising how little time they had left together.

‘I’m going to miss you,’ she said, blurting it out before she had time to stop herself. ‘Somehow I feel like we’ve known each other for such a long time, and yet a week ago…’

He smiled, reaching out and catching her hand. ‘I’m going to miss you, too.’

‘At least you have your exhibition to look forward to,’ she said. ‘You must be so excited about opening it to the public.’

‘It’s been so long in the making that I’ve started overthinking everything, but having this time off with you, it’s been good. It’s given me some perspective.’

‘Well, I’m pleased to hear it. I was starting to feel as if I was distracting you from your work.’

‘Not at all,’ he said, as he traced his fingertips over the back of her hand. ‘It was exactly what I needed.’

Their eyes met and Blake took a sip of her wine before leaning over to place her glass on the bedside table, beside Evelina’s little wooden box. Henri did the same, as well as taking their little mess of food and placing it on the floor.

When he sat back down on the bed, she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him as if it were for the last time, trying to commit every part of him to memory and wishing that theirs had been more than a summer romance, that they’d had a chance to make it something more.

Henri’s touch was tender as he lowered them both back into the pillows, his eyes holding hers as he stared down at her, as she reached up and touched the edge of his smile and then ran her fingers through his hair.

She’d been lying when she’d said she was going to simply miss him.

For the first time in her life, Blake felt as if she knew what it would be like for a man to break her heart.

Later that night, Blake woke and quietly slipped from beneath Henri’s outstretched arm, and then from the bed, grateful she hadn’t woken him. She went to the window and stared out at the few street lights, the view so different from Paris or the chateau, but still quaint nonetheless. If only I’d brought my sketchbook . The truth was that she’d left it behind on purpose, not wanting Henri to see her designs. He was so experienced in the fashion world, and she feared how unpolished and untrained they might appear to him.

She leaned against the glass, her forehead pressed to the cold surface as she shut her eyes and imagined her pencil between her fingers and what she’d draw if she could. Ever since finding out Evelina’s name, it was as if the connection to her great-grandmother, and in turn her ability to sketch, had resurfaced. And for the first time, she could think about her grandma without feeling as if she were still mourning her after all these years. But she also wondered if Céline had been a part of it. Meeting her had reminded Blake of the dreams she’d once had, of how much she’d once lived and breathed design, and it had also made her realise how much she missed it.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation she and Céline had shared the night before. She had been on the bed, her sketchbook open, her pencil moving back and forth as she found her rhythm again. It was like flexing a muscle that hadn’t been used in some time, but the longer she tested it out, the more it all came flooding back to her.

‘Knock, knock.’

Blake had looked up to find Céline standing there, leaning into the door frame.

‘May I?’ she asked.

‘Of course.’ Blake had gone to close the book but Céline sat down on the bed beside her and covered her hand to stop her from doing it.

‘Let me see what you’ve been working on.’

‘It’s nothing, they’re just some old sketches I was looking through. I haven’t designed in years, and?—’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself,’ Céline said, as she flipped through the pages. ‘How long ago did you draw these designs?’

‘A decade ago, some even more,’ she said. ‘After my grandmother died, it was as if I lost my creativity, and then life became serious and I just forgot about my own dreams, I suppose.’

‘You wanted to work in fashion?’ Céline asked.

‘I did. I mean, I suppose I still do, but I also love the job I have. But something about going on this journey has brought up all my old feelings, I guess. It’s made me wonder what career I could have had, if I hadn’t had to get a job to support my family.’

‘The best thing about dreams,’ Céline said, as she stood, ‘is that they never disappear. And we’re never too old to make them come true.’

Blake looked up at her and returned her smile.

‘Sometimes it’s just about seizing the opportunity when the time is right, and from what I’ve read about you, you’ve already been very successful in your career to date. That means that when the time comes, I have every confidence you’ll make the right decision.’

‘You like my work?’ Blake asked.

‘Let’s just say that I’m waiting with bated breath, like the rest of your readers, for the next instalment.’

Céline grinned and Blake laughed, embarrassed but also flattered that she’d been reading her articles. She set the sketchbook aside and decided to go and find Henri, hoping he was still sitting outside enjoying a drink with his stepfather.

Now, as Blake looked over to where Henri lay on the bed, her heart swelled. He and his family had given her so much since she’d arrived in France. She had no clue how she’d ever repay them, and leaving them now felt as if she was leaving behind a part of herself.