Chapter 24

24

PRESENT DAY

Blake sat with Céline and Henri outside, overlooking the magnificent grounds of their chateau. The sun shone brightly, although they were tucked beneath a pergola thick with a leafy-green vine to stay cool, and despite how much she’d enjoyed Provins, she was grateful to be back. She also couldn’t believe how quickly their weekend was turning into a week, although she wasn’t about to complain.

‘I feel as though I’ve discovered so much over the past few days, but also somehow nothing at all,’ Blake said. ‘I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s as if I have even more questions now than I had before we started. I just wish that there was someone who could give me the answers I need, that I could just piece together how she came to leave my grandmother. But I’m starting to realise that I probably never will.’

‘Well, perhaps this might help,’ Céline said. ‘It won’t give you the answers you’re searching for, but it does give you another connection to the past. Something to cherish as part of your heritage.’

Céline reached beneath her chair and presented Blake with a box. Blake glanced at Henri, but he seemed none the wiser.

‘Open it,’ Céline urged, her smile telling Blake that it was something she’d like. ‘I’ve been waiting to see your face since it arrived this morning.’

Blake untied the string around the box and opened the lid, finding a dress nestled in tissue paper. When she lifted it, there was a faint musty smell, as if the garment had been in storage for many years.

‘This is one of the dresses designed by your great-grandmother,’ Céline said. ‘I made some calls as soon as you told me about Evelina, on the very first day you and Henri arrived, and after exhausting my contacts, I was able to find this in the archives of an acquaintance. The best thing about my previous job is that there are designers all over France who owe me a favour, and I’m always more than happy to call one in, for the right reasons.’

Blake shook her head in wonder as she parted the tissue paper and carefully took the dress out, holding the soft fabric in her hands. ‘I can’t believe you found this. It’s exquisite.’ A little part of her felt disappointed that it wasn’t the dress from the sketch, even though it would have been almost impossible for Céline to find the exact one from the clue. This dress was similar in style, but made from silk and with a higher neckline, but when she stood to hold it out properly, against her own frame, she could see how feminine the silhouette was.

‘From what I understand, this was from the collection she produced at the height of her career, which makes it very special. I thought that having one of her pieces might bring you some degree of closure,’ Céline said. ‘Apparently, it was originally purchased from the department store Les Galeries Renaud that, from what I confirmed today, was the exclusive stockists of Evelina’s designs, at least in the earlier years.’

‘Thank you, Céline. This truly means the world to me.’ Blake couldn’t believe it. ‘I don’t know how I can ever thank you.’

Céline waved her hand. ‘I didn’t uncover much more than you already know, and after all these years things can become exaggerated, of course. But when I pressed to find out what had happened to Evelina, or who she was connected with, it seemed as if she simply left Paris one day and vanished into thin air.’

‘Which I suppose ties in with her returning to Provins so unexpectedly after all that time,’ Henri said. ‘It sounded very much as if she suddenly came back after many years of not being seen in the area.’

‘Or could it be that she disappeared from Paris to have her baby?’ Blake said. ‘My grandmother?’

‘I was also sent this,’ Céline said. ‘It’s a copy of a letter that the Renaud family had kept on file. It seems that Antoine Renaud was fastidious at keeping records.’

‘What is it?’ Blake asked as she reached for it, her eyes immediately scanning the page. She looked up and saw that both Henri and Céline were watching, as if waiting for her to read it out loud. ‘It’s dated September 1939, which if I’m not mistaken is the month the war began.’

‘Read it to us,’ Henri said.

‘It is with great sadness that I share my decision to set down my pencil now that war has been announced. I cannot possibly continue to design extravagant dresses during a time of such upheaval…’ As Blake continued to read the letter aloud, her heart sank, thinking about how difficult this decision must have been for Evelina.

‘It sounds to me as if she left Paris twice then,’ Henri said. ‘Once to have your grandmother, using the war as an excuse when many other designers would have stepped away from their work anyway, and again soon after the war, perhaps?’

‘I agree. But it is strange that she wasn’t deeply connected to others in the fashion world at that time, that someone wasn’t aware of what happened to her after she left Paris for the second time,’ Céline said. ‘It seems as if she arrived in the city as an unknown, and left Paris in much the same way. She was the name on everyone’s lips for a short time, and then, suddenly, she wasn’t. It is a fickle industry, though, so perhaps I shouldn’t be so surprised.’

‘Well, thank you for this. I still can’t believe you were able to source it, or that anyone had even held on to something from her collection. I will treasure this forever, and I know my sister will love it, too.’

‘It was my pleasure, Blake, but there is actually something you could do for me.’

Blake looked up, still holding the dress, the box resting on her lap as she waited for Céline to continue.

‘After you showed me your designs the other night, it made me think that you’d be the ideal intern to work with me at Céline Toussaint. I know you’re very experienced in your current position, but I don’t think it would take long for you to progress into a much bigger role. I feel like this would be a good starting point for you within the industry and, as we discussed, sometimes it’s a matter of seizing the opportunity when it comes along.’

‘As a fashion intern?’ She asked. Céline’s personal intern?

‘You’ve told me how much you love fashion, and I think you have the talent I’m looking for.’ Céline laughed. ‘And maybe it makes sense to hire the great-granddaughter of a famous French fashion designer. Those types of talents usually run in the family.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Blake said, catching her bottom lip beneath her teeth as she tried not to grin. ‘Other than thank you, of course. I’m flattered you even thought to consider me.’

Henri stood abruptly, running his hand through his hair. She’d never seen him appear so agitated.

‘Maman, we need a moment in private,’ he said. ‘Blake, would you please excuse us?’

‘Henri, this is not something I need your permission for,’ Céline said, waving her hand in the air as if to dismiss him, and certainly not making a move to join him. ‘If I want to offer Blake the job, I will. You don’t get to choose who my right hand is.’

Henri gave Blake a look that she wasn’t sure how to interpret, but it was clear he wasn’t happy as he stormed away from them and back into the house. She wasn’t sure why, but she had the sense to tread carefully. Very, very carefully.

‘Thank you, Céline, I’m truly honoured, I am,’ Blake said. ‘But may I have the day to think about it? I know that I’d love the work, but there are so many things I’d have to consider before taking a job in Paris. My family, for one, and of course my current job in London.’

Céline leaned forward and patted her knee. ‘You can take all the time you need. But don’t let my son influence your decision.’ She lowered her voice. ‘He just doesn’t like it when I make decisions without him. I find that men often like to think they run the show, but I can assure you, they don’t.’

Blake thanked her again and looked back down at the dress, running her fingers across the impossibly soft fabric. It truly was a miracle, and if nothing else, she would always have this dress as a way to honour the past, and that meant the world to her.

‘Blake, you will think about it, won’t you?’ Céline asked.

‘I promise, I will.’

She carefully packed the dress back into the box and stood, thanking Céline again and giving her a quick hug, before going off in search of Henri. She stopped on the way to put the box in her room, and to her surprise found Henri sitting on her bed, her design notebook in his hands.

‘All this time, you’ve been sketching designs to show my mother? Just waiting for the right moment to impress her?’

Blake blinked at him, seeing how angry he was from the vein pulsing on his forehead. ‘I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, Henri, but what you have in your hands is a sketchbook that I’ve had since my childhood. I brought it with me because I wanted to remember that part of myself, to try to find that creative part of me that’s been missing all these years, and for the first time since I was a teenager, I’ve begun drawing again.’ She exhaled, as if she’d been holding her breath for too long. ‘You can say whatever you like, but I finally feel like myself again, and I’m not going to apologise for that. I’ve done nothing wrong.’

‘You make it sound as if you didn’t plan this.’

She set down the box and folded her arms across her chest. ‘Plan what, exactly?’

‘Tell me the truth, Blake. Did you come to Paris with the hope of meeting my mother? Is that why you sought me out, just to get to her? Was it all an act when you seemed so surprised to meet her when we arrived?’

‘Did I, I’m sorry, what ?’ Blake laughed. She actually laughed because the entire conversation was so ridiculous, yet it was blatantly obvious from the look on Henri’s face that he wasn’t finding it amusing at all.

When she saw that he was waiting for her to answer, she went to him and sat down on the bed beside him. She had no idea where all this anger and distrust had come from—it certainly wasn’t reflective of the man she’d spent the past week with.

‘No, Henri, I did not come to France to meet your mother. I came here to meet you ,’ she said, gently, before taking the book from his hands. ‘I came to meet you, to discover who my great-grandmother was, end of. I had no idea who your mother even was, and I’m sorry I didn’t mention that I used to fancy myself as a designer. Being in Paris, learning about Evelina, it’s made me dream all over again, that’s all.’

‘Then why did you show her this? I find it hard to believe that she just happened to see it. It’s too much of a coincidence.’ He ran his fingers through his hair, just as he had earlier when they’d been with Céline.

‘Henri, you’re overthinking this,’ she said, placing a hand on his leg. ‘Your mother came past my room the night before we went to Provins. You were sitting outside having a drink with Benoit, and she asked to see what I was working on. There is nothing more to it than that.’

‘I’ve been fooled once, Blake,’ he said, standing and beginning to pace the room. ‘I am not going to be made a fool of again.’

‘This is all because your mother offered me a job?’ she asked. ‘You think I somehow orchestrated that? That I’ve been playing a game with you to get to her?’

‘I think that you knew exactly who I was when we met, and you waited until just the right moment to let my mother know that you wanted to work with her.’

‘Okay, Henri, now you’re being ridiculous,’ she said. ‘If you truly feel that way, then there’s no point in even having this conversation. I’m here because I like you, Henri, and it just so happens that I like your family, too. I can’t help it if your mother enjoyed my company, and I won’t apologise for making a connection with her. In fact, I thought you’d be thrilled that I got on so well with her and Benoit, but it seems I’ve misread the situation.’

‘I think it would be best if you made plans to leave,’ he said abruptly. ‘I’m heading back to the city the day after tomorrow, and?—’

‘It’s fine, I’ll arrange my own transport,’ Blake said, fighting tears. Where had her chivalrous, easy-going lover gone? She barely recognised the man standing in front of her. ‘I certainly have no intention of overstaying my welcome, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

Henri stood in front of her, and she wondered if his hesitation would turn into an apology, but it didn’t.

‘I had a wonderful time with you in here and in Provins, Henri,’ she said, ready to pour her heart out to make sure he knew that she most definitely hadn’t been using him. ‘I’ll never forget the time we’ve spent together, and I’m sorry if you think I was with you for any reason other than the fact that I genuinely fell for you. Because whatever you’re thinking, it couldn’t be further from the truth.’

Henri didn’t move, but he didn’t turn away either, so she stepped towards him, hoping that his body would soften, that he’d realise immediately what a fool he’d been. If he’d been hot-tempered and quickly apologised, she could forgive him for the way he’d acted. Blake pressed a warm kiss to his lips, hoping he’d return it; but although Henri’s lips moved against hers, as soon as it was over he turned and left the room, leaving her standing there.

Alone.

Blake didn’t know what to do. Thirty minutes later she was still standing in her room, looking at all her things and wondering if she should just start packing, or go after Henri and demand that he listen to her. What he’d suggested was ridiculous at best, and despite their summer fling coming to a natural close with her leaving France, she didn’t want it to end like this.

She also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Céline’s job would have meant she didn’t have to leave France at all, although she knew it was a pipe dream at best to even think she could stay there. She had a life in London, and as wonderful as the trip had been, France wasn’t home—London was.

But when she walked out to find Henri, stepping out onto the patio to look for him, she heard the crunch of tyres over gravel. By the time she glanced out over the long driveway leading away from the chateau, all she could see were the tail-lights of Henri’s car.

‘You look like a girl in need of a drink.’

Blake turned and found Henri’s stepfather standing there. She’d liked Benoit from the moment she’d met him—he was incredibly warm and relaxed. From what she could understand, he’d retired from his career some years earlier to help Céline grow her business, and was his wife’s greatest cheerleader. She liked that about him, that he was prepared to exist behind the scenes without taking any credit for how successful Céline was.

‘You read my mind,’ she said, happily taking the glass of chilled white wine he offered. She wondered why he’d come with two drinks, but guessed that his stepson driving away at high speed was an indicator that she had been left adrift.

‘Henri has always been quick to temper,’ Benoit said, gesturing for her to sit with him. ‘And it’s always been very hard to gain his trust.’

She did so gratefully, sinking into the large outdoor chair across from him and tucking her legs beneath herself for comfort.

‘When I first met him as a young teenager, it’s fair to say that he wasn’t impressed by me. I had to work very hard to get him to trust me, but once he did, we became as close as a father and son could be,’ Benoit said. ‘He is very protective of his mother, and what she’s created, which is why it was so hard for him to let me close. But I found that letting him go when he was angry, and then always being there when he returned, showed him that I was prepared to stay, no matter what. That I was as loyal to his mother as he was himself.’

‘So, you suggest I leave him be?’ she asked. ‘And wait for his return?’

‘Well, it depends what angered him in the first place. Although I don’t expect you to share.’

Blake took a sip of the wine. ‘Your wife offered me a job, which came as a complete surprise to me, but he seemed to think I’d come here with some kind of motive.’

‘Ah, well, now it all makes sense.’

Her eyebrows rose. ‘It does?’

Benoit took another sip of his wine before setting it down and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘Three years ago, Henri was engaged to a beautiful young woman. He’d met her by chance at a restaurant,’ he said. ‘And he fell in love with her very quickly—they were engaged within six months. For a boy who’d dated many women but fallen for none, this came as a surprise to us all, but he wouldn’t listen to anyone who told him he was moving a bit too fast.’

Blake nodded, imagining what Henri must have been like then, so head over heels in love, so trusting.

‘But soon after, the engagement ended. Henri realised that she had organised their entire relationship to meet Céline and become part of her world. At the time, you see, Céline was still editor at Vogue , and Henri’s fiancée wanted an opening into the industry. I think she saw herself as becoming indispensable to my wife, rather than to my son.’

‘So, she was seeing him simply to get to Céline? The entire thing was a charade?’

‘It was hard for him having such an influential mother in his younger years, and sometimes it still is,’ Benoit said, nodding. ‘Henri is fiercely protective of her, of our whole family, really, so I would say that when Céline offered you the job, he simply saw history repeating itself. He would have questioned how he’d met you, whether this was your plan all along, whether you ever even had feelings for him.’

‘I can’t believe he’d think that of me. I mean, I understand what you’re telling me, but still, it’s awful to think that he’d consider me capable of that, when it couldn’t be further from the truth.’

Benoit sighed. ‘Neither can I, but then I trust much more easily than Henri does. I have never been intimidated by who Céline is, and I came into this relationship with my own financial means, which alleviated some of the initial concerns Henri may have had. He’s grown up seeing how hard his mother worked to achieve everything she’s accomplished, so when you think of it that way, it’s easier to understand his reaction.’

Blake sipped her drink and looked out at the magnificent French countryside. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen before, and in some ways, she found it even more intoxicating than being in the city. It broke her heart to think that she would be leaving so soon; that this might be the last time she sat, as the sun lowered in the sky, and looked out at this view.

‘I knew who Céline was before I came to France—I work in journalism, after all. Everyone in my industry knows of the infamous Céline Toussaint, editor of Vogue Paris . She changed an iconic magazine in ways that no one else would have been brave enough to do, so he’s right in thinking that I’m in awe of what she did, and continues to do.’ Her eyes met Benoit’s. ‘But I can tell you in all honesty that I didn’t know the connection when I met Henri. It wasn’t until I arrived here, at your chateau, that I realised who he was, or who his mother was, I should say.’

‘Some of the boldest decisions Céline made when she was at the helm, especially in her last years at Vogue , were thanks to Henri,’ Benoit said. ‘He was also the one who encouraged her to build her own brand, who convinced Céline that she was the brand and that she had something worthy of turning into a company.’

‘Which is why he is CEO of the company?’ Blake asked.

‘Precisely. My stepson is CEO, my wife is creative director. Usually that works, but sometimes it doesn’t.’

‘What does that make you then?’ Blake asked, as he theatrically took a large gulp of wine.

‘Peacemaker! For all their arguments! I am always the one in the middle trying to cool things down. More often wine works better than my soothing words, though, if I’m brutally honest. Hence my decision to go and get a bottle when I heard Henri drive away.’

They both laughed. Blake could only imagine how many arguments Henri and his mother had. They both seemed to have very strong opinions when it came to the business.

‘Working for Céline would be a dream come true for me,’ Blake confessed. ‘Both from a journalism perspective, and also fashion. I’ve never even considered that such an opportunity could be presented to me.’

‘Then take the job,’ Benoit said with a shrug, as if it were that simple.

‘I don’t think Henri would ever trust me, or ever forgive me, if I did.’

Benoit was silent for a long time, staring out at the landscape, before finally turning to her as she nursed her glass of wine.

‘Sometimes we have to make difficult decisions. We can’t control how others will act or think, so we have to make the decision for ourselves. It’s not selfish to put yourself first sometimes, and who knows? Over time my stubborn stepson may realise just how wrong he was.’

Blake sipped her wine, nodding even though she had no right to pretend that she agreed with him. She’d spent her entire life pleasing others, making decisions based on others; putting herself last. Being selfish simply wasn’t in her DNA. Besides, how could she even consider doing something that might drive a wedge between Henri and his mother? She might not agree with the way he’d treated her or how he’d reacted, but she did understand now that she’d heard about his previous relationship. She knew what it was like to hold on to something from the past and not be able to move past it.

‘Benoit, thank you for the wine,’ she said at length. ‘I’ve enjoyed every second of my time at your beautiful chateau. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here.’

He frowned. ‘You sound very much like you’re saying goodbye. Please tell me you’re not leaving?’

Blake touched his arm on the way past, not trusting her voice to reply as emotion rose in her chest, and hoping that he would understand.

She’d known that leaving France wasn’t going to be easy; she just hadn’t expected to be going home with a broken heart.