Epilogue

EPILOGUE

PRESENT DAY

‘For a girl who’d never seen Paris six months ago, you’re certainly making up for it now.’

Blake laughed as she tucked her arm through Henri’s, dropping her head to his shoulder as they walked along the Champs-élysées. Never in a million years had she expected to be in Paris for Christmas, and if someone had told her the year before, when she’d been frantically preparing turkey and checking the plum pudding in her flat in London, she would never have believed them.

‘There are four hundred trees here,’ Henri said, leaning in to her as he spoke, ‘and apparently it takes one million bulbs to light them all like this.’

‘Do you walk down here every year?’

He laughed. ‘This is one of those things I haven’t done in years, but I feel like I’m seeing the magic of the city through fresh eyes with you.’

Blake sighed. It was perfect.

‘How long do we have until your brother and sister arrive?’

‘An hour.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I can’t believe they’re going to be here with us for Christmas. Or that I’m not the one in charge of cooking for everyone.’

Henri’s mother had not only invited them all to stay at her exquisite apartment on the Champ de Mars for Christmas, but she also had everything planned, from which rooms they’d all be staying in, what they’d be drinking and what canapés they’d be nibbling on before dinner. And Henri had promised her that despite their beautiful surroundings, dinner would be a casual affair, although it was taking place on Christmas Eve, which was new to her.

‘Before dinner, I thought we’d take them to see the display at Dior, and maybe to look at the Christmas tree at Galeries Lafayette, too. Then we must go to one of the Christmas markets. There is one that stretches almost half a mile along the gardens from the Place des Pyramides to Place de la Concorde,’ Henri said.

Blake laughed and placed a hand on his chest, stepping in front of him to stop him from walking any farther. ‘You’ve become like an excited child waiting for Santa,’ she teased. ‘But you don’t have to do all this. I’m just happy to be with you.’

‘You only get one first Christmas in Paris, Blake,’ he whispered, taking off his glove to gently stroke the hair from her face. ‘I want it to be magical.’

‘It’s already magical, Henri. Just being here, with you, it’s?—’

Her words died in her throat as he dropped to his knee on the cobbles, producing a duck-egg blue box from inside his jacket. Tiffany’s . Of course her darling Henri had been shopping at Tiffany’s for her.

‘Blake,’ he said, looking more nervous than she’d ever seen him before. ‘Will you marry me?’

Her jaw dropped open as he lifted the lid on the box. Inside was a solitaire diamond ring, and he took it and held it out to her, his sparkling blue eyes fixed on hers as he waited for her answer; an answer that she seemed incapable of producing as a small crowd gathered around them.

‘I wanted to wait until your family were here, but?—’

‘Yes,’ she finally whispered, a smile creeping across her lips as Henri slid the ring onto her finger and rose, opening his arms to her. ‘Yes, Henri. A thousand times, yes!’

She tilted her head back as his lips met hers in a kiss so tender, she could only just feel his mouth against hers. The crowd gathered around them began to clap, and Henri kissed her again, dipping her backwards and making her laugh.

There truly was nothing quite like Christmas in Paris .

‘I love you, ma chérie,’ Henri whispered.

‘Je t’aime aussi.’ I love you, too .

‘Ahh, so someone’s been secretly learning French, have they?’

Blake laughed, her cheeks flushing. ‘Only the important words.’

‘Speaking of important things, I actually have something else for you.’

She stood back as he reached inside his pocket and produced a small rectangle-shaped gift box.

‘What else do you have hidden inside that jacket of yours?’ she teased.

‘I promise you, no more surprises,’ Henri said, guiding her away from the crowds so that they could stand beneath one of the trees.

Blake slid her finger beneath the tape and opened one end, carefully unwrapping the gift. Her breath caught as she stared down at the box in her hands. It was a bottle of Ma Fille perfume.

‘How did you find this?’ she asked.

‘You forget, my job is to find rare things from the past.’

Blake threw her arms around Henri’s neck, careful to keep hold of the precious bottle. ‘Thank you. This is—I mean, I don’t know what to say.’

‘The perfume, Ma Fille, it’s my engagement present to you,’ Henri said. ‘It has been out of production for many years now, as you know, but I was able to secure the licensing rights. If you would like to make this perfume again, to honour your great-grandmother, you are free to do so.’

There wasn’t a day that had gone by that Blake hadn’t thought about this perfume, burying her nose in the small wooden box to focus on the smell. From the little she’d been able to glean since their visit to Provins, after emailing dozens of people who she’d hoped might have answers, she’d discovered that Evelina had passed away following an illness, only a short time after her first production of Ma Fille was made. It was then that the rights were sold to the Renaud family, and nobody at the company could give her any more information than she already had, other than that they presumed it was a commercial decision based on their successful relationship with Evelina in the past.

‘Henri! It’s too much, I don’t know what to say, how to thank you.’

He placed his hands on her waist and stepped closer to her. ‘Blake, you’re here with me, in Paris. You’ve already given me everything I want.’

She stared down at the bottle in her hands as tears welled in her eyes. She still didn’t truly know the story of her great-grandmother, the hardships she’d endured or the truth about how she’d ended up in a home for unmarried mothers in London, but this was a way to honour her memory regardless. And it wasn’t something she would ever take for granted.

‘Thank you, Henri. Thank you a hundred times over. This means so much to me.’

He pressed his lips to hers. ‘You’re welcome, fiancée .’

Fiancée . She smiled up at Henri and grabbed a handful of his jacket, tugging him forward. It might just be her favourite word of all time.

***