15. Luc
15
LUC
I stood at the corner of the winery building, shifting from foot to foot. Had my suggestion to get to know each other away from the house been the wisest? The chateau gave our arrangement a sense of formality, more of a businessy-feel. Disappearing into the woods with the woman who kept creeping into my thoughts sounded like the complete opposite.
I’d hoped that one dinner and a kiss would be enough to convince my grandmother to give me the space to decide my future. But then she actually liked Iris, finding herself charmed by my yodelling, alpaca heiress.
Continuing with the lie seemed like madness, and I had almost decided to come clean, even if it meant losing Marsan. But then my sunshiny fake fiancée wandered into the pool area for a second time and lifted her dress high above her head.
Seeing her—so unapologetic, so free, so beautiful—ignited a fire in my chest that I hadn’t been able to quash since.
Against all my instincts, I’d asked her to help me again. And then I showed her my paintings—something I’d never done before. Thanks to my father, I kept that part of me hidden, locked away .
A rustling down the path stole my attention, followed by a loud, “Shit! Bloody shoes.”
I chuckled to myself and straightened up as Iris appeared, fighting her way through the fronds of an old willow tree. Her cheeks were pink, and she’d tied her hair over one shoulder in a thick braid. She wore the same sundress Apollo chewed, and she carried one of her weird rubber shoes in her hand. As a result, dirt covered her right foot.
As soon as she reached the gravel path, she wedged her shoe back on and gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I thought I’d take the scenic route. I figured it would be quicker, but I didn’t realise how wild some areas of your garden are. I got my foot stuck in a boggy patch. The plants near the house are in neat rows. It’s a jungle down here.”
I ran my eyes over her face as she wiped a glow of perspiration from her forehead. She looked incredible. Like a woodland creature. So alive, so vibrant. “Thank you for coming. I realise you may have had other plans.”
Iris shook her head. “Oh, you know, a little flower arranging, planning some charity events, yodelling.”
Her wicked smile made my toes curl.
“Nothing that couldn’t wait,” she continued. “Besides, you’re right. If we’re going to convince people we’re really engaged, we should take things a bit more seriously. So, what are we doing?”
Aside from lying to my family? “I thought I’d show you my favourite place down at the river.”
She glanced at the bottle in my hand and the picnic rug over my shoulder. “The river?”
“Yes. I have glasses and while we’re down there, you can wash your feet.”
Her face reddened a little, and the apples of her cheeks lifted. “Good point. Okay then, lead on.”
We weaved through the trees, heading past rows of vines and down through a small gully. Apollo snuffled through the leaves around our feet.
“I’ve never been this way before,” Iris said, stepping over an old log. “I’ve seen the water, but never sat on the bank.”
“It’s beautiful.” I held a low-hanging branch out of her way. As she stepped past, I ran my eyes over her legs, lingering at the spot where the hem of the dress met her thighs. I had to bunch my hands into fists to keep myself from reaching out. Would her skin be as smooth as it looked?
“So,” she said over her shoulder. “Where shall we start? What do we need to know about each other?”
I slipped a little on the path, holding onto a tree trunk to steady myself. It must have rained in the night. “Let’s start with something simple that requires little concentration. I’d rather not end up face first in the mud.”
She ran her eyes to my feet. “Okay. What’s your favourite colour?”
I scoffed. “Really?”
“Yes, really. The little details are important. It’s all very well me knowing your step-aunt’s cousin’s best friend’s name, but If I don’t know your favourite colour, we’ve no hope of convincing anyone we’re in love.”
“Orange.”
She glanced over her shoulder, and her breasts moved gently against the fabric of her dress. I tore my eyes away.
“I think you made that up. You don’t look like a person who’d like orange. I see you as more of a green or a grey. Something far more sensible.”
I grunted, pushing a branch out of my way. “I’m not convinced that’s a good thing. What’s your favourite colour?”
She grinned at me. “Guess.”
“Iris,” I ground out, sounding more like a schoolteacher than her fake lover.
“No, really, guess. ”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Pink?”
She giggled. “Have you ever seen me wear pink?”
“Your giant shoes are pink.”
She stopped on the path, turning towards me. She put her hands on her hips and wiggled one foot in the air; her shoe wiggled with it. “Well, you’re right. It’s a happy colour. Pink makes me smile.”
Looking at her right now, I felt the same way. “We’re here,” I said, nodding to the water sparkling through the trees ahead.
After finding a mud-free spot, I spread out the rug under the trees and took two small tumblers stacked inside my trouser pocket. Iris stood ankle deep in the water, washing her feet, while Apollo splashed about in the shallows. She bent over to tickle his ears, peering into the water with narrowed eyes.
“There are hundreds of tiny fish in here. What do you call this river?”
I sat down on the rug, kicked off my shoes, and opened the bottle of wine. “I call it my river.”
She opened her mouth, pretending to be shocked. “ We own a river?”
I curled a brow. “Technically, it’s a slice of river.”
“Does that mean you own those swans?” Iris looked into the distance, pointing ahead at a group of birds, like a sailor spotting land. “That’s how it works in the UK. The King owns the rivers and can eat all the swans on them.” She turned back to me. “But I suppose you’re not a king, so no swan-eating for you. I always thought they’d be stringy with their long necks.”
“No, Iris. I don’t eat swans.” My voice sounded harsh, like an annoyed parent whose child wanted to stay up late. I pulled up short, biting into my bottom lip. What the hell was wrong with me?
She popped on her shoes and walked over. “I’m only kidding. Okay, let’s do this. ”
I cleared a space on the rug, and she sat, legs curled underneath her body. The sun hit her nose, and its freckles reminded me of flecks on eggshells.
“I know you have horses down in the stables, and you have Apollo, but what pets did you have growing up?”
I poured two glasses of wine and replaced the stopper. “My father didn’t enjoy animals. Wouldn’t allow us pets. He had hunting dogs, but they were for sport, not children.”
Iris glanced down at Apollo on the bank. He still bounded around in the water and her nose wrinkled. “Is that why you chose the biggest hound known to man? Now that you’re in charge, I mean.”
I’d often wondered why I’d chosen a Great Dane. “Perhaps. How about you?”
Iris took a drink, then nodded. “I had a hamster. I called her Fluffy, except she turned out to be a boy. Funny little thing. He had tufted ears. I don’t think he liked me very much, though. He bit me regularly, nibbled the buttons off two remote controls, and spent all his time trying to escape.”
I huffed a laugh. “Okay, so friends. How do you know Chloe?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry about Chloe earlier. She’s the most amazing person, and I’ve known her since primary school, but she has a habit of getting carried away with things.”
“She has a zest for life?”
“Oh yes, you could call it that.”
I laid on my side, resting my head in my hand. “How did you both come to be working in the vineyard? What brought you to France?”
Iris glanced at her glass, nibbling her bottom lip. “We’ve been travelling for about six months. We started in South East Asia, and then moved to Europe. Unfortunately, someone went through our bags on a night train, and took our money. ”
“Why did you have money? Surely everything is online now?”
She winced. “Good question. We were heading to do a trek in Spain. The company offered us a good deal if we paid in cash. Only, the cash got stolen, which left us very little to travel on. Between the two of us, we couldn’t even cover the rail ticket back to London. We decided to keep going and find some casual work. We heard about grape picking in a bar in Marseilles, and well… here we are!”
“But why are you travelling? Forgive me, but you look a little older than most of our pickers.”
Iris sighed, running one finger around the top of her glass. “I needed to leave London. I needed to escape.”
My whole body tensed. “Were you in danger? Did someone hurt you?”
She smiled at me and shook her head. “No, not in the way you’re thinking. I had a long-term boyfriend. We rented a flat together, and I thought we were the real deal. Only, he didn’t seem to agree. He liked to flirt, but usually not with me. He always swore he didn’t cheat—until one day he did.”
A searing burn rose in my chest, and I held my breath, willing Iris to continue her story. Desperate to find out what this man had done to her.
She met my eyes. “One afternoon, I came home from work and found him with another woman. I’m sure you can guess the scenario.”
I growled, the burn in my chest a full sear now. I could never forgive infidelity. Iris’ bottom lip trembled, and she bit down on it, taking a breath. All I wanted was to reach out and comfort her, but she turned away.
“The worst part is, when I walked out, I owed him money. And I was in such a state I left my cat, Stuart, behind. Nathan said I could go back and collect him later, only neither Stuart nor Nathan were ever home when I tried. ”
Iris pulled her braid through her fingers. “Chloe had already convinced me to take an extended holiday—to leave my job and get away from my ex. She booked the flights, and every time I went to pick up Stuart, Nathan made excuses or shut him inside the flat. He’d changed the locks, so that I couldn’t get in. I got hold of him on the phone the day before we flew out. He begrudgingly agreed to look after Stuart until I got back.”
My gut churned. “And you were with this man?”
Iris shrugged, her braid moving against her collarbone. “I know, right? I don’t think I’m a good judge of character. Do you know the best part? He sends me random messages, teasing me about not getting Stuart back until I pay him the money I owe.”
My chest burned. “Who is this idiot? Would he actually do that? Keep your cat?”
Iris tipped her head to one side. “I don’t think so, but he certainly enjoys having power over me.” She picked a blade of grass, winding it around her finger. “And after four years with Nathan, feeling powerless terrifies me.”
I settled down and relaxed, taking a sip of wine. “Perhaps you should change your taste in men.”
My comment was off-hand, insensitive probably, and Iris’ head snapped up, her brows drawn.
“Hang on a minute. From what I’ve read, you’re no better at the relationship game. The tabloids say you’re not the biggest fan of monogamy.”
A bitter taste filled my mouth. “Don’t believe everything you read. I control what people see. I give them what they want—what they expect. And they expect me to behave badly.”
“What do you mean? Why control what they see?”
I closed my hand around my glass and swallowed. Was I really going to do this? Confess feelings I’d buried for years to a woman I hardly knew? But one look into her wide eyes sealed my fate. “Because that way, they’re not disappointed.” My voice sounded so small. As if someone else had spoken for me.
Iris giggled lightly. “How could you disappoint anyone? You’re like a celebrity.”
My teeth clamped together, and I ran a hand through my hair. “Meaning everyone has their own expectations about who I am and how I behave. Do you think I enjoy living in a gilded cage, always on display?”
She sat back and my heart lurched. Had the edge in my voice frightened her? I’d never want that.
“I hadn’t thought about it,” she murmured, wide eyes on mine. “I always assumed it would be nice to be surrounded by comfort and luxury. Knowing everyone wants to be with you or wants you to like them.”
I gritted out a wry laugh. “They don’t even know who I am. Only Esmé and Thierry really know me. Everyone else, even my sister and grandmother, sees the shiny object that is ‘Luc Du Comtois’—the person I portray. I admit, it's fun to be him sometimes, but mostly, it’s just tiring.”
Her face fell, and she watched me, her eyes narrowed. “It sounds lonely. So why not let people get to know you? I’m sure they’d be anything but disappointed.”
The skin of my palms prickled. “Even my father found me disappointing. When my mother died, he tried to toughen me up, as he would say. Papa got angry when I wanted to draw or paint or, heaven forbid, cry when I missed Maman. He called me weak, not what a Du Comtois man should be. That I embarrassed him. If he wasn’t shouting, he barely spoke to me.”
I pulled at an imaginary thread on the blanket. “Delphine, my sister, hid her emotions better than me. She and my father were close. I envied her, but nothing I did changed things, so I pushed my family away. I suppose I rebelled.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. Why bother telling her this? None of my personal woes applied to our situation, but her questions had breached a dam, and I didn’t have the power to stop the deluge.
“I’d do things to shock my father, to get his attention. The worse I behaved, the more he loved Delphine. So, I acted up again. We spun in a vicious cycle for years until, eventually, he sent me away to school. I rarely saw him after that.”
I could feel Iris’ eyes on me, but I daren’t look, terrified at what I’d find on her face. Instead, I picked up a wizened berry that had fallen onto the blanket and threw it toward the river, knowing it would never reach. “As I grew older, I became bitter. If he paid my bills, I’d spend his money and live up to his expectations. If he wanted a wicked son instead of the man who disappointed him, then that’s what he’d get.” I paused, finishing the wine in my glass. “We were never close again, and honestly, I think he hated me.”
I looked at Iris.
Her throat bobbed. “Is that why he wrote the codicil?”
“As a punishment? The ultimate act of control? I think so.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine growing up like that. But what about Thierry and Esmé? What did they do? When you were a child, I mean.”
I gave Iris a closed-lipped smile. “Thierry looked out for me as I grew up. He worked for my father, but he didn’t like him. Thierry let me hide in the winery, escape from Papa or from our nanny. He and Esmé became my real family. He taught me about life. I owe everything to that man.”
A heavy weight sat on my chest. When I came clean about the full extent of the codicil, I’d disappoint Thierry, too.
“I wish he’d been my real father, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t have been a better son to him, either.”
She looked up. “What do you mean?”
“Remember I said that if I don’t marry by the deadline, Marsan will be sold?”
She nodded, a line forming between her brows .
“The vineyard would be sold with it, and Thierry’s life’s work could be lost. And the worst thing is? He has no idea.”
Iris pushed onto the heels of her palms, and the breeze ruffled her hair. “What?”
“I’ve been too scared to tell him. In denial, head in the sand, call it what you like. But he deserves a son who’d be honest with him.”
“But you will tell him? It’s not fair otherwise.”
“I will, I promise. And soon. I suppose I’ve been trying to shield him from reality, but it’s getting harder. When it comes down to it, one of us loses. Of course, I’d prefer it wasn’t him.”
Iris sucked in a breath as if letting my words sink in. “So, you’d marry someone you didn’t love to help Thierry?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, and now, I’m not sure I can.”
Iris grimaced and sunk down onto her chest on the rug, putting her chin in her hands, her legs stretched out behind her. “If you don’t mind me asking, where were your sister and grandmother after your mother died?”
“Grand-Mère travelled for long periods of time, and Delphine? She had her own path to tread. Her responsibilities to take on with the company. I managed on my own.”
Iris studied me. Her pink lips pouted. A patchwork of emotions threaded across her face, and my heart tugged, threatening to burst from my chest. She didn’t need to hear my sorry story. I wanted us to get to know each other this afternoon, not delve into my past.
“Please don’t look at me like that. For the most part, my life is good. I’m lucky to have friends, and like you said, money. And I can’t change the past, only the future.”
After the longest beat, she spoke. “I’m so sorry about your father. Even if you had everything in the world, nobody deserves a childhood like yours.”
Her eyes burned into me, and I nodded before looking away. “Please, can we change the subject? I didn’t intend for this afternoon to be sad.”
Wordlessly, Iris flipped onto her back, gazing over the river. The dappled late afternoon sun fell on her golden hair, and I pulled in a quiet breath.
“You’ve travelled,” she said. What’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever been? What's the most beautiful thing you’ve seen?”
How could I tell her the answer lay right in front of me, winding her hair around one finger? I couldn’t. It would only add more complications to this already complicated situation. “I’ve been lucky to see many beautiful things.”
She looked at me with a smile. “I remember.”
“Sorry?”
“Upstairs in your tower. The ladies in your paintings.”
Her smile turned to a grin, and my face heated like a nervous teenager. I nodded, about to confess that I found her more beautiful than any of them, but she reached down and slapped her hand against her foot, distracting me from my thoughts.
“Ouch!” she squealed. “Little monster.” Iris clutched her ankle, rubbing it furiously.
I sat up. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, it’s just gnats. They love my blood. Chloe says I don’t have enough vitamin B. She wants me to eat more Marmite.” Iris swatted at her ankles again and tucked her feet under the edge of the rug, defending her skin.
I pushed up to standing, removing the bottle and glasses from the rug. “I’m sorry, let’s head back.” Iris stood, too, and called Apollo from the water. As she held onto his collar, I looked up through the dimming light of the canopy. How had the afternoon disappeared so fast? Time flies when you’re busy telling someone your troubles.
We wound our way through the gully in silence, stalks of bracken wrapping around our shins. As we got to the top, a flicker of flames through the trees caught my attention. I drew my brows together and stopped, turning towards the glow. “There’s a fire.” I changed direction, ready to investigate, but Iris pulled at my free hand.
“Don’t worry. It’s the pickers. This is how we spend most of our evenings. Why don’t you come and see? I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
I could think of nothing worse. The pickers and I had nothing in common. Once they knew who I was, they’d just stare at me, and judge me like everyone else. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because they work for me.”
She wrinkled her nose. “So that means you can’t talk to them?”
“When people know who I am, they treat me differently.”
She turned to face me, tipping her head to one side. “Once they get to know you better, they’ll see you’re not scary. Trust me.”
With a mischievous grin, Iris reached up and ruffled my hair before taking a step back and studying her work. “See. You look normal now.”
With the glow in her eyes and the curve of her lips, I’d go anywhere with her. She took my hand and led me through the trees to a stone pit filled with burning logs. Why had I never been down here before?
A small group of people surrounded the fire, and as we approached, all eyes turned towards us. I scanned the faces, the flickering flames lighting them with amber. A man strummed on a guitar, and Iris’ friend, Chloe, sat beside him, drinking from a glass of wine. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw us.
“Hi, everyone,” said Iris as we reached the fire. “Did you have a good day? ”
People mumbled greetings, and a blond man pointed his finger at the bottle I held in my hand, speaking in a language I didn’t recognise.
“This is Henri, from the village. He works at the dairy,” said Iris, still holding my hand. “I thought I’d smuggle him in. He’s been showing me the river.”
I let go of a breath. Apart from Chloe, nobody gave me a second look. Chloe’s lips tipped up. “Nice to meet you, Henri. It’s great to have you at our humble gathering, but you better be careful if you’re trespassing. I heard our boss is a monster.”
I pulled my brows together, but Iris spoke before I could respond. “Oh, he’s not that bad. Once you get to know him.”
Chloe let out a chuckle. “How about it then, Henri? Want to join the pickers?”
Challenge etched her words, and despite Iris’ smile, my gut churned at the thought of spending an evening answering questions, even if I masqueraded as “Henri.” I bowed my head. “No, but thank you for the invitation. I have work to finish.” I turned to Iris, gently squeezing her hand before letting it go. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded, wide-eyed, but didn’t ask me to stay. I whistled and Apollo appeared from behind the bushes, snorting loudly. “Viens,” I said to him. “Come.”
With my heart in my mouth, I gave Iris one last look before leaving her with her friends.