Epilogue
EPILOGUE
I swirled my feet in the pool water, luxuriating in the chill at my shins. Luc’s pool, sorry, our pool, never disappointed. I picked up my glass of champagne and took a sip, turning to Esmé. She’d joined me and we both sat on the paved side, with our dresses around our thighs, soaking up the late afternoon sun.
“I don’t know how you convinced Estelle to go along with it,” she said. “I think this is the most relaxed society wedding I’ve ever attended.”
The corners of my lips bowed. It really was. Luc and I hadn’t had to rely on the damaged codicil, after all. Four months after the opera, I asked him to marry me, and he said yes.
His birthday was in one week, and after some exhausting negotiations with Luc’s grandmother, we’d agreed—no hordes of guests that neither Luc nor I knew, no fuss, and the ceremony had to be held at Marsan. We’d attended the local town hall for our legal marriage a few days ago, but today had been all I’d dreamed of. A simple marquee, family and friends amongst the lavender, with the man I adored.
Of course, Estelle flew in her favourite chef, but after a heated discussion, I persuaded him to cook a fancy croque monsieur as the main. Luc laughingly described the entire menu as a dairy-fest. But now that I was married, I could afford some love handles.
“I’m surprised you didn’t invite the admiral to the party,” Esmé said, her eyebrows jumping. “I thought the two of you were intimate friends.”
I thought of the dinner at the opera and the mess I’d made of the old man’s clothes. Esmé had been the one who’d rescued me from inadvertently hoisting his mainsail with my napkin. The vision of him sitting on his seat with green sauce all over his groin would live with me forever. Mercifully, there were no snails on today’s menu, but I had a new respect for the ones I found in the gardens.
Esmé took her foot out of the water, letting the cool liquid run between her toes. “I can’t believe this is where the two of you met.”
I glanced around at the hedges and the old umbrella pine where I’d first spotted Luc. “It seems like a lifetime ago.”
Luc’s and my “meet-cute” had been the stuff of legends. The memory of him standing in his sopping wet shirt, glasses hanging off his ear, always made me smile. He’d been so cross, and so deliciously pouty.
I still couldn’t trust myself when he got all seductive or when he painted in his tower. I’d encouraged him to dress like a “tortured artist” more often. He’d carried the look off so well by the river. Buttoned-up shirts were so overrated. If I weren’t around, he’d probably get a lot more work done.
The sun beat down, and a loud splash and a spray of water announced Apollo’s arrival at the pool. He leapt around in the shallow end, coating both Esmé and me in drips. Luc’s giant hound really was the most adorable dog. He divided his time between Luc and me, travelling up and down from the house to the winery as if he was making sure neither of us disappeared .
He bounded up the steps and out of the water, the enormous bow around his neck dripping onto the hot pavers.
“Duck,” I said. Both Esmé and I turned our backs to him, leaning low to the concrete to escape the deluge of water that came with his shake. With the force of his giant body, he could probably water the whole garden.
He settled down behind me, and Esmé ran her fingers over his wet fur. “Where’s your cat? I don’t think I’ve seen him since the ceremony.”
I chuckled. “Stuart? I think the pink bow Chloe tied to his collar offended him. He’s probably in the garden somewhere, taking it out on the butterflies.”
Every time I found my cat hiding in the lavender or sunning himself on the terrace, my heart lifted. Luc hadn’t gone into much detail about “Operation Stuart,” as I liked to call it. He gave me the impression that Nathan had been a little terrified of Luc, and once he’d paid him off, he couldn’t have packed Stuart up fast enough. I tightened my lips. I hadn’t heard from Nathan since. Not once. Life without his sneering comments was blissful.
I turned my face into the sun. Thankfully, Esmé and Chloe hit it off immediately. They balanced each other out. Esmé’s practicality took the edge off Chloe’s crazy and, although a little disappointed, Luc hadn’t minded me stealing away his best friend.
As much as I loved having a new friend in Esmé, Chloe would always be my main partner in crime—the one who I’d turn to for advice. Without her, I wouldn’t be so happy now, or have a newfound appreciation for curtains. I’d left her in charge of decorations for the wedding, and the garden resembled a fairy glen with lanterns and muslin bows hanging on every bush.
“I suppose we should join the others,” I said, gathering the hem of my dress .
“Yes, Luc will wonder where you got to.” Esmé pulled her feet out of the water, too, her nude toenail polish shining in the sun.
“He’s probably fed up with me by now.”
A grin sprung on her lips. “Oh, please. Your husband can hardly keep his eyes off you, let alone his hands. I’ll admit it’s strange seeing him so in love. Luc always reminded me of an island.”
I tipped my head. “A little rocky around the edges?”
She huffed a laugh. “No, isolated. Distant, even. Thank you for bringing him to life.”
I touched her arm. It had been entirely the other way around. He’d revived me. But it was true, Luc had changed. The non-smiling “King of Smoulder” had become prince charming, easy in company and relaxed.
As I stood, I looked down at the creases in my dress. “Oh crap. I don’t suppose you have an iron handy? Estelle will follow me around with a clothes steamer. I never knew someone could be so fussy about outfits.”
Luc’s grandmother looked ready to attend the Oscars most days. She’d paid for my gown. I’d visited the dress maker in the village, and much to Estelle’s disappointment, I’d chosen a white satin shift, finished off with the Iris pin I’d left at the opera. I smiled. Having a simple dress would make slipping out of it much easier, later.
Esmé and I set out on the path, through the gap in the hedge and up to the house.
“How are plans for the exhibition going?” I asked. “I know Luc’s excited.” After a little persuasion, he now sold his paintings under his own name—and only through Esmé.
“Very well,” she replied. “That’s something else I need to thank you for. Now that he’s finally ‘come out’ creatively, my gallery is buzzing. I think I may finally open an additional space. ”
My heart swelled. Luc no longer saw using his own name as an invasion of his privacy or a curiosity purchase. People genuinely loved his work. Even his sister.
Delphine and her husband had come to the wedding, but unfortunately, Apollo slobbered on her new dress, and they’d left early. She’d slowly come around to the idea that I didn’t want her family’s money, but we’d never be fast friends.
Esmé and I reached the terrace, and I immediately sought Luc’s face. When he saw me, he smiled, and something flashed in his eyes. He was deep in conversation with Thierry. I climbed the steps, and his eyes followed me. Like he knew where I was at all times.
He wore his hair smartly combed, not like the more dishevelled look he favoured these days. The light from the garden cast shadows along the planes of his cheekbones, and his bright blue eyes sparkled. I ran my eyes over his suit, lingering on the way his white shirt strained against his chest. I nibbled at my bottom lip. Undressing him later would be delicious.
“What will you do now, Madame Du Comtois?” Chloe’s voice hit my ears as she stepped up behind me.
I turned and threw her an eyebrow.
“I can’t get used to your new name,” she said. “It sounds like you should waft around the chateau in a crinoline gown and parasol.”
“Never going to happen,” I chuckled. I was still a Crocs wearer at heart, even if Luc’s grandmother sent me an alarming number of shoes from her travels.
“Anyway,” she continued. “I hear your French teacher is pretty hot.”
I rolled my eyes with a giggle. “Luc?” She wouldn’t be wrong.
“No, silly, your official teacher, down in the village. Could you introduce me?”
I’d had a complete career change. No more dental nursing for me. I continued to help Thierry down in the winery. Part of my duties involved learning French. Luc had tried to teach me at first, but most of the vocabulary I’d learnt from him verged on the X-rated side.
I’d learned so much with Thierry already, and I’d signed up for a course in viticulture. Luc and I talked about me perhaps taking over the winery one day long into the future, but only with Thierry’s blessing. The old man’s laughter rang out across the terrace. He was deep in conversation with Luc and my dad.
We’d invited my parents to stay at Marsan for the wedding. I swear my mum spent most of her time with her mouth open, staring at the antiques. Estelle and Mum had struck up an odd friendship over their shared love of shoes. Dad’s interest rested solely with Luc’s cars and his wine cellar.
I looked for Luc’s grandmother. Following her shrill voice, I spotted her terrorising Agnes in a corner. I pulled in a breath. “Chlo, can you do me a favour? Can you fetch Agnes a stiff drink? I can’t run this place without her, and she looks about ready to quit.”
Chloe giggled beside me. “I see it.”
After an awkward start when I’d permanently moved in, Agnes and I had come to a kind of understanding—a begrudging respect for each other. Perhaps it had something to do with the “spontaneous” dinner party I’d organised with her and Thierry. Kind of like a double-date. Luc and I left halfway through, citing a cat-related hairball emergency. We’d sat giggling in Luc’s tower, our hearts in our mouths. The glow on Agnes’ cheeks the next morning confirmed the blossoming of a new romance at Marsan.
Chloe drained her champagne glass. “Okay—I’m going in. ‘Mission rescue Agnes’ is a go.” She set off towards the housekeeper with a grim look on her face.
I smiled, but my heart tugged at the same time. Chloe would head off travelling soon. She planned to trek through India but had promised to be back for the next picking season. I’d assured her an upgrade in accommodation, but she’d preferred to negotiate pool access rights for all the pickers instead.
As I moved to fetch a fresh drink, heat enveloped me, and a touch tickled the skin on my neck. I pulled in a breath. I’d know that kiss anywhere, that spicy kick of cologne in my nostrils. Luc.
I turned into him, and our lips met, lingering together in the heat. I could almost hear Chloe telling us to get a room, but today was our wedding day. Surely, we earned extra rights to be deliriously in love with each other.
Luc broke our kiss, giving me a brief peck on the nose. “You’ll miss Chloe, won’t you?”
I arched my brow and ran my hand around his back, under his jacket. “Yes, and I’ll probably need some distractions to keep my mind off my loss. I’m wondering, should I learn to paint? I know this great artist. He really knows how to work his brushes.”
My words and my touch had the desired effect as Luc slipped seamlessly into his smoulder suit. He brought his lips to my ear. “I know we have guests. But would they really miss us if we disappeared for a while? Perhaps that artist wants to show you how to sharpen his charcoal.”
“Check his strokes, you mean? All in the name of supporting the arts, of course. Your grandmother would be so proud of me.”
Luc grinned, then threaded his hand through mine. He led us away from the terrace, past the suits of armour in the salon, and into the hallway we shared. We used both his tower and my room to sleep. My bed was far more comfy and I had a bath. Of course, I wasn’t adverse to hanging out in Luc’s turret. I found I had quite the head for heights.
We stopped under the chandelier—the place we first kissed— and he slowly brought his lips to mine. His pressure was gentle, and our tongues met in a slow dance, curling around each other. We followed suit with our fingers, intertwining them before Luc brought my hands together behind my back. I pulled away with a gasp. He’d done the same in the Garden of Girth before going down on his knees.
His breath came faster now, and his eyes raked over my face. Without words, he nudged his thigh between my legs and moved me to his tower door. Solid wood met my back, and Luc lifted my hands above my head, bringing his mouth to my neck.
“It should be illegal to want you this much,” he said, his thick breath at my throat.
The feeling was entirely mutual. I tried to pull my hands away, to touch him, but he kept them pinned to the door. Luc’s mouth moved lower now, nudging at the top of my dress. Devoid of anything to grab with, I brought my knee to press against his length.
He groaned, and my lips curved. “You know, Chloe reminded me of something earlier.”
He stopped his southward journey and looked at me as if I was mad to want conversation at a time like his.
“I’m officially the lady of the chateau now. It’s my duty to oversee all housekeeping arrangements.”
He moved his lips from my collarbone, bringing them up to rest against mine. “What does this have to do with me undressing you?”
His voice sounded so gravelly, so raw, that I almost lost my breath, but a tingle of delight hit low down in my belly.
“Everything. Remind me. How many bedrooms do we own, exactly?”
“Twenty-seven,” he whispered.
“Perfect.”
He pulled away from me slightly. “Why? ”
I grinned. “I think your tower is a little too much of a bachelor pad for me. A little cluttered.”
“I see,” he said, letting out a breath as I brought my thigh to his hardness again.
“And if we have to choose another room, don’t you think we should do some thorough research first?”
His lips curled, and he ground into me gently. “What exactly would this research involve?”
“Well, we’d have to inspect each room. Find out which ones had the best views. Which beds were the most comfortable.”
Luc chuckled from somewhere deep in his chest. “One at a time, you mean?”
“I think so. If we worked really hard, we could complete our research before our honeymoon.”
Luc’s eyes glinted with delight. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. When do you propose we start?”
He loosened his grip on my hands, and I brought them to his chest. I laid a kiss against his mouth, brushing my lips over his. “How about right now? And, you know, I’ve been thinking…”
“Tell me,” he murmured.
“We may need to delay the honeymoon. Give ourselves more time. I’m not sure we should limit ourselves to just the beds.”
A wolfish grin crept over Luc’s lips, and something between desire and adoration burned in his eyes. “I love you so much, Iris,” he whispered. “Thank you for swimming in my pool.”
I smiled, letting out a gentle chuckle. “It was my pleasure. Only next time, don’t bring the dog. With his teeth, I might run out of clothes.”
Luc grinned and brought his lips to my ear. “Then that pleasure will be all mine.”