“I need my son to be as solid as me,” Henri replied. “With a good head for business. He must find a decent girl and start a family. A girl who knows her place, not a flighty girl with ambitions of her own.”
“Like Antoinette.”
“Jean-Paul needs to return to England in order to stay away from his mother. Sometimes love can be suffocating. There is nothing wrong with love, but we all need a little space. Relationships work better when the air is able to circulate between two people. Antoinette would have liked more children. It would have been easier for Jean-Paul if she had. Tant pis!”
“He will make a wonderful vigneron,” she said diplomatically.
“He has watched the machinations of the business since he was a little boy and then, bam, all of a sudden he lost interest and I lost him.”
“Don’t all children go through that stage? They rebel against their parents when they try to work life out for themselves and gain a little independence. He’ll come back to you.”
“I don’t know. I had such high expectations of him.”
“Don’t be too hard, Henri. On yourself or on him. If you give a horse a long rein he won’t run away; if you pull it in tight, he’ll bolt.”
“You are wise for someone so young.”
“It’s all the spinach I eat. Good for the brain,” she quipped.
“Then I should eat more than I do.”
Antoinette’s garden was bursting into flower. Pink roses were budding against a wall where great stone urns of white tulips sprang up with yellow senecio and violas. Box hedges were frothy and pale green, and wild yellow narcissus grew in abundance among rampaging honeysuckle and daisies. The air was sweet with the scent of spring, stirred by the merry twittering of birds as they flirted in the cedar and sycamore trees. In the middle of her carefully designed garden was an ornamental pond, the statue of a little boy, his hand outstretched, touching the wing of a bird in flight. Ava was drawn to it. She stood beneath the sculpture, admiring the way the boy’s fingers barely touched the bird so that it appeared to be totally unsupported. Jean-Paul came up behind her.
“Isn’t it incredible?” he said.
She turned and smiled at him. “It reminds me of the little boy and dolphin that stand on the Embankment in London.”
“This was commissioned for me, by my mother.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I am the little boy, the bird symbolizes freedom. As you can see, I can almost touch it.”
“You can be free at Hartington.”
“I know,” he replied, so softly she could barely hear him. She felt the breeze ruffle her hair. “I want to kiss your neck,” he added.
“Be careful.”
“I’m French, I say what I feel.”
“I ask you to take care, Mr. Frenchman. We are being watched.”
“They are not interested, ma pêche. Look, they are busy discussing the history of the cave and the great freeze of ninety-one. Papa will not cease to worry about frost until la lune rousse.” He sighed heavily. “But I couldn’t care less about frost. I want to lie with you and make love to you in the warmth of my cottage, up there under the eaves. I want to kiss you all over, slowly, carefully, savoring the taste of you inch by inch.”
“Stop,” she pleaded. “Phillip…”
“Your Phillip is enraptured by my father. Listen, they are discussing the quality of the grape.”
“There’s nothing that interests him more than that.”
“Then leave them to it. He is happy. Come.”
“We can’t,” she protested.
“I want to show you the greenhouses. They are spectacular.”
“It’s too obvious!”
“Only to you. They suspect nothing. Isn’t it natural that I should want to show you my home?” He began to walk towards the yew hedge.
Ava turned. Phillip raised his eyes, she waved, he waved back, then she was gone through the hedge and Jean-Paul had taken her hand and was leading her down a gravel path.
Once inside, he closed the door and kissed her. It was hot and humid, smelling of damp earth and freesias. She felt his excitement as he pulled her hips towards him. “We can’t…” But it was useless to protest. His mouth silenced her and his arms wound around her in a passionate embrace.
“I wish we were alone. You drive me crazy,” he gasped. “I want to take your dress off and feel your flesh. I want to lie naked with you so nothing separates us but skin and bone.”
“Darling Jean-Paul, it’s not possible here. Phillip and your father could come in at any time.”
“Curse them both!” He scowled. “I will engineer it so that we can be alone.”