Authors: Kate Forster
‘Rubbish, I got your measurements from Jonas. I just picked it up from Printemps.’
Cinda wiggled out of her jeans and into the skirt. It did up perfectly.
‘Put these on,’ said Alex, throwing her a pair of black tights with a slight pattern through them.
Cinda dressed in the rest of the items and looked at Alex, who squinted.
‘What?’ asked Cinda as she turned to look at her reflection in the mirror.
‘Oh,’ she said, her face falling. She didn’t look like herself at all. She pulled off the skirt and tights and put on her jeans instead. She strung a rope of red beads she had bought in Positano around her neck and applied a brick-red lipstick.
‘I know you said easy on the accessories but I feel more like me like this.’
Alex nodded in agreement. ‘It’s better actually,’ Alex said. ‘Not that I normally advocate jeans on a date, but in your case they work.’
‘This isn’t a date,’ said Cinda. ‘Remember Ludo? Gosh, you have no shame.’
‘Whatever it is, you look gorgeous,’ said Alex, brushing away Cinda’s concerns.
The doorbell rang and Cinda froze. If it wasn’t a date, then why did she feel so anxious?
‘Let’s go, Princess,’ said Alex, pushing Cinda out the door and down the hallway.
Gus stood in the foyer, thankfully wearing jeans also – although he’d teamed them with a blazer. But still, Cinda felt better for seeing him in them, and she smiled as she greeted him.
‘Hello,’ he answered and she felt his eyes sweep over her outfit appreciatively.
She felt a flush of pleasure, at the same time wondering why his approval suddenly meant so much to her.
‘Alex! What are you doing here?’ he asked, joy in his voice upon spotting her.
Alex stepped out from behind Cinda and kissed her cousin on both cheeks.
‘Ludo introduced us in Positano,’ she said with a smile. ‘We’ve become great friends since, haven’t we?’
Cinda nodded dumbly, wishing she didn’t feel like she was at a school dance.
‘Ludo: Bringing people together since the beginning of time,’ said Gus darkly, and Cinda felt her nerves disappear with the returning annoyance at Gus. Why did he dislike his own brother so much?
‘We missed you in Ibiza, Gus,’ Alex said. ‘And your guitar.’
Gus gave her a sheepish look. ‘I’m afraid those days are over for me.’
‘Yes, I heard Auntie wasn’t very pleased,’ Alex laughed.
‘When is she ever pleased?’ groaned Gus. He looked at Cinda. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes,’ she said curtly.
‘You sure you want to go?’ he asked, registering her annoyance.
‘I said I’d go, so let’s go,’ she said and she picked up her bag, fishing around for her sunglasses and shoving them on her face even though she was still indoors.
The three of them walked out the door and waited for the lift.
‘How is Perrette?’ asked Alex.
Cinda noticed that Gus’s body language changed, his back stiffening. ‘I haven’t had much time with her lately,’ he answered. ‘But she’s fine.’
‘Send her my regards.’
‘I will,’ said Gus, and they travelled down to the foyer in silence.
Gus’s bodyguards were waiting by the front door.
Cinda turned to Alex. ‘I’ll call you later.’
Alex nodded and whispered in her ear. ‘Give him a chance. You just need to get through the closed exterior.’ And then she swept out the door and into the street.
A chance at what?
Cinda thought as she was ushered into the waiting car by the bodyguards.
Gus took the wheel and expertly drove them through the streets of Paris and out along the highway. Soon they were speeding out of the city.
Cinda started to relax as they drove through the quaint villages and past fields of lavender.
‘It’s so gorgeous,’ she said. ‘If I lived here I’d have something wonderful to paint everyday.’
‘Would you live here?’ he asked, glancing across at her.
‘If I could,’ she said, smiling at the idea.
Gus nodded. ‘I would too, but I have to live in Sardinia when I become king.’
‘Don’t you like Sardinia?’ she asked, turning to look at his profile as he drove.
‘I do, but I’m just not passionate about it,’ he said. ‘Not like Ludo.’
‘Yes, Ludo certainly loves his country,’ said Cinda dryly.
They drove in silence for a while.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked as they turned down another road and passed through yet another village and down a picturesque gravel road.
‘I’m taking you to my favourite place in the world,’ he said as they slowly moved through a set of magnificent iron gates.
‘My father was French, a minor royal whose family made a lot of money through art dealing.’
Cinda listened with interest.
‘My great-grandfather loved art more than he loved his country, which was a great deal. I think that’s where Ludo gets his passion for his homeland – except in my great-grandfather’s case, it was a passion for France. Even though my father gave up everything to live with my mother in Sardinia, there was one thing he couldn’t give up.’ The car slowed to a crawl and Gus nodded out the window. Cinda turned to see a chateau like something out of a fairytale.
‘This was his home. Chateau Avignon.’
‘It’s so beautiful,’ Cinda breathed, taking in the turrets and the lake, with two white swans gliding about on the water.
‘Isn’t it? I don’t think she’s ever looked lovelier than she does today,’ Gus said, looking at her.
He drove the car down the long driveway and over the little bridge, coming to a stop in front of the chateau.
‘Welcome,’ he said, and he rushed out of the car and ran around to Cinda’s door and opened it for her.
Cinda carefully exited the car as Alex had shown her. Even though she was wearing jeans, she still wanted to be perfect for this incredible place.
They walked up the wide stone stairs and Cinda paused at the top and looked at the view.
‘It’s incredible,’ she said. ‘The colours of the trees and the sky. The lake, everything. I’d never get sick of this view.’
Gus smiled. ‘You know, I never actually take the time to stand here and look,’ he admitted. ‘But now I have, I think I will always pause at the top of the steps when I arrive.’
‘Sometimes I try and memorise colours,’ said Cinda dreamily.
Gus stood close to her. ‘Which ones are you trying to learn now?’
She laughed. ‘
Learning colours
, I like that. I’m looking at the trees, the colours of the leaves. Most people would just call them brown, but what do you really see?’
Gus stared at them for a while and then turned, his face flushed with chilly air. ‘Allspice.’
‘Allspice!’
‘The leaves look like cinnamon, nutmeg, caramel, pepper, saffron, paprika,’ he said, shuffling his feet self-consciously.
Cinda stared at him and then back at the trees. ‘You’re right,’ she said slowly. ‘That’s the perfect way to describe them.’
‘Welcome home, Your Highness.’
A man in a suit stood behind them, having opened the double doors.
‘Pierre, this is Lucinda Bloom, a friend of Ludo’s,’ he said and then he gave a little smile as he added, ‘and of mine.’
Cinda flashed a smile at Gus and then turned to Pierre.
‘Hello,’ she said, putting her hand out to shake his, unsure if she should curtsey or not.
‘Hello, Miss Bloom.’
‘Cinda, please.’
‘Of course, Miss Cinda.’ he said. He turned to Gus. ‘Will you be taking lunch here?’
‘Why not?’ said Gus, and Pierre nodded and moved away. ‘Now let’s get to the surprise,’ he said to Cinda.
She laughed. ‘This wasn’t it?’
‘No,’ said Gus as he led her down a mirrored hallway.
‘This is like a mini Versailles,’ she said, awestruck. She and Jonas had visited the Palace of Versailles when they had first arrived in Paris.
‘It’s the same architect,’ said Gus.
‘Naturally.’
Gus stopped in front of a huge door and entered a long code into the security pad beside the door. The door unlocked and Gus pushed it open a fraction before pausing. ‘Ready?’
‘I’m scared,’ she said half-jokingly. ‘Is this your panic room?’
He opened the door and gently pushed Cinda through.
Inside was a room full of masterpieces. Every bit of wall space was hung with art.
‘Oh my god,’ she gasped, moving towards the art instinctively.
Gus gave a warm, open laugh and, for a moment, Cinda didn’t know what was lovelier: a room laden with priceless masterpieces, or the sound of genuine, delighted laughter from the brother of the guy she was falling in love with.
Gus watched Cinda as she walked carefully about the room, as though her footsteps might disturb the paintings and their subjects.
‘You don’t need to tread so softly. Ludo and I used to play four-square in here when we were children,’ he said gesturing to the parquetry floor.
Cinda looked at him in shock. ‘Four-square? You didn’t, did you? Did you ever break anything?’
Gus laughed. ‘Only Ludo’s spirit,’ he said, looking over her shoulder at the Renoir she was examining.
‘You two are very competitive?’
‘I suppose we are. That’s the issue with being a twin; someone is always trying to prove they’re as worthy.’
‘As worthy of what?’ she asked, moving on to the next painting.
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted, rubbing his temples with his fingertips.
Cinda glanced at him and continued on to another painting.
‘So this was all your great-grandfather’s doing?’
Grateful for the change of subject, he nodded. ‘He had a very good eye, and knew what was worth investing in.’
They spent a long time in the room, Cinda loving being surrounded by the works of so many excellent artists. It was amazing to be so close to the art and not jostling for space with a million other art-loving tourists.
Gus knew every piece and its provenance, and Cinda listened as he spoke of the artists’ histories, and told her tales about the works.
‘You know a lot about the works. Did you study all last night?’ she teased.
Gus reddened. He
had
put in a cram session the night before, but he had already known quite a lot before then.
His father used to tell him stories about the paintings when he was a child, while Ludo was outside terrorising the peacocks and driving their nannies to distraction.
‘Amazing that you can come here whenever you like,’ Cinda sighed enviously.
Gus gave a bitter laugh. ’It will be Ludo’s when I take the crown. He’ll probably sell everything and turn the place into a nightclub.’
Cinda looked about the room. ’Maybe you can have a concert here when he does.’
Gus laughed. ‘My mother would have a heart attack.’
They eventually left the room and wandered about the rest of the house, Gus taking pleasure in Cinda’s reaction the chateau’s classic beauty.
Maybe if Cinda does end up with Ludo she won’t let the house
go to pieces
, he thought, but his heart hurt a little at that idea. Was he really going to lose both the house and Cinda to Ludo, who probably didn’t really want either?
‘Have you heard from Ludo?’ he asked as they ate lunch on the terrace, basking in the autumn sun.
Cinda paused, as though deciding what to say. She buttered her bread carefully before responding. ‘No,’ she said, raising her eyebrows at Gus. ‘Are you going to say you told me so?’
‘He is in the middle of nowhere,’ said Gus.
Cinda sighed. ‘I feel like a massive parasite. Staying in the apartment and eating your brioche, doing nothing but waiting for Ludo to call. It’s really dumb and actually embarrassing – like I’m in the tower, waiting for some prince to rescue me.’ She put down her fork next to the quiche. ‘Maybe I should just forget it and go home. I thought there was something special between us, but then I don’t hear from him for weeks on end.’
Gus felt torn. Now was the time to tell her to leave, to make a dash for it, because Ludo would break her heart – and she was breaking Gus’s by being so gorgeous and so incredibly unsuitable.
‘I’m sure it’s just that he’s out of range,’ Gus heard himself say. ‘Focus on the painting, and then he’ll be back and you can see what happens between you.’
‘Maybe,’ said Cinda uncertainly.
Gus poured them a little more wine and Cinda sipped hers slowly.
‘This is nice wine.’
‘It’s from Perrette’s family’s estate,’ he said. ‘They are in the Loire Valley. Just down the road, actually.’
Cinda put the wine down. ‘Cool,’ she said sarcastically, and the steely look in her eyes was back. Perrette really could piss people off.
He had always viewed Perrette’s cool demeanour and barbed comments as simply who she was. Perrette was just Perrette. She knew what she wanted, who she wanted to know, how to order her priorities. But that little episode with Cinda at the cocktail party made him wonder if he shouldn’t have stood up to her more over the years.
Christ
, he thought.
Cinda is right.
He was living in a world of bullies.
‘When are you getting married?’ she asked.
‘Married?’ he repeated. ‘We’re not engaged. I haven’t asked her yet.’
‘Really?’ said Cinda, giving him a knowing look. They both knew that Perrette was acting on the assumption they would one day be married.