Page 3 of The Paris Trip

But he knew she wouldn’t listen.

And he was hurting.

‘Will your father come to the funeral?’ Liselle asked.

‘No, he’s not coming. My grandmother managed to track him down and let him know his eldest son was dead. But he still refused to pay his respects.’

‘What a horrible man.’

Leo shrugged. ‘All he said was that I must take over where Francis left off. That I would have to come home permanently to run the family business.’

‘What will you do?’ she whispered, wide-eyed.

‘My duty to the family,’ Leo said grimly, and loosened the knot on his tie before it could strangle him.

‘Give up painting?’ She sounded horrified.

‘I don’t have any other choice.’

Liselle stared. ‘But of course you do.’ She tugged urgently on his sleeve. ‘Darling, let’s leave. Straight after the funeral. We’ll take the train back to Vence and your father can go to hell.’

‘With my blessing,’ he snarled. ‘But if I simply ran away again, what would happen to the rest of my family?’ His teeth ground together at the trap closing about him. ‘No, I have to accept my father’s offer to run the business in Francis’s place.’ He saw her begin to protest and shook his head. ‘Oh, not to please him. You’re right, I’d happily see him in hell. But to save my grandmother and Nonna and Bernadette from losing everything… If my useless father was ever forced to come back here and started running the business for himself, the bank accounts would soon be wiped out and their lives not worth living.’

She seemed perplexed. ‘Your father can’t be that bad.’

Leo turned away from his brother’s body. ‘Trust me, he’s worse. A total narcissist. All he cares about is himself. My grandfather tried everything he could to bypass him in the Will. But under French law, you can never disinherit your child, however appalling – ’ Abruptly, he stopped and ran a hand over his forehead, closing his eyes. ‘Look, I have to do this, even if it means never painting again. I owe my family everything, I can’t abandon them now.’

‘Okay, but what about Bernadette? Why can’t she run things?’

‘She could, absolutely. Though whether she’d want to,’ he added, baring his teeth, ‘is another matter entirely. Besides, it would never be suggested. My father barely tolerates her living at the château. He’d never give her the family business to run.’

Liselle looked shocked. ‘Why not? Bernadette’s your sister.’

‘My mother’s child, yes. But he didn’t father her.’

‘Oh.’ She blinked in surprise at that revelation, then said robustly, ‘Well, if you’re staying, then I’ll stay too.’

Leo glanced at her briefly, not sure if that was a good idea. Their relationship was on the wane; he knew it even if she didn’t. But that hardly seemed worth arguing about right now. Not with everything else falling to pieces around him.

‘We can talk about it after I’ve buried my brother,’ was all he replied, tight-lipped. ‘First though, I need a stiff drink. Come on…’

CHAPTER ONE

Three years later

‘Right, listen up, everyone!’ The tour guide clapped her hands a few times above the excited rumble of conversation and then seized the microphone to get their attention, booming out, ‘Your final session of free time in Paris begins now!’ Her fanatical gaze roved across their faces, studying each one in turn. ‘Hello, people… Are you listening?’

Three rows back, sitting bolt-upright, Maeve gave the tour guide an encouraging smile. She was listening. Pen poised above her notebook, she was also ready to take copious notes, as she always did.

Better safe than sorry.

‘From here, you can explore the Louvre museum and galleries, take a cruise on the River Seine, relax in the lovely Tuileries Gardens, or even treat yourself to a slap-up meal at the exclusive Paris Ritz. The choice is up to you. But please remember, people, you only have six hours. We meet back here at five o’clock sharp.’ Betsy paused. ‘Any questions before I let you go?’

Maeve stuck her hand in the air.

A collective groan went up from her fellow travellers, and she glanced about at them, unable to suppress an inner flicker of annoyance.

Perhaps she had asked rather a lot of questions on this tour. But it wasn’t her fault that so much was left unexplained. Besides, the coach tour was almost over now. Tonight they would be heading back to the ferry and the white cliffs of Dover. So one more itty bitty question could surely not hurt…

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