Page 74 of The Paris Trip

‘I do,’ she admitted, ‘and that’s what worries me. I don’t want you punching anyone on my behalf. Let alone your dad.’ Her gaze needled him. ‘Thank you for your concern. But I don’t need any man fighting my battles for me. Besides, it was just nonsense, what he was saying. So what’s the point in getting irate about nonsense?’

He felt rebuffed and sucked in a breath. ‘I get your point. I’m sorry. I felt embarrassed, that’s all… That my own father could say something like that to a guest.’

Her smile looked almost sad. ‘I’d better go and pack too. I’m not staying here if you’re leaving.’ Maeve got up and reached for her clothes, still wearing the diaphanous wrap she had donned for the painting session. ‘It’s true, your father’s very rude,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘but are you ready to throw away your relationship with him over a silly argument? You could paint him and Chanelle in a few hours, surely?’

‘Of course. But that’s not the point. It’s a matter of principle.’ He knew she wouldn’t understand though. She had never had to deal with the steady drip-drip-drip of unhappiness and repression that he’d experienced under his father’s yoke. As she turned to the door, he caught her hand. ‘A minute, please… My only real regret is the possibility that I might lose touch with you because of this.’ He swallowed down a wave of yearning. This wasn’t the time or place to be making romantic overtures to this woman. But he had to try. ‘Will you still let me paint you? You won’t go straight back to England now you’re free to leave France, I hope?’

‘Sorry, but yes, that was my intention.’ She looked away. ‘I’ve been away from home too long.’

‘Then perhaps I could come to England.’ He knew it was unlikely but he couldn’t see any other way. ‘Assuming you’d like to see me again?’

She said nothing, but there was a soft glow to her cheeks as she glanced back at him.

He added with difficulty, ‘It can’t be any time soon, unfortunately. I’ll have to work from memory and photographs to complete the paintings from the exhibition. But it would be good to paint you one day in your natural habitat too.’ He smiled at her look of confusion. ‘England, I mean.’

But before Maeve could reply, Liselle slammed into the studio in a figure-hugging green silk jumpsuit, her face flushed, her eyes wide and furious.

Maeve tugged free and took two hurried steps backwards, almost as though afraid Liselle was about to attack her.

‘What the hell is going on, Leo?’ his manager demanded breathlessly, advancing on him with malevolent intent. She stopped barely a foot away, her hands dropping to her hips, her chin jutting dangerously. ‘Your father’s just told me you’re leaving Château Rémy and that you don’t plan to come back. And all because of her.’ She flung out an arm in quivering accusation, pointing at Maeve. ‘Is it true?’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Maeve was just about able to follow that rapid, furious flow of French. Though even if she hadn’t caught most of the words, the meaning behind Liselle’s glare would have been unmistakable.

‘Calm down.’ Leo stepped swiftly between the two of them.

Maeve winced inwardly at this awkward choice of words; she could have told him that wasn’t the best thing for a man to say to an angry woman. But he was about to discover that for himself, she suspected.

‘Calm down?’ Liselle repeated, staring across the room at him. The redhead looked almost feral, lips drawn back from her teeth in a snarl. ‘You can’t do this to me, Leo,’ she snapped, the words tumbling out of her mouth at top speed. ‘Your exhibition is coming up. Sascha called earlier to say it’s all set up and there’s a huge buzz about it. Don’t you get it? This isn’t just about you anymore. I’ve staked my reputation on this exhibition; you can’t simply leave. I’ll look like an idiot.’

‘Trust me, I’ll be there. With a good range of paintings, ready for the grand reveal.’ Leo strode across and put a hand on her shoulder, his voice surprisingly calm now given the major upheaval he’d just been through. ‘You always knew this would happen one day, Liselle. Well, things have finally come to a head between me and my father, so that day has come. I’m leaving Château Rémy.’

‘But why now?’

‘Because I couldn’t stomach his behaviour anymore. The sly remarks, the demands, the insults…’ He grimaced. ‘Besides, you didn’t hear what he said to me just now. Or how he spoke to Maeve.’

‘Oh yes, Maeve…’ Liselle’s angry gaze shot to Maeve’s face. ‘I should have known this would be something to do with her. Ever since she arrived here, you’ve been all over her.’ She shook her head with undisguised disapproval. ‘You’ve changed, Leo. You’re not the man you used to be.’

Leo’s mouth quirked. ‘Maybe not. But from my point of view, it’s a change for the better.’

His manager drew a deep breath. ‘Come downstairs with me. I’ve spoken to your father and he’s not as angry as he was. I can make him see sense.’

Now Leo was frowning. ‘What do you mean?’

‘We’ve put together a plan. It’s not ideal, but it means you can stay here and keep painting. Please, come downstairs and hear his proposition.’

Leo looked indecisive.

Feeling very much in the way, Maeve collected her stuff and went to the door. ‘This isn’t anything to do with me,’ she said lightly. ‘I’m going to my room to pack. I… I’ll speak to you again before I leave, Leo.’

Without glancing his way, she left before Leo could try to dissuade her. She didn’t like getting in the way of a family argument, and she certainly didn’t like Liselle’s accusation that she had somehow caused this split between Leo and his father just by her presence at Château Rémy.

Up in her quaint attic room with its low, sloping ceiling, Maeve dragged out her rucksack, which the police had given back to her emptied of her belongings. But of course there wasn’t much she could pack, unless she took Bernadette’s clothes. She hesitated, and then changed into her own jeans and tee-shirt, the outfit she’d been wearing when she missed the coach. At least they were familiar and comfortable, even if they wouldn’t suit every situation.

She was just looking tentatively through the meagre stack of Bernadette’s clothes to see if there was anything she could ask to take with her and post back later, when a knock at the door disturbed her.

‘Come in,’ she said, jumping a little. She didn’t feel strong enough to face Leo again right now. Things were so confused between the two of them.

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