Page 42 of Love in Bloom

CHAPTER TEN

Fontainebleau

“Oh my. I know I said Villandry was my favorite on the trip, but this place, this palace tops it.” Camille covered her mouth with her hands and gaped up at the cream building with a gray roof and a double sweeping staircase leading to the front doors. “Look how charming it is. All the towers. The clock. The windows. It looks like a palace should. Don’t you agree? Of course you do.” She tucked Tristan’s hand in hers and swept down the walk of pavers toward the front door. “I feel almost royal standing in front of it. Can you imagine living here?”

“It has over fifteen hundred rooms. Perhaps a bit bigger than what I need in life.”

“Not to mention the cleaning bill. Or the heating bill. Or the air-conditioning.”

“The water, the electricity, the staff.”

“Oh yes, we must have a staff. I couldn’t possibly clean that many rooms and bathrooms alone. Even with an aggressive schedule, I’d be cleaning daily all year.” She slid her sunglasses down her nose to look at Tristan. “Such a drain on my time would leave me little attention for Lakr or my husband.” She smiled at him.

“Naturally.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She noticed a reluctance growing over him since the kiss earlier. She didn’t regret it, not for one instant. She hoped he didn’t either but suspected he did.

“Shall we?” Tristan gestured toward the monstrosity.

“Definitely, yes.”

Camille worked hard to keep her jaw from dropping as they were guided from room to room. “Each one feels grander than the last,” she whispered to Tristan.

“I dare you to sit on the throne,” he teased her.

“I would take that dare if I thought the guide wouldn’t have a stroke on the spot,” she replied, admiring the red plush velvet and gild work on the chair. “Plus, I think all the former royals would come and haunt me if I dared. They used it continuously as a place of residence for eight centuries. That’s a lot of ghosts.”

They moved on.

“I can’t even see the other end of this room,” she remarked about the library. “I won’t need a workout today. Seeing this room alone must be enough steps to constitute a mile.”

In the theater, Tristan said, “I dare you to go sing I’m a Little Teapot on the stage.”

“Right after you,” she quipped. “Can you picture it? The royals and all their courtiers and guests all decked out in their finery, watching a performance. The gowns would’ve been amazing. But the makeup. Yuck. The chemicals. It’s a wonder they didn’t all die of that instead of disease.”

Tristan chuckled in her ear. “Are you wondering if you might’ve improved their quality of life if you’d been here during Bonaparte?”

“That’s not even a question. A modern woman with an understanding of chemistry would’ve undoubtedly been able to make a substantial contribution.”

“And there’s the rub. You’re a woman, and for that fact alone they wouldn’t listen.”

The guide led them up sixty narrow steps.

Camille gripped Tristan’s hand tighter.

“Afraid of narrow spaces?” He raised a brow.

“No. I’m thrilled to see Marie-Antoinette’s boudoir!”

Their small group was still too large to enter all at once, and they were divided into two sets, with the Penroses in the second set.

Camille tapped her foot against the floor. “I don’t think I can stand the wait.”

“Of course you can.” Tristan touched her thigh with his hand.

She stilled her foot. Delightful warmth zipped through her at his touch.

When the first group came out, they were ushered in, along with the non-English speaking couple.

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