Henri gestures toward the trellises. “I’m going to reveal a big secret, Gigi. You must swear not to tell anyone.”
“OK,” I say, a little puzzled.Why is he pointing at the vines?
His lips quirk into a sly smile. “These grapes are an illegal variety, known for its bold, sweet flavor. I’ve been growing them here for years as a hobby.”
His confession is so at odds with what I expected that I’m left speechless.
“You’re looking at rustic, disease-resistant, American grapes,” he continues. “They were introduced in France in the nineteenth century. In 1934, the government unjustly accused them of being toxic and outlawed them. The ban is still valid today.”
“Why were they really banned?”
“Because they were thought to threaten traditional, French varieties deemed more noble.”
I nod absently, processing what just happened.So, this was his big secret? Illegal grapes?
Still half expecting more, I press on. “Is there… something else you want to talk about?”
“Nope,” he says. “That’s it.”
I survey him, my heart sinking.
He shrugs. “I really have no more secrets to share, Gigi. My original plan was to tell you about the anti-royal plot, but Julian beat me to it.”
“But don’t you want to address his grave accusations?”
“No,” he replies.
“Don’t you at least wish to give me your side of the story?”
“There’s only one side to that story,” he says, his eyes dull. “With the exception of the small detail about us getting caught, Julian’s scoop is true. All of it.”
I keep pushing, “This is your chance to defend yourself, to explain your reasons. Why pass it up?”
“My reasons…” The corners of his mouth grimace into a bitter smile. “Who cares about my reasons? All that matters is that I did what I did.”
“I do! I care about your reasons!”
He shakes his head. “I have nothing to add.”
His final words hit me like a physical blow. Silently, I watch him gaze back at me, his posture rigid and his jaw set. Around us, the secret vineyard stands as a silent witness to my hopes crushing against this man’s unyielding hang-ups.
Audrey was so right about him!
The added irony here is that I come from a family whose members are always more demanding on themselves than on others. In my world, self-criticism and high-mindedness are expected in a person of quality. But in Henri’s case, it’s a pathology. I’ve never seen someone so hard on themselves, sounforgiving of the mistakes they’ve made, so unwilling to grab the lifebuoy they’ve been thrown…
So pigheaded!
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
In this charming secret vineyard, Henri’s revelation about the forbidden grapes would’ve been fun under different circumstances. But now, given the context, it seems trivial and insignificant. And a bit insulting, to be honest.
Anger simmering inside me, I stare at Henri.
He stares back. He appears calm, but I notice tiny little signs that tell me he’s simply better at suppressing the tumult inside than I am. His sexy mouth has thinned into a line. There’s a vexed stiffness to his shoulders. And he’s shoved his hands into his pockets so that his clenched fists don’t give him away.
You can run, but you can’t hide, sweetheart! You’re an open book.
I smirk at that thought.
