What had happened between herself and Angus McLeod had never been supposed to be anything more thanune aventure d’été– a summer fling. They were opposites who might be attracted to each other in the short term, but someone like Angus would never risk trusting that kind of connection for something as important as the rest of his life.
Had her hope been completely misplaced – brought into existence by no more than a sprinkle of wishful thinking?
With a heavy heart, Tilly threw herself into a level of cleaning that her apartment hadn’t been subjected to in quite some time. She scrubbed and polished every surface and scoured the casserole dish from last night before shoving it into the very back of a cupboard because the reminder of the dinner she’d just shared with Angus and its unfortunate aftermath was becoming more and more like poking a raw wound.
By the end of the day she had tired herself out again and… she was miserable. The thought of checking her upcoming bookings and trying to lose herself in the romance of someone else’s proposal was unappealing to say the least. It would definitely be wiggling the knife in the wound.
The desire to ring Sophie and have a girly heart-to-heart was a lot more enticing, but her friend would be busy with her baby and coping with the stress of getting packed up to come to their second home in France for the rest of the summer. She would be seeing her in a few days, anyway – maybe they could have an entire evening just to themselves when the family was settled back in France for a while. Luc could look after Maddie, and Angus… well, who knew where he might be by then?
It was better to wait. Unless he was caught up in work or he’d been scared off completely, there was no reason for Angus not to come to the planned dinner. And, if he did, maybe Sophie would see something that Tilly was missing. Something good, like the way she’d known how much Luc loved Sophie? Even if it was something devastating, like confirming that Angus didn’t want anything more than a friendship, it would be better to know now and start the heartbreaking process of backtracking out of that dead-end street.
What was that English saying that Angus had used about his father?
Ah, ouais… Love is blind.
L’amour est aveugle.
It was the same in any language. And it was always a good idea to see something clearly, however painful the truth might be.
* * *
Angus did get back by late Thursday afternoon and seemed happy to go with Tilly to meet her friends.
‘I could do with switching off from work for a while,’ he said. ‘And it’s my turn to pick you up. Shall we take some wine with us?’
‘Good idea. We could find a dessert as well.’
Tilly took him to acave à vinrather than a supermarket to find a bottle of wine. It was a small shop, with bare stone walls inside and out, lined with bottles of every wine imaginable, their labels to the front. There were the classic straight bottles for a wine like Bordeaux, softer curves for a Chablis and the fatter ones with rounded shoulders for burgundy and champagne. There were tall, slender bottles of rosé, some with pretty facetsor embossing and, on the top shelves, some bottles had necks with a visible layer of dust.
‘What do they like?’ Angus asked.
‘I think Luc prefers red wine. Sophie’s like me – she adores champagne.’
They bought a bottle of each and Luc carried them as they passed the pâtissier on the way back to his car. There was too much to choose from, with larger cakes like chocolate tarts or afraisierthat had strawberries and cream layered with sponge, and a huge array of tiny treats like macarons, mille-feuille and éclairs with their glossy icing revealing flavours like coffee and lemon. They bought a selection of the smaller pastries so everyone could choose their favourite.
The village of Saint Jeannet was tucked beneath the majestic overhang of the most easily recognised of the fourbaous.
‘I find it astonishing,’ Angus said, as he followed Tilly from where he was able to park the SUV, up the cobbled streets, past ancient fountains, through archways and between stone dwellings that people had lived in for centuries, ‘that these villages are so similar but every one of them is so different. They all have their own individual character, don’t they? A personality, even.’
‘They do,’ Tilly agreed. ‘And I love them all. Wait till you see Sophie’s house.’
She could see that he was enchanted by the blue door of Sophie’s tall, thin home.
‘This ground floor used to be our office for when we ran Marry Me in Provence,’ Tilly told Angus. ‘Our desks took up one half and the sofas were for clients to sit on and admire the view. If you go out on the balconies, especially the higher ones, it feels like you can reach out and touch thebaou.’
She could see that Angus liked Luc instantly by the way he returned his handshake and he seemed delighted that Sophiegreeted him with the kiss on each cheek that he knew was reserved for friends. Baby Maddie was a little more reserved, but only with the strange man. She kicked her feet and grinned up at Tilly as she crouched to admire the soft toys and rattles hanging by elastic strings on a frame over the padded play mat.
‘Ooh, lookma puce. Is that a little duck? Does it gocoin coin?’ Tilly squeezed the small duck that obligingly quacked. Maddie gave her own squeak that made everyone smile.
‘She’s due to get tucked up in bed very soon,’ Sophie said. ‘If you want a cuddle I’d get it in before she gets grizzly.’
Tilly didn’t need to be told twice. Carefully, she scooped up the baby and held her close, rocking her gently as she pressed a kiss to the downy fluff that was her hair. She closed her eyes and inhaled the delicious scent of a freshly bathed baby and maybe she was a little drunk with it by the time she opened her eyes to find Angus watching her.
And the yearning came out of nowhere with a thump that was strong enough to steal her breath and make her heart skip a beat.
This…
She wanted what Sophie had found. A husband who adored her. The promise of a future that would last the rest of their lives. Ababy.
