Simone grew up to regret not holding tight to her happiness with both hands. I’m older now. Wiser.’
‘Trickier,’ murmured Gabrielle.
‘That too.’ Simone sipped at her champagne and stared at the valley spread out before her, half of which she owned. ‘So how is he?’ she said tentatively. ‘Rafael.’
‘Driven,’ said Gabrielle with a wry twist of her lips.
‘Is he happy?’
‘I really don’t know.’
‘Is he married?’
‘No.’ Gabrielle took pity on her childhood friend and gave her the information she sought. ‘He’s had a few relationships over the years. Less than he could have had. Nothing he ever put before his work.’ Gabrielle sipped at her champagne. ‘He’s building an empire,’ she said softly. ‘Proving his worth, over and over, to a mother who never loved him, an heiress who wouldn’t believe in him, and a best friend who didn’t support him.’
‘That’s not a fair call, Gabrielle.’ Simone’s voice was low and tight. ‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘I know,’ said Gabrielle. ‘And on an intellectual level, Rafe would agree with you. He knows Luc’s hands were tied when it came to setting up in business with him. He’s quite capable of admitting that you and he were far too young to be thinking about marriage, let alone eloping to Australia. He says he works like a dog because he enjoys it. But if you ask me—and you did— the real reason he works so hard is that the ghosts from his childhood won’t let him stop.’
‘I think I need more wine,’ said Simone.
Gabrielle held out her own champagne flute as Simone reached for the bottle. ‘Hit me.’
‘Don’t tempt me,’ muttered Simone as she refilled Gabrielle’s glass and then her own. ‘We probably shouldn’t talk about brothers, you and me.’
‘No, we probably shouldn’t.’ Gabrielle smiled faintly. ‘By the way, I saw yours again today. I really thought I’d be able to handle it. Handle him. I couldn’t.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Simone. ‘I’ve yet to meet a woman who can. A word of advice, Gaby, from my heart to yours. Luc changed after you left. He grew up, grew tough, and got guarded. He’s not an easy man to know. Not an easy man to love. Believe me, plenty have tried.’
‘Is that a warning?’
‘More a plea to be careful,’ said Simone. ‘You used to be able to turn Luc’s head with a glance and I doubt you’ve lost the knack. Getting him to lay down his heart is a different matter altogether. Just…be careful.’
Gabrielle played with the blades of grass beneath her fingertips. ‘I didn’t come back for him, Simone. I don’t even know if I still want him. I haven’t forgotten what came of wanting him before.’
‘Neither has he,’ murmured Simone. ‘My advice was for if you were still interested in him. If you’re not, then maybe all you need do is talk with him about what happened all those years ago and see if you can both put it behind you. Maybe that’s the way to handle this.’
‘You mean be civilised,’ said Gabrielle. ‘Me and Luc.’
Simone’s lips twitched. ‘Yes.’
‘Civilised sounds wonderful,’ said Gabrielle wistfully. ‘Except for the dredging up the past bit. You don’t suppose there’s a way of being all civilised and restrained without bringing up the past at all?’
‘Well, you could try,’ said Simone thoughtfully. ‘Why don’t you come over to Caverness tomorrow afternoon and take a wander through the gardens with me? You could stay for a meal. Try again with Josien if you’ve a mind to, although I don’t fully recommend it. You could attempt a civil discussion with Luc. See if you can find common ground that isn’t rooted in the past. Ask his opinion on setting up a distribution arm here for your Australian reds. Make him feel useful. Men like that.’
‘Then what?’ said Gabrielle somewhat sceptically.
‘Then you mention your fiancé.’
‘I don’t have a fiancé.’
‘Not sure you need to mention that.’ Simone started grinning and it wasn’t because of the bubbles. ‘All right, forget the non-existent fiancé. Set the boundaries for your relationship with Luc some other way—but set them nonetheless. Maybe Luc will follow your lead.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
‘Run,’ said Simone, and kept right on grinning. ‘Damn, I’ve missed you. Here’s to hilltop reunions, restraint when dealing with troublesome men, and laying to rest the ghosts of our past.’
‘Hear hear,’ said Gabrielle and lifted her near-empty not-plastic champagne flute to her lips. Where had all the champagne gone? ‘Restraint, you said?’
‘Civilised restraint,’ amended Simone. ‘Nothing to it. More champagne?’
Gabrielle hesitated. ‘Didn’t you just fill my glass?’
‘They’re very little glasses,’ said Simone sneakily. ‘May I remind you we’re talking Chateau Caverness 1955 here? This isn’t just any old champagne.’
Indeed it wasn’t. ‘All right,’ said Gabrielle, and reached for the magnum with what she thought was a great deal of restraint, never mind Simone’s descent into helpless laughter. ‘Maybe just one.’
CHAPTER THREE
AT FIVE pm the following afternoon, after an evening of laughter with Simone followed by half a day of sleep, Gabrielle drove, yet again, through the entrance to Chateau des Caverness and parked her car in the gravel courtyard next to the servants’ quarters. Ignoring the door to her childhood completely, she switched on her mobile and found the number Simone had keyed into the phone last night.
‘Where are you?’ she said when Simone answered the phone.
‘In the orchard, waiting for you,’ said Simone. ‘And if you’ve waited until now to tell me you’re not coming I’m going to be very very annoyed.’
‘I’m here,’ said Gabrielle. ‘I just didn’t want to walk through three acres of garden looking for you, that’s all. I’m not exactly wearing sensible shoes.’
‘Colour me intrigued,’ said Simone. ‘I thought you’d be wearing something restrained.’
‘I am wearing something restrained,’ said Gabrielle. Her square necked knee-length plum-coloured sundress was very restrained. She’d even plaited her wayward hair and woven it into a heavy bun on top of her head, princess style, and secured it with a thousand pins. She’d followed up with the application of very subtle, very expensive, make-up and only the merest dash of her favourite perfume. She was a walking, talking picture of stylish restraint. ‘Except for the shoes.’
The leather sandals with their delicate straps and flimsy heel were an exercise in idiocy. Idiocy being the word that summed up Gabrielle’s thoughts on accepting Simone’s invitation to tour the gardens and stay for dinner afterwards. Civilised restraint was all well and good in theory. Putting it into practice was hard.
‘Take your shoes off, then, and come around the front way on the grass,’ suggested Simone.
‘That’s not exactly civilised,’ said Gabrielle. ‘It’s a little unrestrained.’
‘Do it anyway,’ said Simone with a snicker. ‘Get all that wild abandon out of your system now so that when you happen across Luc there’ll be none left for him.’
‘You’re making a surprising amount of sense,’ muttered Gabrielle.
‘I always do,’ said Simone as Gabrielle reached the stone wall, slipped off her shoes, and stepped