A Gown of Thorns: A Gripping Novel of Romance, Intrigue and the Secrets of a Vintage Parisian Dress Read Online Free PDF Page B

making a note to raise the matter in the morning. Fed up with worry and with her bed holding no appeal, she decided to take a walk and perhaps watch her first dawn break over Chemignac.
    Owls screeched a welcome as she stepped outside again and Shauna set off to see if she could get sight of them. She hadn’t gone many steps along the cypress tree track when she noticed the steady glow of light in the winery. She’d had a patchy night’s sleep and somebody hadn’t even begun his.

Chapter Four
    O pening the door of the chai noiselessly, Shauna peered inside, blinking in the glare of the strip-lighting. Laurent had his back to her and she watched him move slowly along the row of oak casks. At each one, he bent down and she heard liquid trickle into some kind of container. Conscious that she was lurking, she called out, ‘Hello. Good evening – or morning. I’m not sure which it is.’ She moved forward, anticipating his surprise. ‘I saw lights and thought – have you been working all night?’
    ‘I suppose.’ Laurent frowned as if he couldn’t work out how she’d manifested in front of him. A plastic jar in his hand brimmed with red liquor and Shauna’s nostrils caught fruit-filled, leathery richness. It affected her senses and she blurted out, ‘I’m sorry I was rude earlier.’
    Laurent shook his head. ‘You were rude? To me?’
    ‘I stormed out!’
    ‘You did?’
    So he didn’t even notice her when she had a hissy-fit! But now she was close enough to him to make out the bubbles on the surface of his test jar. Their faint tremor suggested Laurent’s grip was not quite steady. Was he exhausted? His outer clothes, drenched several hours ago, had dried against his body like shrink-wrap. She saw once again how muscular he was, though in the unobtrusive way of someone who fuels himself well and burns it off in continuous manual labour. Her lovers had always been fellow academics, soft-limbed men, often hopelessly impractical. What would it feel like to hold this taut form in her arms, to rouse him and satisfy him while teasing out the intelligence of his mind?
    ‘Shauna?’
    ‘Oh, sorry.’ Her voice slipped gear as she explained, ‘I made that catty comment about pub quizzes and slammed out. Well, not slammed, exactly. Stomped.’
    ‘Ah.’ Laurent’s brow cleared. ‘At the time, I did not understand… Not sure I do now, but thank you for apologising. Not that you need to. Being lumbered with the dynamite duo would fray most people’s tempers.’
    ‘You mean Olive and Nico? I don’t know why you’re so down on them. They’re great kids.’
    ‘I think so too, but greater proximity has taught me that they’re also demanding and needy. Don’t get me wrong, I love them very much and if I’m angry, it’s with others, not with them. You will come to understand the situation better in time, but I warn you, you have entered the terrain of emotional trip-wires. No amount of kindness can supply what they need most.’
    That didn’t sound promising.
    He bent his mouth in sympathy. ‘Isabelle hopes you will make them happy, but my little cousins are fundamentally not happy. I should know, I recognise myself in them. You will try your best, but they will wear you out. Chemignac will wear you out.’
    That sounded an even less joyous prospect, but Shauna managed to laugh. ‘I don’t flinch at a challenge. I’ll make it work.’ Had she said the wrong thing again? His expression hardened and his reply slashed at her confidence.
    ‘Shauna, you’re a stranger here. No –’ he corrected himself, ‘a visitor and you don’t yet perceive the complicated strands that weave us together. You were offended when I called you the “au pair”?’
    ‘Of course! You implied that the children were being palmed off on a lesser being.’
    ‘Not at all!’ Red liquid splashed on Laurent’s feet as he raised his hands, forgetting he was holding a jar. He was still barefoot, Shauna noticed, and ruby tears