The Lavender Garden Read Online Free PDF Page B

your family. So I thought I’d stop off and take a look for myself at the château I’d heard so much about. This really is the most beautiful village.”
    “Yes, it is,” she answered, nonplussed by this strange conversation.
    “So, Emilie, do you live at the château?”
    “No,” she replied, uncomfortable with his direct line of questioning. “I currently live in Paris.”
    “Where I have many friends,” Sebastian enthused. “One day, I hope to spend more time in France, but for now I’m still establishing my reputation in the UK. Not being able to get my hands on the Chagall for my client is very disappointing. It would have been my first negotiation in the big league.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Thank you. I’ll get over it. You wouldn’t have any priceless paintings which you wanted to shift hanging around in that château of yours, would you?” Sebastian’s eyes were full of humor.
    “I’m not sure,” she replied truthfully. “Valuing the art in the château is on my list of things to do.”
    “I’m sure you’ll be using one of the top Paris experts to authenticate and value the collection. But if you needed a knowledgeable and very much on-the-spot eye to guide you in the interim, I would behappy to oblige.” As Sebastian’s croque-monsieur arrived, he drew out his wallet and passed Emilie a card. “Promise I’m kosher,” he emphasized. “I can provide references from my clients if necessary.”
    “It’s very kind of you, but our family notaire is dealing with all that kind of thing.” Emilie could hear the hauteur in her voice.
    “Of course.” He poured them both some more rosé and tackled his croque-monsieur. “So,” he said, swiftly changing the subject, “what do you do with yourself in Paris?”
    “I work as a vet in a large practice in the Marais Quarter. The money is not very good, but I love it.”
    “Really?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “I’m surprised. I’d have thought, coming from the family you do, that you’d be involved in something very glamorous, if you even needed to work at all.”
    “Yes, that’s what everyone assumes . . . I’m sorry, but I really must go.” Emilie signaled hurriedly for the bill.
    “I do apologize, Emilie, that sounded trite,” Sebastian said immediately. “What I meant to say is, good on you! I really didn’t mean to insult you.”
    An urge to get away from this man and his persistent questions suddenly assailed her. Emilie reached for her bag, took some francs out of her purse and put them on the table. “It was nice to meet you,” she said as she picked up Frou-Frou and walked smartly away from the table. She descended the steep stone steps toward her car as hurriedly as she could, feeling ridiculously shaken and tearful.
    “Emilie! Please, wait!”
    Taking no notice of the voice behind her, she continued walking down the steps determinedly until Sebastian caught up with her.
    “Look,” he said, panting, “I’m really sorry if I offended you. I seem to have a knack of doing that.” Sebastian kept pace with her as she continued walking. “If it’s any consolation, I was born with endless baggage too. Including a crumbling mansion on the Yorkshire moors that I’m meant to somehow restore and save, when there’s not a bean to pay for it.”
    They’d reached the car and Emilie had no choice but to stand still. “Then why don’t you sell it?”
    “Because it’s part of my heritage and”—he shrugged—“it’s complicated.Anyway, I’m not throwing you a sob story, just trying to explain that I know how it is to be defined by your past. I’m there too.”
    Emilie searched silently for the car key in her bag.
    “I’m not trying to compete with you,” Sebastian continued, “merely trying to say I empathize.”
    “Thank you.” She’d found her car key. “I must go now.”
    “Am I forgiven?”
    She turned and looked at him, despairing of her own sensitivity, yet unable to control it. “I