Heaven Scent (19 page)

‘Oh, it did,’ Delphine returned sharply. ‘But we are used to loss.’

‘Are you?’ Cat leant forward. ‘Does anyone ever get used to loss? I was talking to Seraphina about this and I think that all that happens is that maybe you get stronger with each blow.’

‘Seraphina? Why?’ There was a brittle edge to Delphine’s tone.

Deciding she had nothing to lose as she was leaving soon, Cat carried on. ‘She . . . and Max too . . . they both seem a bit . . . depressed. Seraphina told me about Elizabeth’s death. Have they had any proper counselling?’

‘Counselling?’ Delphine snorted. ‘They don’t need counselling ! They need discipline. Rules, regulations and boundaries to keep them under control. That’s all there is to it.’

Discipline? Cat gave Delphine an earnest look. ‘It’s just that . . . I had counselling when my parents died and it really helped me. I know it sounds like a load of rubbish but talking about things can make such a difference. Max and Seraphina just seem as though . . . as though they’re really hurting,’ she ended lamely.

‘Well, thank you for your opinion,’ Delphine said tightly. ‘I’m beginning to see that it’s part of your charm, offering your thoughts on anything and everything.’

Recoiling, Cat went bright red. Delphine stood up, leaning on her cane.

‘Thank you for the chat,’ she said primly. ‘I have some errands to run but please use my car to go back to the château. I can easily call another.’ She left with her back erect and her snow-white chignon rigidly in place.

Cat stared after her, feeling as though she’d been dismissed.

 

Later that afternoon, Guy hurled the phone down with a howl of frustration. He had been trying to get hold of the family accountant for the past three hours and being told he would need to be put on hold again was just too much.

Leaning back in his chair tiredly, Guy rubbed his eyes. He was normally so in control. What the hell was the matter with him? He pushed all the paperwork on his desk to one side and left the room. His mother called him bossily from her quarters (how did she even know he was out of his office?) but Guy ignored her and headed downstairs. Gathering up his car keys, he went outside, his shoes crunching on the gravel driveway. He needed to get away. From La Fleurie, from the business, but most of all from his family.

Jumping into the silver and grey Bugatti Veyron Elizabeth had treated him to for his fiftieth birthday, Guy shot down the driveway at high speed. His head was pounding as though it was going to explode, but Guy knew it was just stress. His children were driving him nuts, for one thing. They all seemed to be going off the rails at the moment and he was at a loss to know how to deal with them.

Seraphina, admittedly not the most academic of children, was so focused on becoming a model she was neglecting her studies, according to the report Guy had just received from the college the twins attended. She would need to repeat a year if she wasn’t careful, Guy thought, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he shot round a sharp bend. All these silly notions of becoming a model – Guy shook his head disapprovingly. Seraphina was beautiful, no one thought that more than he did. She was the very image of her mother, something Guy found both endearing and heart-wrenching. Elizabeth would want Seraphina to get an education, he told himself fiercely, completely forgetting that all Elizabeth had ever wanted was for her children to be happy.

As for Max, Guy thought, swerving to avoid a car that was on his side of the road, he had such an attitude – all that scowling and backchat. If he behaved like that at school, he’d get thrown out if he wasn’t careful.

Xavier worried him too. He had gone badly downhill since Elizabeth’s death. Who would have thought he would stop working in the business the way he had? Was it really just Elizabeth’s death that had affected Xavier? Guy wondered. He vaguely remembered a woman Xavier had been seeing at the time, a stunning, sexy girl who did something arty for a living. She had disappeared around the same time they had buried Elizabeth but if it had damaged Xavier in some way, he wasn’t talking about it.

Taking a hairpin bend at speed, Guy smashed his hand on the steering wheel. What had gone wrong with his family? They were out of control – all somehow lost and screwed up. Guy felt tears pricking his eyes and he wiped a hand across his face, hearing a loud horn as though it was in the distance. Quickly, he grabbed the steering wheel again and his eyes widened in horror as he realised he was millimetres from smashing into a sleek red Ferrari. Veering wildly to avoid a collision, Guy briefly saw the bald, ageing man who was driving the Ferrari mouthing off to his bimbo girlfriend. Shuddering to a halt, Guy felt his heart racing. That had been a close call. He had taken his eye off the road for a mere second but he had been driving so fast, he had nearly caused a major accident.

He got out of the car shakily. He leant on the bonnet, yelping as he burnt his hand. Fuck! The Bugatti’s engine was hot enough to sear a steak on. He stared out across the Provençal countryside desperately. Why was he alone? Why wasn’t Elizabeth here to help him, to guide him towards making the right decisions for their children? Not even realising his cheeks were wet with tears, Guy stood by his car helplessly. Elizabeth was gone and he was going to have to face up to it. And somehow, he needed to figure out what it was his children needed.

More discipline, he thought grimly as he flung himself back in the car. That was what Max and Seraphina needed, at any rate. As for Xavier . . .

Feeling heavy hearted, Guy realised he had absolutely no idea how he could reconnect with his elder son.

 

Leoni was on her way to a candle shop to meet the owner, Jerard Monville. In her sports car with the top down and an Hermès scarf fluttering behind her, Leoni looked glamorous and in control. She still felt Olivier’s loss acutely but she was determined to get on with her life and prove to her family that she was capable of masterminding her home fragrance idea.

Leoni thought about the trip to England. It had been wonderful, and just what she had needed. Her research had gone well; visits to Jo Malone, Miller Harris and a few other stores had been both productive and inspiring. Ashton had been a good friend, listening patiently to her rants about Olivier, and Joyce and Arthur had been the perfect hosts, attentive, friendly but not too intrusive, and Leoni had eaten heartily, better than she had in a long time.

She let out a sigh of satisfaction. She was glad Ashton had suggested the trip. It had been good to get away from home and everything associated with Olivier, Cat Hayes included. And more importantly, creative thoughts about possibilities for the Ducasse-Fleurie line had been flowing ever since the trip. Leoni’s notebook was positively bulging with ideas and sketches. She wanted to make sure her home fragrance concept had something different, something which made it stand out from other products on the market. What exactly she needed was eluding her for the time being, but Leoni was confident she would come up with a winning formula by the time she presented the campaign to Guy.

She glanced down at her mocha-brown dress with matching heels in soft brown suede and checked that her trademark slick of red lipstick was intact before getting out of her car. Standing outside the shop, Leoni thought it looked rather unimpressive; it was small and the sign above the main window badly needed painting. But as she stepped inside the cool, darkly lit building, Leoni caught her breath.

Candles in all shapes and sizes sat on every available surface in the slightly rounded room, and with its low, starstudded ceiling, Leoni felt as though she had stumbled into a magical cave. Behind the counter, black and white boxes were stacked up on top of one another and there were piles of glossy tissue paper in all the colours of the rainbow for wrapping.

‘Hello,’ said a pleasant-looking man of around thirty with light brown hair. He was wearing scruffy jeans and a black T-shirt with multi-coloured splashes of candle wax splattered from neck to hem. ‘Leoni Ducasse, I assume.’ His eyes twinkled at her in the dim light, their colour unidentifiable. ‘I’m Jerard Monville. Welcome to my shop.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ she responded formally. ‘Sorry I’m a few minutes late.’

Jerard smiled, giving her a discreet once-over. ‘No problem at all. Would you like to see the team at work?’ He gestured behind him. ‘This place is bigger than it looks.’

Leading the way, he showed Leoni round a small workshop which was neatly kitted out with rows of counters and shelves containing moulds of different shapes and sizes. Staff members were lined up behind counters peeling moulds away from candles and efficiently wrapping them in crisp white tissue paper. Another set of people were responsible for packing them up into boxes, which they were doing carefully but with some speed.

‘We’re a happy team here,’ Jerard said as he held a door open for her.

She accidentlly brushed against him as she went into his office and, flustered, she apologised. She noticed that he had quite a Gallic nose, but it suited him.

‘No need,’ Jerard said with an easy grin, making it clear he’d be happy if it happened again.

‘Right. Good.’

Edgily, Leoni pulled out the fat notebook she used for all her ideas and took a seat by Jerard’s desk. Her business meetings were usually conducted quickly with suited types who watched the clock even more than she did. ‘I sent you some information but, basically, candles are a love of mine. I’d like us to produce a good range of luxury items using some signature Ducasse fragrances.’

Instead of taking a seat behind his desk, Jerard leant against it and pushed his hands into his pockets casually. ‘Sounds like a great idea. You sent me some fragrance phials a while back and I’d be interested to get your feedback on the sample I’ve knocked up. While I dig it out, have a look at this. I did some estimates based on the quantities you told me about.’

Leoni was taken aback at how organised Jerard was. Considering how laid-back he appeared, he certainly knew what he was doing. She skimmed through the numbers and couldn’t help being impressed. To have such detailed figures, Jerard must have done a great deal of research into Ducasse-Fleurie.

‘And what sort of deal could you offer for orders of a much larger size?’ she asked aggressively when Jerard returned bearing a box. She felt the need to assert her authority.

Before he could answer, a pretty brunette entered the room carrying a cup of coffee. ‘Here you are, Jerard,’ she said, handing him the cup. She was dressed in a simple yellow T-shirt and jeans that somehow looked provocative on her curves. She gave Jerard a wide smile before turning to Leoni. ‘Er, sorry. Would you like something to drink?’

Leoni shook her head.

‘My assistant,’ Jerard explained as the girl disappeared. ‘Now, where were we? Ah, yes, a deal. Well, we can discuss that as and when it happens.’ Jerard pushed the box towards her. ‘Go ahead, open it.’

Leoni lifted the lid and pulled out a bundle wrapped in snowy white tissue paper. She gasped as the tissue came away to reveal a beautiful white candle, encased in glass, with a small white and lilac label on the front. There were three wicks poking out of the top of the candle and it felt heavy and luxurious.

‘Wow.’ Leoni caught a waft of something familiar and moved her nose closer. The candle was imbued with the aroma of L’Air Sensuel and it smelt divine. Delighted, she looked up at Jerard with shining eyes. ‘It’s lovely . . . really. Perfect, in fact.’

Jerard grinned. ‘Glad you like it. The design can be changed – the candles can be any colour you like and any shape. Here’s a brochure. We can do it in glass, silver, trio box sets, single items in packaging of your choice . . . so many decisions.’ His eyes twinkled at her again. ‘Perhaps we should go out to dinner so we can talk about it properly.’

Leoni almost dropped the candle. Was he asking her out? No one ever asked her out! Men tended to find her intimidating, especially when they met her to discuss business, but Jerard seemed completely at ease with her. She blushed as Jerard’s blue eyes flirted with hers. Was he genuinely attracted to her or was this just a ploy to get a better business deal? She was hardly dressed to seduce; her brown dress suited her figure but it wasn’t exactly sexy. It was professional and formal, just the way she liked to appear.

Jerard leant forward, his expression now sober. ‘I am passionate about business . . . I’ve built my company up from nothing and it’s my life. Nothing is more important. I’d still like to take you out to dinner, if you’d like to come?’

Leoni nodded and busied herself putting the candle and her notes into her bag. She was attracted to him; she couldn’t deny it. His passion for business, the way he talked about his company, it was exactly how she felt about Ducasse-Fleurie. Leoni faltered. She had never met anyone whose business focus matched hers . . . well, Ashton, perhaps, but he was an architect; it wasn’t the same thing. Something about Jerard’s intense gaze was making Leoni feel wobbly around the knees. Going against her staunch belief that she should never mix business and pleasure, she found herself agreeing to dinner at the weekend.

Absurdly flattered, she left the factory on a high. Men so rarely asked her out.

She felt buoyed up and sparkling with enthusiasm, something she hadn’t felt since Olivier died.

 

Delphine put the phone down and surveyed her pristine office with satisfaction. Decorated in cool blues and greys with white furniture and its own
balcon
overlooking the fields to the side of the stables, it was a serene and restful space.

Organising the event to celebrate Rose-Nymphea was turning out to be easier than she had thought and it was all coming together nicely. They had the perfect venue in La Fleurie so she didn’t need to worry about hiring somewhere at short notice and the colour scheme was easy because she could simply use the signature Ducasse-Fleurie colours, lilac and white. Several guests had already verbally accepted, even though the invites hadn’t gone out yet, and she had been able to line up a dazzling group of celebrities who happened to be in the area.