Page 59 of Beyond the Lavender Fields
Warm.
Fierce.
He drew in a sharp breath, still as the stone beneath him. A thrill coursed up his spine. He had barely a moment to drink in the fullness of her lips against his skin before she broke away.
“I dare you to call that a conquest,” she whispered in his ear. The pressure around his neck dissolved as she released his lapel and turned. She sauntered toward the carriage as though she hadn’t just stopped time, stopped the rotation of the earth. Sunbeams danced through the garden, lavender rustled, bees mumbled their final harmonies.
And Gilles sat panting in the grandeur of the summery Provençal countryside, unable to fathom what had happened.
“Étienne!”
He blinked. Monsieur Daubin had finally appeared and was now assisting his daughter into the carriage. Gilles bolted to his feet and hurried over, eyes on the ground to keep from stumbling on shaky legs.
She’d kissed him. He hadn’t even managed to kiss her back.
“Are you well?” Daubin asked, bringing a hand to Gilles’s shoulder before he could enter the coach.
“Yes,monsieur. Perfectly.” Perfectly confused. At least her father hadn’t witnessed that scene.
His employer gave a nod, then motioned him inside where Caroline greeted him with an indifferent nod and beat of her fan.
Only the twinkle in her eye let on that she knew she’d utterly muddled his already confused mind.
Of all the foolish actions! This is what happens when you let your heart run wild for only a moment. To make it all worse, he did nothing to goad me. I have only myself to blame for this glorious predicament. It would seem I am the same as all the other girls I like to look down on for being too generous with their favors. But he sat there so thoughtful and serene, the wind smoothing back his rebellious hair. I could almost imagine him at the rail of a ship, drinking in the invigorating breath of the sea. How was I to resist?
I told myself I wanted only to prove the difference, to show him what he missed in his ridiculous games with Maxence and Émile. I lied to myself. I really just wanted to kiss him.
And I did.
Oh, Sylvie, I’ve made such a disaster of this! What will happen between us now? What will happen now that I’ve let my heart take the reins? So many terrible things.
Yet, I cannot bring myself to regret it more than I enjoyed it, nor can I force myself to hope it never happens again.
Heaven help us.
Affectueusement,
Caroline
Monsieur Daubin did not like to get his hands dirty, which made it very difficult for Gilles to keep his face impassive as they made their way through the crowded street ofla Canabière. The day had arrived for the wealthy merchants of Marseille to plant liberty trees to demonstrate their loyalty tola patrie. The soap maker had nearly worn grooves into the floor of his office from pacing that morning. He’d insisted Gilles join him.
“Is your family coming to watch?” Gilles asked, walking half a step behind his employer. He pulled his red cap over his hair as they approached the celebration.
“If I locked her in the Hôtel de Ville, Caroline would still find a way to come.” Monsieur Daubin removed his gloves and stowed them safely in his waistcoat pocket. At least the man had had the foresight to wear trousers instead of breeches today. “She’ll be the death of her mother, that one.”
Caroline. Gilles’s stride quickened of its own accord.
Nearly two days had passed since Caroline kissed him. Thirty-nine hours staring at the wall remembering the sensation of her lips on his, dodging questioning looks from his mother, ignoring thinly veiled laughter from a knowing Florence, and plotting a hundred ways to accidentally meet her on a Sunday. None of the ideas had come to fruition. If only he knew where she now met for mass.
Which would only make matters more dangerous. If she’d found another meeting place for mass, he could not know. That realization was when he stopped trying to devise a meeting and instead held onto the hope that he would see her at today’s planting.
Drums and fifes carried over the chatter of the crowd as the pair moved through the crimson-capped citizens of Marseille. They found a place to stand near a line of young trees, which lay on their sides with roots extended in preparation for planting. The merchants who had attended Daubin’s game ofboulestrudged over when their comrade appeared and left Gilles free to scan the masses for Caroline.
On the opposite side of the street, a dark-haired woman turned the corner with a footman in tow. A grin he couldn’t control broke across Gilles’s face. Caroline wore her white dress again, but this time with no other color at her waist or on her hat. He faltered a step. Surely she wasn’t trying to make a political statement in this crowd by wearing the white of the monarchy.
He sighed. Knowing Caroline, that was exactly her aim.
When he reached her, he held out an arm. A wry look tinted her features for a breath. Then she took his arm quickly, which swept away some of his worry. A woman on the arm of someone wearing a liberty cap would not be harassed. At least, he hoped she wouldn’t. One could never know what would stir thesans-culottesinto a fury.
