Page 35 of All the Gossip from Paris
Sophie slowed the car, and indicated to turn off the main road. “Not far now,” she said. The Audi slipped into a smaller side road.
A short time later, they came to another intersection and Liam caught sight of various road signs all pointing toward the Palace of Versailles. Ahead of them was a long line of tourist motorcoaches. To his relief, Sophie turned right, away from the crush of traffic.
“You should see it at the height of summer. Completely insane. I don’t bother to use my car at all during August. I let one of our drivers deal with the traffic while I sit in the back.”
Five minutes later, she slowed the car once more and they turned off the road. A long winding driveway appeared ahead of them. Liam sat forward in his seat taking in the view.
Meadows with ice crusted grass stretched out on either side of them. The odd tall tree dotted the landscape. Sophie pointed toward the right. “The River Seine runs along the bottom of our estate. I take our dog Rollo out walking along it most mornings.”
“You have a dog? What kind?”
“He’s a Briard. A type of French sheepdog. Not that we have any sheep.”
He wanted to ask more about the dog. But as the car reached the top of a short rise, Liam got his first glimpse of Sophie’s home.
“Holy shit,” he muttered.
Commanding a great presence over the landscape was a huge chateau—a castle towering over four levels, topped with a black slate roof. At the front of the building rose a grand staircase. He could just picture Cinderella running down it and losing her glass slipper on the way.
“It’s been in our family for over two hundred years. Apparently one of the Royals got it cheaply after the French Revolution. Quite a few of the nobles lost their heads to Madame Guillotine, so there were plenty of chateaux in need of new owners.”
Liam snorted. Sophie had a macabre sense of humor, but he actually liked it. She was fun.
“Ryan had said your home was large, but I hadn’t quite figured it to be that large,” said Liam.
His brother’s new family lived in a castle. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite get his head around the whole thing.
As the driveway came to an end, Sophie turned the steering wheel to the left, and they made a wide circuit of the main house. The rear of the chateau was in stark contrast to the front. A large modern concrete like bunker covered with grass and plants caught Liam’s eye. Upon closer inspection he realized what it was—an underground parking garage.
Now that’s a clever piece of architecture.
The garage wasn’t big by commercial standards, but it still had quite a few cars parked inside. “Papa had this built about twenty years ago when he relocated his atelier from central Paris to here. The craftspeople who work for him can park underneath and not have to deal with the weather. It also houses the various car collections of the male members of the family. My brothers and father own far too many automobiles for people who don’t drive,” explained Sophie.
She pulled the car up at a parking space which had a sign on the wall marked ‘Sophie,’ then turned off the engine.
“We can go visit the atelier today because the staff have all taken the week off for the wedding. Papa has been working on Camille’s wedding dress, and he didn’t want anyone else to disturb him.”
“Will he mind if we go inside?” asked Liam. The last thing he wanted to do was get on the wrong side of his brother’s father in law mere days from the wedding.
“No. I checked with Cami while you were getting your things at the hotel. Her final fitting has been completed. She has her dress hanging in one of the spare bedrooms, so we can go up to the workshop without fear of incurring Papa’s wrath.”
They both climbed out the car. As Sophie locked it, she turned to Liam.
“My father isn’t an ogre—he is just meticulous in the way he works. A bead in the wrong place could ruin an expensive garment, and potentially lose him a client.”
Liam nodded. He understood. François Royal didn’t suffer fools. Having lost count of the number of idiots who’d stepped in front of him as he tried to take a photo on a shoot, he could well understand that sort of mindset.
Sophie pointed toward a nearby doorway. “Come on. Let’s go up to the atelier space and continue your education of all things haute couture. If you pay close attention, then I might let you meet Rollo.”
Her gentle teasing woke something in Liam that he’d thought long dead. A spark of silly joy. It reminded him of a time when he’d been genuinely happy. When an amazing life had been laid out before him. But that had been before he’d had his heart ripped out and completely crushed.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It was rare for the atelier to be devoid of people. Most days there was someone working in the space. It might be a member of the dressmaking team who’d come in to finalize some hand embroidery. Or perhaps one of the cutters starting on a new order. People came and went as the work dictated.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Sophie turned and waited for Liam. A minute later he arrived huffing and puffing. “I forgot that being in Europe means lots of stairs.”
She’d been climbing up to the atelier since she was a child. Her father’s workshop was a part of the Royal family home, so coming here was no different to running up to her bedroom after having been outside in the grounds of the chateau.
