“It’s lovely, Archie. I’m so glad you’re painting the courtyard. We’ve spent so many happy hours out here this month. I want to remember it forever, and now we’ll have this.”
“I confess, I did it intending to give it to you as a gift.”
She turned her face up to him, smiling. “It’s the nicest gift you could give me. Thank you.”
He leaned down to kiss her, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek, and for several long minutes, Gen thought of nothing more than her husband as he held her in his strong arms in their sun-splashed courtyard and kissed her.
“I have something else for you,” he said sometime later, when the kiss had ended. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and drew out a letter.
“What is that?”
Archie glanced up at her uneasily. “I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing.”
Gen pressed a hand to her chest. “Hopes about what?”
“Shortly after our wedding, I hired an investigator.”
“What for?”
“To find out what happened to Leo.”
“Oh.” The air abruptly left Gen’s lungs, and she sat down with a “whump” on one of the benches in the courtyard. Archie sat next to her and reached for her hand.
“I’ve finally received a report from the investigator today.”
Gen’s eyes fixed on the letter in Archie’s hand. All these years, she’d half assumed Leo was dead. After all, when the Paris Commune had fallen in the 70s, the police had lined the Communards up against a wall in Père Lachaise Cemetery and shot them dead. She’d been a child, but she remembered it clearly. Surely they’d have done the same to Leo and André?
Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she forced the words out. “What did he say?”
Archie met her gaze with a small smile. “Leo’s alive. He was tried and condemned, then transported to Saint-Laurent-du-Maroni. It’s a—”
“It’s the penal colony in Guiana, in South America,” she finished for him. Good lord. There were stories about Saint-Laurent-du-Maroni. Terrible stories. Oh, Leo… “You said he survived?”
“He was sentenced to five years and released. He settled in Brazil after that. He’s doing well, Gen. He runs a dry goods store in Rio de Janeiro.”
The rush of relief she felt was unexpected. All these years, she’d thought him lost. Dead. But Leo was alive and well in Brazil. “I thought he was dead, but I could never be sure.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to find out the truth. So you could be at peace where he was concerned.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you. It’s a relief to know.”
“There’s more.”
Looking up at Archie, she held her breath at the look in his eyes. “What is it?”
“When he went to trial, Leo cleared your name, Gen. He told them you’d had no part in the plot.”
Gen blinked. “You mean…”
“The police haven’t been looking for you for all these years. In their eyes, you’re an innocent woman.”
A weight she hadn’t been fully aware of was suddenly lifted away. “Does that mean…”
“You can go back to Paris whenever you’d like. You needn’t fear anything.”
Abruptly, her eyes filled with tears. “Paris. I’d never thought to see it again.” Oh, after all these years of remaking herself, banishing the past, she’d almost convinced herself that her early years in Paris had happened to someone else. But they hadn’t. Paris was her home in so many ways—the home she thought she’d never see again.
Archie reached up to swipe a tear away. “I know. Now you can.”
“I could visit my mother’s grave. I don’t even know what became of her…after.”
“I’ve got the investigator looking into that as well. He’ll find her.”
“Oh, Archie.” She threw her arms around his neck. She didn’t know how much she’d wanted this closure until he’d set it in her hands like a gift. “Thank you.”
His arms came around her, holding her close. “I wanted to give you back your life, Gen. All of it. You should have it all, not just the broken bits you were left with.”
“You have,” she said through her happy tears. “You’ve given it all back to me. Thank you, thank you…oh, thank you. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed Paris until now, when I know I can see it again.”
Archie drew back and reached up to hold her face in his hands. “What do you say we make a small visit before we go back to Northumberland?”
They were due to leave Rome next week and travel to England. But instead… Her heart started to beat faster at the thought of setting foot in Paris again.
“You mean when we leave Rome?”
“Let’s go to Paris next, Gen. I’d like the children to see it through your eyes.”
She shook her head. “Our eyes, because you were there too, Archie. Let’s show them our Paris.”
Archie nodded, his eyes full of love and happiness. “Yes. Of course. We can show them where we fell in love.”
Every day, Archie brought so much happiness and peace to her life. Was it possible for him to bring so much more? Her heart felt full to bursting with everything he’d just gifted her. “Yes, let’s go. Let’s find our Paris once more.”
Author’s Note
One of the best parts of finally writing Genevieve’s backstory was getting to write about two of my favorite things: art and Montmartre, particularly the rich artistic landscape of Montmartre near the end of the nineteenth century. I couldn’t resist weaving a few of those historical tidbits into Genevieve’s story. Pierre Jaccoud’s painting of Gen and Archie dancing at the Moulin de la Galette was inspired by Pierre-Auguste Renoir’s Bal du moulin de la Galette, painted in 1876. Genevieve’s last name was inspired by Suzanne Valadon. She is popularly known as an artist’s model, notably for Renoir, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, and Berthe Morisot, but she was a well-regarded artist in her own right, with works now hanging in Le Centre Georges-Pompidou in Paris, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, and many others. Her son was the painter Maurice Utrillo.
Acknowledgements
Many, many thanks to Anne Forlines for pre-reading and, as always, excellent feedback and friendship. Thank you to Monica Manunta-Barnes for making sure I wasn’t offending anyone with my Italian.
Thank you to every reader who asked me about Genevieve’s story. You gave me the push to get it written, so this exists because of you. And thank you to each and every reader of the Grantham Girls series. Writing these books has been one of the most satisfying experiences in my life, and knowing that people have read and enjoyed them means the world to me.
About the Author
Amanda has loved romance since she read that very first Kathleen E. Woodiwiss novel at fifteen. After a long detour into a career as a costume designer in theatre, she’s found her way back to romance, this time as a writer.
A native Floridian, Amanda transplanted to New York City many years ago and now considers Brooklyn home, along with her husband, daughter, two cats, and nowhere near enough space.
Learn more at: www.amandaweavernovels.com/
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Also by Amanda Weaver
Historical Romance:
The Grantham Girls series
A Duchess in Name
A Common Scandal
A Reluctant Betrothal
Contemporary Romance:
This Book Will Change Your Life
Always
Sky High (three stand-alone novel
las)
The Notorious Lady Grantham: A Grantham Girls companion novella Page 12