Page 47 of All the Gossip from Paris (Royal Fashion #2)

Bending she placed a tender kiss on his forehead. “Get some rest Papa.”

And then she headed for the door.

* * *

A dejected Liam didn’t bother joining the Royals for lunch. He couldn’t face sitting down to eat with Sophie and her family. There was every chance that Patrice would be there. He simply didn’t have it in him to remain polite over soup, salads, and Coq au Vin.

Instead, he went up to his room and packed his bags. After buying a standby ticket to New York, Liam booked an Uber to take him into Paris.

He had the security code for Camille and Ryan’s apartment. Once they got back from their shopping trip, he’d spend a few hours with them, then head out to the airport. Hopefully he would be able to get on a flight tonight.

He’d spend a couple of days at home in New Jersey. Say hi to his folks. Repack his gear for the warmer climate in Brazil, then get on a cheap flight to S?o Paulo.

Once again Cupid had dangled love in front of him. Then, just as he reached out to grab a hold, whisked it away.

His cell phone pinged with a message. Your driver is approaching.

“Time to go,” he muttered.

Sophie had made her choice. She’d chosen Patrice, and the life she was used to living. Only a fool would hang around any longer and make things awkward for everyone. He’d send his regards and thanks to the Royal family via Camille before he left.

* * *

Sophie knocked on the door to Liam’s room but there was no answer. She turned the handle and pushed it open. A deathly silence greeted her. His suitcase, camera bag, and computer equipment were all gone.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. He’d probably already read the article in French Vogue. Then after having seen her and Patrice, had put two and two together, and come up with a romantic reconciliation.

In the time she’d been in with her father, Liam had packed his things and left the estate.

She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and checked for messages. There were quite a few from Camille. Pictures of adorable baby outfits. Baby shoes. Hats. She’d had even managed to find a pint sized Paris Saint-Germain game shirt which she’d promptly bought despite Ryan’s protests.

After tapping a quick response, Sophie clicked on her other messages. There was nothing from Liam. She couldn’t blame him. If she’d been in his position she would have done the same thing—packed her things and quietly left.

I should have told him how I felt. God, I hope I haven’t left it too late.

Still, it hurt that he hadn’t left at least some sort of message for her. A simple goodbye.

She blinked back tears, angry with herself for not having spoken to him as soon as she’d returned from the river. She’d been so caught up with ensuring she kept the peace with Patrice and her father, she’d let Liam go without a word.

And where had her polite behavior got her? Right back where she always was, behind Patrice in her father’s estimations. Back to being a mere laquais in the atelier. Another cog in the wheel. Back to doing what she was told.

The bizarre idea of bringing her fun loving but completely useless younger brother into the atelier had been the last straw.

“No.”

She scrolled through to Liam’s contact details and hit the call button. To her bone deep relief, he answered almost immediately.

“Hey. Sorry I left without saying goodbye. It just seemed the right thing to do,” he said.

“Where are you?”

“I’ve just arrived at Camille and Ryan’s apartment. I’m going to stay here for a few hours. I’ve got a standby ticket for a flight to New York tonight.”

Tears clouded her sight. Liam was leaving.

“And then where will you go?” she asked.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. Liam cleared his throat. “I’ve got that assignment in Brazil commencing late next week. Apparently, a famous Brazilian supermodel saw the work I did for Camille’s runway show. She liked the way I photographed the models.”

Liam had a real career. He’d built himself up from nothing, and was now a highly sought-after photographer.

While I’m still fighting just to be seen.

It was time to take a chance on him. On them. Push her cautious self out of the way and take a giant leap of faith.

“I’m going to come and see you—just give me a couple of hours to get some things sorted. Please don’t go anywhere. We need to talk.”

“Look, its ok, Soph. You don’t have to explain?—”

“Yeah, I do. It’s not what you think. Please stay where you are, I’m begging you,” she replied, cutting him off before he could get started again. The last thing she wanted was for him to give her an out.

“Um. Alright.”

“Promise. Promise you won’t go getting on any planes and leaving France. I mean it. If I have to come after you I will.”

His laugh trickled down the line. It went straight to her heart. “Pinky promise. I will stay right here.”

She had no idea what a pinky promise was, but if Liam had sworn one then she would hold him to it.

Sophie hung up the call. She was on her way to the door when she suddenly stopped.

Crossing to the window, she threw back the latch, and pushed it open.

Icy wind blew in from outside, but she didn’t care.

Leaning forward, hands resting against the window ledge, she took in the winter landscape below.

She’d walked these grounds almost every day of her life. Knew the paths and laneways like the back of her hand. This was a comfortable existence. One she’d forced herself to make peace with, to accept that such privilege came at a cost. But she wasn’t prepared to pay that heavy price anymore.

The world was calling. Sophie Royal was ready to answer.

* * *

In the living room of Camille’s elegant apartment in the 6 th arrondissement, Liam paced back and forth across the floor. Every so often he’d stop and check his messages. The airline hadn’t yet found him a seat on a flight to the US.

Sophie had said she needed a couple of hours to get things done. The easy way out would be to go to the airport and wait. Send her a text that he wished her well, but that he’d had to leave.

I can’t do that.

He’d sworn a pinky promise to wait for her arrival. Those things were sacred. He would wait and then listen to whatever she had to say. Worst case she didn’t want him. If they made peace with their farewell, that would be good for everyone.

“It will make life a lot easier for Ryan and Camille when the baby arrives,” he consoled himself. Maintaining a cordial relationship between the families was important.

At the sound of a key pad being activated, Liam stopping his pacing. As Camille stepped through the door, he forced a smile to his lips.

“Oh, hello. We weren’t expecting to see you,” she said.

Ryan who was loaded up with shopping bags followed his wife into the apartment. “Hey. I thought you were staying out at the chateau.”

He dumped the bags in the nearest empty corner, and came over to where Liam stood.

Ryan had known Liam was going to try and talk to Sophie.

He may as well come out and say it plain.

“I think Sophie and Patrice have got back together. Francois said as much in that interview he gave to French Vogue. And you know how it goes, three’s a crowd.

If its ok with you guys, I’ll stay here for a little bit then head out to the airport.

I’m on standby for a flight to New York tonight. ”

“Oh no,” sighed Camille. Liam could have hugged her for the sad look on her face. She’d clearly been Team Liam.

“Sophie called a little while ago; she is on her way here. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her before I left. I’m guessing she wants to make sure we don’t part on bad terms,” he explained.

Camille came to stand alongside her husband. Ryan slipped his arm about his wife’s waist, as best he could.

“I read Papa’s interview, and I can’t believe my sister would really go back to Patrice. That man has hurt her so many times in the past. If she has given in to pressure, get ready for a lot of shouting once she gets here. You’ll learn some French words that they don’t use in those language apps.”

Ryan gave her a worried look. “I thought it was bad enough that you had learned so many cuss words in English. I dread to think what you can say in your native tongue.”

She patted him on the arm. “If I get into it with Sophie, you might want to cover your ears.”

* * *

It took longer than she’d hoped to get things sorted. It didn’t help that she was in a terrible panic. The clock was ticking down to two o’clock.

Her mother and various other family members, along with Patrice, were still in the dining room. On the stroke of two, lunch would be over. She had to be out of here and on her way to Paris well before then.

Sophie wasn’t a coward. She was just saving all her bravery for when she caught up with Liam. But before she left, she had one last thing she had to do.

From under her bed, she retrieved the box which contained the diamond bracelet Patrice had given to her at Christmas. She put it in an envelope, along with a note which read. ‘I cannot keep this gift. I hope you understand. Sophie.’

It might not mean all that much to her ex, but it would help ease her conscious. She left the envelope on the bed, along with another note asking her mother to hand the package to Patrice.

Suitcases packed, Sophie lugged them down the back stairs. Her arms and legs protested the whole way.

At the underground parking garage, she pulled her car out of its space, then loaded her cases into the back. Her heart was racing as she climbed into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine.

“Ok, quick check. Passport. Credit cards. Cash. ESTA applied for,” she muttered. Worst case, if her travel authorization was delayed, she’d hide out in Paris until it came through.

She’d just put the car into reverse when a face appeared at the driver’s side window. Sophie screamed. “Fuck! éliott, what are you doing?”

He opened the door, then glanced at her suitcases.

“Are you running away from home?”

Guilty as charged.

“I… I just need to go into Paris and see someone. Figure some things out,” she stammered. Her heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour.

“Come on. Swap seats. I’ll drive. You’re a complete maniac behind the wheel,” he said.

She was in no mood to argue. Sophie put the car in park. She got out of the driver’s seat, and went around to the passenger side. Her brother tossed his travel bag in the back, then got in.

“Your apartment in town?” he asked.

“Cami’s actually, but yes, same building. I’m hoping to speak to Liam.”

éliott grinned at her. “That’s my girl. Now buckle up—we are about to take on the motorway. Not to mention a few thousand bad-tempered Parisian drivers.”

Her seatbelt was in her hand before he’d finished his sentence. Her younger sibling who lived and breathed the world of motor racing, was all about speed.

Sophie gripped the edge of her seat as éliott slammed the car into reverse. He spun the steering wheel round like a professional rally driver.

Thank god I missed lunch.

The moment they were clear of the main door of the parking garage, her brother hit the accelerator. The back of the car fishtailed, causing Sophie to question many of her life’s choices.

As they neared the front of the house, éliott reached over and tapped Sophie on the leg. “Slide lower in the seat. I’ve just spotted Patrice coming out the main entrance. He’s heading for the steps.”

Her ex was the last person she wanted to see. Sophie scooched as low as she could, then hit the recline button. By the time the car passed the front door, she was well hidden.

éliott casually waved to Patrice. He chuckled. “He’s now wondering two things. Why am I driving your car? And where the hell is Sophie? That should give his tiny little brain something to ponder for a while.”

From her near horizontal position, Sophie laughed. She wished she could see Patrice’s face. He’d eventually figure out what had happened. But right now, she was loving her grand escape far too much to care.

Her cell phone pinged. It was Patrice.

Where are you?

At home. Lying down for a rest.

It wasn’t a complete lie.

When they reached the end of the long estate driveway, Sophie righted her seat. “Thank you. It would have been really awkward if he’d seen me.”

“So have you finally got Patrice out of your system?” asked éliott.

“Yes,” she replied, without hesitation. He had been out of her heart for a long time. Starting today, he was officially out of her life.

As éliott turned the car sharply onto the main road, Sophie glanced back briefly at the chateau. She’d traveled away from the family estate many times before, but today felt different. In her heart she sensed that when she eventually returned, it would no longer be her home.

“Is this how it feels every time you leave? Like you are escaping?” she asked.

“Yeah. Though I was never a prisoner here—not like you and Camille. Once you’re gone, Papa’s going to be learning some hard truths about his business. And each one of them will be well deserved.”

Sophie turned to face the road ahead. The traffic was all moving in the one direction, toward Paris.

Her leaving wasn’t about revenge. It wasn’t about trying to hurt her father. It was none of those things. It was everything about living her own life.