The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ so I’m going to burn all this off anyway.’

      The journey to the Gare du Nord was quick and uneventful; a short trip on the Métro took them to the Champs Elysées.

      ‘It’s too long since I’ve been to Paris. I’d almost forgotten how lovely it is—all that space in the streets, all the windows and the balconies.’ She gestured across to a terrace on the other side of the street. ‘I love that wrought ironwork.’

      He smiled at her; he recognised that light in her eyes. The same as it had been at the butterfly house, and he’d seen drafts of designs that reminded him of the metalwork in the old Edwardian conservatory. ‘Are you going to get your notebook out and start sketching?’

      She smiled back. ‘Not in the middle of the street. But would you mind if I took some photographs to remind me later?’

      ‘’Course not. Enjoy.’

      They wandered down the street and stopped in a small café. Macaroons were arranged in a cone shape on the counter, showcasing all the different colours available, from deep pink through to browns, yellows and pistachio green.

      ‘I guess we have to try them, as we’re in Paris,’ he said, and ordered macaroons with their coffee.

      ‘This is just lovely. The perfect day.’ Her eyes were all huge and shiny with pleasure—and that in turn made Dylan feel happy, too.

      This was definitely as good as it got.

      And taking her to Paris was the best idea he’d ever had. Romantic and sweet—and this might be the place where he could ask her to change their relationship. Be more than just his co-guardian. If he could find the right words.

      ‘What would you like to do before lunch?’ he asked.

      ‘Are you planning to go somewhere in particular for lunch?’

      ‘Yes. We need to be in the fourth arrondissement at one o’clock, but before then we can go wherever you like. I assume you’d like to go to an art gallery?’

      ‘That’s a tough one,’ she said. ‘Even at this time of day, I think there will be too much of a queue at the Louvre.’ She looked at him. ‘You said the fourth arrondissement, so that means the old quarter. Could we go to Notre Dame and see the grotesques?’

      ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’ve never been. It’d be interesting to see them.’ He’d visited most of the art galleries and museums, as well as the Sacré-Coeur and Montmartre, but he’d never actually been to Notre Dame.

      ‘It’s a bit of a trek up the tower,’ she warned.

      ‘I don’t mind. I know you said you wanted to walk, but how do you feel about going by river?’

      She nodded. ‘That works for me. I love boat trips.’

      He made a mental note; it might be nice to take Tyler to Kew on the river, in the spring.

      When they’d finished their coffee, they took the Batobus along the Seine to the Île de la Cité, with Emmy exclaiming over several famous buildings on the way. They walked up the steps from the bridge, then across the square with the famous vista of Notre Dame and its square double tower and rose window. The stone of the cathedral looked brilliant white against the blue sky.

      ‘I love the shape of the rose window, the way it fans out—almost like the petals of a gerbera crossed with a spiderweb,’ she said.

      ‘Are you thinking a pendant?’ he asked.

      She nodded. ‘Do you mind if I take some pictures?’

      He laughed. ‘You really don’t have to ask me every time, Emmy. Just do it. Today’s for you to enjoy.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She took several photos on her phone, and then they queued at the side of the cathedral to walk up the tower to the galleries.

      ‘I always think of poor Quasimodo, here,’ Emmy said. ‘So deeply in love with Esmeralda, yet afraid she’ll despise him like everyone else does.’

      ‘So you cried over the film?’

      ‘No, over the book,’ she said, surprising him.

      ‘You read Victor Hugo?’ He hadn’t expected that.

      She looked at him. ‘It was one of my set texts for A level.’

      ‘English?’

      ‘French,’ she corrected.

      He blinked. ‘You let everyone think you’re this ditzy designer, but you’re really bright, aren’t you?’

      ‘Don’t sound so surprised. It kind of spoils the compliment.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m really going to have to make you that jet rhino, aren’t I?’

      ‘Hey.’ He gave her a brief hug. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. But you do keep your light under a bushel.’

      ‘Maybe.’

      They walked up the hundreds of spiral steps; the stone was worn at the edges where thousands of people had walked up those steps before them. At the first stage, they had amazing views of the square and the Seine, with the Eiffel Tower looming in the background. They carried on up to the next stage and saw the famous chimera grotesques in the Grande Galerie. Dylan was fascinated by the pelican. ‘And that elephant would look great carved in jet,’ he said.

      ‘For Ty’s Noah’s Ark? Good idea,’ she said.

      ‘So why are the gargoyles here?’ he asked.

      ‘Strictly speaking, gargoyles carry rainwater away from the building. These ones don’t act as conduits; they’re just carvings, so they’re called grotesques. These are Victorian ones, done at the same time as the restoration. And there’s a fabulous legend—see the one sitting over there, looking over the Seine?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Apparently it watches out for people who are drowning, then swoops down and rescues them.’

      He raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that something else you learned for your A level?’

      ‘No. Actually, I can’t even remember where I heard it, but I think it’s a lovely story.’

      Emmy liked the brighter side of life, he noticed. Trust her to know about that sort of legend.

      They walked across to the other tower to see the bell, then back down all the steps.

      ‘Did you want to go inside the cathedral?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes, please. I love the stained glass,’ she said.

      As he’d half expected, she took several photographs of the rose window with its beautiful blue and red glass.

      ‘Is this a Victorian renovation, too?’ he asked.

      ‘Most of this one’s original thirteenth-century glass. If I were you, I’d tell me to shut СКАЧАТЬ