The Life She Wanted: A Novel(76)
“I’ll stop by the shipping office this afternoon. We could book a passage for August or September. We’ll be home to see the leaves change color,” Pandora suggested.
That would give her time to complete her sketches. When they arrived home, she’d start looking for spaces for her boutique. Everyone would have forgotten the scandal. It was time to move forward.
Sally was about to answer when a couple approached their table.
“Pandora!” the woman exclaimed, taking off her hat. “Mabel mentioned you were in Beaulieu-sur-Mer. How nice to run into you.”
It was Lillian and Owen. Lillian’s light brown hair was cut short to her chin, and Pandora could see that her stomach was rounded underneath her chiffon dress.
“Do you mind if we join you?” Lillian asked. “I forgot how hot it gets on the Riviera.” She patted her stomach. “Especially in my condition. I’m six months along.”
“Of course.” Pandora motioned to the chairs. “This is my nanny, Sally.”
Lillian nodded dismissively at Sally. “I had my hair cut in Paris,” she chirped. “Owen thinks I look incredibly French.”
“I haven’t been to Paris,” Pandora commented. “We’ve only seen the Riviera.”
“It is pretty here,” Lillian agreed, turning her gaze to the harbor. “We almost didn’t come to Europe this summer. Owen’s been working so hard, I insisted.” She looked at Pandora archly. “I can’t imagine traveling by myself with only the nanny and the children. It would be half as much fun; one may as well stay at home.”
Owen adjusted his panama hat. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Pandora didn’t know how to answer. She wasn’t going to give Lillian the satisfaction of bringing up Harley.
“I’m so sorry about Harley,” Lillian said as if she could read Pandora’s mind. “When Owen and I heard the news, neither of us could believe it. We sent a huge flower arrangement to Blythdale. You must be devastated. You were clever to get away. It was still in the newspapers when we left.”
Pandora gripped the edge of the table. She picked up a knife and cut a slice of Camembert. She didn’t want to talk about the scandal or about how she still missed Harley. It was better to change the subject. She remembered how much Lillian admired Suzanne.
“Harley and I had planned on coming to the French Riviera anyway,” Pandora replied. “I didn’t want to disappoint Suzanne.”
“I heard that Suzanne is favored to win Wimbledon next month.” Lillian ran her fingers over her water glass. “Owen and I would love to meet her. We’re staying at Grand-Hôtel du Cap-Ferrat. You and Suzanne should come for dinner tonight.”
Pandora would love to dine at the hotel, which was supposed to be beautiful, but she couldn’t give Lillian the pleasure of being able to say she had dinner with la Divine.
“Suzanne doesn’t dine at restaurants, too many people clamor for her autograph,” she answered. “And I have plans tonight. Perhaps another time.”
Lillian and Owen ordered crepes and glasses of Beaujolais. Pandora tried to draw Owen and Sally into the conversation. But Owen just sipped his wine and let Lillian talk.
“Owen and I finally bought an estate,” Lillian said when the waiter set down the check. “It’s called Periwinkle. I hired Elsie de Wolfe to furnish it.” She glanced at Pandora innocently. “You’ll have to come for afternoon tea when you’re back in Hyde Park. It’s quite near Summerhill.”
“I’d love to, but I don’t know when we’re going home,” she said. “I’m happy here, and Suzanne loves having us. It will be hard to leave.”
Seeing Lillian was disconcerting. Pandora wasn’t ready to go home. What if people were still talking about Harley? How could she possibly have afternoon tea at Lillian’s new house, knowing that she was only invited so the women could gossip about her after she left.
When they took leave of Lillian and Owen, Pandora let Sally take Esme back to the villa while she ran some errands. It was almost dinnertime when Pandora arrived back at Suzanne’s villa. She set her hat on the table and walked upstairs to Sally’s room. Esme cooed happily in her crib, turning the pages of a picture book.
“We just finished Esme’s bath,” Sally said, folding the bath towel over a chair. “We stopped at the beach on the way home. You wouldn’t guess that a little while ago Esme’s hair was full of sand, and she was shouting at a little boy for ruining her sandcastle.”
“It sounds like he deserved it.” Pandora laughed, sitting on the bed. “I’ve been to see Jean Patou. He offered to let me work at his atelier in Paris. I wouldn’t be paid much, but I’ll learn everything about running a fashion house.”
Meeting with Jean Patou and showing him her sportswear designs had helped Pandora decide that she didn’t want to open a boutique in either Hyde Park or New York. Harley’s scandal would trail after her like a dog on its leash. Instead, she wanted to start a company that designed and manufactured sportswear. If she was successful, her collection would be sold in many stores. No one had attempted to create sportswear for spectators before, and she could offer women something brand new.
The realization of her new goal surprised her; she had wanted to create dresses since she was fifteen. For a while, she had put Jean Patou’s offer to teach her about running a fashion house out of her mind. But the more she thought about designing sportswear, the more it all felt right. The great designers didn’t limit themselves. Coco Chanel designed costumes for the Ballets Russes, and she had a line of perfumes. Jean Patou had a successful bathing suit line, and Elsa Schiaparelli had recently launched a collection of knitwear.