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"Madame," I say quietly.
"Hmm?" she replies.
"I'm sorry to disturb you."
"No, no," her voice is gentle. "You're not disturbing me.” She seems lost a world away when she says as quiet as a mouse, “It is a pleasure to hear English spoken again."
"And you speak it wonderfully," I add with a tentative smile on my face. I don’t know what changed while I was in the closet, but I'm too afraid of breaking the tenderness that has arisen in the air. "How is it, Madame, that you speak English so well?"
She chuckles and folds her hands on top of the covers, still not looking me in the eye. "That is a story. A long story."
Have I done it? Have I found a way into her? She turns to me, cocks her head, and furrows her brow.
"Where are my nightclothes? You were supposed to bring me my gown. Do you expect me to sleep fully clothed?"
Okay. Maybe not yet.
CHAPTER 17
Olivier
I have to be careful not to grin too much as Natalie flutters about the grounds while I sip my morning coffee and inhale the countryside air.
Do I feel bad about having thrown her into the fire pit that is Grandmama? Only a touch. Since the first moment I had the idea, I couldn’t help but think the two of them would be good for each other. Strong characters, big ideas, fearless. And Grandmama always had an inexplicable soft spot for an American accent.
“Olivier.” Sebastian marches over. “Enjoying your coffee?”
I know that tone in his voice. I know it well. It goes back to when he was twenty-two and I was twenty-five, and Father asked me to take over management of the restaurant. It had always been Sebastian’s dream to take over, but never mine. Back then, Sebastien was wild and untethered, not deemed fit enough to manage the Bouchon Noir. He has matured with time. Though, Father can’t see it and Sebastien doesn’t help, turning into an irritable adolescent whenever Father is around.
“As a matter of fact, I am enjoying my coffee. Thank you.”
“Excellent. While you’re relaxing, you should know that this morning I uncovered two new vines with leafroll virus.”
“I told you how to manage that. You had to tear out all the existing plants that had it and treat the—”
“I did.”
“Obviously, you didn’t, or we wouldn’t be having this problem now. You have to grab it at the root and then dig under it to be sure. I’ll show you again later.”
“How about you just do it yourself?”
“Don’t take that tone of voice with me.”
“What tone of voice, Olivier? You love managing those vines, and yet you’re never around when the work needs to be done.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “And why is that? Is it not because I’m trying to keep everything in Paris from falling into the gutter?”
Someone clears their throat. “Excuse me?”
We turn our heads to face the delicate, feminine voice.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Natalie clasps her hands in front of her and cocks her head to the side, her brown curls bouncing around her face. “If it’s any consolation, I couldn't understand anything the two of you were just talking about. Do you always talk this fast? Anyhow—” She rolls back on her heels, perhaps sensing from the look on our faces that this isn’t a good time, “—it’s about Madame. She’s looking for a particular book, something called Aix.”
“It’s in the library, of course.” I didn’t mean to be snappy, but my brother knows how to get under my skin, like he doesn’t appreciate a single thing that I’ve done for this family. But that’s not Natalie’s fault.
“There’s a library?” She wrings her hands.
“Yes,” I point, “in the far corner.”
