“They usually crawl under the table to distribute the slices,” Emma told Rosalyn. “Tradition is all well and good, but it’s a little disconcerting having children crawling under tables, if you ask me.”
“Are we expecting anyone else tonight?” Rosalyn asked, noting that Blondine laid out a serving in front of an empty chair.
“Ça, c’est la part du Bon Dieu,”said Dominique.
“The piece of a good God?” Rosalyn translated and looked at Emma, who nodded.
Dominique explained: “It is tradition to put out a piece for astranger, or a poor person. This is very important. In case they come by, there is a place waiting for them.”
Rosalyn glanced out the sliding-glass window, imagining there wouldn’t be a lot of people passing by in the storm, asking for cake.
“That’s a lovely tradition.”
“This is a celebration of the wise men, Melchior, Caspar, and Balthazar,” said Gaspard as he poured more champagne into their flutes. “This is why we give gifts, because the wise men brought gifts to the baby Jesus.”
Gaspard stood and raised his glass in a toast.“Pluie des Rois, c’est blé jusqu’au toit et dans les tonneaux, vins à flots!”
Rosalyn caught most of the words, but not the meaning, and was grateful when Emma leaned over and translated: “‘Rain of Kings’—on Kings’ day, Epiphany—means ‘grain up to the roof and wine overflowing from the barrels.’ Gaspard thinks it’s funny because his last name means ‘grain.’”
Thunder shook the building, and Emma let out a gasp. Rosalyn turned to see an old man standing at the glass door, umbrella held aloft, like an apparition.
Chapter Twenty-three
Blé let out a curse under his breath. “Who invitedhim?”
“Idid,” said Blondine, her chin edging up a notch in a defiant slant. The move earned a fond look from Augustín.
Blondine hurried to the door and let the man in, handing him a towel.
“Bonsoir,”he said in a gravelly voice, stashing his umbrella in the stand and thanking Blondine for the towel as he tousled his gray locks. He was a small wrinkled man with sad blue eyes, who appeared shrunken in his too-large clothes.
“Please let me introduce Monsieur Michel Bonnet,” said Blondine. “Monsieur Bonnet, this is Mesdames Rosalyn Acosta from America and Emma Kinsley from Australia, and Messieurs Augustín and Raúl Santiago from Spain. I believe you know the others. Quite an international party,non?”
“Bonsoir, messieurs-dames,”he said, with a nod.
Michel Bonnet, Rosalyn recalled, was the former priest Blondine had told her about the day they walked back from the market, and as she gazed around the room, she felt as if she were in a fairy taleor a joke: “An ex-priest, two Spanish cork makers, and a winemaker walk into an Epiphany party...”
She forced her attention back to the discussion at hand. Gaspard looked disgruntled at having Bonnet at his table, but Dominique and her young man greeted him as a dear friend, and if the Spaniards noticed Gaspard’s attitude, they were too polite to say anything. Monsieur Bonnet took the extra place setting while Emma filled his flute with champagne, Blondine put on a pot of strong coffee, and Dominique served everyone a slice of cake.
“Actually, Michel and I know each other. Don’t we, Michel?” said Emma. “That’s what comes of investing in Champagne. I tell you, I know everyone at this point.”
“Not everyone,” Blondine pointed out.
“Quite right,” Emma said. “I still need to get to Jérôme Comtois.”
“I can get to him,” said Gaspard.
“So you keep saying,” Emma replied. “But I haven’t seen any evidence of it so far.”
“What is it you wish to learn from Jérôme?” asked Dominique.
“I have these letters, correspondence between a great-aunt of mine and a young soldier from World War One named Émile Legrand. I was hoping to find her part of the correspondence in the Comtois collection.”
“Letters from a hundred years ago?” Dani asked.
“It’s a long shot, I know, but I want to try,” replied Emma. “I’m also looking for any families by the name of Legrand or Maréchal; I’ve had a few hints, but so far nothing’s panned out. You wouldn’t have any leads for me, would you, Michel?”
Bonnet smiled, revealing crooked teeth. “I am old, but that was before even my time. World War Two, now, that’s a different story. I was a boy when the Germans invaded, and I remember four yearslater, when the Allies marched through this valley and kicked them out.”
