They all drank to France’s liberation, and dug into their Kings’ cake. It was flaky and light, with a delicate almond paste at the center, more like a pastry than what Americans considered to be cake, Rosalyn thought, and she enjoyed every bite. The table was quiet as they savored the dessert.
“There was an orphanage built by one of your type after the Great War, though—this I know,” Bonnet said suddenly to Emma.
“One of my type? By which you mean what?” Emma asked. “Charming? Intelligent? Endowed with savoir faire?”
“A wealthy Australian woman.”
Emma looked surprised. “Is that right? Around here?”
“Oh yes, of course, not twenty minutes from here. You know, the First World War left more than a million orphans in France. Just imagine.”
“Terrible,” Dominique said, and Dani nodded.
“You’re saying anAustralianwoman founded an orphanage around here?” Emma continued. “What was her name?”
Bonnet shook his head. “This, I do not know. I assumed you did, and that there was a connection of some kind. It was perhaps why you chose to invest in our region.”
“No, that wasn’t why,” Emma said, looking nonplussed. “I just like champagne.”
“Well, Michel,” said Gaspard. “Congratulations: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Emma at a loss for words.”
“Did I say something wrong?” Bonnet asked.
“On the contrary,” said Blondine, “I imagine Emma will want to look into this orphanage. Where is it?”
“The Vieille Ruche, I believe it’s called.”
“The big old house outside of Vurgren? I love that place!” said Blondine. “Very beautiful, very bourgeois.”
Rosalyn knew that in French, “bourgeois” was not an insult, as it often was back home—or, at least, in the part of California where she was raised, where it meant having a shallow attachment to worldly goods and conventionality. In France, the word simply referred to individuals of a certain stature and wealth.
“The Germans occupied Vieille Ruche as a command post during the Second World War,” Bonnet explained. “That’s why I know about it—it was a scandal when the Nazis forced the orphans out. A Madame Bolze lives there now. Her husband’s family made a fortune in glass.”
“Is she of the Bolze bottle makers?” asked Raúl. “They are well-known.”
“She is indeed. As you may imagine, bottles are a big item around here,” Gaspard explained to Rosalyn. “They were especially hard to come by during the war years.”
“Does anyone know this Madame Bolze?” Emma asked. “I’d love to contact her, see if she might know anything about this ‘wealthy Australian woman,’ or have any records dating back to the orphanage.”
“Why would she keep such old stuff?” Blondine asked.
“Many people find history interesting,” Bonnet said, looking amused. “As we grow older, we tend to appreciate the past more. Perhaps you will as well.”
“Hmph,”Blondine replied, clearly unconvinced.
“I will introduce you to her,” said Gaspard.
Emma’s head whipped around. “You will?”
“You see? What did I tell you?” Gaspard said to no one in particular. “Emma always underestimates me. But I am an official with the Archiconfrérie de Saint Vincent now, and I sit on thecomité. Madame Bolze will take my call.”
Emma raised her champagne flute and gave him a warm smile. “A mistake I will be sure not to make again.”
“There is one little problem with your plan,ma chèreEmma,” Gaspard said.
“What’s that?”
“The Vieille Ruche is a four-story manor,” he pointed out. “Unless André is willing to cart you up and down the stairs, this will not be possible.”
