AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Julia took a sip of her tea and nodded. “I’d hoped to send a telegram, but apparently that is not possible. Perhaps I could send word by mail. If I post a letter today, when will it arrive in Paris?”
Gabi made the tutting sound again. “The mail isn’t due today. And you never know. It may not come tomorrow either, if Jacques Dubois is distracted in Madeline Auclair’s Taverne.” She leaned close and waggled her brows again. “Or by Mademoiselle Auclair herself.”
At this rate, the heat in Julia’s cheeks would never have a chance to dissipate. And the frustration of being unable to contact her family remained. “Does nothing in Provence run on a schedule?” she asked.
“A visit to the privy precisely one hour after my morning coffee,” Gabi said, laughing. “Thatyou can set your clock by.” She glanced toward the window. “The mistral winds are regular as well, blowing like the devil himself wanted to freeze Provence in the spring.” Her eyes twinkled. “And then, nine months later, you can always count on a busy schedule for the midwife.”
Shocked at the lady’s indelicacy, Julia drew in a quick breath, touching her fingers to her lips.
“Gabi,” Monsieur Paquet interjected. He looked as if he were holding back a smile. “I do not think Mademoiselle Weston expected an answer to her question.”
Gabi winked at Julia, then laughed. “Those are the questions I prefer to answer most of all.”
Chapter Five
Julia sat back in thechair, savoring the warmth of her tea. Gabi was definitely an original; she was a person apparently unconcerned with topics appropriate for a first meeting. But somehow her candor set Julia at ease and made her feel welcome in the most unwelcoming of circumstances.
Luc finished his tea and lifted the tabby cat as he stood, then set the animal back to curl up on his chair before he left to care for the horse.
Gabi stood, taking the empty tea mug from Julia and setting it on the mantel with her own next to a cracked vase, a framed photograph of a baby, and an apparently forgotten piece of bread. “Come along, Juliette. You will be wanting to change into dry clothes and take a warm bath, oui?”
“Merci.” Julia stood as well. She handed the wet towels to her hostess, who hung them over the kitchen chairs, and stepping carefully over the black-and-white cat, she followed Gabi up the stairs. As she passed the painting in the front corridor, she paused, but since Gabi had already started up the stairs, Julia made a note to ask again about the artist once she was settled. Her father would be very pleased that she’d discovered an unknown talent. Maybe the unintended detour to Provence would not be a complete waste.
Gabi paused on the landing at the top of the stairs. “I typically put guests in the Sunflower Room. It has the best view of the mountains.” She tapped a door but did not open it. “But Luc is in that room now, so you will have to make do with the other.” She turned and opened the door directly across the corridor. “Voilá. The Lavender Room.”
Julia followed her inside and smiled. Gabi certainly knew how to adhere to a theme. The walls were painted a lovely pale lavender shade. A bed with a wrought-iron frame and light-purple bedding stood on one side of the room, a washstand and a wardrobe painted in the same color on the other. A portrait of a lavender field in full bloom hung over the washstand. Julia studied it for a moment. It was beautiful, but she could tell immediately the artist was not the same as the one who’d painted the scene in the front hall.
Gabi pulled the sheer curtains to the side and pushed up the window sash. The sweet, subtle scent of almond blossoms filled the room.
Julia stepped to the window to admire the tree, thinking she had rarely had such a lovely view during her travels. “It’s perfect,” she said.
Gabi smiled. “This was my daughter’s room.” She picked up a book from the floor and a shawl that hung over the back of the desk chair. “Her favorite color was...” She spread her arms, indicating the room around them.
“Lavender,” Julia finished, unsure of what to say. Had Gabi lost her daughter? “How old was she?” She asked the question softly, her voice filled with the compassion she considered appropriate.
“Oh dear. I made it sound like Suzette died, didn’t I?” Gabi said, laughing. “She is alive and well and living in Lyon with her husband. Both of my children have moved away. They all do.” She glanced toward the window. “But not Luc. He is determined to carry on the family legacy.”
“The olive orchard?” Julia asked.
“Oui.” Gabi nodded, looking more somber than she had since Julia arrived. “He feels a responsibility to his late father—my brother.” She sighed and gave an affectionate smile. “Loyalty and stubbornness with a dash of sentimentality. That is the character ofle garçon.”
“Gabi, this is so very kind of you, and I fully intend to reimburse you for your hospitality.” A breeze blew through the window, reminding Julia that she was still wearing wet clothing. She shivered.
“That is not necessary at all, ma chérie.” Gabi opened the purple wardrobe, revealing a mirror on the inside of the door and hangers full of clothing. She tossed the book and shawl inside. “And it is not the Provençal way. I will not accept money for taking in a guest. It is a privilege.”
“Then, I will find a way to repay you. I can do chores to earn my keep.”
“I will not turn away help. Heaven knows I could use it.” Gabi looked Julia up and down for a moment, then pulled out a few articles of clothing. “Here. These should fit nicely. And I’m sure there are boots or shoes in your size downstairs by the front door.” She laid the clothes on the bed. “But I’m afraid my underclothing would not fit you. Not without some padding.” She chuckled at her joke.
“I can manage with my own... unmentionables,” Julia stuttered, embarrassment making her words tumble over one another.
“The washroom is there, next to your room.” Gabi pointed at the wall. “And across from it is my own bedchamber. I call it the Peony Room.” She closed the wardrobe and moved to the doorway. “Lunch will be ready when you are. Please, make yourself at home.”
“Merci.”
***
Julia examined her reflection in the purple wardrobe mirror. She wore a full, heavy skirt in a rust color with a collarless white-linen blouse. A blue garment that appeared to be a cross between a gentleman’s waistcoat and a corset was pulled tight over the blouse, and an apron tied around her waist completed the ensemble. She put on her wristwatch and hung the other timepiece around her neck.
