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“You killed Fleur!” Alice pointed at Gabi with both hands. “She is so ill she can hardly walk. She will most likely not survive the night, and if she does, her milk will never be sweet again.” She turned and fell, weeping, against her husband’s shoulder.
Gabi and Julia gasped.
Mathieu dropped his cane, nearly hitting the dog. He held one hand against the doorframe for support and patted his wife’s back with the other.
Gabi’s expression was replaced by confusion. She glanced at Luc, who shrugged, confused as well. “What do you mean?” Her voice was concerned. “What happened to Fleur?”
“We found her tied to the sycamore by the south gate,” Mathieu said, looking at them over his wife’s scarf. His tone and expression were grave. “She’d been eating the—”
“Bracken fern,” Gabi finished. She let out a heavy sigh and put a hand over her heart. “Oh, the poor thing.”
Luc stepped closer, standing behind Gabi.
Julia’s heart plummeted. Her head was light as the significance of what she was hearing became clear. She held tighter to the stair railing, feeling lightheaded.No, it cannot be.
“I know she eats your herbs.” Alice turned away from her husband and back to glaring at Gabi, her face blotchy and wet. “She can’t help it. It’s in her nature. But to do such a thing to an innocent creature.”
Gabi’s face had gone pale. “I would never hurt an animal,” she said.
“You want your chèvre to win at the fair,” Alice said.
“No,” Gabi said. “Not like this. I have no idea how Fleur came to be tied to the sycamore, but—”
“It was me,” Julia said in a small voice, her heart beating so hard she could feel it in her limbs.
The four people and one dog turned to stare at her.
“You?” Mathieu asked.
Julia swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. “I found her in the garden and...” She looked down at her hands, finding it impossible to look at any of the faces staring at her, their expressions surely exhibiting the entire spectrum of anger, confusion, and—she was certain—disappointment. “I moved her away from the herbs but close to the gate so you would see her right away when you came looking. I tied the knot high in the tree so she wouldn’t bite it.” She glanced up. “I didn’t know about the bracken fern.”
“You.” Alice pointed a shaky finger.
“I am so sorry, Madame Laurent.” Julia’s voice cracked. “I didn’t realize the danger. I know nothing about caring for goats, and—”
“I should have known.” Alice shook her head. “This is what happens when you let a stranger into your home, Gabrielle. You can’t trust outsiders.”
Alice turned fully toward Julia and leaned forward, glaring.
Julia cringed away. Her chest and ears burned.
“I imagine you thought it nothing at all to kill a simple goat.” Alice’s voice was pure vitriol. “You and your fancy city ways. What kind of person comes into a self-respecting town and murders an animal for fun? I’ll tell you, an evil—”
“That’s enough, Alice,” Luc interrupted. He crossed the entryway and stood beside Julia. “Miss Weston made a mistake. It was a terrible accident, nothing more.”
“An accident?” Alice pulled her lips together, and her body tightened, looking as if pressure were building and it was only a matter of time before she exploded.
Mathieu still had a hand on his wife’s shoulder, but now he seemed to be restraining her rather than comforting her. “If mademoiselle says it was an accident... ,” Mathieu said in a placating tone.
Luc leaned closer to Julia, and she wished for an irrational moment that he would put a hand on her shoulder, or that she could hold on to his arm—or hide behind him.
Gabi cleared her throat. “Come along to the kitchen. We will all feel better with some coffee and a nice piece of yogurt cake.”
Alice was still staring at Julia. The anger in her eyes made Julia’s breath come fast. “How will cake fix anything?” she spat. She pulled away from her husband’s grasp with a jerk of her shoulder and folded her arms, frowning. She looked at Gabi. “You owe me a goat.”
Gabi sucked in a breath.
“Coquette.” Alice drew out the word, pronouncing each sound with emphasis.
