Stepsister(47)

She stood, cupping her elbows, mutely watching wisps of smoke spiral up into the air for over an hour. Until she heard the sound of hooves and the creak of wagon wheels, and stepped out from under the tree to see who it was.

“Isabelle, is that you?” a voice called. “My goodness, child! What happened here?”

Isabelle saw an old horse and an even older farm wagon, piled high with cabbages, creaking towards her. Holding the reins was Avara LeBenêt. Seated next to her, her face creased with concern, her dark eyes as bright and busy as a vulture’s, was Tantine.





Fifty-One


“It was a fire,” Isabelle said dully. “It took everything.”

Tantine pressed a wrinkled hand to her chest. “That’s terrible. Just terrible, child!”

“What goes around comes around,” sniffed Madame LeBenêt.

“How did it start?” Tantine asked.

“I don’t know,” Isabelle said, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I woke up, and the downstairs was in flames.”

“It must’ve been a spark from the fireplace. Or an ember that rolled out of the grate,” Tantine said. “Where is your mother? Your sister?”

“They’re under there, asleep,” Isabelle replied, pointing to the linden tree.

“This is dreadful. You’re soaking wet. Cold, too, from the looks of you. Have you nowhere to go?”

Isabelle shook her head but then had a thought. “Perhaps the marquis could help us. His chateau is so big. All we would need is a room in the attic. We could—”

Tantine paled. She shot to her feet, startling Madame LeBenêt and Isabelle. “Absolutely not!” she declared. “I won’t hear of it. The marquis is a man of loose morals, my dear. He lives with several woman, not one of whom is his wife. I will not stand by and see two young women corrupted by that scoundrel!”

“But he seems so very—” Nice, Isabelle was going to say.

But Tantine held up a hand, silencing her. She turned to Madame LeBenêt. “They must stay with us, Avara. We are their closest neighbors.”

Avara LeBenêt nearly choked. “Three more mouths to feed, Tantine? With a war going on and food so scarce?”

Isabelle thought of the rows of cabbages in the LeBenêts’ fields. The plump chickens in their coop. The branches of their plum trees bent to the ground with heavy fruit. She did not relish the idea of accepting charity from this harsh, stingy woman, but she knew she had no choice. Please, Tantine, she begged silently. Please convince her.

“It’s a burden, yes,” Tantine allowed. “But you are an unselfish woman, Avara. A woman who always puts others first.”

Madame LeBenêt nodded vigorously, as one does when accepting praise, or anything else, that does not belong to one. “You’re right. I am far too kind. It’s my undoing.”

“Look at what you will gain from the arrangement: three desperately needed farmhands,” Tantine said. “All yours have joined the army. Only Hugo remains because of his poor eyesight. Your cabbages will rot in the fields if you can’t get them to market.”

Avara looked Isabelle up and down. Squinted. Worked a piece of food from her teeth with her thumbnail. “All right,” she finally said. “You and your family may come to the farm and I will feed you, if”—she held up a finger—“if you promise to work hard.”

Isabelle nearly wept with relief. They could dry themselves off. Warm themselves by the farmhouse’s hearth. Maybe there would even be a bowl of hot soup for them.

“We will work very hard, Madame. I promise,” she said. “Me, Tavi, Maman, Martin … all of us.”

Madame LeBenêt shook her head. “No, absolutely not. The offer does not include your horse.”

Isabelle looked from Madame LeBenêt to Tantine pleadingly. “But I can’t leave him here,” she said. “He’s old. He needs his oats. And a dry stall to sleep in.”

“You see, Tantine? I’m being taken advantage of already,” Madame LeBenêt said, flipping a hand at Isabelle.

“I doubt the animal will eat much,” Tantine assured her. “And you can use him, too.”

Madame relented. “I suppose that’s true,” she said. She gestured at her own cart horse. “Louis here is on his last legs.”

Because you worked him to death, Isabelle thought, looking at the poor bony creature. And you’ll do the same to us. The realization sat heavily on her.

“It’s settled, then,” Tantine declared with a satisfied smile.

“Get yourselves to the farm,” Madame LeBenêt said. “Find Hugo. He’s cutting cabbages. He’ll show you what to do.” She snapped her reins against Louis’s haunches. “Tantine and I must take this load to market.”

“Thank you, Madame,” Isabelle said as the wagon rolled off. “Thank you for making room in your house for us.”

Madame LeBenêt snorted. “House?” she called over her shoulder. “Who said anything about the house? You three will sleep in the hayloft and be glad of it!”





Fifty-Two


Fate stared at the stingy portion of weak coffee in a cracked mug on the table in front of her. And the hard heel of bread to dip into it. There was a small pitcher of cream next to the mug. No sugar. No biscuits. No warm, pillowy brioche.