Stepsister(76)

“Wake up, girls! I need to speak to you!”

It was Madame LeBenêt. Isabelle reached for her dress, pulled it over her head, and hurried to the edge of the hayloft, fumbling with the buttons.

Madame was standing by the ladder, hands on her hips. “Come to the house,” she said brusquely. “Bring your mother.”

Isabelle remained where she was, staring over the ledge, blinking stupidly.

“What are you waiting for? Get the hay out of your hair and get a move on!” Madame barked.

She turned on her heel and strode out of the barn, and Isabelle felt as if she was walking right over her heart. Panic rose inside her. She wondered what they had done. Was it the horses she’d saved? The bowl Tavi had broken? Madame is going to turn us out, she thought. We’ve angered her once too often.

“Tavi, Maman, get up. Get dressed. Madame wants us,” Isabelle said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

When they’d finished dressing, the three women made their way down the ladder and across the yard to the house. Isabelle smoothed her hair when they reached the door, then knocked.

“Come in!” Madame yelled.

With her heart in her mouth, Isabelle stepped inside. Tavi and Maman followed her.

Tantine was at the table, setting out cups. Madame was pulling a large copper frying pan off a trivet in the hearth. She carried the pan to the table, then gave it a knock with the heel of her hand. A fluffy yellow omelet flipped out onto a serving plate.

“Ten eggs in that!” she grumbled. “That’s ten I can’t sell.”

“Now, now, Avara,” Fate chided.

There was a pot of hot black coffee on the table with a jug of rich cream to pour in it, sliced bread, a dish of fresh butter and another of strawberry jam. Isabelle, who—along with Tavi and Maman—had been subsisting on stale bread and thin soup, felt her stomach twist painfully. She desperately hoped that Madame would give them something to eat before she sent them packing. Gazing at so much delicious food was torture to the hungry girl; she turned away and distracted herself by looking around the room.

Isabelle had only been inside Madame LeBenêt’s house a handful of times and had never lingered. Now she had time to take it in. The room where they were standing—both kitchen and dining room—was small and low-ceilinged. There were no pictures on the gray stone walls, no flowers in a vase, no rugs on the floor, nothing warm or welcoming anywhere. She felt a rush of sympathy for Hugo, living in a cold, loveless house, with a mother who rarely, if ever, spoke a kind word.

“Sit down, girls,” Madame said impatiently, waving them towards the table with the wooden spoon she was holding.

Isabelle and Tavi exchanged confused glances.

“Sit down? There at the table?” Isabelle asked.

“You mean us?” Tavi said.

“I said you, didn’t I?” Madame replied.

“No, you said girls,” Tavi pointed out.

Madame gripped her wooden spoon as if she wanted to throttle it. Tantine, who’d finished setting the cups out, ushered the three women to the table.

Isabelle had no idea what was happening. Was Madame going to let them stay? Or was she giving them a good breakfast before she threw them out to ease her conscience? She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

As everyone settled around the table, Madame counted the pieces of bread that had been sliced from the large wheaten round. “That’s two pieces per person. Two!” she said, glowering. “Tantine, you will ruin us.”

“Avara, serve the breakfast, please,” Tantine said, her teeth gritted.

Madame, lips pursed, dished out the omelet.

“I should explain why we invited you here,” Tantine said as she passed the bread. “This breakfast is a bit of a celebration. As you know, my late husband left a small legacy to Monsieur LeBenêt. Since monsieur passed away, it was left to my discretion whether to bestow it upon a member of his family. I’m pleased to say that I’ve come to a decision—the money will go to the next LeBenêt male—Hugo.”

Hugo was speechless. He sat there like a trout, mouth open, unblinking, until his mother kicked him under the table. “Thank you, Tantine!” he finally said. He puffed his chest out and leaned so far back in his chair, he almost fell out of it. At a dirty look from his mother, he sat forward again, bringing the front legs of the chair down with a crash.

“This is great!” he crowed, slapping his hands down on the table. “This means I can …”

Isabelle had never seen him so animated. Neither had his mother, apparently, for her look changed from one of disapproval to one of suspicion.

“You can do what?” she asked.

Hugo hunkered down in his chair, a furtive look on his face.

Marry Odette, Isabelle thought. But he’s too scared to say so.

“I … um … I can …” he stammered. Then he brightened. “I can have some money!”

“Use it to buy a brain!” Tavi said under her breath.

Tantine continued. “The legacy is enough to secure the future of this farm and continue the LeBenêt line, which is what my dear husband wished. But …” She held up a finger. “Fortune is only good fortune if it is shared, and I mean to see that you are all well taken care of. Not just my family, but also you, Isabelle, and your family. You are three women alone in the world. You cannot go on living in a hayloft. What kind of life is that for you? What will happen to you come winter? And so I have taken steps. I have made arrangements.”