"Where is Charlotte?" Étienne follows my gaze, searching for his sister. I catch sight of her in the jungle of our garden, not far off. She has squatted to peer at some plants in bloom.
"Charlotte," I come over to her. "What are you looking at?"
"These flowers here are gorgeous. I was thinking about how to incorporate them into the embroidery I am doing. Do you have anything I could sketch with?" I giggle at her enthusiasm. She is easily distracted, but at the same time dedicated to her passions and fashion.
"Of course, let me go get them." I rush into the house looking for the materials I need. I return to her several minutes later with the needed provisions.
"Here, I need to go help prepare for dinner, but you can stay here to sketch." I pass over the things she needed and head to the kitchen. She doesn't look up, captivated by her thoughts and imagination. I chuckle at her singlemindedness. I scan for Étienne, but he has disappeared.
I go to help our cook but am quickly shooed out. I manage to filch an apron before departing. I tie it around my waist and find Jeanne-Marie scrubbing the tables in preparation.
"Let me help." I take a spare rag from next to her.
"No, you are nobility now." Jeanne-Marie seems to have calmed down from this afternoon. She waves her hands to shoo me away, imitation the chef.
"I haven't changed, Jeanne-Marie. I am happy to help." She scrunches her eyebrows and points a scolding finger at me.
"A Baroness shouldn't lower herself to wipe tables."
"My marriage to the baron isn't legally recognized. I am not nobility, only me." Her eyes narrow into suspicious slits. I ignore her and prepare for the evening. Already several of the guests are seated.
"What did father want to talk to you about?" I try to make peace, as her usual joyous voice is silent with exasperation.
"He explained that he is selling the inn and offered to have me come to Montclar with you." I look up at her, gaging her body language. She determinedly focuses on her work, but after having known her for years I know she is considering the offer. Her silent compilation is the proof.
"I would love to have you come." I state. "But it is your choice. I am sure the new owner could use your experience, if you choose to stay."
"What would I do if I followed? Your father isn't planning on buying an inn or tavern in Montclar." She stares at her scrubbing hands, as if they might provide the answers to her dilemma.
"No, but I know he wants to buy a fancy home, and we could always use help maintaining it."
"I don't think I could leave my home." The table is long clean, but it still refuses to divulge the answer she is torturing it for.
"This needs to be your decision; just know you have options." I leave her to think, and work, as I move to the kitchen to get food for our already seated guests.
I find Étienne and Charlotte have joined the crowd. They are in the same seclude corner where Étienne had been the first night we met. His back is facing the wall, while Charlotte is facing him. Several men look over at the back of the young beauty with Étienne, but he protectively glares at anyone he catches. I smirk at his behavior. He is a doting brother. I wonder if he will be the same with his wife. I shake the thought from my head and approach them.
"Camille, what are you doing?" Charlotte inquires when I set some dishes in front of them. Her big brown eyes study me, like she had done the flower earlier.
"We are leaving in two days. I am just enjoying working here before I have to leave." I explain with a large smile.
"Don't work too hard." She cautions with a pout. "When you have a minute come join us."
"Soon, I need to serve everyone first." She nods her acceptance of my excuse. I wonder off to the comfort of an old routine. I move from table to table as the room fills with locals.
I keep everyone happy by flitting around with a pitcher of ale. There is boisterous laughter, and talking, which fills the room. I scan for my friends, ensuring that they are pleased with the ambiance. My face sours when I notice two familiar figures heckling Étienne again. One would think that my tongue lashing a week ago, or the fact that Charlotte is next to him, would deter these women. Yet there they are. I can tell even from this distance that the innocent Charlotte is unsuccessfully trying to guard her brother as he has done for her.