Rosalyn ran her fingers along the wall, which coated her fingertips in a damp white film. In some areas water dripped through the walls and ceilings, wetting the floors and creating stalactites overhead.The caves were reinforced with brick and concrete here and there, but primarily they were pure chalk and limestone.
The sounds of music and conversation drifted down thecrayèresfrom the party venue, but Rosalyn took her time, drinking it all in.
She wished she were alone down here, free to explore... with an excellent flashlight.
Chapter Thirty-four
The Gathering of Vintners was held in one of the larger pits, which had ceilings at least forty feet high. In the cave’s ceiling was a small pyramid made of glass, which served as a skylight. It was dark outside now, but Rosalyn imagined how vital it must have been for those living down here to know when the day had dawned, even if only through a tiny window forty feet overhead.
“Rosalyn, I thought you would never make it!” Gaspard called out after spotting her near the entrance. “Don’t tell me Emma finally ceded to good sense and stayed home?”
“Does ‘ceding to good sense’ sound like Emma?” Rosalyn asked with a smile. “No, she sent me on ahead while she arranges a way to join us. Knowing Emma, it won’t be long.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “That Emma. She never gives up. But you know what they say:Tant qu’il y a de la vie, il y a de l’espoir.”
While there’s life, there’s hope. It seemed a little melodramatic, but considering they were standing in caves in which people had found refuge from wartime violence, it felt appropriate.
Gaspard pressed a flute of champagne into her palm, held her elbow lightly as he introduced her to some local vintners, and then gestured to a massive bas-relief frieze carved into the chalk on one side of the cave: a bacchanalian scene of nymphs frolicking with grapes and wine. “In the nineteenth century, Madame Pommery wanted to beautify the chalk pits, to make them more than mere storage space. She commissioned many beautiful tableaux such as this one. And that tradition is continued today, with exhibits of modern artists throughout the cave galleries.”
“I saw several on my way in,” said Rosalyn. “I liked the elephant standing on its nose. And the upside-down bouncy castle was... interesting.”
Gaspard threw his head back and laughed. “Modern art, my dear. Not to everyone’s taste—I prefer the classic bas-reliefs, myself. But art seeks its own truth, does it not?”
“That’s what they say.”
“You know, Rosalyn, Blondine mentioned you’re quite the artist yourself.”
“Oh, I’m really not.” She felt herself blushing. “I just sketch and paint a little.”
“I am sure you are too modest. Perhaps you will show them to me sometime. I would love to see the world through your eyes.”
“Mmm,”she said noncommittally, taking a deep gulp of champagne. As ever, she would have preferred a nice glass of red, but the bubbly that was so adored around the world would have to do. “Is Blondine here yet?”
“She’s on her way. She had to visit a few clients.”
They mingled with the crowd, and Gaspard introduced her to still more new faces. In the world of champagne, there were two main groups: the growers and the producers. Sometimes those were one and the same, but most growers sold their grapes to the bighouses, who then made the wine. Rosalyn exchanged business cards and did her best to remember names, but meet and greets had never been her strong suit, not even before Dash died. Her smile muscles started to ache.
“And this is the famous—or should I say infamous?—Monsieur Jérôme Comtois,” said Gaspard. “Jérôme, this is Madame Rosalyn Acosta.”
Accustomed to seeing the farmer in his work clothes, Rosalyn was surprised to see Jérôme Comtois in a well-cut suit and a tie, his wild hair more or less neatly combed. She wondered whether she would have recognized him immediately if they hadn’t been introduced.
“Nous nous sommes rencontrés,”Jérôme said, then repeated in English: “We’ve met.”
“Ah oui?”Gaspard raised his eyebrows.
“A few times, as a matter of fact,” said Jérôme.
Rosalyn smiled. “Monsieur Comtois was my knight in shining armor when I ran out of gas over the holidays. I have an American card.”
“Ah yes, I’ve heard about the problem with the American card,” Gaspard said. “But I thought you and Emma wanted me to introduce you to Monsieur Comtois?”
“Emma’s the one looking for an introduction. She’ll be here any moment, I’m sure.”
Jérôme gave her a ghost of a smile. “No avoiding it this time, I suppose?”
“Emma’s a force of nature,” Rosalyn said. “There’s really no avoiding her. I suggest you do as we do: Accept it.”
“This is true.” Gaspard nodded. “Now, if you will excuse us for a moment, Jérôme, I must introduce Rosalyn to some others.”
