Ella hurried down to breakfast the next morning, eager to speak with Minette. To her relief, Minette was already in the cheerful yellow parlor, sipping hot chocolate and nibbling on a brioche. Ella crossed to the sideboard and chose her food hastily. She set the plate on the table and took her seat, impatient to ask the question that had consumed her all night . . . and was unable to find the right words. How did one broach such a subject?
She spread her napkin on her lap.
She poured herself a cup of tea.
She picked up her fork and put it down again.
“Minette . . . ?”
“Oui, ma chère?”
Oui,ma chère?Ella met that alert, questioning gaze and looked down at her plate. She rotated it until the egg was at twelve o’clock, then glanced back at Minette, petite and elegant, head tilted at an i
