searing drought or the rain delayed the pickers so the crop spoiled with mold. In the last harvest, dark speckles marred the grape skins, tainting the wine with the taste of burnt cork. And there was nothing Grand-Mère could do, because her mind and magic had begun to fail.
It was little things at first. Forgetting to add a bit of bone to the soil on the full moon, neglecting to hang the bell-charms inside the vine canopy to warn of searing wind, or whispering the wrong words of protection when the cool air dipped toward freezing, leaving the grapes to fend for themselves. Grand-Mère waved it all away as she spoke, as if thoughts of growing old pained her. It bruised her ego to admit her vulnerability, but she knew the vineyard had suffered because of her failing powers. It wasn’t long before successive poor vintages caused sales to drop, and people began to whisper that Château Renard had lost its way.
Failure to protect the vineyard alone was a disgrace to a vine witch as renowned as Madame Gardin. But the worst thing she’d done to bring ruin to Château Renard was neglecting to pay her taxes. Nature could bend and accommodate a flaw, but the government would have its due. Château Renard, one of the original houses to produce wine in the valley, had found itself three years behind in taxes with no money in the coffer to pay it.
“They threatened to seize the property,” Grand-Mère said with a sigh. “Suggested I sell and save what I could of the Renard reputation.”
The news was as bitter as the wine. And none of it made any sense. The vineyard had been passed down from one generation to the next for more than two hundred years. Its reputation was built on a history of excellence, a blessed rich terroir, and the steady fostering of dedicated vine witches. “It must be some kind of mistake. A misunderstanding,” Elena said, unwilling to believe. “Grand-Père set plenty of money aside to weather a bad year or two.”
“I don’t like admitting how badly I mismanaged things without your help. I thought I still had the touch, but it seems my brain is as withered as a dried-up old apple.”
“Surely you must have been sent notices about the taxes?”
“Well, yes. And I know I paid some money. But it was never enough, according to the statements. The whole thing had the smell of rot to it,” she said, shaking her head. “Especially when Bastien came around to present an offer on the property.”
“He showed his face here? After what he did?” Elena nearly drew blood as her clenched fingers dug into her palms. “He tried to buy Château Renard?”
“He’s been buying failed vineyards all over the valley the past couple of years. It wasn’t long before he showed up here with cash in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. His wine.” Grand-Mère snorted. “It was a very short meeting.”
Elena could do nothing but shake her head. Everything that man did led to greed and betrayal. And now he’d tried to buy the very place where her heart, blood, and soul were sewn to the soil. If there was one piece of hope she could hold on to, it was that he’d failed to steal Château Renard.
Elena slid her arm around Grand-Mère’s shoulders to comfort her. “It’s not too late. Now that I’m home again we can fix this. We’ll raise the money somehow.”
“No, you don’t understand. I sold Château Renard.”
“Sold? But that’s not possible. To whom?”
“To me,” said Jean-Paul as he stood in the doorway holding a bottle of wine and two extra glasses.
CHAPTER THREE
Elena stood outside among the vines, snow falling gently on her shoulders. An unnatural chill had settled in her skin after the curse, and the last place she wanted to be was caught out in the cold, but there was nowhere else to go. That man had bought the only home she knew. He’d even claimed her old bedroom overlooking the eastern fields for his own. Lamplight glowed in the upstairs window, mocking her while she shivered in her stolen, stinking clothes with nowhere to go, no place to call home.
Oh, he was a sly one, letting Grand-Mère stay on at the house after he’d paid her debts. Clever him, arranging it so he owned everything yet still benefitted from the prestige of her family name and perceived blessing. Mortal men. What flaw was it in their ape