Céline’s stomach pitched and rolled, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep standing there, acting as if his words didn’t faze her. “Yes.” There was no point in denying it; he clearly already knew. She had heard how meticulous the Germans were with their record keeping.

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” he said. “Not that first day, anyhow, though I see it now. You’re attractive for a Jewess.”

Céline could feel her cheeks heating up, and she didn’t know whether it was fear or embarrassment. She didn’t say anything, and the officer’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve just paid you a compliment,” he said. “The proper response would be to thank me.”

She swallowed. “Thank you.”

“Very good. I don’t believe we were ever properly introduced. You should know me, Madame Laurent, don’t you think? Especially if we are to be friends.”

“Friends?”

The officer laughed, and it was the same calculated, mirthless sound as before. “Oh, I think you’ll find in times like these, it’s helpful to have a friend like me. You should be honored that I’d even consider a friendship with a Jew.” He nearly spat the last word.

Céline couldn’t think of anything to say, so she merely nodded.

“Now, then. My name is Richter. Hauptmann Richter, which would be Capitaine Richter in your inferior language.” He narrowed his eyes again. “Aren’t you going to tell me how nice it is to meet me?”

“It—it’s nice to meet you, Hauptmann Richter.”

“There, there. You’re learning.” He moved closer, near enough now that she could feel the heat of his breath. “Now, Madame Laurent, I know I will never catch you doing anything you shouldn’t be, because I hate to think of you in a labor camp. The conditions are not so nice. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He reached out with his left hand and fingered the lock of her hair that curled over her right shoulder. She stood frozen, his touch repulsive, dangerous. “I have my eye on you, Madame Laurent,” he said, finally raising his gaze to hers. “Céline.” And then, without breaking eye contact, he let his hand drift from her hair to the swell of her right breast, over the thin layer of cotton. As she held her breath and tried not to retch, he traced a lazy ring around her nipple and smiled. “Oh yes, I have my eye on you indeed.”

And then he was gone, withdrawing to his shiny black automobile while Céline stood as frozen as a grapevine in winter, trembling in the cold.

? ? ?

Céline didn’t tell Theo about the encounter with Richter right away, because she knew he would chastise her for being in the cellars alone, and she couldn’t handle the criticism heaped atop everything else. He would tell her that she didn’t belong there, that of course a woman wandering the caves by herself would look suspicious, and that she’d brought the scrutiny on herself. So when he and Michel returned from the harvest in rare good moods, their words spilling over each other’s as they told her about the surprising bounty from the first day of labor, she nodded along, trying to find some comfort in their optimism. If Mother Nature was finally smiling upon them, maybe the tide of the war would change soon, too, sending Richter and his men drifting east like jetsam.

“Things are turning around, Céline, they really are,” Theo said, grinning at his wife. “Don’t you think so, Michel? Bright times ahead, yes?”

“God willing,” Michel replied, glancing skyward. “I think this year should get us back on track.”

Inès returned home in Michel’s Citro?n, which had been fitted to run on gazogen, or ersatz fuel, just after the men did, pulling up in a cloud of dust and smoke and alighting from the car with an expression of unmistakable guilt. “Hello, everyone,” she said without meeting anyone’s eyes. “I’m sorry I’m a little late. How did the harvest go today?”

“Where have you been?” Michel asked, his voice low and cold.

“I left you a note. Didn’t you get it?”

Without replying, Michel took Inès firmly by the arm and led her inside, slamming the door behind them.

“What excuse could she possibly have?” Theo muttered. From inside the main house, they could hear raised voices, Inès’s an aggrieved staccato.

Céline shook her head, but she couldn’t muster a reply.

“You’re quiet today,” Theo said as they turned and began to walk toward their cottage.

He reached for her hand, but she pulled away instantly, an instinctual reaction that she immediately regretted. She still felt dirty from Richter’s touch.

“You’re angry that we didn’t bring you to the vineyard,” Theo guessed when she didn’t reply. “Céline, you know it’s for your own safety and protection.”

“And you think I was safer here?”

“Well, weren’t you?” Theo gave her a pointed look, then turned away to open the door. He went in first, leaving Céline to trail after him.

“No,” she said, her voice thick as she closed the door behind them.

“What do you mean?”

“A German officer came while you were out.” It was some comfort that Theo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Hauptmann Richter, the same man who came to raid our cellars after the invasion began.”