Burgundy, France - the REAL Burgundy, not Bernhard’s Burgundy
Spring, 1634

“I’ve got a gardener,” the baron said around a mutton chop. “Two of them. And a boy to do the weeding.”

“Sieur,” André Le Nôtre started, but the baron interrupted him.

“Why should I take you on? Because you’ve got a bit of paper that said you worked for the Duc d’Orleans? How do I know it’s not fake . . .



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