Upon reaching the top of the hill, Monsieur LeFou thought it would be a good time to dismount from his mare and stretch his legs. Without letting go of the reins, he turned to admire the sight before him and breathe deeply the fresh air of the country. How he had missed Villeneuve! The quiet music of green leaves swayed by the warm spring breeze, the whistling of the birds chirping happily in the trees and the apparent stillness of the wilderness in this corner of the world was enough to make him feel at home. Villeneuve was far away from the noise of the big cities and, in his heart, he was thankful for it. Even if change was slow to come to this little town, its peacefulness made up for its shortcomings. Many a time, fighting foreign foes abroad, he found himself yearning for the comforts of the place in which he had been born and lived in all his life.
It was good to be back after so long, he thought. Deciding against mounting again, he made his way on foot to the heart of the little village. Time had the great quality of making things that would normally came off as irksome, oddly charming. This was the case the market that, on Sundays, was twice as big and colourful as it usually was, filling the streets with all kinds of eager buyers and sellers.
As he made his way through the crowd, he spotted an old acquaintance, which made him even happier to walk those streets again. Henri – a boy of twenty he had known since he was in his early teens, now a capable man that worked as a stable hand of one of the most respectable families in the surroundings – was struggling to make his way with three boxes of vegetables in front of him.
"Henri!" he greeted, amused at the sight. "How are you, boy?"
"Monsieur LeFou!" exclaimed the younger man, turning to him with some difficulty. Defeated, he decided to put down his burden and turned his attention to the man now in front of him. "Good to have you back so soon and in one piece!" he added with a little breathless laugh.
LeFou nodded with a smile. "I didn't know you were running errands now." He signalled the boxes. "I thought keeping the stables was work enough for a capable lad as yourself. Have you been naughty?" he inquired, with a little wink that made the younger boy's cheeks colour, which the LeFou interpreted as a confession of some unspeakable deed. "Youngsters are incorrigible! No wonder you lot keep getting whipped! Perhaps that's a habit Old Philippe should acquire…"
Henri hurried to explain. "Oh, no, sir! He is a kind master. He even insists that we should take days off, but sadly he can't afford to send us away now. We are having so many guests these days, you see. Cook needs all the help she can get."
LeFou frowned. "So unlike Philippe to throw parties. He has always been so reserved…"
"We wish that were the case, monsieur! To tell you the truth, he entertains but he doesn't enjoy a minute of it."
"What ails your Master, Henri?"
"The marriage of his daughter. That is," he added quickly "he intends to have her wed and is on a quest to find her a husband."
An image of the young Miss Rochard came to LeFou's mind. A darling girl, with white, delicate hands, rosy cheeks and pretty pink lips made for kissing, if you were into that sort of thing. "That should not be a problem. Marie is a beautiful and accomplished young girl. I'm sure many a young man from these parts would be delighted to contest for her hand." "Aye, she is. The master has no doubt she will find a good match, when she reaches her prime."
"Then what is it that worries him so?" enquired the newcomer. "Sir, I'm not talking about my Marie. He intends to marry off her elder sister."
LeFou's eyes widened in understanding as he remembered all the things he had heard about the infamous Miss Charlotte Rochard.
"Dear Lord!"
Henri sighed, tiredly. "Now you understand my lord's dismay. Who would have the guts to attach himself to that woman…? If she is indeed one, that is."
"Now, Henri, that's no way to talk of your betters." His reprimand fell flat, though. If half of what was said about the woman was true, he could not blame the young man for referring to her so callously.
"But sir! Who would want to doom himself to share life (and bed!) with such a hellish creature! I cannot think of a man so desperate that would subject himself to that torture, no matter how rich her father may be."
His fingers itched instantly as he unconsciously put his hands in the pockets of his vest.
"Rich, you say? How rich exactly?"
"Oh, the lord is wealthy enough, sir."
LeFou's voice dropped as he approached the young man, "Would you care to elaborate on that?"
He was counting on Henri's initial reticence to tell of his master's fortune, but a few golden coins did the trick. The retelling was illuminating enough to make him raise his eyebrows as his fingers run through the bottom of his empty pocket.
"But I'm telling you, monsieur. There's no man who could bend this devil of a woman!"
A smile graced the older man's lips. "Are you a betting man, Henri?"
"Why do you ask?"
"You see, I like you and I want to help you and your master. This whole business must be very taxing for the whole family. So, let me take care of it!"
"You would…?"
"Me?" he asked in disbelief. "Oh, no! No, no, no. I am not the marrying sort." He laughed good-naturedly and patted him on the shoulder. "But I may have just the man for the job!"
It was now Henri's turn to laugh as he made to grab his errands again.
"I see you don't believe me." "It's not that I don't trust you, monsieur, please do not be offended!" he replied, amused. "It's just I can't imagine anyone capable of this."
LeFou's gaze left the young man's face to conjure up the image of a handsome and roguish man in mind's eye. He was instantly before him, standing tall and proud, his chiseled features exuding confidence enough to warm his chest with admiration and devotion.
"Well, he is quite exceptional." He explained, fondly, to the incredulous stable hand. "To tell you the truth, there's no one like him."