"Tom?" Duchess asked softly, "Can you please say something?"
The man in question looked up to her, his expression one of disbelief, "Sorry?",
She sighed, "I said, can you please say something? You're making me nervous"
The redhead coughed and sat up, adjusting his waistcoat, "Yeah, I'm sorry, it's just a shock" he replied.
"Do you think I'm not shocked?" Duchess frowned, holding her own arms across her body tightly,
"Of course!" Tom answered quickly, standing and joining her on the lounge seat. He placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in closer, "It's shocking news, very shocking news",
"But you are happy about it, aren't you?" the blonde added, panic slipping through her usual sophisticated resolve,
"Yes!" Tom yelped, "Of course! I mean- it's happy news! Shocking, but happy news",
She sighed in relief, and turned her body towards him, hugging him tightly, "I'm so glad you think so"
"Of course" he nodded, holding her in return.
Tom's eyes were still bulging from their sockets however, their focus over Duchess' shoulder and on the letter from the doctor that lay on the table before them. A letter which confirmed that at the age of forty-seven, she was two, nearly three months pregnant in fact.
It was 1923, and despite having been married for eleven years, Duchess and Thomas O'Malley had at no point even considered having children. The triplets were enough, even now that they were grown and spent very little time at home between them.
They were as good as Tom's own anyway.
No, instead they spent their life together travelling and performing the normal social niceties expected of a high-class family in Paris.
Duchess was a well-liked socialite, both beautiful and talented. And Tom, despite being an American, had come to be appreciated too.
Being a Yank was bad enough, but being Duchess' second husband had made it all the more difficult, especially being five years her junior. Many of her colleagues had been very reserved about the idea of her marrying again, and many of them who had known her first husband had been set on comparing Tom to him in every aspect.
The redhead had easily won them over one by one however.
He was charming, handsome and trying his very best to culture himself. Even his wit had its place amongst their conversation.
Duchess was extremely proud.
It was impossible to tell how the news of her pregnancy would be taken however, and not just by their fellow society members.
"We need to tell the children" Duchess said, quickly pulling away from her husband, worry once again coming to her expression,
"Already?" Tom replied, blushing,
"Well we can't keep it from them" she answered, raising her eyebrows at him.
"No, I suppose not" he said biting his lip, "So when are you going to tell them?"
Duchess blinked, as though she had not heard him, "We need to all sit down together and talk it through"
-So, she had heard him, she was just choosing to ignore his choice of words.
"Well it'll be difficult to get them together right now" the redhead said with a frown,
It was true, these days the triplets each had very busy schedules, even if it wasn't always entirely clear what it was that they were all doing.
"Well I can send someone to find Marie at the salon, and Toulouse will be at the studio" Duchess then winced, "Finding Berlioz is the real problem",
Tom mimicked her expression,
Berlioz was always the most difficult to track down these days, and he was also the one of the three of them who spent the least amount of time at home -apart from when he slept in until midday of course. That was to say, more often than not, he arrived home in the early hours of the morning, slept until 1 or 2 in the afternoon, and was then gone again by 6.
"I'll go and find him" Tom said with a nod, standing from the lounge chair,
"Are you sure?" his wife asked, watching as he collected his suit jacket and pulled it on.
He shrugged, adjusting his cuffs, "I've got a good idea of where he'll be"
"Well don't be long" Duchess said standing too, folding her hands in front of herself,
Tom looked to the blonde and her concerned expression, "I won't be" he said with a gentle smile.
He then took a step back towards her, and placing his hand on her arm, planted a gentle kiss against her mouth,
The man felt her lips form a soft smile against his own, and after one more reassuring squeeze of her forearm, he finally turned away and headed from the room.
0o0o0
Tom truly did have a good idea of where he would be able to find Berlioz, mostly because he knew something that Duchess didn't,
He didn't like lying to his wife, but he honestly believed that on this occasion, it was for her own good.
For a long time, Berlioz was considered the most talented of Duchess' children,
Not by her of course, she considered each of her children to be equals. It was society on the other hand that did not.
Berlioz was handsome, charming and a talented musician. He had so much promise, in composing, playing, and as a potential husband to some lucky girl of course.
The moment he had dropped out of music college however, that had all changed,
Every offer had dried up.
He was still handsome of course, even if he wasn't always the best put together. And he was still charming too, even if he was so aloof that most people didn't get to experience it.
It was the music that had changed, Berlioz had said that he simply wanted more freedom, and Tom had a good idea as to why,
It was down to Louis Crothers, or 'Uncle Scat Cat' as the children better knew him.
Berlioz had started to spend a lot of time with Louis from the age of 13, playing piano for him and his friends. Now at 19, it seemed like that was nightly event. In fact, it was apparently all that he did.
Tom hadn't told Duchess for a number of reasons, partly because Louis' clientele were famous for being, well, infamous. But mostly because over the years, Duchess had developed a slight distaste for Louis.
She had liked him well enough on their first meeting, all those years ago, back in 1910, during 'the incident'.
But since, one very particular thing had coloured her impression,
He'd gotten exceedingly drunk at their wedding, and as Tom's best man, had weaved a very long, mostly false yarn about 'the incident'.
A yarn that, with a lack for a better word, had made Duchess sound 'loose' as she put it, in regards to the way she had 'thrown herself' at Tom,
Since, although the damage had been repaired both by time, and clarification of exactly what had happened, the woman was still weary of Louis.
Tom was certain she'd be horrified if she knew about Berlioz's coming and goings with him, and now with the new news of her pregnancy, he was sure that it was not the time to tell her.
Although, he still had his doubts, especially as he wandered through the club's front door,
Tom winced as he made his way down the short corridor, his hands going deep into his trouser pockets as he shrugged his shoulders up close to his ears. He'd forgotten just how dark it was in there, even in the mid-afternoon,
The thick doors and heavy curtains that lined the place left it feeling very closed in, and they acted in muffling the music that played daily too,
The melodic, if not slightly disjointed piano music greeted him beyond the final door, as if acting as a testament to that fact.
It wasn't exactly recognisable as any one song, 'jaunty' was probably the best way to describe the tune if anything,
Tom wasn't surprised by the uncertainty of the music however, especially when he saw that the pianist was so distracted.
Berlioz was sharing his piano stool with a very pretty blonde, while an equally attractive brunette sat on top of the instrument,
He was looking between the two of them with a huge smile on his face, and a lit cigarette held between two of his fingers that were stumbling absently over the keys.
A couple of intoxicated teens sat at a table a few feet away, singing poorly to the music, and making Berlioz and his female company laugh even more.
The young man continued to play the melody with one hand as the other placed the cigarette between his lips and he took a long drag of the tobacco, with something else undoubtedly mixed into the blend as well,
Tom sighed, placing his hands on his hips, and licking his lips to talk, "Berlioz?",
The ravenette in question faltered on the next key and he tensed his shoulders, his head receding into his neck.
"Here" he whispered, passing the cigarette to the blonde girl, before turning on the bench quickly and standing to greet Tom with an overly enthusiastic smile, "Tom" he said brightly, stifling a single cough, "Everything okay?" he asked, approaching his stepfather.
"This should be tied" he replied, pointing at Berlioz's tie when he got close enough,
The strip of red silk was draped around his collar, far from serving its purpose,
"Oh-" the young man said looking to it, "-sorry", he set about tying it into a half Windsor, luckily without much trouble, "You won't-" he paused, looking up to Tom and appealing to him with a nervous expression, "You won't tell mother about the cigarette, will you?",
"I'll do you one better, I won't tell her about the girls either" he replied, folding his arms.
Berlioz winced as he fixed the knot of his tie a little too tightly, and definitely too far down from his collar, "Thank you" he nodded. He then pulled one hand through his unwashed hair, scooping it way from his eyes, and vaguely leaving it in the shape of a smart coif, "Is everything okay?" he then repeated, "You don't usually- you never come to see me here",
"Oui oui, been a while since we've seen you in 'Chateau de Scat', O'Malley"
Berlioz laughed nervously, while Tom stifled a groan.
Louis Crothers, the 'Scat Cat' himself had emerged from the curtains, a broad grin on his face as he approached them,
He was a stout older aged man these days, rather than a stout middle-aged man. His back hair was filled with greys, but it was mostly covered by his signature bowler hat anyway.
"Louis" Tom sighed, begrudgingly smiling and accepting the incoming hug,
"Thomas! How are you?" Louis replied, squeezing the taller man in a tight gripped embrace,
The redhead winced as an ache was set into his ribs, but smiled reassuringly as he pulled away, easily slipping his hands back into his pockets, "I'm well thank you Louis, and yourself?"
"Only 'well'?" he chuckled, sitting himself at a table with a bit of a wheeze, "I'm more than well, you sound like you need a drink" he added.
The 'Scat Cat' then lifted his hand to a man stood at the partially concealed bar by the far wall, and the man began to stack glasses on a tray to bring over to them,
"Oh no, no, I can't stay Louis, I just came to collect Berlioz" Tom said, shaking his head.
"Our boy Berlioz, of course!" he replied, he then gestured to the table he was sat at, "Both of you, join me"
They did as the man said, albeit rather begrudgingly by Tom, and then watched as the barman deposited three cylindrical glasses and a partial bottle of the red wine between them.
"Here we are" Louis said, pulling the cork out of the bottleneck, "Wine Berlioz?"
The young man went to answer, but was quickly cut off by his stepfather,
"No thank you Louis, we really can't stay, like I said"
"Just a quick one Tom", the man said with a shrug, pouring a very healthy serving of wine, and passing the glass to Berlioz who smiled his thanks,
"I want to make a toast" old Scat added, pouring a second glass.
Tom rolled his eyes but accepted it, finding from the scent that the wine was at least of a much higher quality than he had been expecting.
"A toast-" Louis said, raising his own glass, which had by far the greatest amount of wine in,"-A toast to the talented Berlioz, our boy Berlioz and his musical prowess"
Tom didn't appreciate the term 'our boy Berlioz', not from Louis at least. It likely came from a place of jealousy, but he didn't like to think about that.
Berlioz blushed at the toast but said nothing once more, his expression disappearing behind his glass a moment later as he drank a large gulp of wine.
His stepfather made short work of his own drink, mostly because he didn't want to hang around for long. Once he was done, he placed the glass on the table, slapped his legs and then stood up, regarding Berlioz and Louis with a look,
"Right, we really need to go" he said, placing his hands on his hips,
"Already? It's only been a minute Tom"
He shrugged his shoulders, "Sorry Louis, I said we couldn't hang around for long. Come on Berlioz"
The ravenette looked a little disappointed, but nodded and stood, "See you later Uncle Louis" he said, joining his stepfather,
"Yeah, yeah, see you soon kid" Louis replied, looking equally disheartened.
Tom and Berlioz nodded to one another, and started towards the exit, only making it a few steps before the 'Scat Cat' demanded their attention again,
"Don't forget you hat Berlioz"
They turned towards him just as the brunette atop the piano tossed the hat in question to Louis. In turn, he threw it to Berlioz who caught it,
"Oh, thank you" he nodded, placing it on his head,
It was a clean black bowler hat, the 'bowl' and rim of which were separated by a red satin ribbon.
Tom stared at the hat, before quirking a curious and confused eyebrow at his stepson,
The young man blushed in response, before answering his unspoken question quietly: "It's just something I'm trying out"
0o0o0
"Berlioz!" Marie said with a huge beam as he entered the foyer of the house, Tom closing the door behind them,
"Hello Marie" he responded with a smile, accepting the hug she was offering him,
"I thought it was odd getting called home myself, but if you're home too it must mean trouble" the blonde laughed as they pulled away,
"What?" her brother asked, quirking his brow.
She rolled her eyes at him, "You know what I mean" she hitched the spaghetti string of her bag up higher onto her shoulder, "It must be a serious family meeting if we're all home at the same time",
"All of us?" Berlioz asked, looking over to Tom who was watching them from the doorway,
The redhead shrugged in response, choosing to not give anything away, "Afternoon Marie" he added.
The young woman's smile grew and she approached her stepfather, embracing him in a hug too and kissing him on the cheek, "Good afternoon" she nodded, pulling away, "So, are we in trouble?" she asked with a laugh,
Tom rolled his eyes at her and shook his head, "Come on" he said, leading the way through to the lounge.
Duchess was waiting for them as they entered, still sat on the couch, but she stood as soon as her children came into view, and she quickly went to accept hugs from them both.
"Is everything okay?" Marie asked, as she and Duchess went back to the longue chair together, their hands joined even as they sat, as her mother seemed resistant to let go.
"Oh, yes. Yes, everything's fine" she replied, nodding,
She then looked to Tom who was stood on the opposite side of the room.
He was meandering around by the fireplace, his arms folded and a serious expression on his face,
Berlioz meanwhile, was helping himself to a glass of port from the drinks table, "I thought Toulouse was going to be here too?" he asked, placing the crystal stopper back into the decanter and raising his drink to his lips,
Tom looked across to his wife, his expression asking a similar question.
"He wasn't at the studio" Duchess replied,
"Toulouse? Not at the studio?" Marie asked, almost laughing, "Where else would he be?"
"No one's sure" she answered, "But I'm certain he'll be along soon" she then let out an awkward cough, "In the meantime-"
Tom's eyes widened, was she really planning on telling them the news already?
The woman was cut off before she could begin however, as the longue door swung open again, this time revealing Toulouse,
He looked only marginally more tidy than usual, his outfit sporting half as much paint splatter is it normally would. But the most drastic thing about his appearance, was the massive grin he was wearing,
"Guess who just got their first, full, gallery show?" he asked, looking between the members of his family,
Tom and Duchess shared a look of disbelief, before quickly replacing their worry with expressions of jubilation- their news could wait for now.