Chapter II
The Baron de Sauveterre, Gabrielle's employer, was a monarchist through and through. Gabrielle knew she had to be careful what she said around his children, as children are always wont to repeat things adults say, and Armand had already proven to be up to his usual mischief in following her to the Café Musain. She avoided the café for a few weeks after her talk with Enjolras, but she didn't mind too much. On her usual night off, Gabrielle wrote her novel at a much less raucous café closer to home. If she had any unwanted shadows, they would soon grow bored with her predictable and mundane activity.
One beautiful April day, Gabrielle found herself in The Tuileries garden with Louisa and Armand. She had acquiesced to their pleas to have their lessons there since the sun was too bright and tempting to stay indoors. They relaxed on a blanket in the grass and each child was working math problems on their little slates. Louisa's were almost as tough as Armand's, and Gabrielle teased him about the fact that his little sister was soon going to leave him behind if he didn't get serious about his studies. Today it worked to sufficiently motivate him, though it usually didn't matter.
"I'm done!" Armand said triumphantly and held his slate out for her to see. She quickly checked his work and praised him for getting the problem right. "Now, what is 2,583 divided by 53?"
Armand erased his slate and got back to work, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as it usually did when he concentrated, and Gabrielle grinned, turning back to her book.
"Mademoiselle Feuilly!" Gabrielle looked up when she heard her name and looked around. Coming toward her were three of her brother's friends – Monsieurs Courfeyrac, Joly, and Enjolras.
She smiled in greeting and rose, as did Armand, his math problem forgotten. Gabrielle curtseyed politely to the men. "Good afternoon, Monsieurs." They each greeted her and Gabrielle took in the books in their arms. "Are you all coming from class or going to?"
"Coming from, thank goodness. I'm happy to be free on this beautiful afternoon." Monsieur Courfeyrac smiled and gestured to Armand. "And who are your charges, Mademoiselle?"
Gabrielle put an arm around Armand's shoulders and held Louisa's hand as the shy little girl rose to stand behind her, trying to hide her face in Gabrielle's skirts. "This handsome young man is Armand de Sauveterre, and this is his sister, Louisa. These young men are friends of my brothers, Armand, and students at the university. Monsieur Courfeyrac, Joly, and Enjolras," Gabrielle said as she gestured to each of them in turn.
"Pleased to meet you, Monsieurs." Armand shook their hands seriously, but stopped when he came to Enjolras. "I remember you, Monsieur. I heard you make a speech once."
Enjolras' eyebrows rose and he glanced at Gabrielle. "Oh? And what did you think of it, young man?"
"Well, I don't think I understood most of it." Armand frowned. "But I do know you're a Republican, like that General Lamarque. My father doesn't like him."
Gabrielle winced and hoped Enjolras wouldn't be ruffled by the words of a spoiled, rich nine year old.
"I'm sure your father has his reasons," Enjolras said diplomatically, but with an icy edge to his tone.
"Well! What are you all doing out here today?" Joly interceded gaily, changing the subject.
Gabrielle smiled in gratitude. "The children convinced me they would be more productive outside today. So far they are doing well. Armand here, though, is convinced that he doesn't need to go to university someday. I think that you three would disagree?"
Courfeyrac grinned. "Educated men are much more attractive to young ladies, Armand. Though that might not mean much to you right now..."
Armand made a face at his words and Joly laughed. He began talking to Armand about the benefits of an education, and Gabrielle watched Enjolras, who soon began impatiently shifting from foot to foot. She could tell he wanted to be on his way, but while the others were distracted, Gabrielle stepped forward and asked curiously, "How are your plans coming along, Monsieur?"
"They are coming," Enjolras said cautiously. "I have noticed your absence at the last few meetings, Mademoiselle."
Gabrielle smiled, remembering what Monsieur Combeferre had told her about Enjolras always noticing who was missing from their gatherings. "I'm flattered that you noticed, Monsieur. I have been cautious..." she whispered, "since I learned that Armand followed me one night. That is when he heard you speak."
"Our meetings are no place for the children of aristocrats," Enjolras agreed. "Did he really not understand what I said?"
"He understands enough to know he could get me in trouble with his father."
"Mmm," Enjolras made a soft sound of understanding. "Come when you can, but stay cautious, Mademoiselle Feuilly. There is much at stake for us right now."
He is always so serious, Gabrielle thought.
Enjolras soon interrupted the others and reminded them that they needed to be going. They said polite goodbyes and continued through the park.
"Back to work," Gabrielle said, and settled back down on the blanket, handing each child their slate.
Louisa scooted closer to Gabrielle and leaned in, a bright smile on her face. "Mademoiselle Feuilly! That Monsieur Enjolras is very handsome." Her little face was pink and she giggled.
Gabrielle laughed and pinched her cheeks. "Why, Louisa!" She leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "I have to say I agree, my darling, but he is also very serious." She screwed up her face and narrowed her eyes in her best impression of Enjolras and the little girl giggled and fell over dramatically.
It was days like today, Gabrielle reflected, that she didn't really mind her job as a governess.
The next week, Gabrielle was able to sneak away to the Café Musain again. She made it upstairs just in time to see Enjolras beginning an impassioned speech to his friends. He stood on a table in the corner in order to be seen by all, and his eyes blazed as he spoke. Gabrielle glanced around to find her brother, and spying him on the other side of the room, slowly made her way over. She whispered hello, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, and turned her attention back to Enjolras.
"My friends, General Lamarque is the only government official that is on the side of the people. He is the only one who sees the suffering as we do every day – the children running barefoot through the streets, learning that thievery is a better way to survive than hard work. For what will hard work get them, I ask? Nothing," he emphasized. "For there are no jobs. France is suffering as prices, rent and taxes steadily rise. All while our good king Louis-Phillippe sits on his throne growing fatter and richer at the expense of our people. This injustice is not to be borne!" he roared.
Gabrielle felt a chill go through her body as she watched him. He was absolutely amazing – no wonder these men looked to him for leadership. He was a natural and came alive as he spoke. Where was the usually quiet, reserved, and stoic young man who sat in the corner and observed? He was gone, replaced by this golden Apollo, a mythic figure come to life as he spoke of the things that made the blood sing in his veins. At that moment, Gabrielle would have gladly taken up arms and followed him into battle, as would every other person in the room. They all shook their fists in approval and hung on his every word.
Towards the end of his speech, Enjolras lowered his voice and there was a collective breath that ran through the room, everyone leaning in to better hear, just as he wanted. He looked at each person in turn, holding their gaze with his icy blue eyes, and seemed to see into their very souls. "Soon, the time will come for us to take action. Soon, we will free our glorious nation from the hands which have stolen her from us, and the blood that was spilled two years ago will be avenged. Soon, the people will rise! Vive le France!"
Cheers and chanting reverberated through the room and Gabrielle found herself cheering and clapping just as wildly as the rest of them. Enjolras jumped down from the table, shaking hands and graciously accepting the accolades that came his way. Gabrielle couldn't help but feel that she was watching someone who was going to go down in history. He should be the subject of a painting, looking just as he looked now – shirt open, cravat loose, disorderly curls, and eyes that could see the future. Surely, in five hundred years, this man would have his name written in every history book read by children throughout the world, an Alexander for the new age – the man who would bring about the final, and real, French Revolution.
An hour or so later, the meeting had mostly cleared out, except for the few core members of the Les Amis de l'ABC, and Gabrielle. She was too in awe of Enjolras to speak to him tonight, and sat with her brother at a table by the window.
"Enjolras was marvelous tonight, wasn't he?"
"He was in rare form," Feuilly agreed. "He told me they saw you in the park with the de Sauveterre children last week. He seemed concerned about the boy?"
"He followed me here one night. He is full of trouble," Gabrielle said fondly. "He heard Enjolras speak and claims he did not understand, but I think he understands enough."
Feuilly frowned and took her hand. "Gabrielle, though I enjoy seeing you here, I do not want trouble for you. We can go elsewhere and see each other."
Gabrielle squeezed his hand. Her brother had always been her only protector. "Alexandre, I do not come to these meetings just to see you. I share your views, and believe in your cause, and I have to admit, the thought of a revolution is rather thrilling."
Feuilly frowned deeper. "Do you truly understand what a revolution would mean?"
"Do you?"
"Yes, I do, Gabrielle," Feuilly explained patiently. "I'm not so sure all of the Les Amis do, but I know I am willing to lay down my life in the name of progress and equality. Combeferre believes in progress through peace, but Enjolras...he says there is a battle coming. He can feel it in his veins, and I will follow him into that battle."
Even as Feuilly spoke the words with conviction, Gabrielle had a hard time truly believing them. She tried to picture her brother shooting a musket, but the image of him with a paintbrush, bent over his beautiful fans, played instead.
She said nothing for a while, then sighed. "I almost envy you...the adventure of it. Taking up arms to fight for justice, like the Americans in their revolution. You will be real heroes, the kind people write about in novels."
"We are no heroes, Mademoiselle Feuilly." Gabrielle jumped as Enjolras suddenly appeared at her side. "You are romanticizing revolution, when in reality many of us will not come out alive. There is nothing romantic about that."
She gazed up at him, at his marble exterior and calm facade, and felt she could almost call his bluff. "You long for your revolution, Monsieur. You romanticize it, too, in your own way. Just because you understand the risks does not mean your heart does not beat wildly in pleasure when you think of taking up arms to fight for your beloved Patria."
Enjolras pulled up a chair to join their conversation and Gabrielle felt a little triumphant that he was paying attention to her again. She knew she was developing a ridiculous fascination with the man, but really, who could help it? He sometimes seemed to shine with a sort of ethereal, holy light.
He regarded her evenly, contemplating her words. "Perhaps that is romanticizing. I think of it more as a calling, Mademoiselle."
"I regard that as rather the same thing," she said quickly. "And I do think it is your calling, Monsieur Enjolras. After seeing you speak tonight, I gladly would take up arms and follow your lead." She blushed a bit at that last statement.
Feuilly rubbed his forehead uncomfortably and said sheepishly, "My sister has a rather vivid imagination, as you can tell, Enjolras."
Gabrielle glared at him, her temper rising. "Why should I not be able to fight as well as you? You've never wielded a gun before, Alexandre. I could learn as quickly, and be just as able."
If Enjolras was capable of looking amused, Gabrielle imagined he looked it now. "Indeed, Mademoiselle? We have spoken of women being the equal of men before. I would not turn you away from the fight if you were to join," he said seriously.
Gabrielle resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at her brother in triumph and she did feel rather smug at Enjolras' admission. "Thank you, Monsieur. I appreciate that your actions would match your words."
Feuilly looked as if he wanted to say more, but Gabrielle rose. "I do need to be going, though, it is late."
Enjolras rose and looked hesitatingly at Feuilly. "Will you accompany your sister home, Feuilly?"
"Yes," he said curiously, "unless you will do the job for me? It is on the way to your apartment, after all." He looked incredulous, and Gabrielle felt a thrill again. She knew Enjolras did not usually pay attention to women, and yet he was offering to walk her home. She would be the envy of every woman downstairs in the tavern.
"If you do not mind, Mademoiselle?" Enjolras asked politely.
"No, not at all. Thank you, Monsieur Enjolras."
Enjolras offered her his arm and they made their way through the room. Gabrielle could feel the men's eyes on her back and she had a feeling they would tease Enjolras mercilessly tomorrow. He either didn't care or didn't realize, and paid no attention to them as they left the café.
She told him the baron's address and they began walking.
"Am I truly on your way home, Monsieur, or are you just being a gentleman?"
Enjolras glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and told her his address. "I am not going out of my way, Mademoiselle Feuilly."
"Oh. Well, that's good..." Her voice trailed off awkwardly and the sudden silence of the still night compared to the café rendered them silent, as well. Gabrielle didn't know what else to say. Suddenly, Enjolras spoke.
"I heard from a source today that General Lamarque is ill."
Gabrielle glanced up at him, realizing how tall he was now that she was walking right next to him. "How ill?"
"I do not know. It seems as if he has been struck with cholera. I'd imagine it is serious."
Gabrielle frowned. She didn't really know what that would mean for his cause – would it incite fire into the hearts of the people or would losing their champion have the opposite effect? "What do you think that will mean, Monsieur?"
He let her question linger for a while, their footfalls echoing silently on the pavement. Finally, he said, "I believe it could be the impetus I have been waiting for."
She stopped walking and he turned to look at her. She was once again struck by his beauty as a lone streetlamp shined down on his hair, turning it golden in the light. She looked at him a little too long and blushed, averting her eyes. "And you will fight? Your friends will fight?"
"I will fight, yes. I believe my friends will, although I do not know if all of them truly realize it yet. Sometimes, I think this is all fun and games to them," he said disdainfully.
"Not every man has that calling, Monsieur, that we spoke of earlier. Not all are as selfless or brave."
He frowned, always so serious and self-effacing. "I do not think myself brave, Mademoiselle Feuilly. Others should not think so, either."
Gabrielle smiled and continued walking, taking his arm again. "Perhaps not, but they do. And they will continue to think so. You have a natural charm, and I believe you do know this. I believe men are not made leaders, but born so. You were born to lead these men."
This time it was Enjolras who stopped and looked at her. "You think too much of me." For the first time since she'd met him, Gabrielle heard the slightest twinge of doubt in voice. It made him seem more man than God.
"Your modesty does you credit, Monsieur."
Enjolras hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "You may call me Antoine, if you prefer, Mademoiselle."
Gabrielle felt another spark of excitement run through her, but she tried to to hide her feelings behind a calm exterior like his. "Then you may call me Gabrielle."
He smiled, or what passed for a smile for him, and they walked in companionable silence all the way to the de Sauveterre house.
"This is it," Gabrielle said quietly as they approached, and Enjolras looked up at the towering structure with disdain.
"So few people, yet so much space. Wasteful," he commented, and Gabrielle had to admit she agreed. She had never seen the point in having so many bedrooms the furniture had to be covered with sheets just to keep the dust off.
"Yes, well. They keep me employed, so I will not complain."
"Thank you for letting me walk you home. I enjoy your conversation, Gabrielle." Enjolras looked a little uncomfortable as he spoke, and Gabrielle took that as a good sign.
"And I yours. I will see you at your meeting next week?" she asked uncertainly, and he nodded.
"You are always welcome."
Gabrielle reached out and touched his arm in farewell, and he continued down the street. She watched him for a moment, then called softly and unexpectedly, "Antoine!" He turned back to look at her. She didn't know exactly what she wanted to express, so she said the closest thing she could think of. "Be careful."
He smiled and turned, continuing on his way. Gabrielle had a feeling his glorious revolution was almost upon him.
Thank you for reading. :) Please review!
