LARK
Madam Thenardier tried her best to change the subject, asking the Young Man if he'd have some dinner, but the charming gentleman interrupted her again.
"Maybe later madam," his tone was polite, yet stern. "I wish to speak to this young lady in private." The way that he strung his words together broadcasted his riches and breeding like a street sign. No one of such high birth had ever set foot in the Thenardier chophouse, and Cosette knew he would be given his way.
Her heart fluttered nervously. The handsome young gentleman-to be sure he was the most handsome man Cosette had ever seen, in manner and physique-wished to speak to her...alone. Had she done something wrong? It seemed unlikely, as they'd only been in each other's presence for a few moments. And in those few moments he'd done nothing but defend her. In Cosette's experience, this was not the conduct shown by one who was offended or put off. Then what was it?
One question still bothered her young mind as he gently led her away into the upper rooms, away from the gaping mouths of the Thenardiers, and that was this: Why? Every act of kindness the Lark had ever witnessed had been in payment for something previous. A young girl tended a woman's child, and thereby earned a loaf of bread; A student needed help with his schoolwork, and an old man needed a new roof, so they traded kindnesses. Cosette wracked her brain, but she could find nothing she had done to deserve his gentle smile, his protective presence. The very thought confused her.
When they were at last alone, the gentleman closed the door softly, and turned to face her with a grim look on his face. For a long time he stayed that way, and Cosette, blushing madly, tried to pick with her fingers through her tangled hair. She waited as long as she was able for him to speak first, instinct telling her that this was the proper thing, but she couldn't stand the stillness of the moment. "Monsieur, what may I do for you?"
He seemed to come back to his senses. "Nothing...Nothing at all, thank you mademoiselle," he said the words almost automatically, then suddenly, "Cosette." The way he said her name turned it from a warning bell, telling her to brace herself for the hurt to come, into something soft and bright, beautiful even. She looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time. They were dark, but they possessed a certain light that mesmerized Cosette. Her soul seemed to be drinking it in, and she never wished to stop. For a timeless moment they remained there until the young man, whom Cosette, without even knowing his name, had begun to fall in love with, spoke again.
"Cosette. That is your name, is it not?"
"Yes monsieur," the Lark said breathlessly. Dare she ask? Yes. She felt she could ask anything of him. "And what is yours?"
The young man flushed. "Forgive me. I am the Baron Marius Pontmercy." He stooped, and she allowed him to kiss her hand, painfully aware her calloused fingers.
"Marius," Cosette sighed, forgetting his rank, and that she should be the one bowing. His was the first touch she could remember that wasn't meant to inflict pain, and the poor girl was in ecstasy.
"Cosette," Marius broke off again, "I swear to you, I will do all that is in my power to free you from this place, but I have no means...as of yet...to do so."
Cosette was in shock. Because of the surprise, and her great lack of food and rest, she nearly fainted, falling into the Barron's arms.
Forgetting all propriety, they sat on the bed together, his arms around her shoulders. Again, their eyes met. Cosette felt his face coming ever closer until suddenly, without even knowing what she was doing, she had closed her eyes and could feel his lips on hers. They were warm and tender. Touching him sent a glittering shiver down her spine, making her feel as though she were glowing.
"Oh Marius," she said when they broke apart. "I...you're the kindest most wonderfully perfect person I have ever met. But I don't understand..."
"Don't understand what, darling?" That word. There was something magical about it. She swallowed.
"I don't understand...why. Why are you doing this? You must know I can give you nothing in return for your kindness. I have nothing to offer you-"
BARRON
"You have everything to offer me. You alone are everything. Cosette I-" Marius cut himself off. His feelings were so shockingly deep that they frightened him, and he didn't want to scare her. But she was calm and attentive. He knew it would take much more than words to frighten Cosette. He swallowed. "I love you." She breathed in sharply, and blinked, as though she'd been touched from behind. Marius cursed himself inwardly, then rushed to explain. "I know people don't usually fall in love so quickly...it must seem impossible to you, but-"
"No." Cosette interrupted him simply, shaking her head. The confusion on her face had melted away, replaced by the kindest smile Marius had ever seen. She placed a soft hand on his chest. "It can't be impossible. Because I love you too."
Never had the Barron felt a stranger mix of emotions. All at once he was ecstatic and despairing; nervous and secure; he was afraid, but filled with inexplicable courage.
"What do you think it would take for them to let me take you away from here?"
The girl sighed, shaking her head. "Marius, the only reason they've let me come up here and talk with you is because they think you have a lot of money. They're not like you. They don't believe in giving. Only taking."
"Well then, maybe if we... No." For a few fleeting moments, Marius had considered running away with the girl. But she was too sacred. His intentions were righteous, of course, but still...
"I can never leave the inn," she said, "Except at midnight, when I go to draw water from the well in the woods of Montfremeil."
"Every night?" He whispered to himself, "Well then Cosette, if you will allow me to-"
"I will,"
Marius blushed. "I will be there to meet you, every night, at midnight, when you go to the well."
She smiled, and he felt her delicate fingers interlock with his. "I can't wait. But now you must go. They won't tolerate unpaying customers for long."
He nodded then, squeezed her hand, and walked downstairs. As he left, he said to the innkeepers, in a voice shockingly like his grandfathers, "I find this inn to be in quite unsatisfactory condition. I cannot stay here tonight. A word of business advice for you monsieur, madame," he added, "Your maid will be of much better use to you if you actually feed and clothe her." With that, he slammed the door, leaving the family staring at him open mouthed.
'Drat. I hope that won't get her in trouble' he thought, 'maybe I should...yes. Just in case.'
"I may be back," he said, sticking his head back into the room, "to check on things."
