All righty... I had to rewrite about half this chapter to tone down the unnecessary...ahem...intensity that made absolutely no sense (I swear, I have no idea why I thought that was a good idea at four in the morning). I haven't been on top of my game lately. But enough of my griping. Let's get this party started.
Two things happened around the time that I thought Erik must be a year old or maybe a bit older. Neither was anything I had been hoping for. The first was that, after approximately eight months, I received a letter from my sister. She wrote that everyone was well and missed me terribly, and asked what I was doing that I could not come home for a visit. She hoped I had not fallen into a bad trade, and questioned whether or not it would be wise for her to visit me.
The tone of her letter left me uneasy. How could I reply? She sounded anxious to see me again, and though I did want to visit with her and my father, I didn't see how that was possible, especially if, as my sister was wont to do, she came here on a whim.
For days, I remained on edge, dreading a knock on the door, fearing what Madeleine might do if they showed unexpectedly and what it might mean for me and my ever-growing precarious position in this house. Erik trailed after me, as he always did, but I had not the heart to tell him stories or play. I became utterly distracted and lost my nerve one day when the dreaded knock on the door finally did come.
It was neither my father nor my sister at the door. I was dumbfounded as I stared at a gangly, awkward boy about my age. No visitors ever came to this house besides Marie and the priest. Who was this boy?
I got my answer when Madeleine entered behind me.
"Ah, you're here! Good. I think Orianne needs a day out."
I was cowed. "Madame, who is he?"
"This is Arnaud. He is going to take you into Rouen for the day, to pick up some things I purchased."
"I couldn't possibly…"
"Don't be absurd," she said, after pulling me back inside. In a low voice, she continued, "I will stay home today. Erik will be perfectly safe." She smiled. I knew that smile. It meant trouble. But before I could protest any further, she had thrust my cloak at me and shoved me out the door.
Arnaud led me out to a rickety, dirty wagon, climbed in first, and hauled me up, grabbing my bottom on the way. I was to find out that he was the single most disgusting person I would ever meet. For the entire journey, he alternately picked at spots and his nose and wiped the findings on his sleeve. He snorted and spat. It was a good twenty minutes or so before he was inclined to say anything.
When he did speak, the first thing he said was, "I hear you're the monster's nurse."
For the sake of my protection, I replied, "I am Madame Claudin's housekeeper. I heard tell of the monster child, but have never seen it. I suspect it either died or was sent to an asylum before I was employed." I hoped my face did not betray me.
"Good riddance," he hawked and spat into the road. "But that doesn't explain why no one ever sees her in the village."
"She is widowed and misses her husband terribly. It grieves her to think that she must live without him."
"You'd think she was an old grandmother," he snorted. "Anyway, we're supposed to pick up some carpets and a lamp."
It was silent for the rest of the journey. When we got to Rouen, he insisted on stopping at a restaurant which served the cheapest and worst of foods, meaning I had to sit through a meal with him and watch him eat like a pig at a trough. I picked at a bread roll and drank some watery wine, but I had no appetite.
When he finally decided to conduct what business we had come to do, he did nothing but argue with everyone, the clerks, the moving-men, and the shopkeepers.
Pulling a dirty, finger-printed list from his pocket, he continually asked "Is this the right…" or "Is that the style she ordered?" I didn't know why Madeleine had sent me or how much more of this I had to endure.
It was nearing dusk when we left Rouen, and the darkening sky seemed somehow ominous. There was no moon, and all was darkness save for the lantern tied to the front of the wagon. It wasn't long before I realized we had gotten lost in the dark and were somewhere in a wood. The horses faltered and spooked as an owl called and Arnaud tugged on the reins.
"We'll have to stop here," he said. "I hope you don't mind."
"Of course I mi…" I began, but before I could finish, Arnaud clapped a hand over my mouth.
His voice took on a different tone when he next spoke. "I was hoping you'd catch on, but you haven't. I know—everyone knows—that that thing is still alive. It's a small town. Everyone knows everyone else's business. The madam keeps him locked up in the house for safety, but someday she'll forget. I'd advise you to leave, mademoiselle, before anything happens. You and they are the lowest of the low, and most of the village would have no qualms about disposing of you all. Or, if you really do care for it, take it far away. Someday soon they'll come for him, and mark my words, none of you will be left alive."
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, as he uncovered my mouth.
"Consider yourself warned, Mademoiselle. But rest assured, I'm an ally."
"An ally for what?"
"I've heard enough talk. There are plans. I won't tell you this again. Be on your guard."
"So your bumbling idiocy was all an act?"
"I thought it might be better if you thought me simple. You might feel less threatened." he said sheepishly. With a flick of the reins, we continued on.
As we approached, I could see that the house was completely dark. No lamps were lit, no candles in the window. I hoped the door had been left unlocked. Taking the lantern, I jumped down ungracefully from the seat and rushed to the door, which, thankfully, was unlocked.
"Do you want me to come in?" Arnaud shouted.
"No, just leave everything by the door." I called. I didn't want him coming in, worrying that he would steal something and I would be blamed.
He carried the things to the door and almost tossed them inside. I stood in the doorway still holding a lamp when he ran down the drive, jumped in the wagon, and drove off. Feeling odd, I put down the lamp and staggered outside. The full weight of what he had told me was too much for me to bear. I collapsed on the ground and emptied my stomach behind the rosebushes.
Well, what a pleasant fellow. Should I make him a recurring character?
I had no idea what I was thinking for he entire last half of this chapter. I think it's pretty obvious.
Apologies for my snarkiness.
Please review.
