When Belle awoke the next day, the sun was already high in the sky. The previous night was a bit of a blur, she remembered drinking far too much, she remembered dancing around the bonfire until her hat had become tedious and casting it into the flames, but everything after that was just flashes of images and a vague sense of regret. Her head ached fiercely, and she wished the curtains around the bed were closed so she could keep sleeping, but her stomach was unsettled and she had slept too long already. She groaned as she pushed herself into a sitting position, realizing immediately that that had been a bad idea.
She moved quickly to the edge of the bed, gratefully finding a chamber pot somebody must have left for he the night before, and emptying the contents of her stomach into it. Sitting back once she was done, she noticed a pitcher of water and an empty glass had also been left out. Belle would seriously consider kissing whomever had thought to leave those things for her, were she sure that would not end with her vomiting again. She rinsed her mouth out before taking a cautious sip of the water. The noise must have alerted Ruby she was awake, or else the girl had been checking on her regularly, as the door opened quietly and the familiar smiling face peeked in at her.
"Oh good, you're finally up!" Ruby chirped, the sound making Belle visibly cringe. "How are you feeling?"
"Everything hurts and I wish I were dead," Belle groaned, cradling her head in her hands and praying to any god willing to hear her that it wasn't going to actually split open.
"You'll be fine," Ruby replied, obviously trying to keep the amusement out of her voice and failing. "How was your night last night?"
"I never want to drink that much again," Belle forced out, her stomach churning and sending her back over the bed for the chamber pot.
"If everyone who ever said that really stopped, these festivals would be a lot less interesting," Ruby said, sitting next to Belle on her bed and pulling her hair back off her face, "anyway, from what I hear you weren't complaining last night. Gods, your hair is a mess. I wish I'd been able to do something with it last night, but by the time I got to you it was already too tangled to deal with while you were in that state."
"Ruby," Belle said, trying hard to maintain some semblance of calm despite her rising panic and nausea. "What exactly happened last night?"
"You don't remember?!" Ruby would have sounded worried if she didn't sound so amused as she stared at her, "you really were drunk, weren't you?"
"I remember bits and pieces of it, but I feel like I might be missing something fairly important."
"I wasn't there," Ruby began, "but Graham said that when he went looking for you and Dr. Gold around dawn, you were both asleep curled up under a tree. Together."
"How together?"
"His arms were around you and your head was on his chest." Ruby shrugged.
Oh, oh no. This was...this was beyond anything she had imagined. It was utter and absolute ruination. She had slept curled up around a man – in public – while passed out drunk. There was absolutely no way she would ever show her face in the village again. It would have been scandalous for a married woman to kiss her husband the way Belle had kissed Dr. Gold, but for an unmarried woman to kiss a man like that without even an engagement marked her as a woman of loose morals. She was now effectively cast out from society.
"Oh Ruby, what am I going to do?" The more she thought about it, the more that kept coming back to her. She remembered her hand on his thigh, she remembered him pulling her in for a kiss. She remembered other things, too. But which parts had she said out loud and which ones had she just thought? It felt like trying to remember a dream after waking, she knew the gist of it but the details kept changing. Oh please, she prayed to any god who could save her, please let him have forgotten as well.
"The first thing you're going to do," Ruby said, suddenly maternal in a way that made Belle want to cling to her and sob, "is sit here while I fetch you some tea and breakfast. All you've had since yesterday afternoon is liquor, and you need to eat. After that, you're going to sit here while I fix your hair and while I do that we will figure out the rest."
Belle initially rejected the idea of eating, but after a little tea and toast she was suddenly famished. She polished off a plate of bacon and eggs and sausage, and even one of her favorite jam pastries, before finally feeling done.
"So what do you remember from last night, anyway?" Ruby asked as she began tentatively combing out Belle's hair, which now resembled nothing so much as a giant bird's nest.
"I don't really know," she admitted, "it's coming back to me in bits and pieces. I remember dancing with strangers. I remember becoming tired and finding Dr. Gold. I remember we talked and...he may have said I was pretty? And then he kissed me, I know he did that because I remember I wanted him to. Then I just don't know. I remember thinking things and talking, but I don't know which things I was saying and which I was just thinking."
Ruby muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'Ella owes me four coppers' but Belle didn't ask her to repeat herself, instead deciding she much preferred not to know.
"Well," Ruby finally said after a long silence, "what might you have told him?"
"I might have told him I loved him."
Ruby's hand stilled in Belle's hair, just for a moment but long enough to tell Belle that Ruby hadn't expected this.
"And do you love him?" came the reply.
"I don't know," Belle admitted. "I've never really loved a man before, I'm not entirely sure what it's supposed to feel like."
"Oh honey," Ruby said, setting down her comb and beginning to braid Belle's hair, "you'll know it when you feel it. There's nothing anyone can tell you that will make it any more clear than that, trust me."
Belle distracted herself by sipping on her cup of tea as Ruby finished her hair in silence. Her thoughts were running too fast to keep up, it took all her focus just to keep them in some sort of order. Her quiet contemplation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Ella entered and gave Belle a quick pitying look before speaking.
"Beg your pardon, Miss, but the doctor sent me to fetch you," her eyes slid nervously between Ruby and Belle, "you have...visitors."
Oh gods, she could not handle this right now. She suddenly felt very tired again, she was still unsure about the situation with Dr. Gold and now to have to face whatever her jilted fiance wanted to throw at her just felt like more than she could bear. Still, though, she couldn't very well hide up here forever and force him to fight her battles for her. With a weary sigh, she climbed out of bed and prepared to face the rest of the day.
Gold turned as he heard the door to the parlour open, thankfully admitting Miss French and not more of her blasted family members. He was currently playing host to both her jilted fiance and her father, as well as their solicitor, a Mr. Sydney Glass, and Dr. Archibald Hopper whose presence had not yet been fully explained to him. Graham had, of course, immediately been sent to fetch Jefferson just to round out this festival of fools. Nobody spoke, instead they stared each other down. The only one seeming uncomfortable with this arrangement was Dr. Hopper, who squirmed uncomfortably whenever anyone's eyes came to rest on him.
At Belle's arrival, however, the assembled rose to greet her. He felt a swell of pride when her eyes immediately fixed on him, a smile of genuine pleasure settling across her features. She could love him, he reminded himself. They just had to get through this, and well, he'd figure that out later. But he had no intention of letting her go.
Belle made to walk toward him, but was interrupted by her father drawing her attention towards him.
"Belle!" Lord Maurice gasped, rushing over towards his daughter excitedly.
"Papa?" Belle sounded somewhere between pleased and terrified, her eyes going wide as he swept her into a tight hug. She stiffened, but relaxed a bit and wrapped her arms around her father, letting him hold her for a bit.
"Papa, why are you here?" she said once he had released her and everyone else had returned to their seats.
"I'm here to take you home, my girl," Lord Maurice replied, still holding Belle's arms affectionately.
"That's not going to happen," she stated simply, pulling away from him and moving towards the divan that Gold was seated on slowly, as though afraid any sudden movements would cause him to realize she was fleeing. "I'm happy here, Papa. I don't want to leave."
"Don't be ridiculous," he said, clearly not entirely sure his daughter could have decided on a course of action without him.
"It's not ridiculous," she was being far more patient than Gold thought he could have mustered in her situation as she sank into the seat next to him carefully. "I chose to come here, I'm choosing to stay."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Lord Maurice replied, slightly less petulantly than Gold would have imagined, and sat in his formerly abandoned armchair facing the two. "Belle, darling, I'm just trying to do what's best for you."
Belle's jaw dropped, and he saw her trying to work out a response but she seemed a bit too flabbergasted to make any kind of response.
"I'm fairly sure," Gold interjected, "that Miss French is more than capable of deciding her own fate without either of our interference."
Maurice sputtered a bit, but Belle's entire posture seemed to relax, and she looked at him like she had the day he caught her when she fell – as though he were the answer to a prayer she'd barely dared to say.
Fortunately, whatever other indignity Maurice felt like heaping on his daughter was cut off by the well-timed entrance of Jefferson who tipped his hat to the assembled.
"Sorry I'm late," he said with a forced smile. "My invitation to the party seems to have been lost in the mail."
"Ah, Mr. Jefferson." Sydney Glass seemed less than thrilled at this new arrival, which pleased Gold to no end. "At last we can begin."
"Yes," Jefferson replied, taking a seat in a chair near to Gold and Belle. "Now would you like to inform me of the purpose of this meeting? And why the good doctor is here?"
"My client is concerned for the welfare of his daughter," Mr. Glass said with a calculating smile. "She's been captive in this house for months now. There's no telling what tragedies may have befallen her."
Belle's shocked gasp was the only thing that prevented Gold from actually punching the other man. He was struggling to keep his temper down, but it was increasingly more difficult the more he learned of her father.
"I can assure you," Jefferson began, his voice completely calm (which was more than anyone else in the room probably could have managed, and for that Gold was grateful), "that Miss French has been treated with the utmost consideration during her work with Dr. Gold."
"I wish that were good enough," Maurice said, "but Belle, gods only know what's been going on..."
"What my client means to say," Mr. Glass interrupted, "is that we heard rumors of some very disturbing behavior witnessed between the two."
"Such as?" Gold let his voice become low and dangerous, if they were going to sit here and impugn his honor and Belle's virtue, he was not going to sit idly by and let it happen.
"There were some insinuations of inappropriate behavior last night, for example," Mr. Glass said simply. "We have witnesses."
Gold had no response to that, because it was true. They had blurred the lines of respectability to the point that it was no longer a question the night before of whether their relationship was improper, it was a question of whether she was completely ruined.
"Regardless," he finally bit out. "I can assure you that your daughter is hale and healthy."
Belle probably would have had something to add to the discussion, were she not busily preparing herself a cup of tea and looking like she would die of embarrassment given half a chance.
"We just need to know for sure," Maurice continued. "That's why we brought Dr. Hopper. Tell him, Sydney."
"What Lord Maurice means," Mr. Glass continued, "is that we just ask that the young lady submit to an examination. To determine if anything...improper has happened."
"Improper?!" Gold leapt to his feet and stalked around the divan, pacing to relieve some of his agitation before he exploded. "To determine if she's intact is what you mean."
Now it was Maurice's turn to look affronted and sputter.
"There's a lady present!" This was Gaston, the young fool. Gold wondered how much of this was his idea or if he was just going along with suggestions. How could he want someone who clearly didn't want him? Or was it just about her money and position in society?
"A lady whom you are insinuating is of loose moral character," Gold reminded. "You're the ones who are implying it, don't get angry with me for not beating around the bush."
"Perhaps it would be best if we came back another time..." Dr. Hopper looked queasy at the prospect of what he was being asked to do.
"There will not be another time," Belle said, her voice steady. "I am not going to consent to an examination of any kind – most especially that. Papa, how could you?"
"I don't have a choice, my girl," Maurice was near begging now, but Gold felt no sympathy. "You were gone and I've heard such things, and you won't return...what else am I to think?"
"You're to think that I'm a grown woman who can make her own decisions."
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice," Mr. Glass said calmly, "we can come back with a subpoena if we need."
"There won't be a subpoena," Jefferson chuckled. "Good luck getting any judge to agree to an invasion of that magnitude."
"Once they hear what my witnesses have to say, you might be surprised what I can get signed, especially with a lord of the realm making the complaints on behalf of his daughter."
"What witnesses?" Gold wanted to know who he had to skin alive.
"More than a few, and I could get more if I needed them I assure you." Mr. Glass was completely calm to the point that Gold wanted to throttle him. How could he sit here and propose what he was proposing and still be so damned calm?
Belle looked at him, she was so helpless. One of the most intelligent people he'd ever met, and she was completely helpless here – reduced to a pretty bauble for men to fight over and desperate for him to save her. This wasn't right, and he had only one way to save her.
"She won't consent, and she doesn't have to," he ground out slowly, placing his hands on the divan behind Belle protectively. He needed to make sure he chose his next works carefully. "Because I would marry her before I let her be forced into this."
The assembled room went completely silent, with the exception of the sound of Belle's teacup clattering to the floor.
"I'm right, aren't I?" he said, glancing at Jefferson. "If I married her, they would have no grounds to file a lawsuit on her behalf."
"That's right," Jefferson said slowly, "husband trumps father, legally. They would be attempting to separate a man from his lawful wife, no judge in the world would go along with it."
"So there you have it," Gold said, straightening and fixing Maurice with a long hard glare. "This insanity continues only as long as she wants it to, because if she says the word we can bring the whole thing to an end."
"Belle..." Maurice had gone deathly pale, as though contemplating for the first time that his daughter might have options and allies beyond him. "Belle, what would your mother think?"
"I think it's time for you to leave, Papa," Belle said solemnly. "I am quite out of energy for dealing with you today."
They sat like that for an awkwardly long moment, before Mr. Glass regained his thoughts.
"I can see we're just about done here," he fixed Gold with a long stare, "for now."
Gathering up his clients and his physician, the assembled made their way out of the parlour. As soon as the door closed behind them, Gold slumped into one of the armchairs.
"Brilliant move with the marriage proposal," Jefferson congratulated, "I couldn't have planned it better myself. I doubt they'll try anything this desperate again."
"I'm just sorry they tried it this time." Gold glanced over at Belle who was being uncharacteristically silent and staring fairly hard at her teacup. "Are you alright, my dear?"
"I...it's...it's chipped," she sounded near tears. "I'm sorry. I chipped it."
"I'll be on my way, then," Jefferson said, leaping to his feet. "I do have other clients, and you two clearly have a lot to discuss. Do let me know if they return."
And he was out the door before either could say a word to him, leaving them alone.
"Belle," Gold began, moving back to the divan he had just vacated and plucking the teacup from her hands, "it's just a cup. It'll be alright."
Sure enough, the once-pristine cup was now scarred with a large rectangular chip taken out of the lip.
"Are you alright?" He was becoming worried, this wasn't like her. She wasn't prone to hysterics and she would barely speak to him. He set the cup on the table and tilted her head up. Tears were very visibly running down her cheeks, and the red rimming her eyes just made them look even more blue. "Oh Belle, it will be fine."
He wrapped his arms around her, hauling her to him and letting her cry onto his shoulder again.
"I know," she said, her voice steadier than he would have thought. "I know you won't let them take me. It's just...how could he do that to me?"
"I don't know," it wasn't good enough, "I really don't."
"I'm his daughter, and he basically called me a whore. He tried to overrule my every decision, he implied I didn't know my own mind." She sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "You're the only one who stood up for me," she was looking at him like that again and he couldn't quite reconcile the awe he saw in her face with the reality of him. "You said you'd marry me so they'd leave me alone."
"Yes, about that." That was one of the many fantasies he never intended to let her know about, "I'm...not proposing or anything, Belle. You have to understand that. It was the only way to make them leave, I'd not impose on you that way."
"I know," her voice was becoming stronger as she spoke, full of anger and indignation. "I know you wouldn't. But everyone else would. How can they pretend like I don't know what I want or where I want to be? Or who I want to be with? My own father..." her voice trailed off, the word 'father' uttered like a curse.
Gold had no answer for her, and wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that she hadn't taken it as a proposal. He hadn't meant it as one, but if she'd taken it, well, at least that would have let him know where he stood with her.
"This is going to be a miserable case, isn't it?"
"I don't know," he said honestly, "I can't imagine it will be pleasant for you, especially after last night. And they're clearly willing to fight dirty.
"You know," she was calmer now, "I barely even remember last night."
He tried to keep the disappointment off of his face, but it was a bit of a blow to be forgotten even though he had known it was a possibility.
"But what I do remember," she continued, "is that even then you never pushed me for anything. You've never done that, never imposed yourself." He wasn't sure he liked where this conversation was going, but he had no escape. "Why is that?"
"What do you mean?" he hedged.
"Everyone else has. Every other man I've ever spent any amount of time with always wanted something from me." Oh, gods, he couldn't answer this, "why don't you?"
"Belle," he was desperate for her to understand him, because he wasn't sure he could explain, "I know you're alone here. I don't want to trap you, you understand? If anything were between us...it needs to be because you want it to, not because you have no other choice. That's what I want. Do you see?"
She tilted her head to the side and studied him, gods he hated when she did that. It made him feel exposed and vulnerable, like she could see straight into him.
"I think I need to take the day off," she said finally. "I have some business to attend to in town, and I don't think I can put it off any longer. I'll be back before dinner, though. I promise."
He said nothing right away, merely nodded. Gods, let her have understood him. Let this not be the beginning of the end.
"Tell Graham to take you in the carriage, and take August with you." She looked like she might protest as she rose to leave, so he continued, "I know you probably don't want the company, but honestly I don't think it's safe for you to leave by yourself."
She considered this, and then nodded her assent, slipping out the door and hopefully not out of his life.
Gods, please let her have understood.