Hello again everybody! As I promised, this is out pretty quickly. I just had my first full week back to school, and I'm pretty exhausted, so you are LUCKY to get it out before next weekend. :D

Also, there's a line in here from my favorite comedian, Eddie Izzard. I didn't plan it that way, it just happened to do with what I was writing.

Enjoy!

Chapter 10

"So, what are you out here to get?" Christian is quite the gentleman, showing me the shops that we pass, holding my arm formally on his elbow. It feels so natural, with my arm in his, and I wonder what we look like: a handsome young man, showing around a visiting maid. I wonder if we look well together.

"I need some meat, produce, and bread," I say, thinking back to my made-up list. I'm still amazed that my disguise is working, but when I look over to Christian he has no former recollection in his eyes.

"I can show you those." He smiles, directing me into the shop in front of us.

I look up as we come through the door, and nearly faint in horror. Hanging from the ceiling are dozens of corpses of animals: cows, rabbits, pigs, chickens, deer, most of them undistinguishable. Through a door behind the counter I can see even more animals, salted and ready to be cut. I'm immediately thankful that I hadn't eaten anything before I left, because I most surely would have thrown it up.

I turn to Christian, who's smiling down at me. "So what type do you need? You must be used to meat, since you work in the kitchens and all." Were his eyes laughing? No, when I look again he's completely serious, and I compose myself. I need to stay in character.

"Of course. A duck was what was asked for." I try to put on a strong face, thinking of one of the meals that I had made with Teresa. I had never dealt with the meat before…

"I'll get that for you." He walks over to what I thought was a chicken, calling over the butcher as he did. Soon I was paying, and the duck was in a neat paper bag tucked in my basket.

"What's next?" Christian's smiling again, as we walk down the town's streets.

"Fruits and vegetables." I'm inwardly glad that I can work with those. No more disgusting dead animals. I can deal with finding vegetables.

We come to the grocer's, and immediately I'm overwhelmed with the amount of food. In the kitchens at home, we had always had the foods lined out neatly, each section marked and in their own cupboard. I wouldn't say that the arrangements here were messy, but there was just so much. Piles and barrels of every type of raw produce that I can think of are all over the store inviting people to come and take them. I look them all over, wondering how much I can buy with the money on hand.

Walking over to a pile of pears, Christian expertly flips one up to his hand and squeezes it gently with a measured look on his face. What is he doing?

"These pears seem just a half-day over ripe. What do you think, Sophie?" He tosses another over to me which I barely catch as he continues to prod the pear with his fingers.

"Wha…?" I stare at him in utter bafflement. He could tell that from squeezing the pear? Am I supposed to be able to do this as a kitchen maid?

He takes one look at me and bursts out laughing, pointing at me. "You should have seen your face!" I relax at his words, only to tense up in hostility. He was joking?

"What was that, then?" I say angrily, squeezing the pear in my hands. "Your… test… squeezy thing, or whatever it was."

"Dunno," he says, still laughing. "I have no frame of reference. I was just squeezing fruit." He hides a laugh behind his hand, watching for my expression. I'm stunned for a second, and then I inexplicably burst out laughing as well, holding the pear in my hand. It grows stronger, and soon I'm feeling my eyes tear up and my stomach hurts.

"We'd better take them, since we've been poking them," I gasp out, taking a couple more, and head over to the vegetable section, loading up with potatoes. When I walk a ways away from Christian, I'm able to think straight again, and I'm shaken at the way that he was able to get me laughing, how easy it is to be with him…

It's easy to be with Simon, too, I tell myself. Face it, I have an easy life. So why am I being so selfish, wishing for something more…?

But I don't. Just because Christian enjoys being around Sophie does not mean that he loves me. I'm being silly.

We pay for the food, and walk out with a much heavier basket then before. Oh, if only I had a carriage… But I don't mind it as much, with Christian chatting amiably beside me.

At the baker's, he grabs a loaf for himself as well, jingling some coins in his pocket. "Ah, la douce odeur du pain frais. Il est cèleste, non?" He turns to me, smiling, as my mind goes blank. Was that French? I couldn't even make out the words from his perfectly slurred accent.

"It is heavenly, no?" He cracks the bread in half slightly, inhaling the scent of it. I finally understand what he said: he was talking about the smell of the bread!

"Oh… Oui…" I say, remembering one of the only French words that I know. Had I lost my masquerade? Changing the subject and language, I instead ask him a question. "When did you learn French?"

"My mother was French," he says, smiling. "My father is Scottish. He went on a trip to Paris once, to help some relatives move, and he fell in love with my mother in a nightclub. And so he brought her to England and married her."

"O-oh…" I say, looking down. Christian's mother was probably… a prostitute? I tried not to think about the word. He had been nothing but kind to me today and before, it didn't matter who his parents were.

When I look up, I can see Christian watching me closely, and I blush, knowing that he probably saw the horror sweep across my face. How could I be so…. Awful?

"It's okay." He says softly, and I look up into his eyes, almost losing myself in their depths. "I won't blame you for what you think. My mother was a great person; she taught me French, and more things than I could ever imagine. I never thought of her as any different than anyone else."

"Was?" I'm afraid of what will come next, but Christian's face remains passive, waving a hand gently to signal for us to walk.

"She died when I was thirteen. We never found out what she had; one night, she suddenly came down with a fever and cough, and by the morning she was gone." He looks away, and I touch his arm gently with my hand. He turns back to me, shocked at the touch.

"I am so sorry," I murmur softly, really meaning it. Christian is such a bright light in life, always cheerful. Why was he faced with his mother's death?

"It is alright, it happened long ago." We had reached the baker's counter, and he placed his bread and mine where the baker could see them. When I tried to pay for them, Christian told me to put my money away and paid for them himself, taking his loaf into his pocket.

We walk out of the baker's in comfortable silence, walking through the town together until we get to a grassy area near the back. It is nice and fresh, and we sit down under a tree, Christian splitting his loaf of bread and giving half to me.

Our conversation is light and harmless, talking about out likes and dislikes. I learn that Christian always wanted to be a storyteller, even when his father saved up for him to get a better life. "He's still grumpy about that," he laughs, taking a bite of bread. He swallows, then turns to me, a smile playing across his lips.

"So, Lady Heatherford, when are you going to tell me why you're here?"

End of Chapter 10

Ha ha ha! Christian is NOT as dull as a used crayon, after all. Thank you for reading!