Chapter 14: An Old Friend Returns

"Well done, Bridgette," Monsieur Webster drawled over Bridgette's shoulder as she drew her quill across her parchment. "It seems your writing has much improved. Even your penmanship."

"Thank you, Monsieur Webster. I have been practicing."

It was true. She had been practicing. Bridgette had inherited her mother's love of reading. However, it was not until she had pushed herself to improve her writing that she actually found she had a knack for it.

"Gigi, you have misspelled "silhouette" again," Webster prodded as he looked over Gigi's paper. "Please pay more attention."

"Sorry," Gigi replied unapologetically.

Gigi was not a stupid girl. She just happened to not be of the studious sort either. She was much more interested in her music . . . And boys. This change seemed to hit when she was around twelve. Now, at sixteen, she found members of the opposite sex to be rather interesting- and distracting. Still, she remained respectful as possible to her tutor.

"Well done, Babette!" Webster said. "Too bad what you have written sounds suspiciously similar to what Master Tyrone has written. Does this happen to have anything to do with the fact that he is sitting right next to you, or do you just happen to think this similarly?"

Babette and Tyrone smirked sideways at each other.

"Am I going to have to move you again, Master Tyrone?" Monsieur Webster asked.

"No, Sir," Tyrone replied quickly.

"Well, then," Webster said. "I suppose I will just have to ask Mademoiselle Chevalier to move to the other side of the table."

Webster stared down at his fellow commoner for a few moments. She looked up at him, hoping he would crack and say that he was only jesting. When he didn't, Babette sighed; shot Tyrone a momentary look of annoyance; picked up her pen, parchment, and hornbook; and stomped to the other side of the table, plopping down grudgingly in the seat directly across from Tyrone.

She had begun attending lessons when Adele began taking lessons. It was under the insistence of Belle and later Adam that she be allowed to take lessons from Monsieur Webster. Fifi and Lumeire were mighty glad for their daughter to have the opportunity to become learned. Monsieur Webster was more than happy to take Babette under his wing. However, after Tyrone joined lessons, Webster could not help but notice the ever-strengthening camaraderie taking place between Tyrone and Babette. At first it seemed quite harmless, amounting to nothing more than making faces during lessons. But now that they were older, Babette seventeen and Tyrone fifteen, they seemed like two grapes of the same bunch. They always seemed to be together. They had been friends for a long time, and Babette had become quite comfortable with that fact. Tyrone, on the other hand, was not so sure about how he felt about Babette. He had been comfortable with her being his friend in the past, but for some reason as of late, his stress level seemed to increase every time she was around. He did not want her to stay away from him, but he always dreaded meeting her unexpectedly in the corridors.

"Mistress Adele," Webster called. "Mistress Adele. Adele de Beaumont!"

"Hmmm?"

Adele turned her face, crossing a spin of color as she looked from the window to the face of her tutor.

"Mistress Adele, I am rather disappointed in you. You have been sitting here for nearly half an hour, and you have not written but maybe ten words. I know you are capable of much more than this."

Adele yawned into her hand.

"My apologies, Monsieur Webster," she replied. "But I just don't feel inspired today."

"Inspired or not, practice makes perfect. No more peering out the window."

Adele looked down at her paper. Blank. Just like her ever-longing mind. She was quite a bright young woman. Still, her thoughts always seemed to be moving so fast that she never had time to hang onto one single subject. She wanted adventure, but she had no means. Her father had become obsessively protective of her, especially since the incident with the village boys. She wanted love, but knew not where to find it. Since the incident that incurred the vigilance of her father, nobody saw her in the same light. Her siblings and Babette still cared much for her. In fact, they all worried more for her than ever. However, word in the village had spread rapidly, and everyone thought of her as some sort of monster. Her mother had attempted to take her to the village many times. She felt that Adele needed a change in atmosphere, although she was among the people who loved her at home. Instead, Adele became quite withdrawn. She began spending much of her time in her room and enjoyed horseback riding by night. Her father, having become her most adamant protector, had also become her greatest confidante. She told him things she felt uncomfortable telling her mother. Belle, being the understanding soul she was, did not take this as a chance to retain jealousy. She had always sensed similarities between her husband and eldest daughter. Even looks. The golden auburn hair. The deep blue, love-dipped eyes. Their closeness was one of the many things that made Belle admire them both all the more.

"Children," Mrs. Potts said, peering in through the library door. "Lunch is ready."

Webster nodded. "I suppose that will be all for the day. We will pick up our compositions tomorrow."

But it was too late. The children were already getting out of their seats and heading toward the door, that is, except for Adele, who had caught a glimpse of strange movement out of the corner of her eye and turned back to look down through the window. A carriage. A familiar face peeking out.

"Sister," Gigi's voice beckoned from back at the door. "Are you coming?"

Adele turned her face away from the window to look at her sister.

"Um, yes," Adele replied. "You go on ahead. I will be in the dining room in a few minutes."

She burst forth through the front doors of the castle. She had not lied when she said she was going to the dining room, but had not been telling the truth either. She did not know what she was doing. All she knew was that her legs were moving and she was running towards him.

She ran around the corner and along the hedges. She passed the fountain and sped through the moist grasses. The fragrance of the flowers followed her every step as she neared the stable. That's when she saw him.

"CHIP!" she cried as she fell into his arms, embracing him with her own. "You've returned!"

He looked down at his apprehender, startled. Who was this young woman and why was she so happy to see him? That's when he realized the true breadth of his absence.

"Adele, is it you?" he asked, pressing her a step back so that he could look her over.

He couldn't believe it. In his hands he was holding a porcelain doll. He thought she may burst into a million pieces under the pressure of his masculine hands. Her skin so fair and flawless, and her eyes glistened blue like glazed china. The hair of spun gold and copper. The nose so pert and proud.

She looked up at him, then realizing how strange it was that she had been able to recognize him. She could not place it, but his face looked somehow different. His eyes seemed much smaller, and his chin much broader. His shoulders seemed bolder. She looked down at the hands holding her arms. They were much larger and rougher. The strength with which they held her seemed impossible.

"Yes, Chip, it is me," Adele finally replied. "I have missed you so much. I have always been waiting for you to return, but I began to wonder if you ever would."

Chip chuckled.

"I began to wonder the same thing myself," he said. "I was in England for nearly fifteen years."

"Why did you stay away for so long?"

"Well, I did not want to go at first, but after a few months there, I began to like it-a lot. I enjoyed helping my uncle in his shop. He was a carpenter, and I took over his shop after he died, but due to lack of sufficient funds, I decided to come back here."

"I am so sorry to hear about your uncle," Adele said, looking up at Chip with sincere apology.

"It's alright," Chip sighed. "There is nothing that could have been done."

There was a silence as the two realized they had nothing more to say at the moment.

"Umm," Adele finally said. "You must be hungry since you've traveled so far."

"No," Chip replied. "I am actually starving."

"Well, come on! Lunch is ready!"

Adele grasped him at the wrist and led him through the garden and back to the castle. Chip followed, stricken with surprise by the strength with which he was gripped in her tiny hand. In fact, Adele had surprised herself. She had not shown this much spirit with any person for many a year.

"Adele, you've finally come down for lunch!" Gigi cried when she saw her sister entering the dining room.

"Yes," she replied. "And I have some great news!"

"What is it? Did Marmalade have kittens again?"

"No, It's-"

"CHIP!" Mrs. Potts shouted so loudly that it nearly came out as a scream. "OH, MY DEAR SON!"

The napkins she had been holding fell out of her hands and billowed as they fell to the floor. She absent-mindedly pushed past Adele and threw her arms around the young man who had just appeared behind her. Tears of warm joy streamed down Mrs. Potts's plump cheeks and seeped into Chip's coat collar. It seemed like hours passed before she stood back to look up at her son. Her heart thudded so exuberantly that it nearly broke the cords holding it into place.

"Oh, my son! I did not know you were coming back home. Why didn't you write?"

"I-I wanted it to be a surprise."

"And what a wonderful surprise it is!"

Mrs. Potts threw her arms around her son a second time, realizing, for the first time, just how tall he had become.

"Father, may Chip join us at the table?" Adele asked her father, who was already sitting at the close end of the table.

"Of course," he said, looking back at her with a smile. "I am sure he is hungry from his long trip."

He and Chip shared a friendly nod, though Chip was shocked and nearly horrified to see gray hairs upon the temples of his master's head. However, his mind was put at ease as he took a seat. That was when he caught a glance at Belle. Beautiful Belle. She had hardly changed at all since the last time he saw her. Perhaps she had become even lovelier.

"We are so glad to have you back, Chip," she said in that sweet, warm voice of hers as he scooted in his seat.

"I am happy to be back," he replied.

He looked around the table at the noble family. They were all there. There was actually one more, as Tyrone had grown and had taken a seat at the table. But, wait, there was also one missing . . .

"Where is Maurice?"

After he had said it, he wished he had not. All the solemn faces looked down at the food on their plates with an appearance that was devoid of desire.

"Grandpapa passed away just a little over two years ago," Bridgette replied, sounding as though her throat was partially constricted.

"We just found him dead in his bed one morning. I suppose that is the best way to go," Tyrone said, adding the last part to lighten the suddenly darkened mood.

"That's true," Belle said in agreement. "The best way to go is in your sleep. I am so glad my papa did not have to suffer. I always feared he would. I know he went happy because he had a smile on his face. And I am sure he is happy now, as he has been reunited with my mother."

"I'm sorry," Chip said. "I suppose I missed a lot when I was gone."

"Do not worry about that," Adele said, taking the seat at his left. "That just means that we will have a lot to talk about."

Chip looked up at Adele who was beaming brightly at him. In return, he forced a smile in her direction.