Chapter 21- Odd Familiarity
…
"So what time does this party for the Prince start?" Jean asked Luc rather impertinently. Jean was feeling the effects of sleep deprivation after nights of trying to keep Clémence comfortable in her carriage seat. She was still feeling under the weather. Jean hoped to find an inn at the next town to get her to a bed.
Luc shrugged."I don't know. All I know is that his party's the twenty-seventh of June, and well...that's today," he admitted. "We left home four days ago."
"Are we late?" Emilie asked in concern. "I hope it isn't considered rude to arrive late. It could be disrespectful of Prince Adam and his wife."
"If the Prince here is offended, cherie, he'll only be cross at His Honor and Their Ladyships," said Luc breezily. "We're only his retinue. We had nothing to do with the time we left the estate. His Honor directed me to tell these men to pick us up at nine in the morning." Luc gestured upward with his thumb. "Which they did. No worries for me." Luc smiled serenely at his fiancee. "When will you be changing into your best dress? It's yellow and white, correct?"
"Yes. I hope to change when we settle for a bit at the nearby village," said Emilie, feeling a bubble of excitement mixed with nervousness. Later this day she would be entering a grand, royal ball wearing her best- though inexpensive- new dress. Madame Chambon helped her sew it the week before, choosing the colors with the thought of a future wedding gown in mind.
She looked across to her married friend, who was looking pale and tired around the eyes. "Clémence, are you going to rent a room at an inn, if you feel sick?" Emilie asked her.
"I feel a little better-" Clémence began, but Jean interrupted her with a decisive arm around her shoulders.
"Yes, we are," he insisted. "You're looking peaked, cherie. I don't care about spending more money. In fact, we'll rent two or three rooms. I don't know what Adelaide wants to do, though. She's been riding up front with our coachman for the last three hours, so I haven't been able to ask her."
"Oh, let her," said Emilie with a gentle smile. "Addie feels like the odd spinster out with the four of us. She's happier talking to him. I feel a little bad, though, because I'm sure her crush is unrequited. Both of the coachmen are nice gentlemen, but they're focused on their jobs and she shouldn't expect any flirtations."
"It would be vulgar of them to do so anyway," said Jean.
"True," said Luc. "I used to drive cab carriages in Paris. Talking to the lady passengers was something that just wasn't done. Of course, I disobeyed that rule myself a few times," he added with a smirk.
"Luc," said Emilie, a quiet reminder that she didn't like hearing about his errant past.
He grasped her hand and held it in reassurance, stroking the ring on her finger. "In fact, what Marcel's doing by being chummy with Addie could be a factor in our being late," he opined. "We wasted ten minutes out of Colmar, with him helping her catch that cat," he added in a slight tone of irritation.
"Now that we're running late, they'll be feeling bad. Luc, don't reprimand them. It isn't their fault," said Emilie.
"I won't," he assured her. "They did their jobs well, they safely got us through the mountain passes. Say-" Luc pulled the black velvet curtain on the window- "we're entering a village now."
"This must be Villeneuve," said Clémence. "Honey, do you think Marcel and Alexis will stop here?"
"I sure hope so," said Jean. "Looks like a nice town, a lot of busy people. I'm craving some fresh fruit."
Luc glanced out of the window in curiosity. They were passing along a cobblestone street, filled with quaint buildings and shops similar to those in Colmar, but smaller. People went about their provincial lives, buying things at markets. For some reason, the 'Argent' sign of the silversmith's shop looked familiar to him. He must have seen the same sign type in Paris somewhere.
The coach rounded a corner. Luc experienced another bizarre feeling of déjà vu, more intense now than ever. He knew what the next building was going to look like. When it appeared, exactly as he'd imagined a second later, he sucked in a breath of air.
"What in the-"
"What's wrong, honey?" Emilie asked. Luc's heart warmed at her use of 'honey.'
"Why is this town so familiar?" He was to the point of being afraid his bout of insanity was back. That building was the tavern and inn, for sure. The tall clock tower? He'd seen it before.
He somehow knew that if one went up the hillside past the stone arch, one would find a large, rustic house there. And it would be a white house, with two stories and an attic, trimmed with dark accent boards and several roof gables. Luc had sat on top of the roof of that house before. He'd had seen the same clock tower from that roof. He'd dreamed of it.
"Emilie, I think I'm feeling 'crazy' again," he whispered to her with unease. Blinking his eyes, he tried to concentrate on the moment, on reality, on her. He closed the curtain shut and gazed at her sweet face.
"You'll be fine, Luc. You're probably sleep deprived," said Emilie.
"Isn't he stopping here?" Jean asked, his usual patience of a saint slipping. "Clémence, how are you feeling?"
"Better," she insisted, stroking the downy fur of Adelaide's cat. Adelaide had plopped the cat in Clémence's lap earlier, for her to care for while she rode in the driver's seat beside Marcel to 'take in the scenery.'
They passed out of the town almost as quickly as they'd rolled in. Buildings and people gave way to a lush green hillside, which then gave way to a narrow road in a shady forest. The trail was bumpy and made of dried mud marked with the wheels of a smaller carriage, likely Prince Adam's personal cabriolet.
Some fifteen minutes later, the vehicle lurched and stopped. Luc and Emilie looked out their windows only to see endless thickets of evergreen trees.
"What happened? Is a wheel stuck?" Jean asked.
"Feels like it. Jean, let's go out and see what we can do to help," Luc said decisively. He threw open the carriage door and leaped out. "Is there a problem? May I be of assistance?"
Marcel Clement sighed. "I believe we're stuck in the mud. No worries, Monsieur. I can help loosen it. I'll look through my tool set."
While Marcel rummaged in a bag, and Adelaide sat trying to hide her disappointment, Luc spotted the carriage's front wheel. It was sunk nearly halfway deep in thick, mud-clay soil. He grasped hold of it and struggled to loosen it.
"It must've...rained here lately…" he grunted as Jean, then Marcel, joined him to tug on the wheel. Adelaide also hopped down to join the three men, trying to tug the wheel loose. It didn't budge.
"What are we going to do now? It will be evening soon," Jean fretted. "And dark in a few hours."
"Marcel, do you have a shovel? We can dig the wheel out," suggested Adelaide.
"I believe I do," said the driver. "Please, everyone. Let's not panic. There isn't a thing to worry about."
"Except for wild animals, darkness, and possible starvation!" Luc said irritably. "Monsieur, why didn't you stop for a rest in the village?" He leaned toward the man's ear to whisper. "One of the ladies here may be in a delicate condition!"
"I apologize, Monsieur." Marcel tried placate Luc Avenant, whose build and bearing was that of a man he didn't care to cross. "I wanted to save time, since I knew we were running late. I'm afraid I didn't anticipate the weather."
They heard the coach bearing the noble family approach along the same path. When it rounded a curve, Alexis Sauvageon halted his team of four horses. "Is there a problem?"
"We're stuck in the mud!" Luc yelled out. "Be careful!"
Marcel went to rummage in the bag near his driver's seat again, and by some miracle produced a long-handled shovel. Luc immediately snatched the tool from his hand.
"Let me take care of this," he growled, hoisting the shovel and attacking the muddy earth around the wheel with thrusting blows. He looked as if he were stabbing someone with a bayonet, his face ruddy with exertion. The women and Jean stood there, watching him in slight amusement.
"You can do it, Luc," Jean encouraged. "As I've always said, I've never met a stronger man! Do you need help?"
"No!"
While the Sans-Magies were distracted, Marcel rushed up to Alexis at his halted coach. "I didn't want to do anything in plain sight of them," he told his chief officer in a lowered tone.
"Only as a last resort," the other sorcerer directed. "Use the Lightening Charm if the ground is loosened. They shouldn't notice. Just make sure they don't!" he added as a stern command.
"I hope you don't get stuck. It won't look very good for your passengers to be late for this great, royal fête."
"You know me," said Sauvageon with a self-confident laugh. "I have my tricks."
"Bonne chance!" said Marcel. The other coach advanced past the first, continuing along the uphill terrain through the forest. Its wheels were levitated about an inch above ground, unnoticed by the others.
Emilie saw Evangeline waving at them from the window, an expression of concern on her face. She waved back, letting her know they would be all right, that they were taking care of the problem.
"I'm glad they made it past the rough spot," said Jean as he watched Luc continue to tear into the soil with his shovel. "Are you sure you don't want me to help?"
"I'm almost finished!" Luc growled. The thick mud around the wheel had been scraped away; the bottom now mostly unearthed.
"While we're stopped," Emilie suggested to the other two women, "we could powder our noses and change into our good dresses."
"In the middle of the woods?" Adelaide laughed. "That sounds crazy. But fun. I'll fetch all my things and we can redo our hair, too." She scooped Lorette the cat from Clémence's arms and put her in the carriage. "Now you stay here like a good girl!"
The three women wandered through the thick, lush forest; the smell of evergreen in the air. It didn't seem dangerous. It felt almost magical, as if from a fairy tale. A few squirrels scampered up the trees. Filtered sunlight dappled the shrubs and grasses.
"I feel scandalous," said Emilie, taking off her grey travel dress, then donning a corset and new chemise as quickly as she could. Adelaide was lacing her corset tight, gasping air as she tied up the cords. "Adieu, breathing," she quipped, earning a giggle from the other two.
Emilie took her lovely white-and-yellow gown from the garment bag, along with its matching white-eyelet petticoat. She checked the garments for dirt or grass, shook them out, and carefully put them on. The dress felt light and airy as a cloud. It was made of a white cotton fabric with thin yellow stripes, a ruffled flounce along the bottom, and a yellow ruffle along the neckline.
"Emilie, it's gorgeous! You're going to look as pretty as the Princess!" Adelaide exclaimed.
"Thank you," Emilie said, blushing. "I honestly can't agree. She's said to be famous for her beauty."
Clémence put her palm on her waist and frowned. "I can't wear a corset today. My middle feels too tender. I hope the dress still fits."
"You should see a doctor," said Emilie in concern. "I hope you can find out if you're in a 'delicate condition' before you get your hopes up."
"What's it like?" Adelaide blurted out, shaking out her new dress and preparing to drape it over herself.
"What do you mean?" asked Clémence. "You're all putting the cart before the horse. I'm not certain yet."
"Not that. You know-" Adelaide glanced over in the direction of the coach- and the men. "It!"
"Oh, dear sister, for heaven's sake," Emilie breathed in exasperation. Clémence's mouth gaped. Addie wasn't known for discretion sometimes, tending to say whatever she felt.
"Sweetie, that's personal!" the sole married girl replied in a stage whisper. She looked over to where the men were. "It's nothing bad or painful," she admitted. "Nice, really. Jean is...a very loving, affectionate man. He makes me feel like...I'm the most beautiful woman in the world, even though I know I'm not." Her cheeks flushed. "I can't believe I said that!"
The women laughed together, each adjusting their robe de anglaise-style dresses, drawing their arms through the belled sleeves.
"I wish Evangeline were with us right now," said Adelaide. "She'd be keeling over in a faint at the idea of us changing in the forest. Or maybe not, who knows!"
"Addie, your dress is beautiful!" Clémence remarked with admiration. Adelaide's dress was rose-pink with a tiny red floral print, split down the front with an attached ivory petticoat visible. Her figure still wasn't small or dainty, but she managed the proper hourglass thanks to her corset-lacing skills. The colors brought out her natural rosy complexion.
"Thank you!" Adelaide said graciously. "I hope I look okay. I don't mean to be a downer, but both of you have someone...and I'm still looking. I don't mind being single, but it would be nice someday to-" She was cut off by her sister.
"How is it going with Marcel?" Emilie teased again in an uncharacteristically direct manner. Luc was rubbing off on her, it seemed.
Addie cupped her warm cheeks with her palms, shutting her eyes for a moment. She needed to get her crazy, mixed emotions under control.
"We're getting along, but...I'm afraid we might end up just friends. He's so polite and sweet, while I've been acting like a fool. Why do I always ruin my chances with men? I tried to budge the wheel with them, unladylike as usual. And during the ride I babbled on about every silly thing, and he listened. But he didn't want to talk much about his life, other than he wants to see his sister again. I think he's just putting up with me because it's his job." She sighed sadly.
"Oh, Addie, just relax," Emilie said with cheer. "He's just a coachman. Luc was a driver once, too. They aren't supposed to become close with passengers."
"If he ends up just a friend, there will be dozens of other men you will meet tonight, and tomorrow!" Clémence assured. She secured the frog-clasps of her deep blue robe de anglaise, accented with a white petticoat sprigged with blue flowers. The dress accentuated Clémence's tiny waist and brought out her blue eyes. The Fortier sisters guessed that Jean would be very pleased at the sight of his pretty wife tonight.
"Maybe the magic of the royal ball will fall on you and Jean tonight, and bring you lucky baby dust," said Adelaide fondly.
"Oh, Addie! There's no such thing as 'baby dust' or magic," Emilie replied. The three found their combs and hair accessories in their bags, and began fixing each other's hair into fresh updos. Adelaide decided she preferred hers down. She discovered rainwater drops on the tree leaves and sprinkled them over her hair to revive her natural curls.
Emilie had the dreamy thought that they were just like a trio of forest fairies from a storybook. Her dress felt so soft, light and pretty; she couldn't wait for Luc to see her once they came out.
She just hoped he wasn't angry or cross. And that they could get to the ball in the first place. What Luc had said about 'wild animals and starvation' made her nervous.
To her relief, they learned that the coach's wheel was finally freed from the mud. Not only that, but the three men had found the time to change into their best suits. Luc was wearing dark charcoal grey, with silver-colored buttons on his overcoat and a dapper black bow tie.
"Emilie-" His eyes widened as he beheld her.
"Luc, you look wonderful!" she exclaimed, rushing to her beloved, being wrapped in his strong arms for a warm kiss.
"I don't deserve you," he whispered to her for the hundredth time.
"Yes, you do! I love you, you big, crazy fool!" she laughed. "How did you finally get the wheel out?"
"It was odd, Emilie. I started to lift the wheel after I dug it out. It was heavy, but after I lifted for a few more moments, the entire coach felt light as a feather! I know I'm strong, but I'm not that strong, am I?"
"Yes! You are," both Jean and Marcel said in unison. The women had the feeling that this debate had been going on for some time while they were in the forest.
Marcel was dressed the fanciest of the three, in a light beige suit with a white bow tie. He looked so cute and dashing to Adelaide, it almost pained her soul to look at him. She couldn't stop, however, and he returned her shy smile.
"Mademoiselle, are you ready to join me for a view of the greatest castle in the land?"
"Oui, I'm ready," Addie replied as he helped her up to the top seat. Jean and Clémence embraced and kissed. Jean was wearing a deep blue suit; the couple had planned to wear matching colors. Once they were aboard, the coach continued up the forested road.
Only twenty minutes later, the top spire of the castle appeared against the pinkening hue of the summer-night sky. The sun was about to set as they went through the gate and beheld the entire castle in its splendour.
"It's so grand!" Emilie exclaimed. "I imagine a hundred or more people must live here."
"The coachman told me this Prince and Princess have about seventy or eighty servants with them," said Jean. "I wonder if they have any job openings?"
Luc felt uneasy once again. Had he seen this place before as well? In a dream?
…
After parking the horses with the many others and walking up a flight of stone steps, the six latecomers were met by a royal guard at the door.
"Invitation, si vous plait?" the man asked.
"I have it, Monsieur," Luc said, handing out his rolled-up paper. "We were accompanying His Honor the Marquis de Brumagne and his family. We were late due to carriage trouble."
"You must have traveled the old forest path," the guard said kindly. "Most of our guests drove here along the brand new road from the other end of Villeneuve. It was built very quickly. Almost miraculously, I'd add. Enjoy the celebrations, it is almost nine o' clock. People will be mingling until midnight or after. Dinner is over, unfortunately, but desserts are plentiful. His Highness has already received his gifts, but there will be a box on the corner table if you have one for him."
The guard opened the great double doors. Inside, harpsichord and violin music played merrily. Luc, Emilie, and the rest walked on tentative feet, taking it all in. Golden cherubs, curving staircases, and ostentatious Rococo furnishings surrounded them. Candles lined the foyer and led them to a grand ballroom.
People were relaxed and casual, eating, drinking, milling around. Emilie walked beside Luc, her arm in his. She felt like royalty, it was truly like a dream. As they passed the other guests, she tried to meet their eyes with friendly smiles. She noticed that people weren't returning them.
People were scowling at her with coldness. Judgment.
Emilie's heart sank. Were the Prince and his court this offended by them being late? Were they being snubbed just for wandering in at nine in the evening, unforgiving of the carriage and road circumstances?
With each passing moment, more and more eyes fell upon Luc and Emilie. Voices hushed as the musicians kept playing.
Luc, too, was confused at the condemning stares and whispers. Well-dressed partygoers backed away from him as if he were a smelly old beggar with leprosy. He heard a few of the whispers in the crowd.
"Could it be him?"
"It can't be! He's dead!"
"Ask Monsieur Lefou, he will know for sure!"
"I beg your pardon, but-" Luc began to explain in a soft and hoarse voice. He caught sight of the regal-looking young couple approaching him with caution, horrified looks on their faces. The man resembled Prince Louis, he thought for a split second.
His eyes met those of the party's royal hostess. She was a beautiful brunette, dressed in a pale yellow gown made of sweeping organza. Her eyes were a lovely brown. The dream girl.
In an instant, Luc's brain was shot with an onslaught of memories. Visions. Knowledge. Emotions. All rushing into his consciousness so quickly that he stumbled and fell to his knees on the shiny ballroom floor. His eyes stung, his head pounded. He could barely breathe.
His greatest emotion was fear. Fear, mixed in with humiliation and sorrowful, regretful guilt.
"Belle?" Gaston choked out, loud enough for those nearby to hear him.
Gaston, for that was who he was. His alter ego was still within him, but his true self was back.
...