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OW25

Alex and Lisette decided to eat lunch with Ruby, who still captivated my son's heart with the slightest of smiles. Their absence allowed Julia and me a moment alone—one which would have found better uses had the Comte not arrived on the doorstep.

"I think we should invite him for dessert," Julia said as she set a cup of coffee on the dining room table.

I stood in the doorway and watched her work. Her domestic duties captivated me for reasons I couldn't explain, but I enjoyed watching her slice bread and tie her apron. It felt intimate to watch her, as though at last I fit into her life.

She tapped me on the chest as she passed me in the doorway. "Well?"

"I think that sounds like a waste of dessert," I grumbled.

She glanced back and smiled. I knew by her expression that she was up to absolutely no good. "For every scone I feed him you shall have two, even if I have to sneak it under the table or smuggle it under my skirt."

I lifted a brow and she shook her head at me.

"Behave yourself, Monsieur."

"Hide anything under your skirt and you lose the right to ask me to behave myself."

She laughed out loud and carried a tray of onion soup and bread into the dining room.

"When did Archie become a minister?" I asked.

"I have no idea," she said with a shrug. "Would you rather have Charles perform the ceremony?"

"You decide."

She paused and tilted her head to the side. "A brilliant answer." She smiled and grasped my hand. "I will ask Archie to play the violin for us and have Charles perform the ceremony. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Yes, that's fine," I answered.

While we enjoyed our lunch together Julia made an oral list of everything we needed to have prepared for the wedding, which she told me to remember. She seemed delighted that in a mere five days we had our plans set. Most of what she mentioned, however, I had not heard of until she gave me a detailed account. The flowers for her bouquet and for Lisette's, who was the flower girl, were ordered and scheduled to arrive at noon, which, as I was told, was five hours before the ceremony. Anthony promised to deliver the cake we had sampled to Julia's home in the morning.

"We'll be married here?" I asked.

"Yes. I told you this days ago."

I had no recollection of the conversation. "Ah, of course," I answered.

"Ruby is preparing the dinner," she informed me. "I believe it's settled." She cleared the table and asked if I would be more comfortable in the parlor. The most comfortable location would be the bedroom but I suspected Lisette and Alex would return at any moment.

"I have work I must do," I replied.

Julia frowned. "I thought all of your compositions were completed."

"I have one more."

She nodded as though my work was so exhausting that it deserved sympathy.

"Don't be late for dinner," she warned as she walked me to the back door.

"This recipient is very strict," I told her. "I'll arrive as soon as possible."

Julia could not resist the urge to straighten my lapels. "I will invite Monsieur de Chagny," she said. She met my eye. "He worries me greatly."

"I know."

"I think I may also invite Archie and Hermine for dessert as well."

"You may as well invite the circus, what with all of the company you're expecting," I said under my breath.

Julia leaned into me. "I'm afraid I'll need to tell Archie that Charles will marry us."

"You expect disappointment?"

"Perhaps. You know he considers me as a sister and you as a good friend."

I didn't say anything. Other than Charles, Archie was the only man I knew whom I could consider a friend. I refrained from speaking ill of him.

"Now, don't forget to ask Charles," Julia said. She practically pushed me out the door as she spouted off all the work she had to finish before dinner.

I returned home to find Meg sitting in the kitchen with the side of her head against the wall. She looked utterly miserable.

"You look utterly miserable," I said.

She nodded. "It's hot in here."

I paused. "Tepid."

"Hot," she argued.

Had I known any better I never would have argued with a woman in her condition.

"It's hotter outside."

"I'm not outside," she said through her teeth.

Madeline walked in to see what the fuss was about and glared at me, as though walking into my owned damned kitchen were a crime.

"Leave her be, Erik," Madeline said. She waved her hands at me, the insolent woman!

"She's complaining about the temperature," I huffed.

Madeline released an exasperated sigh. "I have half the mind to tell you to return to your room," she said as she looked at me.

"Do it," I said sternly.

She rolled her eyes and handed Meg another towel to place on her forehead. A moment later she followed me out of the kitchen.

"She's not feeling well," Madeline said under her breath.

"No?" I asked dryly. I turned and saw the worry etched on Madeline's face. "She's not…in the kitchen, is she?"

"Excuse me?"

I waved my arms about. "Her condition won't…terminate…as she sits there?"

Madeline narrowed her eyes. "Terminate?"

"Is it time?" I asked between my teeth.

That put a smile on her lips. "No, I don't believe it is. She's just very uncomfortable at the moment."

"Then put her to bed."

"She won't listen to me." She sounded aggravated. Madeline's title, which I knew she would carry to her death, was Mother. She took great joy in mothering her daughter and the little girls in the ballet when they had wandered about and found their way up the stairs and to the opera boxes where she worked. There was a similarity there between Madeline and Julia in their ability to care for others. It frustrated them both when their intentions were not needed.

I crossed my arms and stopped at the foot of the stairs. "How long has she sat there?"

"A good hour, perhaps more."

I grunted and Madeline gave up. With a sigh and toss of her hands, she returned to her sewing. As she walked away I heard her sputtering that everyone in the house drove her mad.

-o-

I gathered my blank sheets of paper, along with a wooden board on which to write and a pen, then returned downstairs. Madeline and Ruby were chatting in the parlor and I could hear Alex inside the library for his afternoon lessons with Charles. Lisette was also sitting in, as I heard her shout out an answer.

When I reached the kitchen I discovered Meg still sitting at the table with her eyes glazed over and her cheeks bright red.

"Can you stand?" I questioned.

She glared at me. "I'm not a downed cow."

I stared at her a moment. "Can you stand?" I growled.

Her gaze instantly lowered. "Yes," she said meekly.

I watched her struggle a moment before I grabbed her by the arm and helped her stand. She winced and said under her breath that her feet and ankles hurt.

"You needn't walk far," I promised her.

She gave me a strange look as I hoisted the kitchen chair and carried it out the back door. Like a frightened little mouse she followed me and stopped on the ramp Alex and I had built. I heard her breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of the garden she'd been unable to tend.

With the afternoon sun at the front of the house, the back porch was cool and breezy. I sat on the stairs and placed a rock over my blank sheets of paper.

"May I ask what you're writing?" Meg asked, the nosy woman.

"A composition for Julia," I answered.

"How lovely," she answered.

Her mood had changed suddenly. The snapping turtle I'd met as I walked through the back door was now a sweet dove perched on the porch.

"Indeed," I said under my breath as I sat with my pen poised.

"A swing would be just wonderful out here," Meg said with a longing sigh. "Don't you think?"

"Yes," I glanced over my shoulder and saw her give a little smile.

"Do you need silence to work?"

"Yes."

She didn't say another word for at least five minutes, but by then the sound of the wind in the trees and the chatter of unseen birds provided inspiration and I knew what I wanted to tell Julia. An hour later I had finished my composition for Julia, partially on paper and partially in my thoughts. When I turned to face Meg she was smiling wistfully as she watched the clouds.

"You must build Julia a swing for her and the baby," she said.