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Nope, I don't own the song...The Dixie Chicks own it. I don't own the characters, Hugo does.
Summary: Fleur grills jehan. Fleur finds out something about Claude. Esme runs into Phoebus. Isabeau gives Esme some advice.
Preview: Phoebus lets Claude know what he knows. Isabeau and Phoebus have a run in. Fleur confronts Phoebus.
As always reviews rock, flames don't.
It had been a few days, but Fleur-De-Lys still couldn't get over what Phoebus had said.
"I bought it for Esmeralda."
Those words stuck in her head, haunting her. What did that little slut have to do with Agnes?
Then, it struck her. They both have dark hair, both of them have dark eyes, they stand at about the same height. It could not be. And, yet it all made perfect sense. And her fiancé looked oddly familiar. She had seen him somewhere before as well, but he mattered little in figuring out what Agnes had to do with that gypsy.
That afternoon, she invited a friend of Phoebus' over to chat.
"You have known my fiancé for quite some time, perhaps you have some insight as to why he has taken such an interest in this Agnes girl."
Her gust nodded.
"And what exactly am I supposed to tell you miss?"
Jehan had met her on a few occasions, but only in passing.
"Anything. Let's start with something easy. How long has he known Agnes?"
Jehan knew better than to tell this woman the truth.
"He has known her since the engagement party. He started talking about her just after the party."
Fleur-De-Lys nodded politely.
"It sounds strange, but I know that I have seen her before."
Fleur-de-Lys mused, hoping that Jehan would fill in the blanks.
Jehan felt himself breaking out into a cold sweat.
"She looks vaguely familiar. Does she have any sisters, cousins…relatives who live here in Paris?"
Jehan could see where Fleur-De-Lys was heading with asking him that question. She knew. He didn't know how she knew, but she knew.
"No. As far as I know, she is an only child. Her only relative is her mother."
Fleur-de-Lys paid close attention to his face. His eyebrows were raised, his lips were turned up in a nervous fashion, he kept rubbing his ear.
"Phoebus said something the other day. He said that he had bought a necklace for Esmeralda. But that can't be! Was she not the witch who escaped from the prison?"
Fleur-De-Lys walked around, behind the arm chair Jehan was sitting in.
"A slip of the tongue perhaps."
Jehan tried to shrug her last question off.
"Isn't it odd how they look very much alike?"
Jehan was squirming.
"Who looks alike?"
"Agnes and Esmeralda. But what I really can't figure out is what Phoebus has to do with the latter. You wouldn't have to know, would you?"
Jehan gulped.
"It was an emerald necklace, correct?"
Fleur-De-Lys nodded in response to the question.
"Then, he may have meant to say that he had bought an emerald necklace. Her was quite drunk and was getting his words mixed up."
She was now standing in front of him.
"Then tell me about this new friend of yours. He is Agnes' fiancé, is he not?"
For such a lovely and small young woman, she seemed to tower over him in this moment.
"He and Agnes are now married. They were in Paris and they eloped."
"He looks like the Archdeacon of Josas. Come to think of it, he too has seemed to have disappeared. It seems everyone in pulling these vanishing acts these days. Was the Archdeacon not your brother?"
Jehan could feel beads of sweat drip from his forehead.
"Yes, he was."
"Then is that to say your brother the Archdeacon and Agnes' husband are one in the same?"
She was clever and he respected her for being so. He was frozen, not knowing what to say.
"It's true, isn't it?"
His silence had confirmed that fact.
"Thank you, you may go."
Fleur-De-Lys now had some weapon against Agnes.
Phoebus had sent the necklace and a letter to Agnes. She had burned the letter, but was unsure of what to do with the necklace. It was far too pretty and valuable to throw away, but keeping it meant that she accepted him. She despised him. He was trying to come between her and Claude.
It had taken her a few days to finally decide what to do with it. She and Claude had decided to live in Paris. They had purchased a lovely home, near Jehan and Isabeau. They had decided that they needed their privacy away from Gudule. They were newly married and Esmeralda had been talking about wanting a child. She first thought about giving the necklace to Isabeau. But, the captain might see Isabeau wearing the necklace and arrest her for stealing it from her. She decided to put the necklace away and save it for when she had a daughter. She purchased a pretty jewelry box with an exquisite stained glass window decoration.
She would not accept any gifts from men who were not her husband. She felt wrong doing so.
Esmeralda decided to learn how to sew. The house was boring during the day, while Claude was tutoring students. Gringoire had become his assistant and Djali went wherever Gringoire went.
She had read most of the books Claude had given her, so she needed something new to keep her interest.
"It would appear that you are now following me."
A familiar voice said from behind her. She turned to see if it was who she suspected.
"Hell Agnes."
The captain had watched her coming out of her house. He had watched her walk through the market place and enter a shop. He had watched her exit that shop with a basket full of fabric and thread.
"Good day captain."
She felt that being cold with him would get him to leave her alone faster.
"I see you are not wearing my gift."
She did not see why she should be wearing it.
"And why should I accept any gifts from you?"
She turned away, not wanting to cause a scene out in public.
"You remind me of someone you know."
He called after her and she turned to face him.
"Really, who?"
She was ready to face this.
"You remind me of a little gypsy girl I once knew. You are just as stubborn as she was, you look very much like her. You are quite sweet Agnes."
He stepped closer, closing the gap. His lips were almost touching hers.
She looked into his eyes, steadily, trying to not show her fear.
"And who would ever suspect you to be a gypsy girl?"
He chuckled, pulling away and marveling at how nervous she seemed.
"Do I make you nervous?"
He whispered into her ear.
"No."
He could see in her eyes that her real answer was "yes."
"Why?"
He asked, looking deep into her eyes.
"I know the kind of man you are."
She turned away from him, leaving him with only questions.
He stood there wondering what might have happened if he had called her "Esmeralda." Finding out would have to wait for another day.
Esmeralda had been close to Jehan and Isabeau's house. Isabeau had been watching what was going on out in the streets. She had seen the captain talking to her friend.
"Agnes."
Isabeau stepped outside to invite her in.
Esmeralda approached, entering the house.
"What did that man say to you?"
Esmeralda did not understand why isabeau needed to know that information. Perhaps Claude had told her too keep an eye on her.
"He wanted to know why I wasn't wearing the necklace he sent me."
"Is that all?"
Isabeau knew from experience that with the captain, that was never all.
"He said I reminded him of someone."
Isabeau nodded.
"Who did he say you reminded him of?"
"A gypsy girl."
Esmeralda smiled and gave a laugh. She wondered if that was why he was constantly around.
Isabeau knew about Phoebus. She knew that Esmeralda had been framed for attempting to kill him. She wished that Esmeralda had succeeded.
"Do you know why he keeps sending you gifts and following you?"
"Yes. He's jealous of Claude."
Esmeralda seemed so naively sure of herself.
"No. He wants you, because he can't have you. Take my advice. Men like the captain have a difficult time with the word, 'no.'"
Esmeralda wondered how Isabeau was so sure about the captain.
"Isabeau, how do you know Phoebus?"
Isabeau became nervous and began backing away.
"He was a customer."
She said quietly.
Esmeralda understood and did not feel the need to know anymore. She knew that Isabeau hated talking about her former life.
"She can wear a pretty dress, she can clean herself up; but she is still nothing."
Phoebus stood before his fiancée.
"Don't you think for one second that I don't see through her act."
Phoebus did not feel like a confrontation today.
"And what act is that?"
He asked, part of him wanted to know what she knew.
"She is that girl."
Phoebus did not feel the need to ask what girl she was talking about.
"She's done something to you. She won't leave you be. I remember seeing her at our doorstep."
It was clear that she was not talking about Agnes. She wasn't talking about Esmeralda. There was a distant memory playing out in her head, one that Phoebus denied at every turn.