Author's note: Ok… So this was supposed to be one chapter but in the end, I found it was getting two long so I have decided to split this in two parts. I hope that's ok! If things go as planned, the next bit should be up pretty soon, so stay tuned! Either way I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I look forward to hearing what you all think! As ever, thank you very much for all your support – someone mentioned I should make this into a book, so once I have finished it, I might do so (rest assured this is FAR from over hehe). Happy Reading everyone!

Chapter 25

There are times when one is in need of someone to talk to. Often the reasons are somewhat hard to comprehend but in most cases, it originates from the fact that a solution cannot be found. Sometimes it is because one cannot make their mind up and as such must seek the opinion of others which differs from their own. Unfortunately, even in this scenario, a solution is often not found. Nevertheless, this act is known to help with one's peace of mind, which, in Belle's case, was exactly what she sought.

Unfortunately, the young woman's options were limited. Augustine had been in a bad mood, Mrs Potts had been hesitant to hear what she really thought, and for the life of her, Belle could not find Plumette anywhere.

Realizing that she would probably have to sit with her musings for the rest of the day and hope they did not make her go stark stirring mad, Belle made her way slowly up the grand staircase after Mrs Potts left and walked towards the East Wing and the library.

By the time she reached the side gallery, Belle had concluded she was likely to spend the remainder of the day alone, solitary, with only pages of parchment as her company. This usually filled her with joy; she loved nothing more than to be left alone to her own devices but today was different. Today, something had shifted.

Luckily fortune reared its head to be in her favour and as she looked up grimly in order enter the library, she saw Marie standing by the grand oak doors, blocking her path.

"Marie!" exclaimed Belle in surprise, coming to a standstill.

"Oh Belle, I hope everything was ok with Mrs Potts!" replied Marie as she fidgeted with her skirts, her bright blue eyes staring at her in a neurotic fashion. "I was so worried something terrible had happened!"

"Not exactly," replied Belle plainly, her voice ever so slightly retrained as she pushed the doors open and gestured Marie to come inside. "A rather eventful morning, I should say."

"Eventful?" repeated Marie as she followed Belle, her voice hesitant. "I hope you weren't in danger though?"

"In danger?" exclaimed Belle in alarm as she turned around to face Marie. "Why on earth would I be in danger?"

Marie stared back at her in silence before closing her mouth abruptly and looking down at the ground. The library was closed off from the rest of the castle so one could hear a pin drop. It was clear to both women by the way Belle had reacted so defensively that they both knew who they were talking about.

"Have you been listening to rumours Marie?" asked Belle gently as she came up to the petite maid who's mouth began to wobble slightly.

"I didn't know you were aware of them mademoiselle… I don't believe in gossip, surely you must know I would never think ill of you! But we hear such awful whisperings, so after a while one does not know what to think-"

"It's ok Marie, it's ok, I believe you," replied Belle with a reassuring smile as she took hold of her friend's hands.

"It's just that some things have been said and I am scared for you," said Marie as Belle led her towards a couple of ornate chairs sitting by a side table in front of a wall of bookcases. "I worry about your welfare miss, especially after what happened in Paris."

"You refer to the Prince and the ball he attended? And what happened to his mother?"

Belle spoke in a manner which suggested she was not really asking a question.

"Yes," replied Marie hesitantly as she looked carefully over at Belle, as if to try and see whether the librarian was upset with her words or not. "Especially, after what happened with his father and mother. The entire staff had not mentioned it for a long time, but the younger servants heard about the incident for the first time only quite recently after the Prince returned from Paris."

"And do you believe what they say Marie?" asked Belle, keeping her voice as non-judgemental as possible as she sat down and folded her skirt beneath her legs. "Do you believe the rumours about his father and the idea that the Prince purposefully pushed a lady down the stairs during the ball?"

Marie took her time to answer but when she did open her mouth to speak, her reply was short and concise.

"I do as you do mademoiselle, I do not believe in gossip or rumours and I try to keep an open mind. Nevertheless, at such times as these, I cannot help but worry for you. You are always on your own and today when I heard you were in the West Wing-"

The light-haired servant took a momentary pause before collecting herself. Belle felt herself begin to frown slightly. There was much more that Marie wished to say.

"I do not wish to think ill of anyone, not even the Prince," she began, her voice this time resolute and her gaze firm. "My mother often wore a sad expression whenever the Prince was around, especially after the death of his mother. It was almost as if she was guilty about something. Whenever the late Duke was gossiped about she would always defend him, even though everyone despised the man. She had no reason to believe he was not responsible for his wife's death but she never believed the rumours. When she died, she was given a proper burial and funeral by the Duke. For a long time, I thought it was because she had been working at the castle ever since she was my age, but now when I think back on it, I'm not so sure."

Belle blinked as Marie spoke her piece, aware that she could not mask the shock which probably was displayed on her face. With such a quick mind, it did not take the librarian long to guess that Marie's mother was probably the servant Mrs Potts had been referring to. If that were the case, then perhaps she could trust Marie and voice her own true concerns. It was clear however, that Marie did not know the truth. Either Belle's assumptions were wrong or Marie's mother had chosen not to tell her daughter anything about what happened by the grand staircase that night.

"Marie," replied Belle, filing through words in her mind to try and find the right way to explain the truth. Mrs Potts would not have approved of her telling the truth to others, but Belle felt Marie had a right to know.

"When I said I had an eventful day, what I meant to say is I found out about some pretty shocking things. And after what you have just told me, I believe you have a right to know. Now, I might be wrong, and if so, please stop me, but I think I am right."

"I see," replied Marie quizzically, who seemed thoroughly puzzled by Belle's sudden change in demeanour. "I am not quite sure what you mean but as I said, I am open-minded. I am happy that you trust me enough mademoiselle."

Reassured, Belle gave the servant girl a brief thankful smile before relaying to her all which Mrs Potts had told her. At several moments, it seemed Marie wished to speak but then chose not to, waiting until Belle had said all she wished to say.

"I think you are right Belle," she breathed after a moment's silence. "I do believe the woman Mrs Potts spoke to was my mother. Just shortly before she died, I remember the two women speaking together in my mother's room but their voices were urgent. There is no doubt in my mind now that that is what they were speaking about."

Belle was wary to respond, for Marie seemed subdued, even a little disappointed. It was clear the servant girl felt hurt by the fact that Mrs Potts had withheld this information from her out of fear of gossip spreading.

"You understand Mrs Potts was working under the late Duke's orders. She had no right to tell anyone about this and your mother understood this as well."

Marie nodded silently in response and Belle waited patiently for her to absorb the information.

"Yet she told you," she murmured after a while, causing Belle to stiffen physically. "Why?"

Did Belle dare tell Marie the whole truth? That the reason for Mrs Potts' revealing words had been to help Belle understand the Prince's character? Marie noted Belle's hesitance and did not press her but after a moment she spoke. The librarian was once again fortunate because the young servant girl seemed to recognise something in Belle's expression which must have given away the answer.

"Of course, oh how silly of me," she breathed, sounding almost embarrassed while Belle sat silent. "Because of the Prince's interest in you, Mrs Potts wanted to reassure you. Well, I am relieved to hear that he is at least a much more decent man than we have been led to believe. It explains why he is so cold to us and why he has kept himself hidden away in the West Wing. To be made to feel guilty for something you did not do, based on the made-up history of your own family, that is truthfully not an easy thing to overcome."

Belle looked up carefully at Marie because she feared the young maid wore a sour expression on her face, based on the strain she heard in her voice, but instead Marie was looking at Belle with something akin to awe.

"But you did not believe it, did you? That the Prince was capable of doing such things?" she continued, much to Belle's surprise. "You did not assume the worst."

"I cannot claim that Marie," said Belle with a weary smile. "I must admit I didn't know what to think. The Prince himself did warn me many times of his reputation but I didn't believe it. Deep down I had severe doubts but when I heard about his father, I did hesitate. That was why Mrs Potts told me the truth. I think she didn't want the Prince to have another person looking at him in such a way."

"Not just that Mademoiselle, but also because she knows when the Prince has a genuine connection with someone. He is alone, isolated, which is not good for one's state of mind. She saw that you could do him some good."

"I don't know," mumbles Belle in response, finding the course of their conversation to be awkward.

"Don't be so humble miss," replied Marie, for the first time her voice sounding even a little stern. "You are a good person and intelligent. You could help him out of his pit of despair and help restore this castle back to its previous state of order and grandeur."

"I do not claim to know the Prince's mind," replied Belle carefully, avoiding Marie's positive gaze. "However, I will say I have noticed a few changes to his demeanour. He is intelligent, much more so than he likes to let on and if he were to use that intellect of his I believe he could improve the welfare of those in the castle and also of those out."

Marie smiled, as if recognising Belle wanted to move away from the topic. But then something then clouded her mind and she turned to look at Belle with concern.

"He has not done anything untoward, has he?"

"Untoward?" repeated Belle as she batted her eyelids.

"It is well known that you were in the West Wing today because he had sent for you. I even heard from some maids that he found you yesterday outside after hours at the edge of grounds. You must be more careful mademoiselle. The master may not be a murderer or violent man but that does not mean he is not without a reputation. He has not done anything improper, has he?"

"Oh," replied Belle bluntly. Their encounter from that morning flashed before her eyes as she remembered how he tormented he'd looked when taking her hand. "No, nothing like that."

Marie's concern grew into a bemused smile as she took in Belle's blushing expression.

"But you and he have formed a connection I think? Maybe he has even made his intentions known. I think so, judging by the expression on your-"

"I don't know what he thinks or what he wants!" exclaimed Belle as she stood up abruptly, her hands flailing by her side as she turned to look at Marie, an almost unhinged look in her eyes. "We speak about matters of staff, the castle, of the villagers' welfare, his opinions on hierarchy! We meet by accident, when a fire is raging in the castle or when we're about to be eaten by a pack of wolves! I don't know what people have been saying but even I cannot explain what it is! He is not my friend but not my foe either; he has saved my life twice and disagrees with everything that comes out of my mouth and yet he listens anyway! I cannot make him out and yet he seems to see through me as if I were a sieve!"

"A sieve?" repeated Marie as she stared at Belle with a blank expression on her face as if she had just seen the librarian morph into a fish.

"Yes, a sieve," replied Belle weakly, nodding as she flopped back into her seat. "Oh Marie, the man drives me mad. His mood is as volatile as the inside of a volcano."

In response to this remark, the maid began to shake with laughter and seemed to utterly lose her former concern for the librarian. Belle on the other hand did not find her own remark half as amusing.

"It's true!" she persisted as Marie began to burst out in laughter. "It's unsettling, one minute he is scolding me, the next complimenting me and then smirking at me! Whenever we speak I always find I do not know what is up or down afterwards!"

Instead of curing Marie's ailment however Belle's words seemed to only spur the maid on.

"I do not understand what is so amusing," continues Belle, her voice sounding like that of a young girl whose dress was being ridiculed at a birthday party.

"Oh, mademoiselle!" exclaimed Marie once she had got her breath back. "It is nothing, really nothing!"

"Well clearly it is not as it has gotten you into such a state," replied Belle sounding almost like Mrs Potts when she was politely scolding someone.

"I would rather not tell you at present for I fear it would merely worsen the situation!" gasped Marie as she took in deep breaths.

Belle narrowed her eyes. It was clear Marie was gaining enjoyment by HER remarks on the Prince and not from the Prince's actions directly. If Marie was unwilling to reveal the butt of the joke, she had no choice but to divert the conversation.

"Speaking of strange encounters," she began slowly, eyeing Marie like a piece of prey, the maid unawares, "I believe I saw Augustin this morning looking for you by the spiral staircase in the portrait gallery. He seemed rather ruffled."

Just as Belle had anticipated, Marie froze at the mention of Augustin and looked swiftly towards Belle, unable to mask her tense form or her guarded eyes.

"I believe you said you recognised him, when I saw the two of you in the hallway," continued Belle, giving a little smile which seemed innocent enough.

"Yes, yes, I, er, had not known him necessarily but, well, he did not recognise me nor remember the girl he used to spend some rainy afternoons with."

Belle's eyes pricked as she heard the slight sound of bitterness in Marie's voice.

No longer teasing, Belle poses her next question carefully.

"So you were more than a mere observer, you were childhood friends?"

"Oh, I don't know about that," replied Marie hastily, her eyes hurt. "It was a very short period between my mother's employment and the late Duchess's death but during that time he sometimes came down to the kitchens when playing with the Prince was not an option."

"And he played with you instead," concluded Belle, her voice gentle.

"Not that he remembers any of that now," replied Marie curtly, sitting up and swiping dust off her skirt as if trying to extinguish the air of childhood nostalgia which had begun to permeate in the room. "I cannot blame him. Why should he remember the likes of me?"

Belle stared gravely at Marie, suddenly feeling rather guilty in making her feel upset. If there was only a two-year gap between the two of them then that would mean Marie was mostly likely older than Belle, which surprised her somewhat.

"He has probably not forgotten," she replied, trying to remedy the situation. "It's possible he simply does not recognize you. Have you spoken to him about this?"

"No," said Marie uneasily as she shifted her gaze towards Belle. "When we met this morning outside the West Wing we did not speak about that. And I do not wish to discuss it any further with him as he clearly does not remember. In any case, it is embarrassing and of little consequence."

"Little consequence?" replied Belle in spite of herself. "But you were friends were you not?"

"I was nothing more than a toy or a pet which distracted him from his state of boredom, that is all," said Marie hastily, gripping hold of her skirt as her face began to redden. Clearly there was a lot more going on, perhaps they had been childhood sweethearts, if only very briefly, but Belle did not wish to make Marie uncomfortable and in any case, she had successfully shifted the conversation away from the Prince, which of course had been the entire point.

"I am not intelligent like you Belle, I cannot possibly hold a conversation with such people. He would not wish to waste his time with the likes of me."

The statement came out of seemingly nowhere and as Belle turned to look at Marie in alarm, she saw the maid was looking at her almost as if she thought she were a lesser being compared to those around her.

"That is not true Marie," replied Belle firmly. "I am a mere farm girl, nothing at all and I am here to clear my debts. Unlike you, I do not earn an income here. You also do Monsieur Mansart an injustice by saying such things. I saw the way he looked at you the day before and I know he is captivated by you. Believe me, he does not see you as a waste of time."

"Maybe not mademoiselle, but I am still not his equal!" retorted Marie, although she did not speak with an argumentative tone. "I am not like the ladies he no doubt usually mingles with. I am a maid with no education. I know how to sweep the floor and wipe the windows, but I know nothing else!"

Belle sat back, finally beginning to understand the true reason behind Marie's agitated state. It wasn't about Augustine. It was about herself.

"Are you interested in using the library Marie?" asked Belle, carefully to keep her voice nebulous as she saw Marie look longingly at a nearby bookshelf. "I would be happy to lend you whatever you wished to read."

"Read," repeated Marie, swivelling her head back towards Belle, her eyes like saucers. "Oh mademoiselle, I'm afraid I must tell you- that is, I am afraid to say, I cannot read."

Belle stared at Marie in silence as she heard the maid's voice being to wobble.

"I was never taught."

Nodding her head slowly, the librarian let out a long sigh. It was as if a dam had broken and all had been revealed. She watched as Marie's shoulders sagged, as if in defeat, finally giving in and staring down at the floor in shame.

After a few moments, Belle spoke, trying to sound as calm as possible, even though she was being to feel a huge well of emotion, as if she could burst into tears as any moment.

"You know Marie," she said, blinkingly rapidly as she looked up at the beautifully painted pastoral scene painted on the ceiling above. "I used to try and find ways to give myself purpose in the village where I lived. I tried many things but the one thing which truly filled me with joy was being able to teach the little girls playing in the square to read. It is power, yes, but it is something which can be given. Not something you can only be born with. So, believe me, if you will allow me, please let me help you. If you would like, I can teach you."

By the time she finished speaking, Belle's eyes were directed firmly towards Marie, who was staring back at her in awe. After a moment, however, she shrunk back into her seat.

"What if I can't do it? I am a grown woman already."

Belle had been expecting this question to arise and therefore was able to respond readily.

"I will be with you every step of the way and believe me there is no shame in learning now. The fact that you have a will to learn is an incredible gift Marie. Not everyone has it, whether they are low or high born."

Marie smiled in response, obviously satisfied with Belle's answer.

"Thank you, Belle," she replied. "That does reassure me a bit."

Just as our young heroine turned to reply however, a knock came to the oak doors, immediately disrupting their conversation.

As Belle turned to get up from her seat, Marie abruptly took hold of her hand, confusing her slightly.

"Please be assured mademoiselle, I will refrain from speaking about what you have told me about my mother and the late Duke and Duchess. I will not breathe a word of it, to anyone."

Before Belle could get a word in edge wise, the doors opened and Lumiere entered, carrying a silver platter in front of him, which seemed to have nothing on it, except for a small piece of parchment.

As the two ladies stared in wonder at the nervous state that he was in, Lumiere lifted the letter and presented to Belle without uttering a single word.

Confused, the young lady begrudgingly accepted it before turning to look at Marie.

Neither of them could have possibly known what was written inside, even less, the true intent behind them.