A week later, Christine woke up early. Then, as she sat up, she turned and looked at the sleeping Marc for a moment.
After a moment, she smiled at him, leaned over his sleeping form, and kissed his shoulder. Then she got up and started getting dressed.
When she was dressed, she stumbled into the kitchen and started cooking a breakfast of eggs, toast, and Russian tea with lemon. But her thoughts were far away from breakfast.
The past week with Marc had been the best week she'd ever known in her life. He'd taught her that even people who were the most horrible and undeserving people could be loved. She thought that she was undeserving, so it was good that he taught her that.
When she had cooked breakfast, she went over to her swan bedroom to wake Marc up. She hated to wake him up, since he looked peaceful when he slept, but she had to wake him up so that they could eat, pack, and start their stowaway line in order to get to London. So she placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. "Marc," she whispered. "Wake up."
He stirred and stretched. Then he yawned, rubbed his eyes, and opened them. He smiled sleepily when he saw her. "Well, good morning, my love."
She smiled and kissed him. "Good morning. It's time to get up now."
He sighed and unwillingly sat up. "Do I have to?"
"Yes. We've got to eat and pack. Our train leaves at eleven o'clock. It's nine thirty."
"Oh, all right," he sighed resignedly, getting out of bed and looking around for his clothes.
After gazing at him for a moment, she walked back into the kitchen and put their breakfasts on plates.
When he was dressed, he came into the kitchen and snuck up behind her. Then he let out a yell and wrapped an arm around her waist.
She laughed and turned to him. "Why, sir!" she said, taking on a very well - imitated British accent. "Are you trying to frighten me?"
"Well, of course not, miss," he replied. "I woudn't want to frighten my love; not on purpose."
She smiled and kissed him. Then she handed him his plate of eggs and toast and a cup of Russian tea with lemon. "Your breakfast, mon amour."
"Thank you," he replied, rewarding her with a kiss and making his way to the dining table. Then she got her breakfast and made her way to the dining table, sitting next to him.
He took her hand and smiled.
She looked confused. "What?"
"Well, besides the fact that I want to hold your hand," he replied, gazing at her intently, "I want to pray, Christine. I want to thank God for you; I haven't done it out loud at all. I'm just so grateful for you, and for this past week with you."
After gazing at him for a moment, she said rather darkly, "I'm not going to pray."
He looked shocked. "Why, Christine! And you said that in such a horrid manner! Why not?"
"Because I don't believe in God. I thought you knew that about me."
"You don't believe in God?"
She raised her eyebrows. "You make it sound like the worst thing in the world."
"It almost is," he replied. "You're an unbeliever... you don't believe in the God who created you and me; the God that had you escape from the mob all that time ago and meet me; the God that had us fall in love with each other; the God that made this past week happen..."
"God didn't do any of that," she retorted, "because God doesn't exist. We made that happen by ourselves."
He bit his lip. "Christine... I don't believe that... that -"
"That what?" she snapped. "That you had this past week with me and didn't know that I didn't believe in God? Wouldn't you have had this week with me, even had you known? Are you saying that what I believe would have influenced this week, because you wouldn't have had us have that first night -"
He placed a finger on her lips. "Shh, darling... no, I'm not saying that. I would have had this week despite anything... I love you, Christine; don't you know that?"
She finally sighed. "Yes," she murmured. "Yes, I know... you've proven that you love me in this past week..." She looked up at him resentfully. "I'm sorry that I didn't fully trust in you until this week... I shouldn't have needed this to know that -"
"Hush. There's nothing more to say about it. I'll pray by myself; you go ahead and eat," he said reassuringly. "It's all right." He paused. "Do you mind if I pray out loud, though?"
She shrugged. "I suppose not. Go ahead."
"Thank you." He still held onto her hand, bowed his head, and closed his eyes. "Dear God, thank You for this day, and thank You for everything that you've done to make this past week happen. I thank You very much for Christine here, whom I love with all my heart. Thank You for letting me have her, even though we're not married and it was wrong in Your eyes. Please let our travels to London be safe, and please not have Christine get caught. I don't know what I'll do if she's captured. In Your name I pray, Amen."
"Amen," she murmured in spite of herself. "That was very nice, Marc."
He looked at her, smiled, and kissed her hand. "Thank you." Then they started eating.
When they were done eating, they washed the dishes and then packed their suitcases.
"Are we taking Minuit with us?" he asked as he closed his suitcase. "I imagine we can, and then you can ride him in London."
She nodded and smiled. "Sure. Yes, let's take Minuit with us."
"All right."
As she closed her suitcase, she glanced at the bed for a moment. Then she blushed slightly. "I suppose we should have washed the sheets before today," she informed him. "They're a mess."
He laughed and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her neck. "Ah, it's all right. If we ever come back -"
"We will," she replied in such a determined tone that he didn't dare to argue with her.
"All right. When we come back, we'll wash them. They're fine until then."
"Okay."
Then they picked up their suitcases and Christine put on her cloak and covered her head with the hood, took each other's hand, and made their way through the exit that led to the stables so that they could get Minuit.
Minuit whinnied a greeting when they entered the stables.
"Bonjour, Minuit," Christine murmured, smiling, stepping inside his stables and untying the rope that was around his neck. "Are you ready to go to London?"
Minuit whinnied a response and tossed his head.
"I knew you were." She handed Marc her suitcases, pulled herself up, and swung her right leg over Minuit's back. Then she grabbed his mane gently and led him out of his stable. "Come on," she said to Marc. "Get on."
Marc handed her the suitcases, and then he copied what she had just done. "Do you want me to control him, so that you can hold to suitcases?" he asked.
She nodded. "Sure."
He grabbed Minuit's mane. "Yah!" he yelled, and then Minuit ran out of the stables, towards the back roads, where Marc led him.
After riding for a while, they got to the Paris Train Station and rode to the platform where passengers were boarding to Calais. As it turned out, they got there just in time - the train was starting to pull away.
"Yah!" Marc yelled, causing Minuit to speed up and eventually jump on the back of the train. Then they rode him into the baggage car, where they would hide for the duration of the trip.
"Excellent," Christine said, handing Marc, who had just gotten off of Minuit, the suitcases and dismounting. "And now we'll be here for about two days."
"And what would you like to do during those two days?" he asked, smiling slyly and placing the suitcases down on the floor as she rewarded Minuit with a treat that she'd had hidden in a pocket of her dress.
She felt her face flush as she turned to him and smiled shyly. "I don't know," she murmured, walking over to him and linking her hands behind his neck. "What would you like to do?"
"Hmm..." He pretended to look throughtful. "I was thinking of... this!"
Then he grabbed her around the waist, pushed her onto the floor as gently as possible, and got on top of her, kissing her and reaching into his satchel for the blanket that he'd packed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, Christine woke up and reached for her nearby clothing and mask.
She felt a hand grab her wrist. "And what do you think you're doing?" a voice murmured in her ear.
Smiling, she turned and looked at Marc, who was smiling and gazing at her lovingly.
"I'm getting dressed," she replied, kissing him and freeing her wrist from his grip.
He grabbed her wrist again and pulled her arm down onto the floor. "I don't think that's necessary," he replied in a rather taunting tone. "You look much more attractive without clothes on."
She blushed. One week and one day and he was suddenly some sort of animal! "Well, you may think that," she replied, "but I'm getting cold here on this floor."
He rolled over and got on top of her, pinning her arms to the floor, as she started to reach for her clothes and mask again. "Then let me warm you."
She laughed. "No. I'm hungry; I'm going to try and sneak into the dining car and steal some food."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Oui!"
"Non!"
She bit her lip, trying to think of a response. "Quit trying to use my native language against me!"
He laughed and kissed her nose. "All right, my dear. You win." He let go of her arms and rolled off of her. "Go and steal some food."
"Thank you." She reached over for her clothes and mask and dressed. Then she stood up.
"Will you get something for me, too?"
"Maybe..."
"Oh, Christine! I'm hungry, too!"
She looked down at him tauntingly. "Well, you should have thought of that before you started trying to stop me from getting food!"
He faked a pout and clasped in hands together. "Please, Christine? I love you."
She laughed. "Well, I suppose I can steal some extra food. What do you want?"
"Whatever they've got. I'm starved."
She got down on her knees, bent over, and kissed him. "All right. I'll be back soon." Then she crept out of the baggage car and made her way to the dining car.
After a moment, he sighed happliy, sat up, and started dressing.
By the time he was done, she returned with an entire plate of toast, two cups of English tea with milk, and two plates with with eggs sunny - side up and three patties of sausage each.
He laughed as she set the food down on the floor with some difficulty. "Got enough food there, love?"
"Yes." She handed him a plate of eggs and sausage and a cup of tea. "There."
"Thank you."
"Mm - hmm." Then they started eating.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Four days later, Christine and Marc sat in the bottom deck of the ship going from Calais to Portsmouth. Christine was bored and kept looking out the window impatiently.
As she turned to him and opened her mouth to speak, he said, "No, we're not there yet. We get there when we get there."
She let out a huffy sigh, causing a wisp of her hair to get out of her face. "Fine." She sighed again. "But I'm so bored, Marc!" she whined. "I've nothing to do except read, and I've been reading ever since we got on the ship yesterday."
"Why don't you take care of Minuit?" he suggested.
"I did that already, too."
He smiled slyly, moved closer to her, and wrapped an arm around her waist. Then her murmured in her ear, "We're alone..."
She looked rather shocked. "Marc! On the ship?"
"You know that I brought a blanket." He glanced at a nearby car. "We could get in the car."
Her shock increased. "Marcus! That's someone's car!"
"Oh, come on, Christine," he said appeasingly. "Some couple has probably done it once before."
"Well, I don't care. I'm not going to."
He let out a mock sigh. "Well, all right. I suppose you'll just have to remain bored until we get to London..."
She bit her lip and glanced from him to the car. Then, after a moment, she grabbed his arm and pulled him up with her as she stood up. "Get the blanket."
He threw his head back and laughed. "I knew you'd give in at one point."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Some time later, as Marc and Christine lay in the back seat of the car together, Christine reached underneath the seat and picked up a book that she'd brought in the car with her. She opened the page she'd marked and started reading, pulling the blanket up more until it reached her chin.
Marc laughed softly and kissed her cheek, one of her ears, and her neck. "Bored?"
She glanced at him and smiled. "Not really... I just like reading." Then she resumed reading again.
He was silent for a moment. Then he asked, "What are you reading?"
"La Fugitive."
"Ah," he said, nodding. "That's one of the A La Recherche De Temps Perdu novels, right?"
"Mm - hmm," she murmured, too absorbed in the book to pay him much attention.
Then he didn't say anything more and started reading over her shoulder. He had to read a lot quicker than his normal pace, since she was a fast reader, but he managed to keep up with her.
After they read for a while, she marked the page she was on, closed the book, and sat up with some difficulty, since the back seat was crowded, and started to climb out of the car, wrapping the blanket around herself to cover herself up.
He laughed. "No fair!" Then he sat up, grabbed her around the waist, grabbed a section of the blanket from her, and covered himself with it, following her out of the car.
When they'd dressed, he said, "I'm hungry."
"Me, too. You go steal the food today."
"But -"
"No buts," she interrupted, sitting down on the floor, opening her book, and starting to read again. "I got the food the entire time we were on the train - and I got the food yesterday. Now it's your turn."
"Oh, all right," he sighed resignedly. He walked over to her and kissed her. "Be back in a minute."
"Mm - hmm."
He gazed at her lovingly for a moment, then snuck out, making his way to the kitchen.
A short time later, he returned with a dinner of soup, an entire loaf of bread, chicken, and two cups of English tea with milk.
When she saw that he'd placed the food down on the floor, she smiled, marked her page, closed the book, and put it down on the floor. Then she crawled over to where he'd put the food and started putting her serving on her plate that he'd brought.
After he served himself his food and had poured both of them a cup of tea, he sat down next to her, wrapped an arm around her waist, and started eating with his free hand. Then a thought occured to him. "You know what?"
"Hmm?" she murmured, since her mouth was full of food.
"We're close to August now... actually, we're about to enter the first full week of August. Do you know what that means?"
"Mm - mmm."
"Emmanuelle said that she was planning on getting married sometime during the first week of August. She said she was getting married the first Friday of August. Do you know what day it is?"
She swallowed her food. "No."
"It's Wednesday. We'll be in Portsmouth tomorrow afternoon, and then we'll instantly get on the train to London. We should be in London tomorrow night - late." He paused and smiled. "This means that we'll be able to attend Emmanuelle's wedding on Friday."
She nearly choked on her tea. Then she bit her lip. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," she said nervously. "She's probably angry at me for killing your mother... no, in fact, I know that she's angry at me for killing your mother... Sarah, too. No, no, no... I find the idea of attending Emmanuelle's wedding quite horrible."
"Why?"
"Why?" she echoed. "Why? Marc, it would scandalize all of London high society if we went... or, at least, if I went. You should go alone."
"I'm not going without you," he said firmly. "So either we both go or we both don't go."
"Then we're not going."
"We are going, Christine. There's no question. I'm taking you to Emmanuelle's wedding, and you'll enjoy it. If London high society is scandalized by it, then that's their decision and their problem."
She shook her head. "No."
"Yes."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"Non!"
"Oui!"
She looked annoyed. "You're doing it again! You're using my native language against me! Stop it!"
"Fine." He paused. "But we're going to the wedding."
"Marc -!"
"Don't argue. We're going to the wedding, and that's final."
She sighed resignedly. "Oh, fine. We'll go to your sister's damn wedding, if it so pleases you."
He smiled and kissed her cheek. "It would please me." Then he kissed her. "Thank you, dear."
"Sure."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next evening, Christine, Marc, and Minuit got off of the train that had been going from Portsmouth to London.
Marc smiled and took Christine's free hand - her other hand was holding her suitcases and Minuit's mane at once. "Home, sweet home."
"Yes," Christine sighed. "London."
He gazed at her for a moment. "You don't want to be here, do you?"
"Not particularly. But it's your home, and you want to be here." She paused. "I'm more worried about the wedding, though. I'm afraid about what people's reaction will be."
He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry about them. You'll be fine." He took her hand again. "Come on - let's go find somewhere to stay."
"Aren't we going to Wellington Estate?"
He considered. "Well, I suppose we could sleep in the stables, so no one will see us. Is that what you want?"
She shrugged. "Sure. We could drop Minuit off there, too - we were going to, anyway, actually."
"All right. Then let's go."
Then the three of them - Christine, Marc, and Minuit - made their way towards the Wellington Estate stables.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N #1: All right, I've got a question for you guys - do you want me to write a love scene at one point? The rating would be upped, of course, and I'd let you know in an A/N before the chapter started. Or would you rather that I leave that to you guys's imaginations? Let me know, and if majority says 'yes', then I'll inform you of it, up the rating, and then let you know in the A/N.
A/N #2: Who saw my tibute to Titanic (the car scenario, with Marc saying, "Some couple has probably done it once before.")?