Chapter Twenty-Nine
May 3rd, 1759
"What on earth did you do to Babette?" demanded Cogsworth.
Lumiere, who had been slumped over the kitchen wall, looked up at the castle's majordomo.
"Nothing!" he insisted.
"I asked her where you were and she spouted off some words that I am not comfortable repeating," said Cogsworth, his dial turning red at the memory.
"Not long after I came to the castle, Josette and I were intimate together," Lumiere explained. "I told Babette this a few weeks ago and she got angry. I have no idea why. It happened seventeen years ago. I barely even knew Babette back then."
"Lumiere, exactly how many women have you been intimate with?" asked Cogsworth.
"I don't know," he admitted.
"You don't know?" Cogsworth echoed incredulously.
"It's not like I keep track," Lumiere replied, shrugging. "If I had to guess, I'd say somewhere around one hundred."
"One hundred!" exclaimed Cogsworth in disbelief. "I think that might be the reason Babette is so reluctant to continue her relationship with you."
"Yes, I definitely got that feeling," said Lumiere. "But I don't want any other woman. I just want her. I've spent the last two months trying to convince her of this, but nothing has worked. I can understand why she doesn't trust me, though."
"You need to do something that will prove that you don't just see her as another romantic conquest," said Cogsworth. "Perhaps you could give her a present. Not one that you would give any old girl, though. Something that holds a lot of sentimental value to you."
An idea suddenly came to Lumiere. He started hopping out of the room as fast as possible.
"Where are you going?" called Cogsworth.
"I've got an idea!"
Lumiere hopped all the way up to his old bedroom. He hadn't been inside for nine years and every single inch of it was now covered in a thick layer of dust. The servants had neglected to clean the area of the castle that had been their home before the curse. The memories were far too painful. He carefully opened the bottom drawer of his wardrobe and pulled out a small black box. He tucked the box under one of his arms and started hopping around the castle looking for Babette. He had been searching for well over three hours when Mrs Potts happened upon him.
"Lumiere? What's wrong? From what I've heard, you've been hopping around in circles all night."
"I've been looking for Babette," explained Lumiere. "Have you seen her?"
"She's in the kitchen," said Mrs Potts. "I'm afraid she doesn't want to speak to you, though."
Lumiere quickly hopped into the kitchen, where found Babette dusting one of the cupboards.
"Babette?"
Babette ignored him.
"Babette, I've got something I want to give you."
"And how exactly am I going to open that?" asked Babette, glancing down him. "I have no arms, remember."
Lumiere slowly opened the box, taking great care not to set anything on fire. Inside was a silver braided wire ring that looked as though it were hundreds of years old.
"Forget it, Lumiere," said Babette, turning away from him. "You can't buy me back with presents."
"You don't understand. This ring has been in my family for almost two hundred years," explained Lumiere. "My great-great-great grandmother was the mistress of a count, who was much older than her. He was the one who gave her the ring. After he died, she married my great-great-great grandfather, and their son eventually gave the ring to his wife. Their son gave it to his wife and so on. Now, as my parents' only son, it's in my possession."
"And you're giving this to me?" asked Babette, her eyes widening. She hopped down from the cupboard to join Lumiere on the floor.
"Yes," confirmed Lumiere. "To prove that I don't just see you as another notch on my belt. I only want you, Babette. Unfortunately, I have an uncontrollable need to charm every beautiful woman I see. I just can't help myself. I'm a lost cause. I would never, ever be unfaithful to you, though."
"I suppose that I am not one to judge. I have a tendency to be rather coquettish myself," said Babette. She glanced down at the ring sadly. "It's a shame I'll never get to wear this, though."
"I wish you would be more optimistic, cherie," said Lumiere. "We've still got time left. You never know what could be around the corner."
Lumiere wrapped his arms around Babette's handle and began to cover her face with kisses. He slowly moved his hands down to feathers as his kisses got more and more passionate. Suddenly, Babette let out a loud piercing scream. Lumiere sheepishly pulled his hands away. Mrs Potts, who had been eavesdropping on their conversation in the next room, quickly came hopping in. She doused Babette with lukewarm tea, successfully putting out the fire.
"Heavens, Lumiere! It's been ten years. I'd have thought you'd have learned to control your flames by now," she admonished.
Lumiere buried his face in his hands. He hated being so careful all the time. He was a danger to everyone around him. He still held a tiny glimmer of hope that the Beast would somehow break the curse in time. That was what had been keeping him so optimistic throughout the years. He couldn't take much more of this, however. That tiny glimmer was becoming smaller and smaller as each day passed.
"Good morning, Papa!" Belle sang as she skipped into the kitchen. She sat down at the table, opposite her father, and dug her spoon into the bowl of porridge that was sitting before her.
"Belle, I've got something to tell you," Maurice began slowly, wondering how to phrase what he was about to tell her. "We're moving back to my old village."
Belle looked up from her porridge, alarmed.
"W-what?" she stammered. "Why? How could you make this decision without consulting me?"
"I just want to keep you safe, Belle," Maurice told her.
"I am safe!" countered Belle.
"How can you say that after what happened last night?" demanded Maurice.
"Papa, I've lived here my entire life and this is the first time I've ever been in danger," said Belle.
"That's not exactly true," said Maurice. "Someone kidnapped you when you were a week old. No wonder your mother wanted to move to the countryside."
"I'm sixteen now, Papa. I can look after myself," Belle insisted.
"I'm your father. I promised your mother that I would protect you. You're all I've got left, Belle. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. Please think this over, little doe. We won't go if you really don't want to. It will only be for a year or so. If the lifestyle suits us then we'll look at something a little more permanent," said Maurice. "Now finish your breakfast."
"I'm not hungry," murmured Belle.
She pushed her bowl of porridge away, stood up, ran out to the living room, and sunk into the settee. How could her father expect her to leave her childhood home? She couldn't leave the only life she had ever known. Paris was a city full of vibrant imagination and fascinating intellectuals. Belle belonged there. She thrived there. She didn't want to leave her home, and she didn't want to leave Alain for that matter.
On the other hand, perhaps there was an upside to moving away to the village. Everywhere she looked she saw something that reminded her of her mother. Papa's creativity had been in a rut ever since her mother had died. He was a completely different man to the one she had known as a child. Perhaps getting her father away from all the reminders of her mother would be good for him. Plus, he had to work all day in order to support them. If they lived outside of the city, they could keep farm animals, grow their own vegetables, and be, for the most part, self-sufficient. Papa would have time to work on his inventions and he wouldn't be distracted by the memories of her mother.
The next day, Belle went to the library to tell Monsieur Lafont that she was leaving town and that he would have to find someone else to fill her job. He patted her on the hand, told her that he would have a hard time finding a replacement for her, and allowed her to take any book she wanted as a parting gift. As she was leaving, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around her waist and a deep voice whisper her name into her ear.
"Oh, hi, Alain," Belle murmured dejectedly.
"What's wrong?" Alain asked.
"Papa and I are leaving town," Belle told him.
"What?" exclaimed Alain, alarmed. "Why?"
"He wants me to be safe and I want him to be happy," Belle answered.
"Where are you going?"
"Papa's old village," Belle answered sadly. "It's almost two hundred miles away."
"Two hundred miles isn't that far," said Alain, smiling. "Don't worry, Belle. I am not ready to graduate quite yet, but when I do, I promise I will come and find you."
"Really?"
"We will get married and move to a small town not too far away from here. I will do my best to help people in need of medical attention and you will assist me," Alain told Belle, lovingly stroking her hair. "When you're not looking after the children, of course," he added quickly.
"I don't know about that," said Belle, frowning. "I do want to marry you, of course, but I've always wanted to travel and I couldn't do that if I had children to look after."
"Oh, Belle," said Alain, chuckling. "You're far too old to still be having these silly dreams. Who would look after your father? He's too old and feeble to travel with you. I think you will find that marriage and motherhood is far more rewarding"
"I suppose so," said Belle, feeling very stupid.
"When are you leaving?" asked Alain.
"Friday morning," Belle replied.
"Will you be free on Thursday? Perhaps you could come over to my boarding house. You can meet my friends and then, uh, we could spend some time together in my room," said Alain, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"Oh, sure," said Belle, smiling. "I've never been to your boarding house before."
"No, Belle. You don't understand," said Alain, chuckling. "I want to be intimate with you."
"Oh." Belle suddenly realised what he was implying. "I-I don't think I'd be comfortable doing something like that."
"You do love me, don't you?" asked Alain.
"O-of course I do," stammered Belle. "But shouldn't we wait until we are married?"
"But that won't be for quite a while," said Alain. "I don't want to wait that long, do you? I have acquired a prophylactic device that will prevent any unwanted circumstances if that is what you are worried about."
"Unwanted circumstances?" Belle repeated, blinking.
"You know, to prevent you from becoming with-child," said Alain.
"Oh. Well, I guess we could do that," said Belle, a knot tying in her stomach.
"Good," said Alain, grinning from ear-to-ear. "I'll see you on Thursday night."
Belle spent the next week making a list of everything she was going to take to their new home and saying good bye to everyone she had ever known. However, her mind was fraught with worry over what she was planning to do on Thursday night. What if Alain was disgusted by the sight of her naked body? What if she wasn't good enough and she disappointed him? What if the device that Alain had spoken of didn't work and she became with-child?
Belle spent her last day in town packing up all her clothes and books and putting them in two large bags, which she placed next to front door. At five o'clock, she put on her best dress and headed towards the door.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay and help you pack, Papa?" asked Belle before she left.
"No, darling, you go and spend your last night in town however you want to," Maurice assured her.
Belle arrived at Alain's boarding house half an hour later. Alain greeted her at the door. He introduced her to all of his housemates, who, much like Alain, were all wealthy, handsome, well-mannered young men in their early twenties. Then, the moment Belle had been dreading came.
Alain took her up to his room, which was littered with large, thick medical books and journals. He removed his shirt, exposing his bare chest, which was every bit as magnificent as Belle had imagined it would be. He gently pushed her up against the wall and started kissing her passionately, feeling her body with his hands. Belle suddenly started feeling very uncomfortable. This was the exact same position she had been in the night she had been attacked. She knew Alain meant well, but no matter how he touched her, she couldn't help but be reminded of that night. She couldn't take much more of this.
"Alain, stop," she ordered.
Alain let go of her and stepped back, a shocked look on his handsome face.
"I'm sorry. I just can't do this," Belle sighed.
"Don't you love me?" asked Alain, a twinge of pain in his voice.
"I'm sorry, Alain. I'm just not ready for this. It's not that I don't care for you. I hope you understand," said Belle gently.
"I understand," he murmured sadly.
"Good bye. I'll miss you," Belle promised. She gave him one last kiss on the lips and strode out of the room, firmly shutting the door behind her.
The next morning, Belle and Maurice woke up early, hitched Philippe up to their old cart, took their belongings outside. They went back into the house to take one last look before they left.
"There are so many memories in this old place," said Maurice, looking around the house fondly. "It's a shame we're leaving it behind. Look, that's where you took your first steps!"
"What's going to have happen to the house, Papa?" asked Belle.
"Madame Bisette and Celine have agreed to watch over it while we are gone. If we decide to stay in the village, we'll sell it," Maurice replied. "Come on, dear. It's best we go now before we change our minds."
Maurice took his daughter's hand and led her outside where Philippe was waiting. He was hitched up to an old cart that held their belongings. Maurice helped Belle into the cart before he climbed in himself and tugged at Philippe's reins. The horse took off down the street and Belle watched the only life she had ever known slip out of her sight. The buildings became less and less familiar the further they travelled. The large, stone buildings soon turned into tiny cottages. The tiny cottages soon turned into wide open fields, which soon became thick, large forests. Belle spent the entire journey staring morosely. Maurice assumed that Belle was still upset over having to leave Alain.
At nightfall, they stopped at a small rundown little inn just outside of Nevers. In an effort to cheer Belle up, Maurice paid for two separate rooms and allowed her to order anything she wanted for dinner.
"Belle, why do you like this boy?" asked Maurice as he watched Belle picking at her cheese soufflé.
"I love him," she murmured sadly.
"Why do you love him?"
"He's handsome and he's intelligent," answered Belle, thinking. "And he's kind. He wants to help people"
"Anything else?" questioned Maurice.
"Actually, I have been having doubts about him lately," Belle admitted. "I used to think I loved him. Now I'm not so sure."
"What is the first thing you think of when you hear his name?"
"I think of how handsome he is," admitted Belle.
"When you think about the future, what do you imagine it is going to be like?"
"I picture myself traveling all over the world," answered Belle excitedly. "Climbing mountains, sailing through harsh storms, exploring dark caves."
"And who is with you?"
"No one," said Belle. "I am usually alone. Sometimes I am accompanied by people, but they are usually faceless. They aren't anyone I know."
"I don't think you really love him, Belle," said Maurice. "I'm not trying to be condescending. I had my fair share of infatuations with the girls in my village when I was your age, though I was always too nervous to approach them. I thought I was in love with them too. However, I can barely even remember their names, even the ones I saw every day for twenty-five years. However, nothing will ever wipe your mother's image from my mind. When I remember your mother, I think of how kind, sweet, intelligent, and talented she was. She was beautiful, but that didn't define who she was for me."
"You're right, Papa," Belle admitted. "I do care for Alain, though I'm not in love with him. I don't really want to marry him, but I told him I would. What is he going to say when he comes looking for me and I turn him down?"
"To be honest, Belle, I don't think Alain really loves you all that much either," said Maurice. "He kept trying to change you into the woman he wanted you to be. You should love someone for what they are, not the person you want them to be, and you shouldn't feel that you should have to change for anyone either. That's one of the things I really loved about your mother. She knew every single one of my flaws and yet she still loved me. She supported my unconventional ambitions and did everything she could to help me."
"It really felt as I were in love with him, Papa," said Belle, looking sadly down at her soufflé.
"You had nothing to compare it to," said Maurice comfortingly. "But I think it's good to have a few infatuations when you are young. When you do fall in love, you'll know it."
Belle quickly finished off her soufflé and pushed the dish away from her.
"I'm going to bed," Belle told her father. "Thank you for dinner, Papa."
Belle trudged up to her room and threw herself down on the bed. She really needed to read something right now. Reading was the one activity that could make her feel better about anything, no matter what it was. Two bags sat on the floor. One contained the clothes she had packed, the other contained her books. Belle dug her hand into the bag and pulled out a book. It was the The Faerie Queene. It had always been one of her favourites. But she hadn't read it in months. She hadn't read any of her old books in months. She had just been reading Alain's science books, which she had no interest in whatsoever.
Memories flooded back to her. It all suddenly became clear to her. Alain had made her feel awful for being herself and had forced her to become someone she wasn't. He had made her feel stupid and worthless for dreaming and reading fantasy books. How could she have let him do that to her? Well, that wasn't going to happen again. From now on, she wouldn't let anyone tell her what to do or what to think, no matter what happened. No one was ever going to make her feel bad about being herself again.
Thank you to everyone who filled in my survey, again!
