Chapter 25- Kisses in the Rain
…
"Agathe?"
Marcel finally found a moment when she was unaccompanied by Aloysius. She sat at a desk in one of the many spare bedrooms Sabine and Edouard had built by conjuring. The family's 'apartment' was almost like a mini-hotel, hidden in such a humble part of London. Nearly everyone else had gone to sleep that night.
"Good evening, Marcel. Why are you still awake? Such a long exhausting day with travel and all," Agathe replied in a stuffed up voice, as if she had a slight cold- or had been crying. She held a quill pen in her slender, slightly aging fingers. A paper was on the desk.
"I was wondering the same about you." He stepped all the way into the room, bracing himself for the confession.
"I'm writing to my brother," said Agathe.
"Your brother? Regarding-"
"The death of his son," she said sadly.
Marcel sucked in a breath. "Who told you? Aloysius? What did he s-"
"I am a Lecteur d'Esprit just like my nephew was. The moment my eyes met yours at dinner, I saw everything that happened the other night. You transformed Alexis into a beast. It looked as if the shock of it, the loss of his human hands, caused him to lose grip of his broom and fall."
"I don't know for a fact if he's dead-"
"He is dead, and you killed one of his men by the freezing curse."
She held back tears, but Marcel wasn't quite sure if the tears were for her nephew, or for him, or for herself.
"But I didn't tell you and Aloysius. The others didn't see what I saw."
"You don't realize how adept I am in mind magic. I connected my mind to yours before I was Petrified, to help you in battle. It's a gift that I've often misused. I've misused a lot of my power in the past."
"I don't care about your damn mind power right now," he said irritably. This woman had to constantly flaunt how superior she was. He was reminded again how and why he used to hate her. "The fact is I killed him. It was my doing. I just wanted to tell you I'm truly so-"
She cut him off sharply. "Save it! No apologies, please. If anything, if I could turn back time, Marcel, I'd concentrate on my own flesh and blood when it came to encouraging correction and redemption."
"What do you mean? You couldn't have ever-"
"Alexis could have made the choice to be a decent man," she said with sorrow. "He grew up knowing hate and never explored the possibility of Sans-Magies being human beings with hearts and intelligence like you and me. I only ventured out to discover the outside world because I was a misfit in my family."
"Everything has to be about you, doesn't it?"
She ignored his judgment. "I was a girl with opinions, and desire to have adventure. Who wanted to use her power for things besides practical household tasks and birthing pureblood children. I went out and learned about the world. I am so grieved now, because perhaps I could've had a better influence on Alexis if I'd spent more time with him while he was growing up. When he was very small, I was like a big sister to him."
"I doubt that, Agathe," said Marcel. "He wasn't the kind of person to be influenced by anyone. You watched what he did in that Mirror. He wanted to be in charge and do what Alexis wanted, to hell with others! He even cursed Bertrand's mind. He wanted to be Minister!"
"I suppose you're right," said Agathe.
"Can you explain something? Your voice in my head told me to use L'Interieur Dehors on him and so I did. How did that happen?"
"My mind magic. The connection I made with you. My direction came to you when you needed it most. The moment when you needed my message the most, was the moment Alexis was determined to burn you to death."
Marcel flinched at the much-too-recent memory of that excruciating fight. "Yes...and thank you for that mind magic. It saved my life, again."
"You saved your own life, and all of ours. I was Petrified for hours. And as far as my late nephew and his actions, I want to ask you, Marcel- have you ever fallen off a broom in your life?"
"Of course! Plenty of times. I was a Boule de Plume player."
"Did you ever allow yourself to fall from a dangerous height?"
"Am I a ghost of a dead man, Agathe? What do you think?" he replied, thinking her question was stupid. "I used Arrêter l'élan every time I slipped off a broom while in action. It's the first charm you have to master before you even learn to mount a broom in the first place!"
"I think Alexis was capable of saving himself, even as a beast. He could have slowed down his fall if he were awake and conscious. Do you understand where I'm going?"
Realization came to him a moment later. "He could've saved himself after I cursed him if he chose to? Slowed his fall from the broom and somehow...I guess, live as a beast?" His eyes widened in shock at the idea. "Could he have survived? Because if he did, I can set up a Breakage Clause and-"
"Aloysius and I consulted his Mirror this evening, an hour ago," Agathe interrupted, shaking her head with reddened eyes. "A Mirror wouldn't lie unless someone tampers with it like I did with Bertrand's crystal ball. The answer it gave us was that he is dead, Marcel. He died on impact when he hit the water as a beast."
Marcel looked down at the floor. "It's so hard to believe."
"When you first met my nephew, you looked up to him. He gave you a direction in life. You had nothing to do, living aimlessly after you were kicked off the Faucons team. And I had erased your memory of Jacinta, like I did for every relative of Prince Adam's household."
"Can you please get out of my mind?" he said with irritation, realizing she was reading into his memories that very moment.
"Yes. If you let me be alone to write to my brother Auguste in peace. I am going to tell him what Aloysius and I know of what happened to Alexis, without disclosing my new location. Close the door, dear, and bonne nuit."
"Good night," Marcel said, shutting her door quietly.
While walking through the empty dining room and upstairs to another bedroom, he felt a sense of relief and closure, yet mixed with the discomfort Agathe always gave him. The woman could be so arrogant, so controlling. He did not appreciate her looking into his thoughts, and looked forward to the day he and Adelaide could part ways with her.
…
When Marcel woke the next morning, he was aware of the presence of Robert Lefebrve snoring away in the small bed next to his. He'd been so tired he didn't realize who shared the room.
Seeing the man sleeping peacefully was a relief, knowing that his mother had enough potion to cure him for at least this moon. There would be only a little time for Sabine and Aloysius to work together to acquire the ingredients and brew more. Robert would need to medicate himself regularly for the rest of his life.
Raindrops pelted the tiny circular window in the room, but there was enough daylight to tell it was well into morning. "Robert!" he whispered.
The man didn't stir, so Marcel left the room for fifteen minutes in search of an Enchanted washing room. When he came back, washed and shaved and wearing a decent clean outfit, Robert was awake. He lay splay-legged in bed wearing an unbuttoned, wrinkled beige shirt and apparently, nothing else.
Unaware of his companion who'd just walked in, Robert stared up at the ceiling with a smile of bliss on his bearded face, while intensely occupied with something rather private.
At least this was better than him rampaging as a vicious wolf, Marcel thought with a shake of his head. He left his roommate alone, quickly and quietly as possible.
...
Adelaide was enjoying crumpets, fruit and tea along with Sabine, Celeste, and Aloysius at the table when Marcel joined them.
"Good morning!" Adelaide greeted him. She wore a pretty new mauve dress. Marcel gave his mother a peck on the cheek 'good morning' before he sat beside Adelaide, draping his arm casually around the back of her chair.
"Where did the other men go off to, are they up?" he asked.
"Hami Daniel went down to work in the shop. Edouard went to another big meeting with some people at the English Ministry, to discuss the French situation. He's trying to get their support. Toulouse went out to explore the neighborhood just because he's curious," said Sabine. "Is Monsieur Lefebrve up?"
"Oh yes," said Marcel. "He's up." In more ways than one, he thought. "He'll be down soon, I'm sure. I guess he wants to, um...relax and enjoy the fact he's stayed human on a full-moon night. Maman, are you going to brew enough potion for him for the future?"
Sabine looked to Aloysius, whose expression was unsure. "Yes. We plan to, although the ingredients are so expensive. I asked for a loan from the bank, and Aloysius and I just sent a letter to Monique's school. Their faculty has the only remaining ingredients locked up," she told him with discomfort. "It all depends upon how sympathetic the person in charge of potions would be to random werewolves."
"Madame, you're so kind and charitable, to do this for a total stranger!" Adelaide said. "Why do they lock up potion ingredients at a school?"
"Because some ingredients are illegal," said Sabine. "Some potions are even illegal to make and sell in the city limits of Enchanted London. Not the werewolf cure. Only a few others."
"Like a certain kind of love potion, most likely," said Aloysius. "Adelaide, remember when I mentioned love potion to you? It's legal in France but controlled here."
"I remember," said Adelaide. "It sounded very creepy to me. The one that caused fake love."
"I wish it wasn't legal in our country," said Marcel, his expression darkening. "That one should be outlawed completely. Everywhere." He slammed a spoon on the table, so hard it made Adelaide flinch. She gave him a confused look.
"Are you all right, Marcel?" she asked him with concern.
"Maman, is it alright if Adelaide and I go spend some time alone?" Marcel asked Sabine and the others.
"I don't see why not," his mother replied. "I was going to have you visit Friar Thomas, but perhaps that should wait until another day. You need days of rest before a wedding, which is such a joyous time. Go to the balcony, it's on the left after the second staircase."
"Thank you, Maman," Marcel had the feeling she, too, was starting to control both him and his fianceé. It was her home, nevertheless. He beckoned Adelaide to walk with him.
…
"You can talk to me about anything that's bothering you," Adelaide said when they were alone on an iron-fenced balcony overlooking the rainy street. Dreary buildings covered the landscape as far as the eye could see. Marcel set a charm to keep both of them warm and dry.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "It's just...everything. Everything is bothering me, and I wish someone could just erase my memory back to the time when you and I were on that coach ride over the land, with your sister and everyone, and you didn't know about magic...and I still trusted Alexis."
"He's dead...isn't he?" Adelaide asked in a solemn whisper.
"Yes. You don't have to worry about him hurting you, ever again."
They stood for a while embracing, luxuriating in each other's presence and listening to the raindrops.
"Your mother thinks we should get married in only a few days...do you think she's rushing it?" Adelaide asked, breaking the lull.
"Probably." He laughed lightly. "I'd like us to just...court each other for a while. We haven't had the chance to even talk alone since we were in the castle. And even there, we were surrounded by my sister and her husband and the other staff most of the time."
"I agree," said Adelaide, giving him that smile of hers, the one that never failed to bring light back into his heart and soul. "I want us to do normal things together. No wizard battles in the sky. No brooms, no flying carriages. Is that...possible? To tell the truth, I miss Emilie, my sister. And the life I used to have."
"Adelaide, as long as we're here, away from Bertrand's people, we can do that. Be normal. For a short time."
"And then maybe soon, we can go to your mother's friend, and marry. Do you...feel the same way?" she asked tentatively.
"Yes, Adelaide. I do feel the same. Don't ever believe I don't want you badly."
She eagerly went for his lips once more. When he pulled her in, their kiss was the longest, deepest one they'd shared for so many days. The sound of the rain all around them on the balcony made it even sweeter.
When they parted, he bent down to kiss her neck and shoulder, taking in the fragrance of her hair, tasting her flushed soft skin. She gave a long sigh from what sounded like pure ecstasy. They embraced long and hard, both wishing they could be physically closer than they already were.
"Adelaide," he said after lifting his lips from the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder, "What do you wish for yourself in the future?"
"I guess...to have what your sister Plumette and Francois have with each other. And what Gaston and Emilie now have. And perhaps...to be a mother." She blinked back happy tears.
He squeezed her around the hips, alight with joy and hope. "So do I. Your sister and my sister are in France living their cozy lives, and I want to return to them as much as you do. You heard my mother say the same."
"I do hope we can all go back. My dream is to be in that beautiful castle, perhaps as a maid. Being a mere maid sounds so lowly, but your sister and all of the others are living a blessed life."
"It's a very happy place. A charmed and protected place. But I know as soon as we go back on French soil, I guarantee Bertrand and his men will be waiting. It makes me angry, Adelaide. I wish they would all be vanquished once and for all. Your dream is to live like my sister in that castle and have a big family. Mine is for Enchanteds of all families to enjoy liberty and freedom."
"I know," said Adelaide. "Whatever it takes. Whatever can be done, even if it means...more fighting."
She blinked her damp eyelashes, but did not cry. "Let's please not talk about them for awhile. I want to take time for us. For me to know everything about you. I want to know more about those games you played, and those fluff-ball rodent pets. And if they held fancy balls at your school."
"They did have fancy balls," Marcel replied. "It wasn't too different from what you might've seen at the Prince's castle or the Marquis' chateau. We learned the minuet. I thought it was stuffy and boring."
"Do you remember the name of any girl you enjoyed dancing the minuet with?" Adelaide asked, her tone growing more lighthearted and playful as their conversation went on.
Marcel sensed she was doing her best to drag him out of the darkness, away from harsh recent memories, and back into the simplicity of joy, of love. And he wanted her to.
He glanced into the rainy sky and made a thoughtful face. "Never enjoyed that kind of thing. All right, maybe Bernadette Bijou. She was friendly and decent. Couldn't tell if she was pretty or not under all that cakey makeup."
"Reminds me of Lady Evangeline," Adelaide said, referring again to the royal girl she used to serve. "She looked prettier without makeup, but I had to apply it on her and do her hair. It was my job as her lady's maid. I've always liked to put a little makeup on myself, because it covered up my pimple scars. My poor sister Emilie...well, she was scarred from smallpox for a long time, you know."
"Yes, I know that story, you told me a few times. Aloysius had a hand in helping her. And actually I think you're pretty with or without makeup."
"Thank you...I've never been considered that pretty. I'm bigger than most girls, and rather dumpy. Everyone's told me so since I was a child. It means so much to hear that."
"All I see is beauty, and I want to someday open you like a gift," he said insistently, moving to kiss her face and forehead again and again. He squeezed her hips and bottom, though the act took his restraint over the edge. He held her tighter to his own body; a delicious heat coursed between them. Adelaide gasped and pulled away, overcome with emotion.
"Mmm...um, maybe we need to go back inside soon, and have some bread and cheese?" she asked, reclaiming her breath, letting her heart rate calm.
"I think you're right." He laughed, catching his breath. "Let's talk about something else as a distraction."
"Such as?"
"Tell me more about Emilie and Gaston. I'm still glad I helped him to be pardoned by Prince Adam. I like your story about how they fell in love."
Adelaide's smile grew. "Okay! Well, you know that Aloysius healed Emilie and Gaston," Adelaide said eagerly, her cheeks still crimson from their heated embrace. "It was his special kind of love potion. They were healed from smallpox scars when they shared their first kiss. Isn't that magical? Well, of course it's magical!"
"Makes sense."
"Now, I wonder what it would do for you and me if we took it? Your Maman's been healing your injuries, and I don't have much except bruises from the broom...I'm babbling again, aren't I?"
"Yes. But I like your babbling."
"Thank you. Most people think I'm annoying when I go off on a ramble. Anyway, it was named La Potion d'Amour Guérisseur. It's no coincidence that it shares its name with Aloysius' name. I wonder if it's illegal in London..."
She paused for a moment, looking at him. "Marcel, why did you seem so angry when we were talking about potions at breakfast? You said some of them should be outlawed. Has anyone ever poisoned you with them? Was a friend or loved one of yours poisoned?"
His smile faded. "Some potions are used in the worst ways."
"Were you ever given potion without knowing?"
"Yes," said Marcel, averting his gaze.
"Oh. I'm sorry," said Adelaide.
Marcel didn't want to speak of certain embarrassing memories from his youth. How he had been the victim of love potion slipped in wine by two separate Enchanted girls, on two different occasions. One of them, an enchantress named Roxanne, managed to seduce him into her bed. His memory of that experience was fuzzy and dreamlike. He was eighteen then, and the girl spoiled what he had hoped to save for his true love. His friends had laughed and called it 'getting lucky.'
It would definitely hurt Adelaide's feelings if she knew about those things in his past. She might think badly of him.
With relief, he could tell that she was thinking about something else at the moment. Her mouth opened eagerly as he recalled a new story she wanted to tell.
"I remember something! You weren't there, you were still in the prison. But the day I met your mother, my brother-in-law Gaston let himself in her house, uninvited. He started boasting and running his mouth off about 'warlocks' in an Enchanted home. Your Maman was worried, so she slipped him a sleeping potion. He passed out on the sofa. Just in time, because Sauvageon came! He and another wizard burst inside her home, breaking the window- and they had a battle right in front of me! Putting Gaston to sleep was for his own safety. It made perfect sense for her to slip him that potion. That wasn't wrong in my opinion."
"What?" said Marcel, shocked at this new account. "You were in the room? Sauvageon was in my mother's house and he started a fight? Was anyone hurt?"
"Toulouse was hurt by that older wizard who was with Sauvageon. But the odd thing was that Sauvageon healed him. I think he healed Toulouse only because he and Aloysius gave themselves up to be arrested, and taken to the prison where you were!"
"Because they were planning to rescue us!" Marcel exclaimed, now aware of more details behind the whole breakout scheme. "It must have been the same day...Adelaide, I can't believe you were there in the middle of it. You could have been killed!"
"But I wasn't. So don't worry about me. What happened then doesn't matter."
He managed a smile again. "Okay. But how did Sauvageon not hurt someone like your brother in law? Him, a Sans-Magie, lying there on my mother's sofa? That's just bizarre."
"I told Sauvageon that Gaston was a wizard from Wales named John Smith. He and that other man almost started to believe me. Then, Toulouse hit the older wizard with his bee curse. That man was distracted for a moment, I guess."
Marcel shook his head, trying not to laugh. "Unreal! For Merlin's sake, that is unreal, Adelaide! You are honestly something else." He beamed with growing joy, holding her close. "You were a warrior, in your own way! I love it."
She'd done it again; she pulled him back into sunshine and light.
"It makes me feel safe knowing Sauvageon is dead. That's the truth," said Adelaide softly.
"I thought you wanted to talk about pleasant things today. I know I do."
She nodded. "Yes. Pleasant things. I'd like to take a walk in the rain with you. This is London, why not have fun here?"
"I don't see why not." Marcel waved his hand and conjured two umbrellas, a red one and a blue one. "I'll keep the drying charm around us, but we'll carry umbrellas so nobody thinks we're odd to be dry in the rain."
"Are there Enchanted hangouts here?"
"Probably. I don't know where they are, everything is secret. I wouldn't find them unless I was told by a local."
"Then let's just walk around, acting normal like two Sans-Magies today. It will be fun!" Adelaide said. She slipped her hand in his, and they left the balcony.
They managed to find a flight of stairs to the bottom, slipping out of the building after passing through Sabine's husband's furniture shop and into the street.
The two of them walked with their umbrellas along the rainy and dreary streets of London for an hour or two, talking about anything that came to mind. Adelaide was pleased to hear Marcel speak politely to the locals in what sounded like perfect English; her heart swelled with love. They hopped over puddles and horse dung, laughing about everything and nothing, all at once. The rain cleared when they got back to the building.
…
That evening Marcel ended up roommates with Robert again in the small bedroom.
"Where were you earlier, mon ami?" asked the older man, lounging in the same wrinkled shirt though blessedly with his breeches on. He was reading a book by candlelight.
"Out with Adelaide. What are you reading?"
"That Friar Thomas' book. Toulouse already read it, devoured it in three hours. But this version is a bore. Everyone knows you can't force yourself to not do magic for a long time! Or else you'll go insane and set off explosions. It's common knowledge, for Merlin's sake! I don't understand all this damn fancy scientific babble and big words and stuff." He tossed the book on the table between them.
Marcel picked it up and thumbed through it, squinting at the big words and science mumbo jumbo. "You're right. What a nightmare of a book. This was written by the fellow my Maman wants to preside over our wedding ceremony. He's way too smart, I hope he doesn't ask me and Adelaide too many hard questions."
"It's a wedding, not an interview to a university! He'll be doing you a great favor, mon ami. Not too many wizards perform cross-marriages. Outlawed in France now. So I suggest you take the opportunity to marry that sweet lady while you can."
"Thanks, Robert! So, would you ever get married if you don't transform any longer?"
"I don't know," he said, shrugging. "Haven't come to that yet. I'm not that old. Thirty nine or forty, I think."
"You do...want women, don't you?"
"Very much. You know, I'm not into men. I was joking all that time. Loved seeing your reaction." He laughed loudly. Marcel made a face of pure relief, he couldn't help himself.
"So you weren't thinking of me earlier- I mean-"
The large man threw his head back and laughed even louder, likely waking up Aloysius in the next room. "Non. I'm afraid not, Marcel. I don't lean that way. Joke's on you."
"Maybe you could go out and meet someone soon. It might, I don't know- make you happier."
"I'll take your advice. Should I shave my beard?"
"That's up to you," Marcel laughed. "Adelaide would be the one you should ask. She used to do hair in her old job. She likes when I have a short beard, she says it's manly."
"Sweet thing, your Adelaide is. I'd imagine her body would be a feast, so soft and voluptuous, curves everywhere-"
"Quit drooling over my girl!" Marcel grabbed a pillow and flung it at Robert.
"Have you had her yet?"
"What? No! I haven't," Marcel said, defending her honor. "She's not to 'have' until she becomes my wife."
"I thought you were one of those morality types. You ought to have Adelaide read that damned book right there, but in the Good Friar's Sans-Magie edition!" He gestured to the Friar Thomas book on the table and grinned wolfishly. "You must be a burning volcano of passion, mon ami. About to explode just like a wizard who hasn't said a spell for a year. You ought to take up my morning habit."
Marcel choked back a laugh. Now he remembered why he and Robert became friends in prison. His crude, coarse manners were the perfect foil to Agathe's proper airs, and he simply provided a diversion in the midst of that hellish place.
"I am a burning volcano, you're right!" he bantered back. "But good things come to those who wait. As long as Adelaide reins both of us in, I'll win this war of the flesh."
"Admirable, son. But I won't wait now that I'm a free man! Tomorrow I'm going on the prowl. Women here love Frenchmen, especially ones with muscles like mine." Robert flexed his arms.
"You've never met Adelaide's brother in law?" Marcel asked.
"No. Why?" grunted the larger man.
"No reason, I suppose," Marcel said, still holding back laughter. He rummaged in the drawer and took out some Enchanted French coins. He transformed them in his palm to a few English pounds sterling.
"Here, you'll need these," he said casually, tossing the coins to Robert.
"Merci beaucoup!" said Robert, grinning.
...
