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Chapter 29
Raoul
Meg refused to eat. Janelle and I barely managed to get her to drink some tea. A single cup of tea, before she finally relented around three in the morning. She finally said that, yes, she should like to go to sleep.
Less, I suspect, because she was tired. Moreso because she wanted to be alone, in the dark, in the quiet. To ease whatever panic was had successfully crept in, grabbed hold of her heart and mind.
I knew that feeling well.
So, with Janelle long gone from my apartment, back to her own family, I changed the sheets on the bed. I made the space as enticing-looking as I could, lit a candle - something that always calmed me - and let her know that she could go in whenever she wanted.
I also laid out a set of my own sleep clothes for her to wear. I had no idea if she'd take advantage of that, but I doubted her current dress would make for a good nightgown.
She thanked me, head down, and went to my bedroom. She closed the door, the lock sounding. Barely audible. I paid it no mind. It sounded as though she didn't want me to know she was locking the door. But why would I have protested? We'd only met one another three times or four times - of course she'd lock the door.
I'd already laid out my own blankets on the couch. In another set of my sleep clothes, I went under the covers and stared at the ceiling.
It was only then that it hit me how incredibly odd this situation was.
I'd know that one of the ballet girls was killed. But now...now it seemed that it hadn't been an isolated incident, if Madame Giry's cryptic words were to be believed. And Madame Giry had gone to take care of the situation. But had not returned.
Which meant something could have happened to her.
Which meant, possibly, that Meg was in even more danger now too.
I sat straight up, staring into the darkness, hearing the soft ticking of the clock that was rapidly approaching four in the morning.
Unless Meg had told many, many people where I lived, then...she was safe. Hidden well. No one would know where she was, if they were looking for her. And even if she had shouted to the world who she'd been seeing, then it wouldn't matter anyway. I'd given her a false name.
I closed my eyes. A good thing I had, then.
I laid back down, clenching my fists. Well, then. Until Madame Giry came to collect her - if she ever did, I amended mentally, heart pounding at the thought's implication - Meg was my responsibility. I was in charge of making sure that she was safe. That was that.
Tomorrow, should she not arrive by noon, I would have Janelle go out to purchase a few sets of women's clothes and undergarments. Toiletry supplies as well. Books, too, that might interest a young woman - if she liked to read. I wasn't sure. I'd have to ask her.
I wondered what Philippe would say.
Oh, God, what would Philippe say?
I gave a small huff, deciding that my brother could kiss my ass. He'd done far more questionable things when it came to people of the female persuasion. Hosting a girl in my apartment was hardly worth mentioning in comparison.
I awoke to the sound of an insistent knock on my front door.
I groaned, eyes still closed. I heard no footsteps in the apartment, so Janelle was likely shopping. I'd have to get the door myself.
I'd managed somehow to flip onto my stomach with one arm behind my head, the limb utterly numb. The blanket had slid to the floor, and there was a distinct puddle of drool on the pillow.
Oh, I was lucky Meg had not come out. And if she had, I was lucky I was too unconscious to see her reaction.
Another knock, and I realized: that could be Madame Giry.
I scrambled to my feet, placing the blanket back on the couch. "One moment!"
"It's us, Raoul!"
The twins.
I groaned a second time. God, not while Meg was here...
Yet unable to change into my day clothes, currently tucked away in the bedroom Meg was still occupying, I'd simply have to answer the door in what I was currently wearing. Wearing sleep trousers, a shirt, and no shoes, I went to the front door, and opened it just wide enough for them to see my face.
Both of them immediately grinned.
"Raoul," said Julien. "I did not think you were one to sleep in. It's nearly noon."
"Julien," I said, "Albert. Now is not a good time."
They looked between themselves. "Everything all right?" asked Albert.
"Raoul?" Meg's voice from somewhere behind me. I cringed - even before I saw the absolute look of shocked delight on their faces.
"Hmm..." said Julien, eyes sparkling. "Not a good time indeed."
"Is my mother here?" her voice called.
"No, dear!" called Albert, grinning. "And we won't tell her - your father, either!"
"Can't wait to tell Philippe, though." Julien was staring at me in a way that made me want to push him off a high balcony. I scowled, though I knew he'd never tattle.
Upon hearing two foreign male voices, she gave a small shriek and I heard the door close again.
"Well, well," mused Albert. "Tongue-tied Raoul managed to win the heart of a woman...and lure her into his bed, no less."
"She - I wasn't-" Tongue-tied indeed.
"We can see you're still dressed for bed," Julien pointed out, roving his blue eyes up and down my form, while I shifted slightly in response. "You're not really going to stand here and tell us that she's in her best while you remained in your sleep clothes."
"She's not here for the reason you are thinking," I said softly, gritting the words out.
"I think thou doth protest too much," he responded, raising an eyebrow.
"Where is her chaperone, then?" asked Albert. "Is it her mother? Father? An uncle, perhaps? Who is this person so unconcerned with your choice of clothing for...what is it, late breakfast? Lunch? What did you have to eat, Raoul?"
"I know what he had to eat," said his brother.
A pause, then both twins sniggered.
I flushed quite red - I could feel the heat in my face.
"It's a bad time," I said again through my teeth. "Come back again in a few days."
"A few days!" hooted Albert.
"My, Raoul - such stamina!" Julien bellowed.
They both burst out laughing - hard this time - and I at last closed the door in their faces.
Their laughter only intensified.
