There had hardly been a need for words to be exchanged; it was mutually agreed between them—and the rest of the château, for that matter—that Lumière and Babette were now courting.
Each morning, they met in the kitchen before Lumière had to run it and shared un petit déjeuner. He would then walk Babette out only to exchange parting kisses that were meant to be brief, but much of the time, were extended beyond what would be defined as "brief." That would be their last embrace until the end of the day—practically ten hours of labor where Lumière led the kitchen staff, played host, and drew up menus daily for galas and events, and Babette attended the Queen hand and foot in everything from her tea service to her toilette. It was after that they met in what became known between them as 'their salon,' located in the servants' wing. Cozy talks and cuddles by the hearth would ensue until curfew… and rather often, a little past.
At best, this routine sated them both for three weeks.
They soon conspired to find pockets throughout the day where they could meet to steal quick trysts. The locations would rotate daily, but they were regularly just inside an empty room in a hall presumed to be vacant at that hour. Luckily, Cogsworth had the maids on such a predictable schedule that it only took Babette refreshing her memory to the maids' routine. She and Lumière made that work… for a while.
One instance had Lumière running late to their scheduled tryst. Five minutes crept into ten, and all the while, Babette kept looking to the clock on the mantel. He'd promised he would make sure cleanup after meals was wrapped up tidily and promptly before having to meet her. What could be keeping him?
Musings of their blissful moments together kept leaking into her forethought. Her hands gripped her apron, though they longed to hold him instead.
The clock's tick-tick-ticking kept going and going to the point where it was deafening—so much so she couldn't take it anymore. Babette abruptly stood and strode out of the parlor.
Jitters kept her nerves alive as she traced the path to the kitchens. The very thought of having to wait a few more hours for another opportunity speared her with anxiety. With each quickened beat of her heart, she lengthened her stride.
Was this what addiction felt like? Was this the very definition of it?
Oh, what did it matter? He thrilled her to no end, he showered her with affection and adoring words, and he made her feel like the one element in his life that he treasured above everything else… And she actually felt the same. To have such feelings be unquestionably confirmed and equally as mutual was something she'd always longed for in theory and thought the epitome of a quintessential relationship, but she couldn't have imagined it would feel this singular. It was the gateway to a heaven on earth.
Was it so wrong to want to bask in it like this?
Babette then heard footsteps coming down the hall and panic shot through her. She stopped in her tracks and her eyes darted around. No doors nearby; only sets of heavy floor-length curtains. With a huff, she had no choice but to duck behind one of them.
She couldn't chance being discovered by anyone or there would be too many questions that she was not keen to answer. But if it was him…
Ever so carefully, she peeked a blue eye out from between the curtains to assess the intruder: The corner of her mouth lifted.
Like a lioness, she posed herself at the ready, and when he was in position, she pounced.
In his surprise, it was hilariously easy to pull him into her hiding place, and before he had even a second to gather his bearings, she had met his mouth fervently with hers.
Her fingers ran up his arms as she stepped closer. Underneath her touch, she felt the tension that had accrued from being snatched out of the corridor dissolve.
Lumière drew her to him with enthusiasm and sighed a laugh against her lips. "So," he spoke between kisses, "I run a little late… and as recompense… you decide to give me a good fright?"
She grinned back, encircling her arms about his shoulders. "I am making up for it, n'est-ce pas?"
When she pressed her body against his, his breath caught, and she beamed wider. "Quite…" he gasped.
He reclaimed her mouth with such tenderness and want, her head buzzed as though she'd drunk four glasses of wine. She swooned under his influence, and though her knees threatened to buckle, his ever-capable arms supported her.
"Vous, là-bas!"
They both jumped at the voice, but when they looked at each other, they were both showing a sign of relief that, though it spoke with authority, it was far too feminine to have been that of the Englishman.
"Come out this instant!" the voice demanded, and Babette and Lumière grimaced at precisely the same time. How was she the one of all people to wander by? Any attempt to sneak away was now utterly futile.
With Babette's consenting nod, followed by a resigned sigh, Lumière moved the curtain aside to reveal them both.
At their undignified appearance, Angélique's furrowed brows rose. Her eyes widened before she groaned and brought her palm to her forehead. "You must be joking…"
"Bonjour to you as well," Lumière said with sarcastic cordiality.
With a roll of her eyes, the decorator iterated, "Oui, we can see you are both very happy and in love, and there is no one more excited for you than I… but why on earth are you having a tryst behind a curtain?" She raised a brow at Lumière. "I thought you had moved past that."
Babette cocked an amused brow up at him as well, a smirk alighting on her features. "No wonder you went along with it so readily, hm?"
His smile matched hers. "That…" he conceded, his hand slipping around her waist. "And the fact that I am very flexible."
Ignoring the maître d', Angélique looked to her. "So it was your idea, then?" She almost snort-laughed as she shook her head, but her grin, though small, indicated her good faith. "You two truly are made for each other."
"I certainly like to think so," Lumière murmured, but his eyes were on Babette, who felt her cheeks grow warm. When he looked at her like that, she could hardly ever be induced to look away.
He leaned in, undoubtedly to confirm Angélique's words, but she immediately chastised with a flutter of her hand, "Non-non-non, I did not give you permission to do that in front of me!" Heaving a sigh, she looked to the ceiling as though to ask it if she were the only one between them with actual sense. "You dorealize it is the middle of the day? Are there not chores and royals you are neglecting?"
Babette stiffened. "We are coordinating our breaks together," she answered a bit more defensively then intended.
Angélique showed her palms. "Fine, but I would not make that"—she circled her finger at the curtains—"a habit. Imagine if I had been Cogsworth."
"I would rather not," Lumière muttered with distaste, but that only made her smile.
Hand at her breast, Angélique assured, "I am only looking out for you. I know you like to claim you have no need for virtues, but in this case, making 'discretion' one would help more than hinder."
Babette had to admit to her having a point. Unfortunately, it completely obliterated her peace of mind.
They continued to have their breaks behind closed doors, as initially planned, but half the time, Babette couldn't relax enough to enjoy herself to the fullest. The trepidation of someone either with authority or the propensity to tattle walking in on them had poisoned her mind, especially when their embraces escalated to where hands were straying to rather forbidden places. All Babette was thinking during those times was for them to be swift, and that was not how she wanted them to be. Quite the opposite!
A fortnight passed and she could no longer take it. Before the day began, Babette plucked Lumière from his way to the kitchen without ceremony, her expression full of determination. "You're coming with me."
Excitement brightened his mischievous gaze. "Gladly, ma coquette…"
She pursed her lips with regret. "Non, chéri… not for that. To talk."
A pout briefly crossed his features, but then a crease settled between his brows. Babette paused at the door to the nearest drawing room to bring him close and console just as he was opening his mouth, "Not about you. About other matters."
She swept them inside and locked the door. Lumière's brow had only cleared a fraction, however, as he took a firmer hold of her hands and guided her to the chaise. "What bothers you? It is not a 'who,' is it?"
Babette's smile was small. "Non, nothing like that."
His thumbs running slow, soothing circles over the tops of her hands gave her pause. She slipped them out of his grasp only to wrap them around his middle and thus, rest her head under his chin.
He didn't question it, but simply enveloped her closer and kissed the top of her head. "Mm, mon petit trésor," he murmured into her hair as he rubbed her back.
She whimpered into his cravat and seemed to speak something, but it was unintelligible.
Lumière sounded like he couldn't help but be amused. "Are you trying to tell me something?"
Babette adjusted her head, but still kept it tucked into the crook of his neck. "I want more." Her hands slowly descended past his waist. "More than this…"
She elicited a shiver from him and heard his heart skip a beat. His voice jumped up an octave as he checked, "You do not mean… now?"
She huffed a laugh. "Unfortunately not…" She pulled away just enough to look up at him to see a mixture of anticipation and relief on face. "But I want it to be soon."
Her fingers traced the neckline of his vest. "I do not know how much longer I can keep from tearing these off of you myself… and the last thing I want to do is ruin your suits."
His chuckle was husky, but his smile broadened. "You… do not know how relieved I am to hear you say that. These… garments, this fabric…" he named with an offended shake of his head. "They are hot, they are stifling…"
His fingers caressed her jaw to tilt it towards him, his voice like the smoothest caramel. "And they feel terribly cumbersome when night falls, do they not?"
"Yes,"she breathed, partly from feeling alleviated, but mostly because her blood was already running hot. One long look at his lips was all the confirmation he needed to close the distance.
Her arms wrapping around his neck, an involuntary moan escaped her as the slow, deliberate ardency of his kiss forced her to bask in it. It triggered all her prior imaginings of them stripping each other bare and becoming so intertwined, they became indiscernible from the other… truly becoming as one.
She parted their lips, her chest heaving, and stared resolutely back at him. "When? Where—how? How can this be done?"
Lumière swallowed, having to catch his breath, too. "Well… meeting in either of our rooms is—"
"—out of the question," they both said together and exchanged a mutual nod. With a head of household like Cogsworth around, a rendezvous to that extent under this roof was far too risky. Nothing short of matrimony would satisfy the stodgy traditionalist, and neither Babette nor Lumière had any interest in pursuing that avenue any time soon.
"We could…" He mulled on it a moment before raising a tentative brow at her. "… sneak out to the tavern in town for the night?"
Babette shook her head right away. "We would still need keys to get back to our rooms."
That look of mischief reappearing, he mentioned, "I have the men's wing key."
She tilted her head in humored awe. "And how did you manage that?"
He tried to shrug modestly, but his smirk gave him away. "That is a long story, but I was able to swipe an imprint of the key and make a copy for myself."
Babette eyed him suspiciously. "And what would prompt you to need a copy?"
Lumière shrugged. "To be able to come and go as I pleased."
"After curfew?"
He did his best to hide his smile at her sudden glare. "As the infamous Élisabeth de Chantemerle, you know quite well that only the best sort of fun happens after curfew."
She pursed her lips. "Fine… But while sneaking something like that off of Cogsworth does not leave me feeling much remorse… sneaking something off of Mrs. Potts?" Babette voiced, cringing.
Lumière sighed sympathetically. "That does not sit well with me either."
A little growl escaped her. "Something like this should not take this much planning and tip-toeing."
"Well… if you had stayed a noble…"
He grinned at her, but she pouted and pinched him on his arm to make him flinch. "That is not funny."
"Simply having the power to command me into submission without any fear of consequence? Even you have to admit, it seems a pretty ideal situation from where we stand."
"True, but… I am fairly certain I don't need my wealth or title to command you into submission."
He mirrored her smug smile. "Touché."
The lack of a solution weighed heavy on her though, as much as she wanted to fight it. With a sigh, she conceded, "I suppose… until we think of a way… we shall have to wait."
Lumière bowed his head to meet with hers. "And we shall be fighting off the agony together, in every other way we know how," he promised before snatching a kiss. "But we will think of something."
Babette didn't trust herself to respond but managed a smile at least. She would take the risk of being caught in a heartbeat in order to be with him in that way… but after everything she'd done to just be by his side, she wasn't about to put any of it in jeopardy. They would need to be discreet and have an excuse to leave the château together for longer than a night to make this happen.
But how?
Later that week, on the first clear, dry day after spells of intermittent rain, Lumière had suggested a walk in the gardens before luncheon, and he didn't plan on being late this time. In fact, he was on his way there a few minutes early when—
"Lumière?"
He somehow withheld from heaving a huge sigh, but it took all of his willpower. A sense of dread crept in. He slowly turned around. "Yes… Cogsworth?"
His eyes landed on the sealed note the majordomo was holding out for him. "The post came, and this one is addressed to both you and Babette," Cogsworth explained, the other letters in a tied bundle under his other arm.
Lumière's shoulders relaxed at seeing it was far from what he had feared. He took it and walked in-stride with Cogsworth as they headed in the same direction down the hall. Eying the letter more closely, he saw precisely why it was addressed to them both: It was from Nicolas.
"Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "I was beginning to think he was purposely making me wait for a response."
Cogsworth raised a brow at him. "Or he could have been preoccupied with his own responsibilities."
The maître d' laughed heartily. "Not to reply to me? Trust me, I know my friend. He is simply a very thoughtful composer of the written word," he lightheartedly put. "He is rather meticulous about it; a bit like how you are about… well, everything."
"If that was meant to be a snub, I'm afraid you've sorely missed your mark," Cogsworth answered tiredly. "That is more a statement of fact, and one I happen to pride myself on rather fondly."
"And that is precisely how I know I did not miss."
Cogsworth scowled at the smirk Lumière wore and rolled his eyes. "And only you would mock another for the diligence and care they take in their pursuits, which begs the question of how you even came to be in the position you're in."
Lumière scoffed. "My sparkling personality, of course. What else could it have been?"
By the shake of his head, the Englishman could clearly detect that this was another showcase of Lumière's theatrics; He was learning!
"Not the descriptor I'd use," Cogsworth noted. "But what I'd use isn't very flattering."
At the majordomo's little smirk of his own, Lumière couldn't help but laugh. "I shall leave that to my own imagination then, though I do not think I would need to think on it long."
Looking self-satisfied, Cogsworth was about to diverge from him at a fork in the hall when he shot a knowing and critical look in his direction. "Do not let that letter and its other addressee detain you for longer than necessary. She is more important than you are now."
Lumière showed his palms in willing surrender. "In all things! And no one knows that better than I do."
With a modest smile and nod, Cogsworth continued on his way while Lumière went his. Upon opening the letter and reading it however, he first stopped in his tracks, then resumed them with more haste than prior, his dazzling smile brightening every bit of his features.
Said co-addressee was sitting on a stone bench in the shade of the looming fortress near its stone steps. If he'd had the awareness, he'd have noticed right then that the air was perfect—crisp and clean, with not a cloud in the sky. And it was oh so fitting for this moment.
"Babette!"
She stood at the call, but he swept her into an enthusiastic, one-armed embrace before she knew what had hit her, and Lumière ended it as quickly as it had happened.
He brandished the opened letter in his hand and announced, "Chérie, our prayers are answered!"
With those big blue eyes wide and long lashes fluttering from his ministrations, she was the most endearing thing he'd ever seen. Her gaze refocused on his words and tried to catch sight of the letters' contents. "Vraiment? Why? What is it?"
"Nicolas' aunt is coming to town: his Tante Victoire. Has he mentioned her to you?"
She blinked as she remembered. "Oui, once… seems like ages ago. He said he would want me to meet her eventually."
"Well, the event has arrived!" With as boisterous as he was being, he managed to drop his tone to something more intimate, his eyes glittering. "And I have a plan…"
Surprising her was one of his greatest joys, but nothing compared to making her smile. With breathless excitement, she whispered, "Do you?"
"On the way to La Bazolle…" Leaning closer, his lips brushed against her cheek and trailed along it little by little. "… we find a comfortable inn for ourselves… and enjoy twenty-four hours… of unadulterated bliss."
As he purred those last words into her ear, he felt the chill fly down her spine. She had to catch her breath. "Lumière?"
"Mm?"
"The... Her Majesty is walking in the gardens as we speak."
Lumière froze but couldn't stifle a deflating sigh. Zut alors, this was ridiculous! True, though it was a long time coming, their romance was still fresh and new, but they were completely justified in wanting to express it; he had no shame in any of that. He couldn't care less how it reflected on him, but his respect for Babette and her position to the queen was the only thing keeping him from continuing his affections so openly. And by all that was holy, he wanted to. He always wanted to.
Before he could utter a word, however, Babette grabbed his hand at her waist and with surprising strength, yanked him toward a round of tall hedges. She made him break into a jog in order to keep up. As they ducked behind their cover, she turned and met him full-force, practically leaping into his embrace, and he very nearly swayed from the hunger of her kiss.
Mon Dieu, this woman was fit to be worshipped.
As he was thinking about how much he would happily get down on his knees for her—as well as what he could do from such a position—the letter in his hand was swiped from his fingers.
"Hmm," she hummed against his mouth before parting from him with a smirk. "Let me see here…" And she turned her back to him to peruse the letter herself.
Lumière wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and hugged her to him. "And not take me at my word?" he murmured at her ear in a mock-offense, and he nipped at her neck in retaliation.
Babette squealed and slapped the hand at her middle as Lumière hushed her; all the while both were trying not to laugh so loud. "Arrêtez! You're going to make me give us away!"
"If they decide to investigate, what they see will be entirely on them," he reasoned with a smugness he knew delighted her, as much as she tried to express otherwise.
"Incorrigible," she muttered, but her smile wasn't inconspicuous enough even from where he stood. She hefted the parchment to read Nicolas' handwriting better. "It says here he wants us at La Bazolle in a couple weeks… Are we able to make that happen?"
"The summer solstice gala has come and gone, and no other major event is planned until August. Our colleagues and Their Majesties can easily do without us for eight days."
"Eight? Nicolas only requests one week."
"That is where my plan comes in…"
Babette turned in his arms to meet his eye. "We are going to request for an extra day… to spend time alone…" Her hands crept up to be behind his neck. "… in an inn… together."
He flicked a mischievous brow at her. "Mm-hmm…"
The look of revelation and gratitude that swept over her heart-shaped face was more than enough, but the sigh before she brought her lips to his was always a welcome show of thanks. He angled his head to encourage her deeper and she never failed to oblige him wholeheartedly.
Just as his fingers were beginning to stray, she paused in her attentions to plead, "Can we make it two?"
Practically beaming now, he replied with emphasis on every syllable, "Absolument…" before resuming their embrace.
"So… neuf jours it is… oh, ma foi, I will be counting the days…"
Lumière brushed a loose strand behind her ear. "And I, the hours…"
He managed to steal a few more kisses before Babette reluctantly released him. "Until tonight, mon amour, but with this news…" She took the hand at her cheek and kissed his palm. "You have made me divinely happy."
"Oh… we shall know divine happiness," he reminded with a beguiling smile. "Very soon."