A/N:There is moderately explicit (though still tasteful) scene that's excluded in this version for those that are more comfortable with just innuendo. If you'd like to read the M-rated version, it's located on Archive of Our Own. Either way, I hope you enjoy!
Babette first went to the Queen for her permission for that brief holiday. All she needed to explain was that she was fulfilling a promise to the Vicomte de Drée, and her mistress granted it to her. After that, requesting the time from Cogsworth was simple… well, for the most part. He thought it curious that the viscount would be inquiring to have Lumière visit again only two months later. Babette said the same thing she told the Queen, and though Cogsworth hemmed and hawed, he did concede to the request, while of course, insisting that they made the necessary arrangements with their fellow staff prior to their departure—nothing that either of them weren't already aware of.
As much as the amorous couple anticipated their trip, the days leading up to it were naturally going to persist as slowly as molasses. Babette had thought she was antsy enough before, but she was practically frantic now. Her strides were longer, her reflexes quicker, and her response time swifter. When the insistent tapping of her heeled foot had caught her mistress's attention, the Queen had even inquired after her well-being, and all Babette could do was laugh and wave her concern off. Curious and concerned glances from the Queen followed her the rest of the day. She couldn't tell if it was excitement or anxiety, but she knew she wanted the day she would become a woman—truly become a woman—to come, and there wasn't a better place for it to happen than in her love's arms.
Even the ever calm and collected Lumière felt a nervous energy inside, though he tried to refrain from showing it. He knew firsthand Babette was experienced in the art of romance, but despite all the rumors that had been spoken about her over the years, there was a threshold she had never allowed herself to cross; her dedication to her family had hindered her from going that far. This only made him admire her more, but somehow, he felt this sense that… he was handling something irreplaceably precious, which he had never done.
Soon after they had reconciled and Babette became a lady's maid to Her Majesty, they had been completely explicit with the other about… everything. She now knew only two women were on his roster, and one had been a long, drawn-out, yet extremely educational affair. His intimate knowledge of the body was derived from it, and while he had been gleaning from it all this time since, the extent of it had laid dormant in the back of his mind until now. He couldn't help but worry: Did he still remember it all… correctly?
It didn't matter that she had never laid with a man so intimately before. With his background, he had set her expectations, and he wanted to please her in a way that he had never wanted to please anyone else he had ever known. Not to mention, he had been fantasizing ever more frequently about what lay beneath the layers of her dresses. He would feel his heartbeat quicken and his breathing become shallow if he imagined it for too long.
But this felt like where they've been heading all along. This felt right.
Then the morning finally arrived.
Lumière was at the stables early helping to saddle the horses. He had even stopped by Babette's quarters to grab her bags—and a good morning kiss—as she was getting ready before heading to his destination. Both their mares, Ciel and Harmonie, were being led out of their stalls when Babette arrived in her riding habit.
When he caught sight of her, he paused in his walk. How fitted and flattering fabric could be on one woman, he felt like he had never been able to comprehend until her. Not to say she didn't look very well in her maid's uniform or bourgeois outfits, but there would always be a distinct difference between what the middle classes wore and the nobility. This, something from her years as a vicomtesse, was no exception.
Ciel nudged him onward with her snout a moment later, almost causing him to lose his balance. He heard a giggle escape Babette's mouth.
"Seems like she is as anxious to be on the road as we are," she noted as she took Harmonie's reins from, and thanked the stableboy.
"I suppose so!" Lumière agreed, giving Ciel a soothing rub and pat on her neck. When Babette had neared, he swept a stray hair behind her ear. "Personally… I am more interested in what comes after."
Her smile grew and her blue eyes sparkled, but she ducked her head just as he saw her cheeks pinken. He bent to try to reach her gaze. "Are you all right?" he murmured softly.
Babette took a heartening breath and nodded, but he still checked, "You can tell me if you are… reconsidering. You know that."
"I do," she answered, lifting her head proudly. "And I am not."
Her hand found his and she squeezed it, abating his nerves while also making his heart palpitate. "Then allow me."
Gripping her hand back firmly, she used him to climb onto her horse, but he didn't let go until he'd placed an adoring kiss across her knuckles. He then hopped on his mare with surprising deftness and announced to her, "Let us ride!"
A coquettish smile graced her lips. "Bien sûr, amour…" And she shook the reins and gently kicked her horse's side to spur it into a healthy canter.
"Oh, no, you don't!" Lumière called as he did the same, enlivened—and frankly, overjoyed—and raced through the castle gates after her.
After they declared Babette the winner of their little race—and she gave Lumière a small "consolation" kiss—they rode side-by-side through the little town of Molyneaux, its fields to follow, and the beautiful countryside.
The designated inn was not ten miles from Château du Lac—a little more than halfway to La Bazolle—but that mileage seemed to double. Granted, Babette wasn't opposed to being on the road with Lumière in the slightest. Though some conversation and the usual banter ensued, companionable silence settled between them for the majority of the time. A part of her didn't mind and was, in fact, relieved by it. The other, however, found it incredibly hard to concentrate on the scenery when explicit imaginings kept popping into her head. Surely, her pent-up… frustration was reaching its climax, but she would be relieved of it soon. She could relax!
The second she convinced herself of this, she glanced over at her beloved, he met her eye, and he flashed her that dashing smile that almost made her swoon out of her saddle. Mon Dieu, where was a fan when she needed one?
Then, after what felt like the entire morning, they approached a town about La Clayette's size, where its center's roads were paved and bourgeoisie of various trades and professions populated the shopfronts and streets. On the end of a line of buildings was one marked Le Cheval Blanc.
Babette's heart skipped as they approached the signage with a horse's head painted white. With the way her thoughts ran amuck, she hardly registered what happened between that moment and walking into the inn with her bag in hand.
Her eyes darted curiously around the modest, quaint, and clean space, and with all the jitters she had coursing through her, the sight gave her some comfort.
Lumière was thanking the inn's proprietor just then, and Babette nodded to her in gratitude as well. His hand came to the middle of her back, guiding her ahead of him, as he whispered their room's location to her. A bit more tentatively than she would have liked, she headed up the stairs to where he had directed until she had reached the door, which he promptly opened for her to enter.
The interior of their room matched that of the first floor: comfortable and snug. Sunlight streamed through the window over a flat desk and chair. A standing mirror was in the corner nearest it, and a dresser, opposite the foot of the neatly made bed.
She paused at the door, her grip still tightly around her bag's handle as Lumière set his beside the dresser. What little comfort she had managed to gain was overcome by nerves—and not the pleasant, excited kind; It suddenly occurred to her how little she had prepared—if she had been able to prepare at all—for the lead into what they intended. It was supposed to be naturally occurring, wasn't it? With no need for forethought, like how they always were with each other! But she had no words, no actions to take. Why was she suddenly drawing a complete and utter blank at such a pivotal moment?
"Babette?"
A warm hand enclosed the one of hers that held her luggage, gently taking it from her grasp, and his soft grey eyes searching her face. "You look… worried."
She tried to laugh at herself, but it came out rather breathy. "I… think I am letting my thoughts get… carried away from me."
Lumière clearly still wanted to hear more, but she didn't know how else to word it without sounding incompetent.
He set down her bag before reclaiming her now empty hand, "Since we first saw this town on the horizon, it seems."
Leading her to the bed, he took a seat, and she followed suit, though with utmost care so that she barely disturbed the bed.
He brought the top of her hand to his lips before covering it. "Talk to me, chérie. Tell me what you are thinking."
Babette bit her lip. "Are you sure you want to know?"
His smile was so sweet, she felt butterflies flutter in her very center. "I always want to know."
She was induced to look away as she blushed but took a breath instead. Her voice incredibly small, she whispered, "I… want everything… to go perfectly. To do… everything right, because… that is what I want for you and… at the very least, it is what you deserve."
At hearing herself, she wanted to run and hide. How much younger and greener could she possibly make herself sound? But after the experience he has had learning about a woman's body in-depth, while her knowledge of a man's hadn't gotten further than an unbuttoning of their trousers in the dark, what else could she offer in this department? And she couldn't fall short; the very thought unnerved her. She couldn't recall having ever had that fear before—not since her string of first kisses at her debut—but it was there now, it was real, and she did not like it.
She settled for hiding her face with her free hand instead and moaned pitifully. "Saying it all aloud made it so much worse!"
"Non-non-non, it didn't, I assure you!" he insisted, and when he removed her hand from her eyes, she saw he was beaming at her. He brushed his thumb along her cheek. "Ma très chère… that is all I want for you, too. And I…" He placed his hand over his heart and sighed. "My only desire is to please you. That has been my sole lot in life since the day I first laid my eyes on you, even if I did not recognize it then. I will not pressure you, and I will not gaud you, nor could I ever possibly think of you any less by what we do, or don't do, while we have this time to ourselves. We are free to do as we please here, whatever that entails."
His thumbs running over her knuckles in smooth circles had the most calming effect on her somehow. "So," he pleasantly and lovingly addressed, "what would you like to do? Take a walk? Relax for a bit? I can grab us something to eat?"
For a long moment, Babette could only stare in pure amazement. He had to be the most patient and understanding man alive. His delicate earnestness toward her left her breathless.
She nodded and somehow managed to find her voice again. "I could eat… something light, s'il te plaît."
Lumière inclined his head most graciously. "As the lady wishes," he happily obliged before kissing her temple. "I'll not be but a moment." He stepped to the door and imparted to her a glance and smile at the door before closing it behind him.
Babette took another deep breath, thankful that she was able to breathe a little easier. She did just want to relax. It had been a hectic and restless couple of months. She was still acclimating to this new life as a servant, after all.
No, she was content to stay in for a few hours.
Walking around the bed, she swept her riding jacket from her person and laid it on top of the desk. In the mirror, she began undoing her white cravat and unbuttoning her habit shirt before working on her skirt, her mind mulling over Lumière's words; they were leaving her awestruck and her heart palpitating all over again. They reminded her of why she felt so ready to take this next step with him. No matter how much he might ache for her, he was never willing to take more than she could give, which only made her want to give him everything she had.
It was true; she was worried about falling short of whatever fantasies he'd conjured for himself about her—just as she had of him—but what she most feared was that he wouldn't even speak to her about them; that he would wordlessly be complacent with her performance without any notes of how to best please him. But if she wasn't pleasing him to the fullest, then what was the point? There was nothing more disappointing than your partner falling short of expectations, even if it was just a kiss, and she was not about to fall short here. Not with him.
But—and she might have simply imagined it… But at her admission to her worries, Lumière had looked so relieved. Was there even a smidgeon of a possibility that he had felt the same insecurity about their rendezvous as her? He even said her happiness was his priority. He had said so before this—had shown it even more times than she could count. How could she have any doubt of it being otherwise?
She took a deep breath as she loosened her stays. Being open about their concerns, asking questions without fear of hurt feelings or misinterpretation, feeling assured that her welfare in this new life was safe and secured, and that her happy ending wasn't temporary… those were all things she still struggled with and worked on every day to be better at. She had to still remind herself it all came with time.
She had removed both boots and was addressing her stockings tied above her knees when the knob turned.
At the sight of Babette with her petticoats hiked up her thighs, Lumière fumbled with the door so it didn't open so wide, yet he managed to balance the tray of food, a bottle of wine, and glasses he had in his hand and under his arm. His wince was pretty close to a smile though. "Vraiment désolé…"
Babette blushed but refused to try to cover herself up in haste; he'd seen what was under her petticoats before. She shook her head, smirking. "No, you're not."
He laughed as he set his spoils on top of the dresser like a makeshift sideboard, but not without a curious glance in her direction. "Getting more comfortable?"
"In the process of it, oui," she affirmed as she pulled off one stocking and tossed it onto the pile of layers beside her on the desk. "With much relief."
He swept off his jacket and walked up to her to lay it with her things. As she began to untie her next stocking, his fingers covered hers.
Blue eyes met grey. "May I?" he offered as politely and unassumingly as taking a guest's coat.
And yet, a thrill ran up her spine. "Of course," she murmured and removed her hand: his only impediment.
He came to kneel before her stockinged leg and, after undoing its ribbon, steadily yet skillfully rolled the silken fabric down, his fingers brushing her leg in the process. Everywhere they touched sent a tiny tremor through her core. It was a shame when the stocking came off.
"Merci," she imparted in as casual of tone as she could manage. Her mind scrambled for something else for him to do with until she felt the boning over her middle. Standing, she asked with a demure smile, "Could you… assist me in this as well? In the back?"
She didn't miss his eyes lighting up a little at that. "Naturally…"
Gathering her hair away from her back, she turned away from him. That excitement she had been reveling in since Nicolas' letter arrived was on the verge of making her tremble. She tried to stem it though, only because she didn't want to start setting expectations for what was to come, or not.
Babette felt his hands working to loosen the ties and listened as they slid undone through each eyelet.
Then she felt his lips brush the back of her neck.
Her breath caught, waiting to see if it was a one-time occurrence. Her stays were soon halfway untied, and she didn't have to wonder long; where her neck met her shoulder, he placed more of his tender affection.
Finally, her stays could come off, which she tossed onto the pile of clothes. His hands lingered on her now freed waist, and with a sigh, she leaned into him. Even while still in her chemise, his touch was divine.
He resumed his trail up her neck, and she basked in the sensations he was awakening in her. As he reached her jaw, she turned her head to meet his lips with hers. Slow and shallow at first, their kiss deepened, and his hold on her tightened.
Her hands now itching to feel him back, she spun in his grasp to face him and began untying his cravat. She felt his fingers leave her, but only to begin unbuttoning his vest. Where they both threw his clothes, neither spared any more concern.
Their fervency to rid each other of their layers matched that of their kiss. Babette reached behind her to quickly undo the tie holding up her last petticoat, Lumière had pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor. Now all that remained were his trousers and her chemise.
Breathing heavily, and at the precipice of disrobing, they came to a standstill. Her eyes then drifted down his shoulders, bare chest, and arms. He was thin compared to most, but certainly not scrawny, even having been a domestic servant all his life. They took walks and rides together, and he'd even told her he learned how to fence from Nicolas passing down his lessons to him. Besides, she knew better than anyone how safe and strong his arms really were.
Another matter was… he reminded her of the smooth and bare Roman sculptures on display in the galleries she'd been privy to wander through—given who she used to associate with—but she hadn't been allowed to touch those.
Her hands shook a little as she caressed the skin along his shoulders, down his torso, and around his ribs until she was embracing him, burying her face into his neck. "You're still… so warm," she marveled.
Lumière laughed softly into her hair and rubbed her back. "How could I not be? I cannot tell you the number of times you left me so unbearably hot under the collar. This is no exception."
She pouted. "I wish I'd have known. I would have helped."
"Believe me, I would have gladly undressed for you before this."
Babette heard the unspoken ending to his words. She lifted her head and, seeing his love deeply set within his gaze, she captured his mouth for another kiss. Her fingers slid down to the top buttons of his trousers.
Lumière's breath hitched. "Babette?"
She opened her eyes to see his earnest, almost pleading stare. He took her cheek in one of his hands. "You are… absolutely certain? I could not bear it if…" His sigh was strangled. "… if I forced this too soon… before you were ready."
Each pound of her heart screamed for this man. "I am more than ready," she declared. "There is nothing I want more than to know you… completely."
A tremor went through him, and he balled the fabric of her chemise under his hand. "Please," he whispered with an urgency that lit a match in her belly."Say I may."
She couldn't comprehend how she had the faculty, but she gave him a coquettish smile and resumed on his trousers. "You first."
His mouth hungrily captured hers and it took all her willpower to maintain her task. The minute his trousers fell to the floor, they stopped.
Babette's hand swept his arm to take his hand before she took a step back to appraise him with eager eyes. What she saw made her weak at the knees. Now he fit the description of a Roman statue, only… she had never seen any sculptor be so generous nor daring with their creation's endowments, which stood at apt attention. The fact that she had aroused that in him filled her with as much want as a sense of pride.
Her breathing suddenly turned shallow. "Have I… ever told you… how irresistibly handsome I find you?"
A laugh escaped him, but his relief at her reaction was apparent. He shrugged a shoulder, that lopsided smirk of his alive and well. "Once or twice. But you could stand to mention it more."
She cocked her brow at him, teasing, "And feed monsieur's ego until it's full to bursting? I have a right to have my reservations."
His voice dropped to a husky timbre that practically made her pounce. "I'll make it worth your while…"
Her smile widened as her hands went to the ties at her chest. "Promises, promises…"
She watched his eyes drop to where her fingers almost painstakingly loosened the knot. The way he watched her was something she had to revel in. Feeling coy, she brushed the shoulders of her chemise down and let it slide down her figure to pool at her feet.
Lumière's eyes flitted over her from head to toe, breathless awe dawning on his face. He carefully closed the distance, and until he touched her curved hips, Babette hadn't realized she had been holding her breath. "Mon Dieu…" he sighed, and his fingers trailed up her slim waist to caress an ample breast. "Or… should I say… ma déese?"
Her insides shook like that of a hummingbird's wing. The mischievous look he wore made heat rush to her loins as well as her cheeks, but she shook her head and chastised with a smile, "Viens, that is one tease too many."
He balked playfully, but then caught himself. "Oh… look how she blushes," he noted with delight and dotted her flushed cheeks with pecks. "The lady is modest after all!"
Giggles escaped her. "Of course, I am!" she scoffed with playful haughtiness. "I may let you shower me with pretty words, but I never let them go to my head. What kind of well-bred woman would I be?"
He pouted his lips in thought and innocently posed, "It wouldn't be… the kind that sneaks away to an inn with their irresistibly handsome suitor for a salacious rendezvous… would it?"
She gasped, but with him wiggling his brows at her, she had to do all she could not to laugh. "Oh monsieur, now you have crossed a line!" she managed to say before he picked up where he'd left off at her jaw.
"That is… precisely… what I intend… to do," he murmured between nips down her neck, a smirk distinctly in his tone. "Many times over…"
The first feeling Lumière registered as he awoke the next morning was him being in the exact same place he had fallen asleep in: On his side, holding his love close.
He'd predicted that after a couple hours of tumbling in the sheets, they would come to a natural respite and decide to spend the rest of the day enjoying the clear skies and sunshine just outside their window. Eventually, they did redress to eat dinner downstairs, but… that was all. The thought to leave their room prior to then had never occurred to them. The only pauses they'd allowed were for him to recover and perhaps for both to nibble and sip here and there on the sustenance and wine he'd brought up when they'd first arrived. They had spent nearly an entire day in bed.
And it had been…
He took a deep breath, taking in the lavender and honey scent of her hair, and thoughts of them—her earnest desire to please him, their delicious wrestling for dominance, how incredible and willing of a sport she was—flooded his mind. He had come to possess the love of Aphrodite incarnate, and they had found… an oasis.
However, the aching contraction of his stomach reminded him that he had been putting off a supposedly vital necessity. Bed was comfortable enough on its own, but beside the warmth of the most radiant woman in all of France? How could food possibly be of any consequence whatsoever?
But if he was hungry, Babette would be as well, and just as much.
Opening his eyes, he carefully arose to see her still soundly asleep, but he couldn't withhold from placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder before regretfully leaving the bed.
He quietly dressed in just enough clothes to be considered proper. With shoes in hand, so his feet didn't clack on any of the wood floor, he paused at the door to watch her beautiful form in such peaceful slumber. He had to remind himself he would only be gone a moment.
But what if she happened to awake while he was downstairs? Should he write a quick note for her?
Just as he was stepping back to the desk to painstakingly look through its drawers for a scrap of parchment and ink, Babette began to stir. Before she even opened her eyes, she turned onto her back and her hand lazily swept the side of the bed he'd vacated.
His heart now full to bursting, he was approaching the bed when she opened her eyes to search for him. When they found him, a sleepy grin graced her face. "Bon matin, mon chevalier."
He took a seat on the edge of the bed, smiling back at the mention of the roles they had played with the night before. "Bon matin, ma maîtresse."
Her eyes traveled him up and down his more modestly dressed person and she raised a thin brow. "Why do you look like you have somewhere to go?"
"Because without shirt or shoes, I will receive no service," he explained with teasing exasperation.
Her teeth played on her bottom lip as her smile grew. "Why go down there when you can receive my services…" She smoothly sat up, the blanket at her chest slipping down to expose what has become two of his favorite things overnight. "… no clothing required?"
A small groan of want arose in his throat without warning and he had to call upon all his self-control to rein in his ravenous libido. "I will… very happily accept your offer," he managed to say and placated them both with a tender kiss. "But only once I snatch something from the kitchens to sustain us both for a little while." He'd tried to stay his hands, but they slipped around her waist of their own accord. "Then… we can resume from that… most satisfying conclusion last night."
Her smile widened as she dabbled in his soft kisses. "I suppose… one of us… must be practical."
"Such a cross to bear," he murmured forebodingly, and an airy giggle escaped her. He ran his fingers lightly through her chocolate tresses as he asked, "After another… marvelously pleasurable conclusion, what would you say to getting some fresh air?"
She pursed her lips in thoughtful debate. "I would say…" A corner of her mouth lifted and she tilted her head, her expression hopeful. "Could we not simply open a window instead?"
He heartily chuckled at that and kissed her soundly. "Oh, ma chérie… I do not know how I could be more in love with you than I already am, but you continue to amaze."
She inclined her head most benevolently. "Means I am doing something right," she mimicked in that coquettish way of hers.
"And we will savor every moment we have left," he promised, "and endeavor to establish another opportunity as soon as we are able."
Babette winced. "Is it horrible of me that I am considering making a copy of Mrs. Potts's key after all of this?"
His brows flew up in astonishment, a highly amused smile on his mouth, and she ducked her head as she laughed. "Well, well, well… so I have succeeded in corrupting you!"
"Oui, but long before this, cher," she corrected, giggling again. "I would never, truly, but… after trying the forbidden fruit, the temptation is quite strong."
"You have stolen the words from my mouth," he sighed.
She mused on the thought before innocently posing, "Maybe… at La Bazolle, we can ask to have our rooms near to one another?"
He cocked a humored brow as he considered it, but he was also enlivened she craved for this delicious kind of intimacy as much as he did. "If they do not put us in the same hall at first… I am sure they could grant us that request."
Her smile was more welcome than the sun coming out after rain. Her shoulders relaxed at his words. "Bon. We shall simply be… discreet and timely."
"Naturally…" he concurred and granted her one last peck or two before he stood. "I will return bearing gifts."
"Indeed, you will," she purred.
She laid back down and secured herself under the blankets once more, and all that was occurring to Lumière in that instant was: "Je t'aime… de tout mon cœur."
Babette hugged the pillow at her head and beamed up at him. "Et je t'adore de tout mon âme."
A/N: My many thanks to beta LovelyLadyAllie who taught me the do's and don't's of writing good quality steam, alongside all the ladies of the Enchanted Rose Discord server/the forum, Bittersweet & Strange. You're all a cut above the rest!