Disclaimer: Crimson Peak is Guillermo Del Toro's property, Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke, The Lodgers to Brian O'Malley. Emma, Constance and I are self-inserts. The old lady from Camden Market belongs to Chibimelodee.
Summary: Ghosts are real and everything happens for a reason. Is this why Marina and her friends find themselves trapped in Allerdale Hall a few days away from Christmas?
Author's note: This story was written for me by « Emma » and « Constance » from Chibimelodee as an Advent Calendar two years ago. Please note that all three of us are french and while we do know our way around English, we might still make some mistakes. Feel free to let us know! As the three girls are french and start to speak from this chapter, I'll put the translations of their sentences right next to them so you know what they say.
At the Candlelight
Chapter 11 : Pyjamas' party
Sam laughed as he sat down on the creaking bed of the bedroom they would share :
« Dude, I never saw you so smitten with someone… »
The three hunters had agreed to stay in the same room and take shifts in case a vengeful spirit would crazily decide to attack them at night. So, they shared a small bedroom with two small beds which looked far from inviting.
« I can't help myself » Dean shrugged before he sat down too, creating a huge cloud of dust before he took his gun out to polish it as he coughed lightly. « It's like... I don't know how to say it... I just need to be around her, you know... to touch her... to feel her... »
« Well, as I said earlier, she is your zing » Sean sighed, making the hunters jumped, his apparition in the bedroom unnoticed and silent. « It's a special feeling... It only happens when one person meets his or her soulmate, the person they will spend eternity with forever »
« A zing ? » Sam exclaimed with a laugh. « Let me guess, Castiel showed you Netflix ! Man, you're completely addicted to that thing, you Angels… Don't you have an expression a little more, I don't know, angelic to talk about a « zing » ? Something a little more Enochian ? »
Sean shrugged, his face red, feeling like he was a young child being caught red-handed. Dean took a time to think about what the Angel had said, making an adorable little pout with his mouth. Shaking his approval, he began to polish harder, a huge goofy smile on his face.
« Do you think I'm a natural born idijt ? » Bobby asked to the Angel. « Soulmates, huh ? Soulmates don't exist ! If they do, then it's a hell of a well-kept secret ! And don't serve me your crap about true love magic, Cupid ! »
« Don't patronize soulmates, Bobby ! » Dean exclaimed, shocked by his father-figure reaction. « If you felt what I'm feeling... Well,
I can feel her heart beat from a thousand miles
And the heavens open every time she smiles
I'm running to her that's where I belong
I'm running to her like a rivers song
She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love
Shes got a fine sense of humor when I'm feeling down
And I'm running to her when the sun goes down
She takes away my trouble, she take away my grief
She takes away my heartache, and I go right to sleep
She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love »
« Then why the hell did my wife, my soulmate, had to die at my own hands ? Twice ! » Bobby exploded, his grief coming out in anger. « And don't fucking tell me God works in mysterious ways ! I had this... zing... you're talking about and she was snatched away from me. How is it fair to separate two soulmates ? Do you know how it feels to be the only one whose left ? »
Sean shamefully dropped his head, acting like a child being lectured, patiently waiting for the old man to calm down by himself. The Angel knew by now everything happened for a reason but for now, the best thing for Bobby was to let his anger out so he could lighten his heavy heart. Sean actually knew all this... Well, he thought he knew... since he had learnt about the zing when he had become an angel, he had truly thought Rachel was his. He had thought for so many years they truly had shared a zing. But, meeting this strange little French woman had changed every belief he had. The way he needed to be in the same room as her... the feeling of his long-time dead heart coming to life when she was touching him... how his breath caught in his throat when she looked at him... Maybe he had been wrong... maybe Rachel had not been the one for him... and maybe, just maybe, there was another one waiting to teach him the true meaning of the word love.
She walks like an angel walks,
She talks like an angel talks,
And her hair has a kind of curl,
To my mind, she's my kind of girl.
She's wise like an angel's wise,
With eyes like an angel's eyes,
And a smile like a kind of pearl,
To my mind, she's my kind of girl.
« Her sister's pretty... » Sam cut the awkward silence that had appeared after the outburst of Bobby.
« Not you too... » the old hunter mumbled between his teeth before shoving Sam out of the bed to lay down and pretend to sleep.
The tall man shrugged and went to sit next to his brother, awkwardly ruffling his long hair, mumbling.
« How that « you too » ? I only said she's pretty… »
« Two sisters for two brothers » Dean laughed. « Who would have thought ? Good luck to understand your crazy doll ! »
« I'm not... » Sam nervously answered. « It's not... She's not crazy ! »
« Come of ! Cut off the crap Sammy ! » his brother playfully winked. « I saw how you look at her... and the way you react when she mentions that Thomas ghost... Pretty sure you two didn't zing like I did but... who knows ? And I can assure you she got quite a punch ! » Dean added, stroking dramatically his jaw as if it was still painful to illustrate his saying.
« Who knows ? » Sam repeated dreamily, a sly grin appearing on his face as he thought about the way she had introduced herself to his brother.
Oh, what a girl ! Bobby grumbled something incomprehensible, clearly wanting a bit of silence in order to get some sleep.
Thomas's shape slowly faded away from his hiding. The discussion he had spied truly made him sick. Clearly, the two American brothers were the worst, especially the tallest one. Who did he think he was to try to steal his Constance from him ? It must be the Sam Emma had been speaking about. This Sam Emma found perfect for her sister… He didn't know exactly what he was supposed to do, but he knew, he had to act… and fast ! Before Constance would discover the awful secret he was trying the best he could to hide… Before she'll see him too as everybody saw him… A monster ! He had to win her heart before everything would be revealed… Before everything would be destroyed…
If only he succeded to show himself worthy of her affection, then maybe everything could be different this time. He nourished the stupid hope that Constance could see the man he truly was, the man he tried to be for her… Far away from the horror, from the darkness and from blood… She was different from the others, different than Edith… She would know how to forgive his past errors and love the man he now was.
Wasn't she worried about him ? Hadn't she snuggle in his arms ?...
He absolutely needed to see her, to assure him she was his and only his… He needed to assure that nothing would be put between them… nor his past, nor his sister, nor her sister and especially not this Sam !
« Allez, Constance » Emma pouted adorably, jumping on the soft bed. « Ne me dis pas que tu le trouves pas craquant… »
(Come on, Constance, don't tell me you don't find him cute!)
« Que veux-tu que je te dise ? » her sister shrugged. « C'est juste pas mon type… »
(What do you want me to say ? He's just not my type.)
« Laisse-moi deviner » Emma pretended to think hard. « Ton type c'est : teint blanchâtre, cheveux blancs, mort de préférence, avec une blessure sur la joue gauche ?... Ah, et j'oubliais, le sang qui coule dans le mauvais sens… »
(Let me guess, your type is : whitish complexion, white hair, preferably dead with an injury on the left cheek ? Oh, and I forgot, with blood flowing out the wrong way...)
Constance playfully slapped her sister's arm while Marina was laughing quietly. The profound sisterly-bond between this two was sometimes truly amazing to watch. Emma laughed heartedly, humming the « Ouh, la menteuse » theme. Putting out her tongue, the youngest sibling avoided another playful slap.
« En tout cas, moi, j'ai passé plus de temps avec lui que toi avec ce… Dean ! » Constance smirked, making her sister blushed. « C'est vrai ! Tu ne le connais que depuis quelques heures et tu es déjà là à lui faire des câlins et des yeux doux et… »
(Well, at least, I spent more time with him than you with that Dean ! It's true, you've known him for only a few hours and you are already hugging him and making eyes at him and...)
Emma rolled her eyes before laying down on the mattress, her dreamy eyes lost on the wooden ceiling. She sighed, a goofy smile on her full lips.
« Ce n'est pas comme si tu étais sur le point d'embrasser ton petit Baron Sanglant… »
(It's not as if you were about to kiss your small bloody baron...)
« Oui et j'aurais préféré que tu ne nous interrompes pas ! » Constance mumbled.
(Yeah and I would have prefered for you not interrupting us!)
Her sister continued like she didn't hear a thing :
« De plus, tu ne le connais même pas depuis 24 heures et je ne sais même pas si un rêve peut compter ! Et pour ce qui est de Dean et moi, je ne peux pas m'en empêcher… Il est juste parfait… Tu as vu ses yeux ? Je veux dire, vraiment vu ses yeux ?... Il a les yeux d'un vert si… avec des éclairs de marron tellement… C'est comme regarder une forêt enchantée… Et son sourire… Il est tellement… Il est…
(Besides, you've only known him for twenty-four hours and I don't even know if a dream can count ! And regarding Dean and I, I can't help it ! He's just perfect... Have you seen his eyes ? I mean, did you really see his eyes ? They're such a green... with such brown reflections and... It's like looking into an enchanted forest and... His smile, he's so... he's...)
Il est beau comme le soleil
Ma merveille, mon homme a moi
Il me prendra dans ses bras
Et pour la vie, il m'aimera
Il est beau comme le soleil
Ma merveille, mon homme a moi
Il est beau comme le soleil
Beau comme le soleil »
Constance rolled her eyes while Marina was lost on her own thoughts, all focused on a certain blue-eyes angel.
« Sérieusement, Emma ? » her sister sighed. « Tu ne sais même pas qui est ce type, si ce n'est que c'est un dingue de la gâchette ! Toi qui cherchais un psychopathe, tu as fini par en trouver un ! »
(Seriously Emma ? You don't even know who that guy is except he's a madman who likes his gun ! You who were looking for a psychopath, you found one in the end!)
« Non mais t'as un peux vu ton Baronnet ? Je ne sais pas ce qui a pu le mettre dans un état pareil, mais il a forcément dû faire un truc pas net pour mourir comme ça ! » Emma interjected bitterly, pointing a threatening finger towards her sister.
(Have you seen your baronet? I don't know what could have put him in such a state but he certainly must have done something shady to die this way!)
« Sa sœur… C'est sa sœur qui l'a tué ! » Constance replied, trying hard not to show her uncertainty and her doubts…
(His sister... It's his sister who killed him!)
Of course, she was asking herself what could have happened for his sister, this Lucille, to come to this extremity and the fact the refused to explain her the reason of his death didn't really reassure her.
« Dans ce cas, je parie qu'il ne devait pas être un frère particulièrement aimant ! » Emma retorted while shrugging before adressing a triumphal smile to her sister, her eyes shining with a mishievious spark : « Ce qui n'est pas le cas de Dean qui a l'air d'être très proche de son frère. Lui et Sam ont l'air de très bien s'entendre. Que veux-tu que je te dise, Dean est vraiment l'homme parfait pour moi ! Près de lui, je me sens en sécurité… Ne me demande pas comment je le sais mais, il ne me ferait jamais le moindre mal… Un seul regard et il a tout chamboulé ! Un vrai coup de foudre ! »
(In that case, I bet he wasn't a particularly living brother ! This isn't Dean's case as he looks quite close to his brother. He and Sam seem to get on really well. What do you want me to say, Dean really is the perfect guy for me ! Near him, I feel safe... Don't ask me how I know it but I know he would never hurt me... One gaze and he turned everything upside down... True love at first sight case!)
Constance was about to retort something when she looked deep down in her sibling's eyes and she understood. Emma had found true love and no one could ever make her coming down soon. And by the looks of Marina, she was exactly the same.
« Et toi, Marina ? » the eldest woman asked, wanting nothing more to talk about anything but this berserk American and his brother. « Tu as aussi eu un coup de cœur tout à l'heure… N'est-ce pas ?... L'Ange Irlandais si je ne me trompe pas… »
(What about you, Marina ? You too had a crush earlier, didn't you ? The Irish angel if I am not mistaken...)
« Je… Je… » the youngest of the three blushed furiously, trying to hide it by hiding her face with a pillow. « C'est vrai que… je n'ai qu'une envie, c'est qu'il se sente bien… Il est tellement timide et… Enfin, tu sais… Il a promis de me protéger… C'est tellement romantique ! »
(I... I... It's true I only have one wish and it's for him to feel okay. He's so shy and... Well, you know, he promised to keep me safe, that's so romantic!)
I've read more than a hundred books
Seen love mentioned many thousand times
But despite all the places I've looked
It's still no clearer it's just not enough
I'm still no nearer the meaning of love
Noted down all my observations
Spent an evening watching television
Still I couldn't say with precision
Know it's a feeling and it comes from above
But what's the meaning, the meaning of love?
The meaning of love
Tell me the meaning of love
From the notes that I've made so far
Love seems something like wanting a scar
But I could be wrong, I'm just not sure you see,
I've never been in love before
« Marina est amoureuse ! » Emma giggled. Her friend elbowed her in the ribs, laughing like nothing bad had ever happened.
(Marina's in love!)
Like no ghosts were waiting for them in the corridor. Like the Apocalypse was not at arm reach. Like the fate of humanity was in their hands. Like they were just three girls on a regular journey.
« Je sais pas ce que je ressens ! » Marina finally said. « On peut pas tomber amoureux en un claquement de doigts…N'est-ce pas ? »
(I don't know what I'm feeling ! You can't fall in love in a snap, can you?)
Emma sighed dreamily, her eyes lost in her thoughts. Constance blushed and let herself dropped, laying near her sister. All of this was weird. But, despite her fears of ghosts, the youngest couldn't seem to think about anything else but Sean. How his touch, his breath on her neck, his eyes on her made her feel dizzy. The need she felt to protect him seemed to be the same as the need he felt to protect her. In a way, she knew she would always belong at his side. But he was so hard to read. She wanted to know every little thought he had on the pretty little head of his. She wanted to know everything about him and for him to know everything about her. But it was too soon. Her feelings were overwhelming her.
The three girls were all lost in her thoughts, each one dreaming awake of their newfound soon-to-be men. Emma smiled goofily before snapping her head up and gazing at her sister. She propped on her elbow and whispered :
« Alors ma chère soeur, on rêve de son fantôme psychopathe adoré ? »
(So, dearest sister, you're dreaming of your adored psychopathic ghost?)
« Ce n'est PAS un MON fantôme psychopathe ! » Constance yelled softly. « Et puis... ». Her voice stopped as she was lost again, the memory of two beautiful blue eyes dancing before her.
(He's not my psychopathic ghost! And...)
« Ouaip ! T'as carrément craqué dessus ! Mais il est mort, Constance... Mort ! Et en plus, je n'ai absolument aucune confiance en lui… Je suis sûre qu'il cache un truc pas net ! » Emma tried to reason her, embracing her in a hug.
(Yep, you are totally into him! But he's dead, Constance, dead! Besides, I absolutely do not trust him! I'm sure he's hiding something weird!)
« Ben quoi... Personne n'est parfait ! Vous croyez que les vôtres sont mieux ? » The eldest laughed bitterly. "Un ange et Docteur la Peluche ? Sérieux ? »
(What? Nobody's perfect! You think yours are better? An angel and Doc MacStuffins? Seriously?)
« Emma n'a pas tort » Marina whispered, her head down as if she didn't dare to look into Constance's eyes. « Tu ne peux même pas le toucher... c'est un peu insensé de tomber amoureuse d'un fantôme... Quel genre d'avenir pourrais-tu avoir avec lui ?... »
(Emma's not wrong, you can't even touch him. Isn't it a bit insane to fall in love with a ghost? What kind of future could you have with him?)
Constance's eyes began to water, her friend's words meaning more to her than she dared to declare. Emma still had her in a comfortable embrace, gently patting her back.
« Pourquoi ne pas plutôt aller avec quelqu'un dont le coeur est bien vivant ?... » She asked softly. « Je sais pas, moi... Quelqu'un de grand, fort avec des cheveux longs et... »
(How about going for someone whose heart's quite alive? I don't know, maybe someone tall, strong, with long hair and...)
« Tu es complètement folle ! » Constance retorted, frowning slightly. « C'est vraiment pas mon type et puis... Ça ferait pas un peu cliché deux soeurs avec deux frères ? »
(You are completely crazy ! He isn't really my type and wouldn't it be a bit cliché, two sisters with two brothers?)
The two friends laughed before the eldest continued :
« Je ne sais pas comment décrire ce que je ressens quand je suis avec Thomas... J'ai l'impression de le connaître depuis toujours… ou plutôt comme si une part de moi le connaissait… comme si je venais de le retrouver après une longue séparation… C'est compliqué et complètement insensé ! C'est vrai que c'est un fantôme mais quand il est près de moi, je me sens... en sécurité... et, pour être franche, mon coeur bat tellement vite qu'il peut nous servir à deux... »
(I don't know how to describe how I feel when I'm with Thomas. I feel like I've known him since the start of time... or as if a part of me knew him. As if I had reunited with him after a long separation. It's complicated and completely insane ! It's true he's a ghost but when he's near me, I feel safe and to be frank, my heart beats so fast it can work for us both.)
They all sighed, for obvious different reasons. Constance with her memory of the time Thomas and her had shared. Marina with the hope that Sean would feel that way about her. Emma with the deception to see her sister falling head over heels for a bloody ghost.
« Mais, Constance... Comment vous faites pour vous comprendre ? C'est un anglais et tu... »
(But, Constance, how do you understand each other ? He's British and you...)
« Il comprend le français et je comprends l'anglais » Constance cut and chuckled. « Et cet argument n'est pas valide si tu veux me caser avec la grande asperge vivante ! »
(He understands French and I understand English. This argument isn't valid if you want to hook me up with the tall live asparagus!)
Marina nodded, amused before she spoke.
« Constance n'a pas tort... on ne peut pas contrôler son coeur et ses émotions... mais promets nous d'être prudente. C'est un fantôme après tout et il nous a VRAIMENT attaquées dans le grenier ! »
(Constance isn't wrong, you can control your heart and its emotions but promise us to be careful ! He's a ghost and he really did attack us in the attic!)
« Je pensais qu'on en avait fini avec cette histoire d'attaque fantomatique… Thomas essayait de vous défendre contre cette… Pamela… »
(I thought we were done with the ghostly attack story ! Thomas was trying to defend you from this Pamela!)
Constance bit nervously her lower lip.
« Jamais je n'aurais pensé un jour ressentir ce qu'il me fait ressentir... c'est comme si j'avais trouvé un autre fragment de mon âme en lui... » She ruffled her hair, unsure how to express her feelings. « C'est dingue, non ? Je n'étais sûre de rien quand il m'est apparu en rêve mais... ».
(I would have never thought I'd feel the way he makes me feel. It's as if I had found another piece of my soul in him. It's crazy, isn't it? I wasn't sure of anything when he appeared to me in my dream but...)
Diving in her suitcase, she got out her notebook and began to search frenetically through the pages before sighing.
« Je voulais faire une surprise à Marina en dessinant les moments les plus importants de notre voyage et... » Her voice trailed, a faint blushing coloring her cheeks. « Je n'ai pas pu m'empêcher de le dessiner après l'avoir vu la première fois... »
(I wanted to make a surprise for Marina by drawing the most important moments of our trip. I couldn't help drawing him after the first time I saw him...)
She slowly showed a perfect drawing of Thomas, elegantly dressed, his eyes lovely looking at something. No injuries. No white weird looking. It was like he was alive again, and not a ghost of his former self. He stood tall, a perfect representation of a gentleman who inspired only respect and warm feelings instead of dread fear. Marina and Emma had to admit that, without his ghostly appearance, they could see how Constance had fallen for him… Not that they would admit it to her ! On the corner of the page was writing elegantly some sentences, which Constance whispered softly, unable to look away from her drawing.
« And there's no remedy for memory your face
Is like a melody, it won't leave my head
Your soul is hunting me and telling me
That everything is fine
But I wish I was dead »
A gush of cold air made the three women shivered and winced. Looking up from the notebook, they shrieked in surprise, facing again the ghost of the former owner of the house. Strangely, Emma directly noticed that the wound on his cheek has disappeared, all traces of blood had vanished from his ancient suit. Gone was the scary ghost with a murderous look on his face. Instead, there was just a... depressive ghost ? He only appeared to have eyes for Constance, who, relieved, smiled shyly at him.
« Depuis quand est-ce que vous êtes là ? » she asked, her voice creaking with uncertainty.
(Since when are you here?)
If it was one thing she was sure about, it was that she didn't want him to know how she felt about him. It was too soon. Much too soon.
« Your little poem » he answered, blushing.
Marina had to repress a giggle to escape her lips. She had no idea a ghost could actually blush !
« You have a very good writing style… Except for the last part… Please don't tell me you actually have that kind of thought… » he continued, staring deep in Constance's eyes.
« How very Lana Del Rey of her ! Don't worry, lover boy, she always overexaggerate everything ! » Emma burst out of laughter.
Her older sister looked at her with disbelief, shaking her head, pouting.
« I'm pretty sure her name is not Lana del Rey nor Ravenswood » Thomas replied, staring questionably at the strange younger sister before returning his heated glaze on the object of his affection.
He smiled tenderly at the young woman and bent toward her. Marina noticed Emma ready to pounce on him, the fit of rage melted to a violent impulse of protectiveness for her sister and decided to intervene before her friend could. Her voice, sharper than she would have wished, ended the silence :
« Why are you here ? Sir… Sharpe ! »
« Thomas… You can call me Thomas, Miss ! » The Baronet answered, a charming grin on hi slips, turning slowly towards the youngest of the three friends.
He was decided to keep Constance near him and this young lady didn't seem as hostile as the sister with pink hair. Any help would be greatly appreciated to chase away these American hunters.
« I thought you would certainly need help to light the fire in the fireplace… and Constance had asked me something earlier today… »
He made appear out of thin air a small metallic box, clearly old and yet prettily made. Marina and Emma turned towards the eldest who stared at the ghost with interrogating eyes. Apparently, she didn't seem to know what she could have asked for. She took the given box, thanking him while blushing and he went to the fireplace to light the fire. Constance stared at the metallic item for a while, admiring the bucolic pictures delicately painted on it, before she slowly opened it. A smile lit her face and warmed Thomas' heart far more than the flames he just had lit.
« Oh Thomas ! You didn't have to ! It's really sweet ! »
Emma ran off and glimpsed in the bax before she burst out of laughing :
« Really ! You didn't have to, you big romantic ! »
Marina came closer to her friends, truly curious now :
« What did you ask him, Constance ? »
The Baronet rose up, smiling with pride :
« Caramels, bonbons et chocolats ! »
(Caramels, sweets and chocolates!)
Marina turned to her friend with disbelief :
« Tu rencontres le fantôme d'un baronnet mort depuis plus d'un siècle et la première chose que tu lui demandes, c'est des bonbons ! »
(You're meeting the ghost of a baronet dead over a century and the first thing you ask him are sweets?!)
Constance's cheeks blushed slightly and she mumbled :
« En fait, je n'ai pas vraiment… »
(Actually, I didn't really...)
Emma grabbed suddenly her sister by the sleeve of her nightgown –who could have thought this old lacey thing could be so useful ? – caught a candy she quickly put in her mouth before saying with a Belgian accent :
« Mais Marina ! C'est trop mignon ! Il lui a apporté des bonbons,
(But Marina, it's so cute, he brought her sweets...)
parce que les fleurs c'est périssable.
Puis les bonbons c'est tellement bon,
bien que les fleurs soient plus présentables,
surtout quand elles sont en boutons... »
Thomas stared the two sisters, an eyebrow raised, his mouth slightly open by the surprise, beginning to question the sanity of the pink-haired woman when Constance giggled, sending delightful shivers to his soul. The spark of joy in her eyes made him feel light-headed. He took a step near her, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of her skin under his cold fingers. But he was abruptly stopped by her young sister who came between them, stopping Constance too from coming closer to him :
« Off you go now, Jacques Brel... this is a girl's night... which means : no man allowed ! »
« I beg your pardon but you're currently staying in MY bedroom... » he answered between clenched teeth, trying to stay a gentleman, even if this little woman was particularly unnerving. « Furthermore, my name is Sir Thomas Sharpe and NOT Jacques Brel! »
« Et je rajouterais qu'il ne s'appelle pas non plus Alain Delon » Constance chuckled.
(And I'd add his name isn't Alain Delon either!)
The young woman tried to skirt her sister a few times to go to the Baronet, finding herself blocked each time by Emma. She cleared her throat and said calmly and yet firmly :
« J'aimerais passer Em, si ça ne te dérange pas trop… »
(I'd like to go, Em, if you don't mind...)
Emma smiled wickedly and winked at her friend before answering seriously :
« Constance, j'ai peur que ta requête soit malheureusement irrecevable ! J'en suis vraiment désolée… Je fais ça pour ton bien, tu sais… Oh, ne me regarde pas avec tes grands yeux de Chat Botté ! Tu sais très bien que mon pauvre petit cœur ne peut y résister… Je suis vraiment une sœur trop gentille ! Tu peux aller rejoindre ton amoureux à condition de payer le prix… »
(Constance, I fear your request is sadly not receivable ! I'm so sorry ! I'm doing that for your own good and please don't look at me with your big puppy eyes ! You know my poor heart can't resist it ! I really am a too generous sister ! You can join your lover if you pay the price!)
The eldest sighed et rolled her eyes before staring at her, jaded :
« Et que veux-tu ? »
(And what do you want?)
Emma looked at her with shiny eyes :
« Oh, trois fois rien… Tu veux passer, tu payes la redevance, parce que… »
(Oh, nothing much, you want to go through, you pay the toll because...)
« Oui, oui… J'ai compris !... Sans la redevance, comment tu te remplirais la panse ! »
(Yeah, yeah, I get it!)
Constance interrupted, shaking her head, trying hard to hide her amusement and held out the candy box to her sister, who, lightning-fast, grabbed it and jumped on the bed, taking Marina with her… The two friends settled comfortably and went to detail the sugary treasure Thomas had brought, under the caring eyes of Constance and amazed look of Thomas. The eldest came slowly closer to the ghost who didn't seem to be aware of her presence next to him. He was frozen with indignation, glaring hard from the fireplace at the youngest of the two sisters. Constance put her hand on his shoulder and he laid instinctively to her, never leaving his gaze from the two friends. The young woman put a tender kiss on his cheek and a thank you went to caress his skin. He turned to face her, his eyes full of surprise, cheeks beautifully turning pink and a sincere smile on his slips before frustration came again to darken his eyes. He stroked slowly her cheek and whispered bitterly :
« It was your gift… »
How could she give so easily what he just had given her, without even a single thought, like it meant absolutely nothing to her, like he meant nothing to her…It's then she went to cuddle against him, her head on his chest, right next to his heart, that heart she had succeeded to make beat again, tenderly whispering :
« Thomas, my real gift is right here… It's far more precious to me than all the sweets in the world and it's the only one I wish to keep forever with me… »
He wrapped his arms around her, laying his cheek on the top of her head, swathed her with feelings he didn't know how to express, feelings far too strong he couldn't reduce them to words. She had given his gift so willingly because what really mattered to her was him and only him… Not his title, his lands, his belongings destined to buy a glimpse of affection… but him ! She was in his arms, she was wearing the nightgown and she wanted to be with him He even noticed the wooden rose he had sculpted amongst his drawing pens, like a small secret treasure just between her and him. Ah, if only he was alone with her at this moment, how he would have liked to kiss her, to cover her with love and caresses… but, unfortunately, they weren't and he was a gentleman ! His good education and manners were all he had left from the nobility of his ancestors – even if good manners were not something his family really cared about : his father and his numerous conquests, well-known infidelity which has ruined them, his sister… himself at a certain time… – and he had to respect the honor of the young woman cuddled in his arms. So he just kissed her on the forehead, a chaste and yet tender kiss, promises of a shared affection. Constance dived her eyes onto his and he forgot his resolutions. To hell the conventions ! He gently took her face in his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. With his other hand put at the end of her back, he drew her closer to him and lowered towards her, already feeling her breath on his lips. Marina lightly elbowed Emma, and with a wave of her head, mentioned the fireplace. With a dreamy smile, she whispered to her friend :
« Tu as vu comme ils sont mignons… » Oh, how she longed for Sean to hold her like that…
(Have you seen how cute they are...)
Emma didn't exactly see that in this way and rushed towards the couple, separating them just before they could kiss. Thomas was glaring hard at her and Constance just sighed with exasperation, clearly angry too. The young woman with pink hair pointed a threatening finger to the couple before pointing the door :
« Alright, break it up ! Do I need to remind you you're not alone and you're clearly hurting our sensibility, Marina's and mine ? What's the next step, huh ? A pottery class ? Get out of here, Patrick Swayze ! Now is not the time to replay Ghost… And next time, get a room you two ! »
Constance frowned and mischievously noticed :
« Em… Tu es au courant que nous sommes dans une chambre ? »
(Em, are you aware we are in a room ?
Thomas added through gritted teeth, containing the best he could his anger :
« Moreover, there is no Patrick Swayze in this room ! Like I have already mentioned to you, you can address me by using my name : Sir Thomas Sharpe, Miss ! And I have no intention to get out of MY bedroom ! »
Emma put her hands on her hips and retorted :
« Ah, you wanna stay, Petit Baron ? Well then, what about you do something useful and you explain to us what you know about the « forbidden love » ? »
Thomas paled, his eyes widening with stupor, frozen with a sudden fear this annoying little woman could be aware. How could she discover it ? Had she already told her sister ? No ! Certainly not ! If she had, never Constance would have confessed such an admission tonight… But she would certainly tell her… Emma would tell her everything and he would lose Constance forever…
« Emma, arrête avec cette stupide prophétie ! On ne sait même pas de qui parle cette partie ! » the eldest interjected.
(Emma, stop with this stupid prophecy, we don't even know who's this part is about!)
So, Emma didn't know a thing… For now at least… The Baronet relaxed a little, slowly taking Constance's hand in his, trying to hold on to her to calm his fear. He would need to discover what this prophecy could be… And fast ! Seeing the distress on his face, Marina got up and jumped in front of him :
« Why don't you go see the guys ? Maybe you could talk to them and... Well... maybe tell them one thing or two about the house... »
Surprised by her warm tone and unable to hide his revulsion toward the Americans, Thomas frowned and retorted, pouting :
« I do not intend to be in their presence more than necessary. »
It was then that a little ball of fur woke up and ran joyfully to him. The little dog scratched gently the hem of his pants, apparently hoping to snuggle in his arms.
« Oh, you know Beetljuice ? Is he your dog ? » Marina asked with joy.
« No, it's Enola's ! » Thomas answered without thinking, always bothered by this prophecy.
Constance turned to him surprised eyes :
« Who's Enola ? »
The Baronet internally cursed himself about his recklessness. How could he have been so stupid ? Thomas thought it was preferable to ignore the question for now… He needed to find a believable explanation and for now, he had none ! He kissed Constance's hand, bowed and said before vanishing slowly out of view, unable to hold the questioning look of the young woman : «
I will leave you now to your girl's night... Maybe we will meet again in your dreams »
The innuendo of his sentence made Emma jumped toward him but, by the time she had stopped where he was standing, the ghost of Sir Thomas Sharpe had completely vanished. Furious, she screamed for the whole house to hear :
« Be careful, Swayze ! Stay away from her and don't ever undress her ever again in her sleep ! »