Chapter 10
Carlynda supervised her three new employees as they learned to close up the bakery for the night. It was their first day and, although there were a few mistakes, overall they did very well. It did help that she was in a great mood today, despite yesterday's fear. Today she was able to hire two more people. She hoped that by the end of the week all her new employees would be able to handle things on their own. She would be able to start taking more days off. It was very exciting.
"Mad'moislle McBeth? 'S there anythin' else need cleanin'?"
She turned around to face the older women, Giselle Barnette. She used to cook for some aristocratic family before they turned her out for a younger cook. Giselle was a wonderful baker and Carlynda felt lucky to have her. "Giselle, I told you do call me Carlynda." She glanced around the space she was assigned to clean. "And no. This all looks good. The last thing we need to do is lock up."
Gabrielle Barnette, Giselle's young daughter, came up beside them. She wasn't what the norm would call a beauty, with her eyes too small and nose a little too big, but there was a certain charm about her. Maybe it was her bright smile and optimistic attitude or her childlike innocence. Whatever it was, Carlynda wasn't the only one to notice it. Her last hired employee, Henri Fonville, couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her. Henri was one of those huge men who wouldn't hurt a bug, gentle and innocent in his own way. He was a slow learner, but once he got something down, it was the best of the lot. He was able to do the baking and cleaning. The only thing he couldn't do was deal with the customers. Gabrielle took care of that part most of the time. All and all, Carlynda was proud of the three new workers.
"Successful day, no?" Gabrielle asked.
"Very successful," Carlynda agreed.
The bell above the door jingled and everyone turned to face their guest. Her brother took off his hat and gave them all a charming grin. "Sorry to interrupt. You almost done?"
Carlynda nodded at the question that was directed at her before turning back to her employees. "You all can go home now. I'll finish locking up."
Once everyone had gone, she turned to her brother with a look. "I don't want to know what they think of me now. A nobleman coming to see me—that will cause rumors."
Lucian shrugged his shoulders, looking unconcerned. "It might until you tell them the truth, or at least tell them I'm your brother. Anyhow, are you ready to go?"
She put her coat on and nodded. "I am if you're taking me to the opera house."
"Claudette," he started to protest as they walked outside.
She locked the door behind them and said, "I didn't see him today. I must have been mistaken yesterday."
"Or he could be biding his time. Maybe you just didn't see him watching you today."
She shook her head as she tied her bonnet. "No. If he was here, he would have made sure I saw him."
"I would feel more comfortable if you return home with me, sister." He nudged her towards his waiting carriage, but she stepped away from him.
"Don't take offense, Lucian, but I would feel more comfortable at the opera house."
Lucian leaned against the side of his carriage and shook his head. "There is something going on between you and Monsieur Geroux, isn't there?"
She glanced away. She could no longer hide the fact from him. His question had been more of a statement. "Lucian, you must understand that I am no longer the girl you remember. I am my own person now. I make my own decisions and mistakes. I know how to choose my own path. You nor our parents can protect me or shelter me anymore. With that said, yes, I am in a relationship with Monsieur Geroux and no it is not a proper relationship," she said delicately.
Lucian's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed as he glared at the direction of the opera house.
"It was my decision, Lucian," she snapped, pulling his attention back to her. "Don't do anything reckless and do not confront Monsieur Geroux about it, brother. I wanted this. I needed this."
"He ruined you!"
She marched up to him and slapped him across the cheek before she could stop herself. His head went to the side and his month opened in surprise. Self-conscious of her own actions, she glanced up and down the streets for any witnesses and was glad to see no strangers in sight. Her bakery wasn't on the most popular of streets. It was located at the edge of the bad side of Paris. The gentlemen's club across the street was the cheapest one in the city, making it the most desolate as most the wealthy gentlemen want to flaunt their money with the most expensive. The shops around her were mostly at the edge of going out of business or they don't stay open as late as the shops in the main section of Paris.
Her brother's driver and footman was glancing politely in another direction. She turned her attention back to her brother, who was rubbing his cheek. She glared at him. "Don't speak of what you don't know. He didn't ruin me. He saved me."
He dropped his hand to his side. "He saved you? So, is this some sort of payment? A reward?"
She knew she couldn't blame him for his words. He didn't know what she had done before meeting Erik, but it still hurt, having that reminder. "I will never sell my body, Lucian!" she said forcefully. "I'm not doing it as payment for saving me. As I said, I need this as much as he does. I may not love him. He may not love me, but we are there for each other. We find comfort in each other. It's not something you'll understand. It is our own business. Don't you dare ruin it for me."
Lucian was clearly not happy, but what older sibling would be? His jaw remained tight as his eyes still had that flare of anger. He turned to address his driver. "Percival, take us to the opera house instead." His driver nodded his understanding as the footman opened the carriage door for them.
Lucian helped her in, his hand holding hers a little too tightly. As she was settling in her seat, he climbed in. He sat across from her and sighed. "I am not happy with this…" He paused, took a breath, and began again. "I'm not happy with your relationship with Monsieur Geroux, Claudette. I'm not."
"Of course you're not, Lucian," she said softly, understanding his struggle to accept. To him, she was still his innocent baby sister. He remembered her during a time of naïve-ness. It must have been like she changed overnight to him. "But I am happy with it. He makes me happy." Her heart fluttered in her chest as she realized just how happy Erik made her. She didn't understand the warm feeling in her bosom, but it felt marvelous. The way Erik treated her as an equal, his quiet support, his warm affection, his gentleness—he was wonderful to her. He comfort her and was always willing to help. He worried about her and cared for her. She felt safe with him.
"I see." Lucian's voice pulled her attention back to him. He was eyeing her strangely, as if discovering an answer to a puzzle. He appeared more relaxed as he leaned back in his seat, his eyes still fixed on her. "I see," he repeated softly, almost to himself. He turned and glanced out the window.
No more words were said until they reached the opera house and said their goodbyes. She didn't ask him what he interpreted from her last spoken sentences, but whatever it was, it seemed to have calmed him.
Carlynda entered the office after knocking and receiving an 'enter' from Erik. She closed the door behind her and took off her cloak. She didn't look at Erik until she had her cloak on the coatrack. She wasn't surprised that she could only see his shadowy figure standing by his desk.
"Carlynda, I didn't expect you tonight."
She grasped her hands in front of her, wondering if she made a mistake in coming. "Should I have gone with my brother? I had thought, after last night…" She pushed back a little strand of hair that loosened from her bun.
"No, no, of course. I just thought you'd want to be with him for the same reason you were there last night."
She caught the subtle question in his tone, but spoke as if she didn't hear it. "I find it rather difficult to sleep alone now. I hope you don't mind, Erik."
"I don't. And the fight we had…?"
"I put it behind me, if you did. May I come…?" She reached into the dark and stepped forward before Erik could say otherwise.
Erik's familiar cool hand took hers and lead her back to his desk. She sat down at her normal spot by his side. "I wanted to thank you."
"Whatever for, my dear?" He sat down at his desk, turning his chair to face her better.
"For coming last night. You didn't have to and I didn't expect you to."
"I had to make sure you were safe."
"That is the thing, Erik. You didn't have to, but you did anyway. Thank you."
"I couldn't not see if you were alright, Carlynda."
She let out a soft chuckle. "Will you just take my gratitude, Erik?"
He shifted in his seat. "You are welcome," he said softly. He sighed. "Speaking of last night, if you don't mind, I have to ask…"
She frowned and shook her head. "Please don't."
He leaned forward in his seat, his elbows on his knees. "Carlynda, something frightened you enough to run to your brother. Who was it?"
She sat up, her eyes wide and her heart hammering just a tad bit harder. "What makes you think it was someone?"
"Was it the same person you've been running from for the past three years? The person that caused you to run from home?"
"Stop!" she snapped. "I can't." She began shaking her head. "Please, Erik. I don't want to talk about it. I can't. I just can't. I'm sorry."
"Why don't you trust me?"
Her shaking hands went to her face and brushed back the tears that escaped. "I trust you, Erik. I do, but, I just can't."
"Does your brother know?"
"Why can't you stop asking? Please, Erik."
"Does he know?" he pressed.
She shook her head. "Not everything. Please, stop," she whimpered, hiding her face with her hands. "I don't want to talk about this." How much longer could she keep Erik, her best friend, in the dark?
She felt his cool hands engulf hers and pulled them from her face. "I'm sorry, Carlynda, to press you so, but I am concern for your safety. You've been running from this for three years, but it is catching up to you. Let me help you."
She shook her head. "Please, Erik. I just want to forget," she whispered.
"I understand your desire to forget, but your past is right behind you. Whatever or whoever you are running from won't let you forget so easily. Tell me." His voice was gentle, but it didn't calm her.
She glanced at his face, searching fruitlessly for his eyes. "Please, Erik," she begged. "Not now."
"Carlynda…"
She felt something explode inside her as she tried to keep him from asking. "Will you be so able to open up about your past? You are not so willing, are you? Why must I tell you when you never say anything about yourself? You know more about me, then I know about you. You have no right to press me. No right at all." She felt him more then saw him withdraw. She refused to feel guilty for her words, but she was sorry for her tone. She could have been more delicate.
There was a moment of silence where she waited for him to say or do something. She glanced down when he didn't say anything.
"Unlike my past, Carlynda," he finally said, "yours is catching up to the present. Mine, as of yet, is still in the past. I can't protect or even help you until you tell me what is going on." He sighed. "Just promise me one thing." His tone changed, becoming gentler.
"Yes?" she questioned softly.
"If the person or persons you are running from appears again, threatens you in anyway, physically or mentally, you tell me everything. Promise, Carlynda."
"Will you help me forget about it tonight, Erik?"
There was a brief pause as his hands tightened around hers. "Yes."
She nodded and let out a breath of relief. "I promise."
He stood up, pulling her to her feet as well. Standing over her, his hands still around hers and at their chest, he bent his head down until his forehead almost touched hers. His breath came out even and warm against her lips. Her heart fluttered in her chest and her cheeks grew warm. "I just want to keep you safe, Carlynda." His thumb caressed the back of her hand, causing a warm tingle.
"I know," she whispered. "I appreciate it, really, but I'm not ready."
"You may not have a choice."
She hesitated before nodding disgruntledly. "I know." And she did know. Monsieur L'Angley wouldn't wait for her to get ready. For some reason he was determined to have her and he could only be so patient.
"Come, my dear." He let go of one of her hands to caress her cheek. "Let's get to bed. I'll help you forget for tonight." He stepped back.
"Thank you, Erik."
Without another word, he led her to the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind them.
She woke to a turning, twisting feeling in her stomach and a lump in her throat. She could taste something acidy in her mouth that made her even more nauseous. She groaned and rolled over to her side.
"Carlynda?" Erik whispered, as if unsure if she was awake.
She sat up, but felt a wave of dizziness at her motion. "Bucket, Erik." She leaned back on the headboard.
"Pardon?" He sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I'm going to be sick. Bucket," she moaned. She leaned over the side of the bed as she retched, luckily nothing came out, but the feeling remained.
The wash pail from the washroom was placed in front of her just as she retched again, this time the acidy, burning sensation of vomit passed through her throat and out her mouth. Her body shook.
It took a moment to realize Erik was holding her hair back from her face and was whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She was breathing deeply, but the nauseous feeling was slowly leaving her. She spat into the bucket, trying to get the taste out. "Wa—water, please."
Erik tenderly kissed her temple. "I'll be right back. The bucket is on the floor, right next to you, if you need it again."
She nodded and leaned her head back with her eyes closed.
She was almost asleep when Erik came back. She felt the bed dip as he sat at the edge, close to her. She opened her eyes but couldn't see in the darkness. All she saw was his dark figure beside her. The gas lamp in the washroom was lit, but the door was only opened a crack, letting very little light into the room.
Erik took her hand and wrapped it around the cool glass of the cup. She took a sip, swished it around in her mouth, before leaning to the side of the bed and spitting it out into the bucket. She did this several times, trying to get the taste out. Once the cup was empty she leaned back again and let out a shaky sigh.
"Here," Erik said softly.
Something wet and cool touched her forehead. It was only then that she realized she was sweating. "Thank you, Erik," she said meekly.
"How are you feeling?" He patted her forehead with the cool cloth.
"Better. It must have been something I ate. What time is it?"
"Four."
"Four?" She reached out and touched his sleeve. She could feel the thick fabric of his jacket. "You're already dressed." She let go of his sleeve. "Do you usually get up this early?"
"Yes. I like to do what I can when everyone is still abed. I rarely sleep more than three hours a night."
Her eyes widened in shock. "Surely that isn't healthy."
"Let's not worry about my health right now and focus on yours. When was the last time you ate?"
She sighed. "Lunch." She hadn't eaten dinner since her birthday and that was the first time in months. Coming straight here from the bakery had put a stop to eating dinner and Erik didn't seem to eat much. Now that she thought about it she never actually saw him eat before.
"What did you have?"
"I ate at a diner on Rue Majeur and had an herb roasted chicken. It was quite good," she fibbed. It wasn't too bad, really, but it was not made as she was accustom to. It was a little undercooked and the herbs was missing a spice or two that she liked. She didn't complain, of course. She realized that the dish was usually a more expensive one. The fact that she found it cheap at a diner told her it wouldn't be like what she was familiar with. She was pretty sure that was the cause of her sudden sickness this morning.
"And this was at eleven yesterday?"
"Yes."
"Hmm," he hummed in thought.
"Erik?" she questioned when he didn't say anything.
"I don't know what caused your sickness, but I would feel better if you didn't go to work today."
"Erik, I am feeling much better now. I'm going."
"Carlynda…"
"Erik," she protested.
She heard him sigh. "Alright, but, if you regurgitate more of your stomach contents, you will not be going."
Touched by his concern, if not a little annoyed as well, for it was a little pointless as she was feeling much better, she nodded. "That sounds fair. Now, go along then, Erik. Don't let me keep you from your job."
"No, I'll stay here to keep in eye." He reached back up and patted her warm forehead with the cloth again. "Go back to sleep." He shifted and stood. "I'll clean your bucket," he said with a hint of disgust.
She couldn't blame him. It was not a job she would jump to do either. If he was willing to clean it, she was not going to complain. "Thank you." She settled back down on her pillow and watched his shadowy form disappeared into the washroom.
She snuggled into her covers and closed her eyes. She could hear the water running and the swish, swish of it as he washed down the contents of the bucket and cleaned it. She was still amazed that Erik had the money to install the new invention of indoor plumbing. The only other place she saw indoor plumbing was her brother's home and that was because the manor was built fifteen years ago. Although, her parents manor in Brittany surely had it by now. She knew her father was working on funding the installation of indoor plumbing by the time she ran away.
As she was sleepily pondering this, she heard the door creak open as Erik stepped out with the freshly clean bucket. She heard the plonk as he set it down on the floor beside her, then the rustle of fabric. She opened her eyes and watched Erik take off what must have been his jacket, setting it on the chair at the vanity. She closed her eyes, but the dip of the bed beside her made her open them again. She turned to her other side to see Erik sitting there, back against the headboard.
"What are you doing?"
"I told you, I'm staying to keep an eye on you."
"Erik, you mustn't. I'm feeling quite well, truly. I don't want to keep you."
"I'm staying."
"What will you do while you wait? You'll get bored sitting in the dark."
"Sleep, my dear. Don't worry about me."
"And you shouldn't worry about me. I am better now. Whatever it was has left my system."
"Sleep."
"Erik…"
Suddenly, before she could protest again, he began to hum a soft, gentle tune. She froze as the lovely melody filled the air. It was low and oh so beautiful. It made her eyes heavy as she listened. There was something about it that made her heart warm. She never heard Erik sing a single note, despite knowing, from Madame Giry, that he was quite the singer. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. Her eyelids shut on their own accord. She laid there listening to the music as she slipped peacefully into her dreams.
The Holiday Break gave me time to write! Hooray for that!
But I don't know when I'll be able to update again. School really got me busy last semester and this next semester promises to be harder.
Please Review!
