Chapter Nine

By choice or otherwise, foolishness constantly manages to descend upon a person at least once in their lifetime, and that is why within each group of men, there is always one fool. Like a plaguing disease, it strikes suddenly without its victim having any idea of its attack, and of course, its favorites to beset are those in the midst of love. It never passes the chance to get in the way of those poor souls.

That was Lumière's excuse the next few days for his actions. Why he had ever offered to take Veronique on the walk, he could not even remember; that was simply how things were done. One girl turns you down, you find another for the time being. All he did know was that when others saw him so silent, it was obvious that a mistake had been made. Everyone, especially Cogsworth, who greeted him on this new morning, knew that such a manner was unusual for him.

"I suppose I would be correct to assume that you have completely humiliated yourself...again," he asked as they walked to the kitchen.

"Humiliation is an understatement," Lumière replied. "I, mon ami, am the biggest imbecile on the face of the earth." He paused briefly to smother any response Cogsworth had with his hand. "And I am not looking for any agreement; I know it perfectly well. Besides, how did you find out?"

Once his poor mouth was released from the hand's custody and their walk continued, Cogsworth explained, "Is there anything that happens in this place that someone does not find out about sooner or later? Veronique told me the whole story once I questioned why the floors were not complete; they have to be spotless you know. I kept silent with you, deciding that you had enough consequences to deal with." He added regretfully, "I hoped I would not have to say this, but I told you so."

"You lie; you love when you can say that."

"It is your own fault, nevertheless; the idea of you two was a surefire disaster from the start."

Lumière growled, "I know that. I made a mistake, and I will atone for it. This is far from over; I am simply giving her some time to plan her strategy. You do that when someone declares war on you."

Cogsworth looked at him confused, "War? What on earth are you talking about?"

If he was in a better mood, Lumière would have been humored. "Oh I did not mention it? She has "challenged" me; I do not know how yet, but she has."

His stout companion raised his exasperated eyes to the heavens. "Lord save us all! Is there anything you can do without causing trouble?"

"Oh calm yourself, Cogsworth. Just give her a few days and the whole matter will fly right by, I'm sure of it. Soon, very soon, things will be as calm as they were."

"Heaven forbid it; 'things', as you say, were never calm between you to begin with."

"I'll see it to that they will be better then, you'll see."

Cogsworth subtly crossed himself. There was more of a chance of disastrous becoming chaos whenever Lumière said words like that, but as they pressed on, his attention moved away from him having caught a scene of slackers. Male and female, close knit, and ignoring work. Typical!

"You would think that was you," he muttered to his associate in disgust before he commanded, "All right, all right, enough of that!" They turned around. "There is obviously a time for work and a time for--"

Both Cogsworth and Lumière stopped dead in their tracks. The man was Guilliame, one of the downstairs servants. The lady?

"Babette?" both men confirmed, barely believing it.

Sure enough it was, but not the one they knew. Her dress was cut, raised so the hem hardly covered her knees. Had she been wearing anything to fluff the skirt more, it would have surpassed rebellion to the status of scandal. The sleeves were gone, leaving what resembled a white strap that silkily draped around the base of her shoulder, and her hair gathered laxly inside her cap. In any other situation, Cogsworth still would have found this preposterous, Lumière would have thought it a dream.

The older man, as he frequently did, broke the noiseless moment of tension. "I. Am. Truly. Shocked. The last person that I would expect this from was—"

Babette yawned loudly interrupting him, "Little old me, Cogsworth, I know." Glancing at Guilliame, she purred, "Later, mon cher; seems I've been caught and must be put on trial. You know where to find me tonight, run along." After he left, she turned on Lumière, slowly breaking into a smile. "Well, well...merci le Dieu, I have the master of these moments here. Surely you understand, don't you, monsieur, and I pray you teach me how to avoid consequences for...hmm, how shall I say it, sharing your affections publicly? But of course you must have gotten out of many—and I do mean many—of such situations before."

Lumière spoke silently slow. "Cogsworth, by all means, let me handle this."

On any other occasion, his answer would have been no, but this time, Cogsworth decided in favor of agreement. This may have been just the thing to end this little feud of theirs and bring the girl to her senses about what she had made herself into. "Very well, she is all yours."

"Doesn't he wish," Babette murmured before she felt herself be dragged away into another room. She hardly had time to realize what had happened before she heard the door shut.

"Have you gone out of your head, woman? Are you mad?!" Lumière hissed quietly.

"Mad?" she argued, "Mad, oui, at you for everything you have done to me!"

"All I have done to you? For caring, wanting to love you?"

"For cheating!"

"Firstly, cheating would require a real agreement en amour, thus I was far from it! Secondly, may I remind you that you have not been a picnic either!"

Babette stared him down, and she shoved her finger into his chest in accusation. "You, monsieur, have lead me on since the beginning, if you remember. Little names, attempted flirtations, and even kindness! You try to make me believe that you could truly love me, throw me aside when I can not return it, and then to see you with that little...little...!"

Lumière pushed her finger aside. "I would not be using such names or even thinking them at present if I were you, mademoiselle; if you would care to find a mirror you would see what I mean."

She wasted no time in slapping him square across the face. "How dare you!"

He did not even flinch...well visibly. "How dare I? As a matter of fact, I do remember! I remember you returning the favor of leading on. The night of the ball you made me believe that wanted what we had, and then turn me away the minute it frightens you!"

"I have told you repetitively that I did not want love; you brought me to infatuation and I lost my sense of mind. But of course, the minute you could not have me, you went to another; typical of your kind!"

"Until you consent to be mine, I am free as a bird to do as I wish; all you have to do is say yes."

"Which I will never do!"

Lumière took a deep breath. "God take pity on the man that weds you."

Babette laughed. "No man will ever own me. I will forever be an exact female replica of yourself, and it will drive you senseless knowing I am the only one you cannot have. Now if you will excuse me," She shoved passed him before she continued. "I have a date tonight at the tavern, and I do intend to enjoy myself. They are a play land for a girl like me."

He growled, "What kind? A vixen?"

She stopped suddenly before turning to face him. "Oh, I almost forgot...something to remember me by." At once, she raised her right hand to slap him, but he managed to stop it.

"Ha! Missed!"

If he paid attention before celebrating, he would have seen her left hand coming for him and unfortunately make contact.

"Ha! Did not!"

"Sacre bleu, woman, you are going to make me bleed!"

"Grow up!"

After she slammed the door behind her, Lumière growled in frustration, only checking for a moment to see if his lip was actually bleeding. No such luck. She was impossible, he decided, just plain impossible. Why he was going to follow her tonight was beyond his knowledge, but then he was after all a fool, a stubborn, protective fool.

"Put me down!"

Tracking the game was the easy part, although carrying her in an arm-flailing tantrum was anything but, especially when one bruised, battered and beaten. Babette's attacks and shrieks did not help Lumière as he threw her onto her horse before climbing on painfully behind her.

"There, I put you down; now stop hitting me," he winced. "You have caused me enough pain for one day."

"You brought this upon yourself," she huffed indignantly, focusing on the path ahead. "You deserve every bit of it from the fight you started."

"Oh I do apologize," he drawled sarcastically. "I seem to have forgotten that protecting someone from a man who had just a bit too much to drink was a crime worthy of a scolding. Next time, I swear I will let him do as he pleases."

Babette grew silent. Unwanted advances had met her that evening, and she should have expected it. Much as she hated to admit it, if he had not followed her, circumstances could have gotten a lot worse. But neither one said anything more as they very quietly returned to the castle. It was against regulations to be out this late at night, and costs for their actions would not be given lightly.

Without a single sound, Babette helped the injured Lumière to the servants' quarters.

"Sit down," she ordered, looking for cloths and water to tend to his badges of courage. On finding them, she sat beside him touching a wet cloth to his bleeding lip, and he cringed at the stinging sensation.

"Mon Dieu, what is supposed to hurt more?" Lumière winced painfully. "The actual fight or the healing process?"

"Oh stop that, you are worse than a child," she replied as if reprimanding. Soaking another cloth in some cold water, she handed it to him, ordering to keep it on his eye. "Well, I suppose, that I did make you bleed this evening after all; for that, I am sorry."

Lumière laughed gently in fear of more pain. "As a lady I know said on one occasion, that was probably the nicest thing you ever said to me."

She smiled. "I think I know her too, quite well actually."

"Thought you would," he responded, swallowing more pain before gazing at her with his one good eye. No matter how hard he tried, he could not stay angry with her. "I am...rather fond of her."

Babette frowned. "Lumière...not again."

Lumière grew serious. "Listen, no more beating around the bush, or any beating at all, I've had enough for one night. We both acted irrationally, and I am sorry for any pain I caused you. But I will be honest...I adore everything about you, ever since I first laid eyes on you. These feelings I have are the strongest I've felt, and seeing you with someone else tonight...I swore my heart ripped to shreds. Babette...I want to start over. If we must begin as friends, then so be it, but I could never live with myself if I do not try one last time."

Babette ran her hand through her hair nervously. "But...I can't."

"How will you know if you never give us a chance?" He paused for a moment. "All right, here is the deal. Tomorrow night, you and me--hear me out--half past nine, simply a nice evening. If you do not enjoy yourself whatsoever, then I will drop all efforts to be any more than friends. If you do, then we will take things from there." He held out his hand. "What say you?"

The only thing she attested her ready agreement to this plan was the need to show him that she was grateful. Taking his hand in a shake, she nodded, "I guess we have a bargain."

With smiles at last on both sides, Babette could not help but laugh as she pressed the rag to his lip again. "You know you really did look humorous this evening; you against a huge, admittedly handsome and undoubtedly drunk man in a fight? You had no chance!"

Only their laughter to follow would have woken anyone for the rest of the evening, neither knowing what was to come of the next.