Chapter Ten
It was interesting how much varied states of mind affected one's abilities, Lumière mused. Sleepily rubbing his eyes, he made his way to the upstairs rooms in the servants' wing, which were occupied by many of the young women on staff at the castle. He could walk that hallway blindfolded when he was thoroughly awake, and still know exactly where he was going. He was a frequent visitor there after all. But having just groggily prepared himself for the day, still in a bit of a drowsy daze, he had to admit that, for the first time, he had almost forgotten which way led to where on that floor.
Taking a moment to think, Lumière nodded decisively, completely certain that he remembered which room had been given to Babette the day before. After bestowing his attention on a few girls who were awake at this hour, he halted in front of the door he was looking for, allowing himself a final yawn before he knocked. The response came in the form of an annoyed moan and a soft thud, most likely the result a small projectile of sorts being thrown at the door. Lumière smirked as he knocked again, harder.
"Room service!" he called in a teasing and purposely irritating tone.
Lumière heard a few noises coming from the room, footsteps from the sound of it, before the door opened. Babette glowered at him beneath a few pestering strands of hair that had escaped from her braid, a blanket loosely draped over her shoulders.
Lumière could hardly contain a laugh. "Let me guess. You are not a morning person?"
"Your intelligence impresses me," Babette drawled sarcastically, her voice a bit hoarse. "What do you want?"
"I already told you that we would begin as early as dawn," Lumière said with no remorse. "I should not have waited until seven, but I myself had overslept. I have to run downstairs to get everything ready for breakfast. Therefore, you are fortunate enough this once to have more time for waking up and getting dressed before meeting me in the dining room. I expect you there by nine."
"You are jesting, oui?" Babette groaned.
Lumière raised an eyebrow. "As you have obviously not learned, I do not jest about this, mademoiselle. Make that half past eight in the dining room, instead," he said, leaving before she could protest. One week, he thought with a smirk. She would not last any longer than one week for sure.
Babette's jaw tightened angrily as she closed the door with a huff. A gentleman was he? Oh yes, he was a gentlemanly something all right, she mused, roughly opening different drawers, trying to find something to wear.
A mere hour and a half to get ready! The man had to be out his mind, Babette thought angrily, throwing aside each dress she found. Wonderful, now she was annoyed, tired, and disgusted by the rags they had given her! Each one had a skirt that would sweep the floors better than a broom itself with sleeves longer than her arms. What was she supposed to be, a maid or a nun?
With a sigh, Babette searched another drawer desperately, but all she could find were a few toilette necessities and a sewing box…a sewing box…
Babette pressed one of the dresses against her to examine it. A few minor alterations would not take too long, she thought with a smirk. She would show him; her superior or not, no one treated her like a common urchin and got away with it. Suddenly energized by thoughts of sweet defiance, she freshened up a bit before setting about the task at hand.
"She will be here!" Lumière said with a sigh, leaning against the dining room table and watching Cogsworth pace in front of him. "You really need to rethink your state of mind, mon ami; too much pessimism is unhealthy."
Cogsworth turned on him. "Do not talk to me about state of mind when your own is not something to boast about," he warned.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Lumière asked indignantly.
"Well it is certainly not my fault that we have an unnecessary new employee, now is it?" Cogsworth asked in a scolding manner. "Pessimistic or not, I think before I act!"
"At least you do," Lumière muttered, glancing over Cogsworth's shoulder.
As Cogsworth turned, both he and Lumière stared mortified at Babette as she entered the dining room. She had been more decently dressed yesterday than she did at that very moment. A corset alone would have been less scandalous! The neckline of her dress plummeted to a shameful point on her full figure, and the sleeves had vanished altogether, leaving sagging strips of cloth at the base of her shoulders. Worse than that, not only were her ankles in full view, courtesy of a greatly altered skirt, but much of her calves as well. Thankfully, her knees were still covered!
"Oh my Lord," Cogsworth said slowly, a repulsed, nauseated expression taking over his older features.
Babette stopped short at his words; as usual, her impulsive thinking had gotten the best of her. She had not planned on Cogsworth being in the same room. To defy Lumière was one thing; Cogsworth on the other hand was another. The latter could dismiss her in a heartbeat, and then what was she to do?
"What is…is…that?" Cogsworth asked in horror, gesturing to the dress. "What on earth could have possibly possessed you to wear such a thing?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
Cogsworth and Babette turned to face Lumière after he had spoken.
Lumière moved to Babette's side as he continued. "The girl apparently has sensitive skin; some of the material they make dresses from, mon Dieu! They must be a discomfort for her to the point of pain!"
Cogsworth stared at him blankly. "What in heaven's name are you talking about?"
"You can see her as clearly as I can," Lumière said with a shrug. "Honestly, no woman in her right mind would do such a thing without just cause." He turned to Babette with a scowl that only she could see. "Am I correct?" he asked.
Babette nodded, more than willing to play along. "But of course, there was no other reason!" she said with a smile. "Men just do not understand! Dresses are not as comfortable as they appear, and for a girl like me, they are weapons of torture! I turn as red as a…a uh…"
"As Cogsworth's face at present?" Lumière suggested.
"Yes indeed!" Babette laughed nervously. "Very much like it, absolutely!"
Lumière returned his attention to the man in question. "You see, mon capitan?" he said. "She is simply worried about keeping her skin so immaculate! No harm done!"
Cogsworth felt one of his headaches approaching fast; they had grown in number ever since Lumière had arrived. But now with this Babette at the Frenchman's side, Cogsworth knew they would only get worse.
"Have you done this to any of the other dresses?" he asked.
"Non, monsieur," Babette replied quickly.
"See that they stay as they are, then," he ordered. "Or else your 'sensitive skin' shall be dismissed immediately, if not sooner." He turned to Lumière. "And that also goes for you and your senseless rubbish."
Without even waiting for an acknowledgement, Cogsworth stormed off, leaving Babette to Lumière's mercy. Judging by the look in Lumière's eyes, however, she wished Cogsworth had decided to stay; murder could not be committed with a witness in the room.
"I did not know he…"
"Do not say a word," Lumière interrupted. "Anything you say right now can and will be used against you in the future if need be."
"What are you, a member of the castle guard in your spare time?" Babette asked, sarcasm dripping from her words. "I was going to apologize."
"Don't," Lumière replied sharply. "Instead, promise that you will learn to think before you act in the future, saving us both a lot of trouble. I shall then be willing to call matters even."
"All right, I promise," Babette said quietly. "But I am still sorry."
Lumière sighed; he was far too softhearted for his own good. That was his one weakness aside from a pretty face, and unfortunately she had that as well, among many other fine assets. He had to admit it, if she had worn that dress under different circumstances, he would be clay in her sculpting hands. He was, above all else, a natural, instinctive human male. Far be it from him to ignore an attractive female…especially one that was willing to use every mating sign known to man…luring appearance, teasing…
"Very well," he said, mentally shaking himself from his reverie. There was work to be done after all; if he did not cease his thoughts at that moment, he never would. "Come, your training begins now."
For the entire morning well into early afternoon, all Lumière did was teach, so much in fact that he was on the edge of boredom himself. All of his father's monotonous speeches were returning to haunt him as he passed them onto Babette. Soup bowl goes on top of the dinner plate; knives on the right with the forks on the left, each corresponding the correct course order. Red wine glass is placed slightly above and to the left of the white wine glass, which must be placed above the soup spoon, et cetera and so forth.
"And above all, once the place setting is complete and the course is served…keep practicing with that napkin!" he said. "Once that is done, our presence is no longer needed except to pass bread around and replenish the wine."
Babette glared at Lumière when he turned his back on the last sentence. Serving a meal never had this many rules and regulations, and most of them were silly at that! Precisely who thought it was a good idea to have so many utensils for one person? What was so horribly wrong about using one meager little fork, knife, and spoon for every need?
"You are still doing it wrong."
At his random words, Babette turned her attention to the napkin he had given her to practice folding with; it had become a tangled mass of knots. Tossing it onto the table in aggravation, she growled, "What does it matter? They are going to put it on their laps anyway, unfolded mind you!"
"Presentation reflects our hard work," Lumière said, a bit of a sympathetic smile playing about his lips. "They should see it beautifully folded first." He paused for a moment as she tried to fold it correctly one more time, and failing, before he took pity on her. "All right, I will assign someone else to napkins for a while; I have something I need to show you."
"What is that?" Babette asked with eager curiosity. At this rate, anything had to be more interesting than folding napkins.
Lumière laughed gently as he gathered two candlesticks and lit them. Handing one to her, he said, "Take this and follow me."
Babette obeyed, following him through the kitchen to a cellar door. Gazing into the darkness as they walked down a narrow staircase, she determined it was a wine cellar, and a well stocked one indeed. Many racks filled with different bottles lined the walls, organized and labeled to perfection.
"This is our territory," Lumière explained, his words holding a sense of authority and a twinge of pride. "No one is permitted entry to this cellar but myself and those on my staff. Everything down here is our responsibility, and we take nothing less than the utmost care of it. Never set one foot down here, however, unless ordered to do so."
Babette nodded. "Quite understandable."
"Most likely the only thing that is," Lumière said with a smirk.
On that note, he went on to show her exactly where various wines were located. Red, white, Chardonnay, champagne and the dessert wines, all masterfully sorted. For the first time since her arrival yesterday, Babette was truly fascinated.
If only her concentration had more of a focus on simpler things. Listening to him intently, Babette paid little attention to how she held the candle, and she gasped, wincing in pain as a small drip of hot wax fell onto her hand.
Lumière turned to her quickly, sitting her down on a crate before he placed both their candlesticks aside to determine the damage. As expected from such an insignificant little bit of wax, there was nothing serious, and he gently peeled it away after it had cooled.
"Perhaps I was right about sensitive skin," he laughed. "Hardly a mark, yet you make it out to be a deadly burn."
"Well it was!" Babette insisted with a pout. "The flame itself would not have hurt this much."
Without thinking, Lumière gently kissed it, his only intention to soothe her pain…but why did it take such a great amount of will power to draw his lips away? Her hand…so small, so warm and soft, especially for a woman who had daily used them for work. Only when she hastily pulled it away did Lumière realize what he had done.
"Babette, I…I am sorry," he stuttered. Stuttering, in front of a woman? He had never done that before! "I did not mean to…"
"But you did," she replied sharply. "And while I appreciate it, please do not do that again."
Lumière looked at her indignantly, prepared to defend himself, but surprisingly, he could not find a decent argument. He had been consumed with stress since her arrival the day before that…he had completely forgotten how truly beautiful she was.
"It will not, I swear it," he said, his defense vanquished. Whatever it would take to make her happy, he would do it…why on earth was he thinking this way?
Babette, on the other hand, immediately stood up. "If Monsieur Lumière will allow it, I would like to take some time to rest, just for a little while." She paused before she added, "Alone."
Lumière was about to protest, but decided against the idea. Perhaps it would be best for both of them.
"As you wish," he agreed, taking his watch from his waistcoat pocket. "Meet me in the dining room again in fifteen minutes; you still have yet to fold that napkin properly."
Despite her uneasy discomfort, Babette allowed herself to smile before she quickly made her way upstairs. Racing to her room as fast as she could, she closed the door behind her taking a deep breath. No, she could not deny the sparks she had felt inside when Lumière had kissed her hand, innocent as his intentions could have been, but she would ignore them. Her emotions would not overthrow her common sense, not this time. The pain she had felt at losing Lucien, coupled with her beliefs that the nobleman would someday come to his senses, had severed the bridge to her heart. Never again would another man claim her love like that. Ever.
Reviews:-)
TrudiRose: I am SO kicking myself for actually blabbing where the "pram" line came from! I just heard it from the source and thought it sounded so totally Lumi! Glad to see it worked. :-) And wow, for you to say this is one of your favorites is a BIG honor; thank you very much!
Knux: I'm keeping a lot of things from book I, Beginning, of the trilogy for this story, and the non-instant relationship is one of them. Considering that both Lumiere and Babette go through lovers like many change their underwear, I figured there had to be some reason why they would WANT to stay with each other. If neither one openly and immediately falls for the other...then they each just have to try harder. :-) It's an open challenge if you will. Course, we all know what's going to happen eventually, and it's already starting:-) Thanks much!
Stef: It's the attack of the fluff; it has started! LOL! Hope you like this chapter just as much; thanks:-)
FairlyOdd: Disney will NEVER touch my work! LOL! Kidding, totally; I love Disney really, but they can't have this. :-) Thank you very much. :-)
