Chapter Eight

It seemed as if all of the brightness and gaiety of The Eve had been sucked out the second I decided to leave. It was raining today; nearly opaque sheets of rain had pounded the earth steadily since the morning. The usually comfortably dim kitchens were now dark, dank and depressing, and the heat of the stove was nearly unbearable when coupled with the humidity. There were no quick bursts of laughter, lively discussions about the guests, or daily gossip from about the town. Even my normally springy chocolate curls hunk lank with rainwater and sweat. As I lazily stirred the simmering pot of beef stew with one hand and wiped my forehead with the other, Midge looked at me with a concerned expression.

"You don't seem yourself this afternoon," she remarked almost casually while chopping wild onion.

"I don't?" I tried to laugh, feebly.

"No, not at all," Midge looked at me with a discerning eye. "Something on your mind, Belle?"

"No," I tried to answer, but ended up choking on the word.

The knife that had been keeping a steady "tap tap tap tap" rhythm on the cutting board paused. Midge sighed and spoke with a gentleness in her voice that I had never heard from her before. "Now, I can't force ye to talk if ye don't want to, but…I am listening."

That was about all I could take. I couldn't take Midge being so nice, knowing that I was about to betray everyone's trust. I looked at her, my eyes swimming with unshed tears and Midge's knife clattered to the board as she enfolded me in a hug. I had never in my life been hugged by my mother, so I imagined this is what it should've felt like. I felt very small, yet warm and protected…as if nothing in this world could ever harm me as long as these arms were my shelter. A dam burst within me and tears came in torrents, flooding down my cheeks. Midge held me while I shuddered and sniffled, crying my eyes out, rubbing small circles on my back.

"What is it, Belle?"

I shook my head and hiccupped. "N-nothing."

"Nothing's got you crying as hard as this rain, eh?"

I nodded.

Midge heaved a great sigh and held me an arm's length away from her. "You can tell me if it's one of the girls. Susanna?"

"No, no…it's nothing Midge, really," I said while wiping my eyes and taking deep calming breaths. I could tell she didn't want to, but she let me go as I insisted there wasn't anything truly wrong with me.

Under her silent stare, I looked down at my feet. Finally, she gave up on hearing me speak. "Alright then, we've got work to do," she murmured.

Nodding, I went back to stirring the beef stew, only sniffing here and there sporadically. My "work" included so little that the minutes seemed to never pass. I found myself falling asleep as I disinterestedly watched the bubbles of sauce in the pot swell and burst. Wanting to actually be engaged in something worthwhile and attention-diverting, I quietly informed Midge that I would be using the downtime to update the pantry inventories. This also assured I would be alone for a while; everyone hated taking inventory. I walked towards the spice pantry as if I were sleeping, letting a sigh of relief escape my lips when I was finally in the room alone. The heady scents of foreign spices engulfed me and my mind drifted to dreaming of the Caribbean seas. The rain and dismal atmosphere of the Eve today had me eager for adventure, despite my apprehension about and guilt over my trip. Maybe the Caribbean sunshine will dry my tears forever.

As I counted sticks of cinnamon and cloves of garlic, I thought of my mysterious father. What kind of man was he? Jack Trade hadn't seemed to think very much of him; that was for sure. Perhaps he was a quick tempered man, given to following impulses. He hadn't become a pirate though; he was still a privateer. He may have fought unfairly, but he fought for his country. Did that give him a certain level of honor? He was a traitor though; he committed the sin of adultery with the King's wife. Does that make him…

In the midst of my thoughts, the door to the pantry creaked open. I dropped the inventory to the stone floor in surprise as I turned and met Lucien's eyes.

"Good afternoon, Belle," he greeted me softly. "Midge told me I might find you in here."

"H-hello," I stammered.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm doing inventory," I blurted and gestured to the fallen list stupidly.

He laughed. "I see what you're doing, I asked how you were feeling."

"I'm fine."

Giving a small sigh and running a hand through his hair, Lucien looked at me quite seriously. I flushed under his gaze and looked at the floor.

"Midge told me you were crying wretchedly in her arms not a few minutes ago―"

"She told you?" my head snapped up.

"Yes, she did, and rightly so…and last night you left me a note saying that you were ill, but you don't look ill, just distressed. Oribelle, what is going on with you?"

I was silent for a while, debating with myself about what I should say. I could keep up the lie and tell Lucien that it was merely the moon sickness running through my blood. That was enough to make any man leave a woman alone and ask no further questions. Still, that would leave him confused and hating me when I left abruptly the next day. I could also tell him the truth, which would probably leave him feeling not too pleased with me either, but at least he wouldn't be confused. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and gave my answer.

"I'm not sick."

"That much is clear."

"I lied."

"That too."

"I'm sorry."

"Your apology is accepted, but that still doesn't answer my question. Miss Roberts, I am your employer and am concerned with your welfare as it influences my business…"

A sharp pang reverberated throughout my heart. I was just his employee and all he cared about was my performance on the job. I don't know what delusions I had entertained beforehand, but they all shattered at that moment.

"…but you are also a friend, a good friend, of mine, and friends do not just watch as one suffers in distress. Now, please…tell me, what's the matter on your mind?"

I couldn't help myself; my lower lip trembled and the tears began to fall once again. Why is everyone in this blasted inn so kind

"Well, I tend to employ people I like, and I tend to like kind people, so…" Lucien trailed off with a lopsided grin.

"I said that aloud?" I laughed a bit through my tears.

"Aye." He handed me his handkerchief. "Please, don't cry Belle. It can't be that horrible."

"Oh, but it is," I sniffled.

Lucien looked at me silently, probably running through all the different possible scenarios in his head. He could never imagine what I was about to say, though.

"I have to leave."

"But I must know what the matter is…"

"No, no…I meant…I have to leave…here…The Eve."

A series of emotions passed over his face, but it seemed he had finally settled on confusion. "May I enquire as to why you must leave?"

"To find my father," I answer in a small voice. "It's just something I have to do…I have to know. He is my father."

"He sired you, that does not mean he's your father."

My eyes flashed angrily. "So? Just because you had parents doesn't mean I can't try. My mother wished she could just forget about me, or that I would just die and my father never even knew I existed. Bellamy Roberts may not have been a real father, but he can be, and that's enough."

"I apologize," Lucien said after a moment. "I just don't wish for you to leave."

"I warred with myself about this; I don't really want to leave yo― the Eve either."

"When had you planned on leaving?"

My ears burned and a stress settled in the muscles of my back, pulling them taut. I searched for an easy answer, but came up wanting desperately. There was no easy way to say this, so I chose to just blurt it out.

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"At noon."

He turned and faced the shelves, resting both of his hands on the wall braces.

I felt as if I had to say something, anything, to make it seem less impulsive. "This is the only time I can go…if I miss this…I'll never know."

"Is never knowing so bad?" he asked in a strained voice, still facing the wall. I couldn't understand for the life of me why Lucien was so distressed. It's only been maybe three months since we've known each other…

I made my way towards him, but hesitated briefly before I let my hands rest on his shoulders. "All my life I've done for other people, I've never been able to do anything purely for myself. This is the one thing I feel I really have to do…for me, and only me."

"Just don't leave so soon," he said as he turned to face me. I let out a short breath of air as I noticed how little space was between us.

"I've told you, I have to leave at noon tomorrow. I'm sorry."

"Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind?"

I sighed. "Give me one good reason why I should turn my back on this, Lucien."

To my surprise, he actually considered my request and looked at me with total seriousness in his eyes. My breath caught in my throat once again as he took my hand in his and ran his thumb over the place where my pulse ran strong. I could feel my face getting hot and my mind growing fuzzier by the second. The same haze of tension that had fallen over us playing chess those few nights ago settled in the air of the spice pantry. I tried to focus on exactly what was going on, but the sweetly spiced and perfumed air and the fact that Lucien's breath was gently fanning over my face were making it difficult.

"What―" I breathed, but he placed a finger on my lips. My mouth went dry. Without thinking, I nervously licked my lips, forgetting his finger was still there. A low growl came from deep in Lucien's throat and I jumped slightly. What's happening?

He spoke with closed eyes. "Don't speak, just listen."

I nodded and he took his finger from my lips.

"If anyone had told me I would be in this situation when I met you three months ago, I would have laughed until I died, but here I am, asking you not to leave me, just as you asked me to hire you. The truth is, Oribelle Roberts, I love you―"

"Lucien―"

He held his hand up to stop me. "Remember, just listen. I don't know when I realized this, but there it is. You smile and I can't help but smile back, you look at me and I feel a stirring in my heart that I haven't felt in ages. I know I'm not the most expressive person, but believe me when I say…I believe in us. I know it is not proper, I know people will never understand…but there are some battles that the head must lose and the heart must win."

"Oh, Lucien," I cried. "Why now?"

He appeared to deflate. "You're still leaving?"

"Lucien, you are the reason I couldn't leave readily…as much as I love The Eve, it's only you that ties me to it, but I don't feel as though I could move forward with my life without truly knowing that past," I said with an apologetic air.

"Very well," he sighed. "You must promise me one thing, though."

"Anything."

"Promise me you will come back―"

"God willing."

"―because I will wait."

And with that he took the hand that he had been caressing and lifted it to his lips, pushing back my sleeve to lay a gentle kiss on the inside of my wrist. My eyes slid closed and I let a shuddering breath fall past my lips. Tears ran silently down my cheeks once more, but I smiled gently. As if by magic, I felt Lucien's eyes on me and I opened mine to stare back into his.

"Propriety, be damned," he muttered and in an instant one of his arms was around my waist, pulling me even closer, and the other threaded through my curls tenderly. Instinctively, I brought my arms to rest behind his neck and tilted my face up to his, leaning in slightly. His lips met mine softly and a pleasant shock ran through my entire body, warming me from my head to my toes. I lost myself in this new sensation, cinnamon air and strong yet gentle hands and soft, pressing lips.

"Lucien," I murmured against his mouth. He leaned his forehead against mine. My lips still tingled where his had pressed moments ago.

"You will come back."

"I will, I swear it."

"You must."

"I wouldn't leave for good, not after this."

"Good," he whispered, tracing my hairline with one finger. I shivered. "You should go to sleep; you've got a long day ahead of you."

I caught the wistfulness in his voice. "Alright, goodnight."

I turned and reached for the door handle.

"Wait."

He pulled me back to him and kissed me once more, but this was not the gentle kiss of moments ago. This was a kiss of desperation. His lips attached to mine hungrily, feasting on their fullness as if he would never taste them again. I gasped as I felt his tongue lick at the seal of my lips, giving him full entry to my mouth. His tongue played across mine, flicking and massaging, caressing with a skill that left me trembling when he pulled away.

I looked at him questioningly.

"Just wanted to be absolutely sure you would come back."

I smiled through apologetic tears. "Not even God could stop me."

With that I turned and made my way to my quarters to pack my bags.

Unfortunately for me, Lindy was not away doing random errands, she was lying on her stomach, paging through the Bible. She looked up when I closed the door.

"Well, hello…you've been crying."

"Aye," I sniffed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all. Nothing's wrong, it's just…Lindy, I'm really, truly sorry, but I have to…"

"You're leaving, too?"

"How did you―"

"A hunch, I guess. You don't have to apologize, Belle, it's your life."

"I suppose, but―"

"And I have enjoyed getting to know you in these past three months, and I will miss you, but something greater has come along hasn't it?"

"Not really greater, but leaving will help me understand some things about myself…I'm going to find my father."

"Oh, Belle, that's great," Lindy said, launching herself at me and throwing her arms around my neck. "I hope everything goes well for you."

I sighed heavily. "Me too."

"You just told Sir Foxwood, did you not?"

"Lindy, how on earth―"

"He came down here talking to Midge about you, and then we didn't see him or you for a while."

"Oh," I blushed. "Well, yes, I just told him…but I also promised him I would come back."

"Good, because he'll be dreadful without you here."

"I hardly think―"

"Before you got here, he was kindhearted, but never warm. When you came, he changed…for the better."

"Oh…"

"We'll all miss you, but I hope you find what you're looking for in your father," Lindy said in as serious a voice I had ever heard from her.

"Thank you, Lindy."

"I know you should probably be packing a bag right now…"

"I haven't got much to pack."

"Still…I'll leave you to it," Lindy smiled and hugged me one last time. "Don't change."

"I wouldn't dare."

She left me in the room and closed the door behind her. I sat on my bed for a few moments before finally making a move to fold my other dress and cloak and put them in a small bag. I left the bag at the foot of the bed before stretching out and closing my eyes. Tomorrow begins a journey that will lead me places I've only dreamt of. I would return though; I could never leave Lucien waiting for me. With that thought, I brought my fingertips to my still tingling lips…my first kiss. I smiled against my hand in contentment. I would return if only to feel his lips against mine once more.

Hey! Sorry it's been so long...school has been beating me with a baseball bat. It's soooo hard to concentrate when you're about to graduate (and you've got to wrap up a year long research project...damnit). Anyway! There was Ch. 8, hope you all enjoyed it!

Lil' Fairy Aerie'z In Lov: I haven't left, and I promise I won't be gone for that long again!

EvenSong: It was a long time coming, but I updated :-)...finally.

RDavies4Ever: Thank you. I was really worried about how the tavern scene would come off because I've never been in or seen a real fight before, so I just kept hoping it worked.

Elariel Erestorion: I love writing Oribelle...she's like my alter-ego. I never just blurt things out or act impulsively, so I let myself live a bit vicariously through her.