A/N: Sorry everyone that it has been so long since I got anything posted. Work is keeping away from the story. I have most of this week off so I hope to have more up. I know this part is a little boring but pleas R&R. There is a lot of important stuff in this little chapter. Enjoy!
Interim
Part Two
Meg wanted to scream as she stared at Philippe De Changy. He was tall with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes, which had belonged to his mother. He stood up right with and air of arrogance and a hint of pride. She had once found him charming, but now she despised him.
"What do you want?" She demanded from her high perch on the stairs.
Philippe turned and gave her a half smile. He had a great smile. It lit up a whole room and made you want to return the sentiment. However, this effect had vanished on Meg. She stood planted on the stairs, her eyes shining with hate.
"Nice to see you too, Meg," Philippe said kindly.
Meg shot him a glare. She hated when he came calling. It was like she was thrown into a trap that she didn't want to be caught near. She also detested the way he was kind to her. Since the day she had called off the wedding, he had been kind to her. He never tried to quarrel, he never said a cross word; he only stood there and smiled.
"I asked you what you wanted, Philippe," Meg said, her tone reflecting her mood.
"I'm actually here to see Gaston," Philippe replied.
Meg only shrugged. She had to do something to hide the shock and the pain. No matter how much she reviled him, she had hoped that he had come to see her. Take her back even, because no matter what she said and acted like she still loved him. She recovered her feelings and stepped down the stairs, walking past him.
"He's outside," she said coldly. "Perhaps one of he servants will find him for you."
Philippe smiled at the challenge. She was bad about bringing out the worst in him. He slowly followed her into the small study.
"Stop pretending that you dislike me so," he said, putting his hands on his hips.
Meg turned, surprised by his observation. She sighed and sat down. "Who says that I'm pretending?"
"Enough, Meg, it has been a year," Philippe said. He took a seat across from and her and sighed. "A terribly long year."
Meg knew very well how long and terrible it had been. She had spent weeks thinking of nothing but him. Now he was only an afterthought. She sometimes wore the sapphire engagement ring, but it was rare.
"Philippe," someone from the hall said.
Meg looked up from studying the fabric on the chair. Gaston was standing in the doorway with a half burned cigarette. Meg jumped to her feet ready to reprimand her brother.
"I know," Gaston said when she shot out of the chair. "Go outside."
Meg growled as she watched the two men walk outside onto the porch. She went to sit back down and caught her reflection in the mantle mirror. She looked so much like her mother with her dark hair and kind, green eyes. She pushed some of her unruly curls back and noticed a small, bright, red birthmark on her neck. It was no bigger than a small coin, but its shade of red made it distinctly noticeable. She rubbed her hand across it. Besides her father, Philippe was the only man in her whole life that had seen it. She groaned and walked upstairs.
"She's just like him," Gaston said, taking a puff on his cigarette.
Philippe gave him a funny look. He took a seat in the small, white, wicker chair.
"Meg is just like Father. She has to have everything on her terms." Gaston explained as he blew a smoke ring at a loose nail.
Philippe watched the young man. Gaston was a superb writer, but his bitterness toward his father had made him into a cynical, heartless man. Gaston sensed Philippe's assessment and turned away.
"Gaston, why did you want to see me?" Philippe asked.
"I need some information," Gaston replied rubbing his neck.
It was then that Philippe noticed the same red scaring that Meg had. Only Gaston's was worse. The whole birthmark spread across his neck and up under his chin. No matter what he could never hide it. Philippe looked away as Gaston turned to him.
"A gift from my father," Gaston said sullenly.
Philippe wanted to protest but didn't. He knew there was no reasoning with Gaston on the matter of his father. He was marked by a stigma that could never be taken away.
"What information do you want?" Philippe asked, praying to change the mood and the subject.
Gaston looked over at the young man who had come so close to be in his brother. It was amazing how life seemed to turn against everyone.
"I found some old records about a show. It listed all the jobs. My mother wasn't on it." Gaston said as he put out his smoke.
"That was probably when she was gone."
"Gone? What are you talking about?"
Philippe watched as a bird flew by. He knew that someday he would to talk about the time that his father had told him about. He had only wished that it was Meg or both of them. He sighed and turned to Gaston.
"You mother disappeared for two months."
