And yet another author's note:
Sorry to reverberate this one more time—but the chapters went through a bit of an upheaval—(author shakes a fist at FF). Lest you are unfamiliar with the introduction of Galen and Aubert, let me refer you back to chapter 4.
Continuing on...
The maid pulled open the door, her polite greeting diminishing as her eyes glanced upon the motionless child in the physician's arms.
Her eyes widening, she stumbled back, allowing the men inside.
"Prepare a guest room at once," Galen commanded, shifting the child in his arms, "and bring a basin a warm water and cloths. Make haste!"
The maid looked up with vacillation at her master. Aubert bowed his head. "Cosette, do as he asks."
Swallowing, the girl gave a short curtsy. "Yes, Monsieur." Stealing one last glance at the boy, she ran up the stairs.
Minutes later, the small, limp body rested beneath crisp sheets, blankets piled over him. Sitting beside the bed, Galen took a wet cloth, holding it just over the boy's masked face. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes met the anxious glances of Aubert and the attending servants.
"I would like to be left alone with the child for a time. I will call for someone as the need presents itself."
The servants' exited immediately. After a moment of hesitation, his brother followed suite.
When he heard the click of the door lock, Galen pulled away the damp, fabric mask. Letting out a slow breath, he looked upon the scared face evenly. He had seen alarming disfigurements in medical school, and read about much worse, though his familiarity amounted to nothing as he gazed upon the twisted flesh of this child. The right side of the boy's face was a crimson mess, the cheekbone nearly lost in the mound of scarred tissue extending from his forehead to his lower cheek, waning off at his lip. The cartilage on the side of his nose was wasted away, pulled into the adjoining flesh. Only the immediate area surrounding his right eye was blessedly untouched, long black lashes resting peacefully against the fevered skin.
Dipping the cloth once more in the water, the physician squeezed it out and pressed it to the boy's forehead, his hand gentle. Pulling up the blankets further, he turned to pull a bottle from the black bag resting beside him.
The hazel eyes opened.
Madame Gardnier strode through the entryway, throwing down her fur muff and coat onto a small, ornate table. "Cosette? Cosette!"
She paused in the mirror, adjusting the fit of her jade silk dress. The young maid appeared from the kitchen, her face white.
"My apologies, Madame, I did not know you had arrived."
The lady ignored her. "Where is my husband? And why is this house so dark? I can hardly see my own reflection."
The maid took a nervous curtsy.
"I am sorry, Madame. The household has been in a bit of disorder since the arrival of your husband's brother."
"Monsieur Galen is here?"
"Indeed, Madame…" the maid answered, biting her lip. Waving her off, the mistress of the house moved upstairs, nearly colliding into her husband.
Pausing on the stairs, he gave he gave her a weak smile.
"Jaclyn! I was not expecting such a prompt return…"
The lady snorted. "The Comtesse Picard's parties have been quite dull as of late. I had little cause to stay."
Her husband nodded absently, a frown crossing his features. The woman standing before him was every bit as beautiful as when they had met. He had been ambitious student then with hardly a thought for love. But beauty…every artist was vulnerable to its enchantment, and he had proved no different. It was folly never to notice it then—the humble daughter of a painter with dreams of grandeur. Oh, but they were such different dreams than his own—Jaclyn had never longed to create, to draw out beauty from the mundane. Instead, she transformed from the blushing girl he married into a haughty socialite, a child the only evidence of their sad union. His frown deepened. Apparently, they had both succeeded in their endeavors.
Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Aubert touched her arm. "Perhaps you join me in the sitting room?"
She pulled away. "The maid said your brother was here. Has he lost the manners to greet me?"
Aubert looked at her jadedly. "He is…preoccupied."
A large crash sounded upstairs, followed by the scrape of shoes against the floor. Jaclyn turned her head towards noise, pushing past her husband.
Galen appeared in the hall, shutting the door softly behind him. Smiling, he approached Jaclyn and gave a polite bow.
"It has been too long, Madame. I trust that you are well." Aubert privately chuckled at his brother's hasty but flawless composure, hoping his wife would not notice the few dirt specks still resting on the black suit.
Her sour expression shifted into one of pleasure.
"I am, thank you." She glanced back to her husband. "Aubert and I were going to take tea in the sitting room. You will join us, of course—there is so much to catch up on."
Galen inclined his head once more. "It would be my pleasure. If you may excuse me a moment, Madame, I must speak a word privately with your husband."
Jaclyn's smile straightened a fraction, though she did as he bade. Aubert motioned for his brother to follow him into this study.
Closing the door, Galen regarded his brother levelly.
"She cannot see him, nor can any other member of this household, save myself…at least for now."
"Jaclyn does not even know…"
"It would be most imprudent to deny this request. Do I have your word?
Aubert shook his head. "Why this curious demand, Galen? And what was the all the commotion?"
The physician paused.
"You recall the fabric mask sheltering the boy's face."
His brother nodded.
"There was just cause for it—the child has a deformity unlike anything I have ever seen—quite unnerving to the callow eye. I would not wish anyone's nerves to be frayed, nor do I want the boy to endure another…episode."
Aubert gave him a confused look. Galen continued. "He woke, quite affrighted from having the mask removed, and no doubt, the strange environment. If not for his weakened condition, I doubt I could have restrained him."
"And now?"
"He sleeps, though under a dose of laudanum sufficient for a grown man."
The architect was silent for a long moment.
"Do I have your word, Aubert?" Galen pursued, his eyes serious.
His brother nodded.
"Are you mad? His presence will bring the ruin of the household!"
"I assure you, Madame," Galen said slowly, his tone restrained, "that the boy is not taken with consumption, but rather lung fever and the effects of malnourishment. With proper attention, he should recover quickly."
"Jaclyn…"Aubert said softly. Setting her teacup down roughly, his wife stood.
"I want to hear no more…my head aches. If you would excuse me…"
There was a long moment of silence after the swishing of her skirts against the marble floors could be heard no more.
Aubert glanced over at the grandfather clock, sighing. "Regrettably, Galen, I must also bid you goodnight. I have been away from my work long enough today." He looked up in the direction of the boy's room.
"I regret imposing on you in such a manner…" Galen started.
Aubert raised a hand to stop him, his eyes pensive.
"Do not apologize, Galen, for doing what most of us would not."