Chapter 20: Gerard
December 25, 1785
They arrived early in the morning. Waking from a restless sleep, she raised her head from Lafayette's shoulder just as Georges stirred in her lap. Her little son yawned, thoroughly irritated from the lack of bed, food and warmth. Jefferson, her husband and her had chatted thoroughly into the night, the former updating the latter on the comings and goings of France.
Jefferson himself stretched, his legs twitching as if wanting to but the withering glare she sent him gave him pause. No way was she letting him taking up more space than his ego already did.
"Bonjour," her husband murmured sleepily and for a moment, it was as if all strife had been forgotten. His dark gaze met her green one and he pressed a gentle kiss on her brow. Clearing his throat of its hoarseness, he turned his attention to his still sleeping daughter. "Emmeline, ma petite, wake up."
"Cinq minutes de plus." She protested, golden-brown hair falling over her still closed eyes. Lafayette gave a defeated sigh, still too tired to argue as Jefferson opened the door. Springing out with the youth of someone who had not just been travelling in a cramped carriage for nearly a week, he took his cane and spun around with a wide smile.
"Paris, the city of love and lights." He announced almost proudly but it was anything but. Exiting the carriage, Lafayette carried his sleeping daughter as Genevieve helped her son down. The native Frenchman looked around, feeling his gut weighed down. It felt like it was not the same home he had left nearly a decade ago. Everything was drained of color and as the neighbors of the rue Dauphine sent suspicious glowers or moved a little too hurriedly, Lafayette felt completely disjointed.
"I didn't know that was a new way of saying dreary, dreadful and just like a hungry wolf." Genevieve muttered, tugging at her dress as a citizen passed by one of them, sending them a wicked side-glance.
It was definitely not the same home. If he thought the port they had left the ship on was unfriendly, Paris was downright antagonistic. He couldn't help but agree with Genevieve. As a young boy, he knew that change was always unavoidable - both within him and in the city. And it was all true. He, after all, was returning after nearly a decade with a wife and two beautiful children. Now almost an American celebrity of sorts and in correspondence with some of the more powerful people in the growing country, he couldn't help but wonder if these friends would aid him in the coming explosion in the streets of Paris.
The city was just as Genevieve described it. Like a hungry wolf, it was waiting for just a tangible piece of meat before it snapped its jaws. Impatient, angry and defensive. Lafayette didn't want to be the one who had to subdue the forces when one thing gave way. He knew that as soon as one thing shifted, everything else would tumble down and that somehow, he would be dragged into it.
He just prayed his family could escape before blood could even touch the cobblestones of Paris.
They began to walk up the rue Saint-Dominique as Jefferson prattled on. He strolled as if he were the one born here and his brilliantly colored clothes gave them the ability to see their 'guide' from mile away.
It seemed the life was sucked out of the city. As Genevieve admired the architecture of some of the buildings, pointing out to Georges some statues and such, Lafayette kept in pace with the minister.
"You are staying in town, I presume."
"Obviously." He rolled his eyes and Lafayette fought the same urge, "Hôtel de Langeac, Avenue des Champs-Élysées on the right bank. Find me if you need me. Anyway, your audience with the king…"
"The day after tomorrow."
"He was generous to give you a day to rest. For all we know, he could've asked you to come immediately." He quipped. "I assume that you will brief me upon your return."
"As always," Lafayette, although didn't particularly liked him, admired how confident he was in such a virulent environment even though it bordered - most often crossing that line - on panache. If only I could bolster myself the same way, he sighed.
"Is there anything we must address once we're there?" Genevieve entered their conversation, a raised eyebrow accompanied by a set jaw giving the impression that she did expect one. Jefferson looked on the other side of him, surprised.
"No." She visibly relaxed when Lafayette answered. "It is just audience. The King wants to know if I will overthrow him, no doubt." His arms ached to wrap around his wife but her previous words stayed in his mind. The fact that she was reserved, drawn away and on the other side of Jefferson made him already miss America where he could kiss and hold his wife whenever he pleased.
"Good. The children will be missing us." She nodded shortly though her eyes held his for just a moment longer. We're almost there, love, she seemed to say even though she barely knew this twisting, winding city of mazes. His shoulders relaxed. No matter what, his wife was on his side.
"Is there something I'm missing?" The minister inquired, puzzled. Throughout the whole trip, they had been relatively friendly - even sickly sweet in their romantics - what had changed?
"Absolutely not," Genevieve snapped frigidly although Lafayette couldn't tell if it was because of her genuine dislike for him or if she was that good of an actress. He favored the former.
"We're here." Lafayette paused, eyeing the house in the distance. A little white lie never did any harm. "Thank you for the escort, Monsieur Jefferson. We can handle it from here."
"Of course. Adieu," he gave another bow full of éclat, hand extended to his side, the other to his chest as he almost bent in half. He hesitated before offering a hand in Genevieve's direction. Emmeline was beginning to stir as the ambassador kissed the woman's hand before spinning around.
"We will be in touch," Lafayette offered as a farewell and they watched until the Virginian was nothing more than a speck of blinding magenta.
"Papa, où sommes-nous?"
"Home," he said softly. Genevieve sent him an inquisitive look. Now that there were less people around them, she could let her guard down. "At least, in the next two blocks." Together, they walked towards the Hôtel de Lafayette that he had left long ago. It was still all brilliant architecture and white pillars, all hedges kept in shape and bushes full of flowers past their bloom. "Do not tell your sister about here." He begged playfully over her shoulder and she sent him a bright smile that reached her cheeks.
It was a sight for sore eyes. "Why? Because she'll know I live in what looks like a palace?" Georges ran up to his father, tugging on his trousers.
"Papa, is this ours?" He asked, eyes wide as the marquis gestured for Genevieve to take Emmeline. Doing so, the brunette watched him take out a slim key, shiny with disuse. Slipping it into the lock, he twisted the knob before ushering his son in.
"Yes, now wipe your feet and take off your chaussures." He prompted. Genevieve stroked her daughter's hair, keeping her in her arms as she nudged the door closed behind her and slipped off her heels. Feet aching, she sighed when it touched the cold tile. Behind closed doors, she finally allowed herself to relax completely.
"Put me down, Mama," Emmeline hid her question in an order and, laughing slightly, Genevieve set her daughter down on the stairs as Georges ran ahead.
"It's so big here!" He yelled and this time, Lafayette chuckled. Slipping into her husband's arms, the marquise sighed and kissed his jaw.
"I think they will like it here, if only for a little while." She mused aloud. "Emmeline might need some help but she'll learn to love it too." Her daughter walked after her little brother, steps slower as she slowly woke from her sleep.
"I hope so. It's good to be home… yet I feel like this hasn't been mine for a long time." She let her eyes flutter shut as he guided her through the hall.
"That apartment was home for a long time." She whispered and he nodded.
"Monsieur Lafayette!" A stern voice yelled and Lafayette winced, a sheepish smile replacing his serious mask. "Ou as-tu? Sont-ils tes enfants?" A hurried man came down the hall with the twins trailing behind him. He was dressed in a dark waistcoat and a white shirt underneath.
"Gerard, je suis ici." Her husband called and the man came over. "It is good to see you." Gerard took the towel that was laid over one shoulder and slapped Lafayette's arm. "Ow!" Georges giggled, walking over to his father and hugging his leg.
"Tu as fui à un autre pays! Je suis furieux, monsieur!"
"Sorry, sorry!" Lafayette put up his hands in defence when Gerard battered his forearms. Genevieve, meanwhile, couldn't stop the peals of laughter as Emmeline ran towards his mother. She stifled her laughs when Lafayette sent her a half-glare. "Genevieve, this is Gerard. The man who essentially raised me since my parents passing. Gerard," a proud smile, "this is my wife."
"Genevieve," extending a hand, she hugged Emmeline towards her on instinct.
"Monsieur Lafayette has told me a lot about you - not enough it seems." Another glare at his former ward but this time it was more playful. The butler took her hand, bowed and kissed her knuckles.
"Well, Lafayette hasn't told me anything about you so he's in even more trouble." Emmeline marched up to Gerard, deeming him to be a friend and she picked up the ends of her skirts and curtseyed clumsily.
"Bonjour, je m'appelle Emmeline." Georges watched his older sister as Gerard crouched down. Genevieve found it endearing how shy her son was. "Georges, come!" Reluctantly, he joined his sister and together they started introducing themselves.
"Was this supposed to be a surprise?" She murmured to her husband who tilted his head to listen to her. Her fingers flitted across his stubbled jaw and a tender expression crossed both of their faces. Eyes at half-mast, she kissed his lips. Drawing away, she gave him a smile that she only reserved for him and hugged him closer.
"Perhaps," he mused softly and she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. "Come on, let's get something to eat." They started off after their children and Gerard who had taken off already.
.
After a quick dinner which Gerard had prepared - much to their chagrin - the two parents slid into bed. "Are you sure it'll be okay?" He looked down at her from where she was tucked in towards his chest. The warm meal settled comfortably in her stomach and she felt exhausted.
"No, not really." He said honestly, "but we will pull through. I'll miss the few hours you are kind to me," he tried to tease but it came off weak. It wasn't that she was unkind, it was more that she was dismissive. Only time would tell if her act would work, especially on the monarchy. If it appeared that she was detached and only cared about her children, perhaps then his family would be safe. No matter what he did, they were out of harm's way.
God, he despised the game of lies and bluffs and he knew that his wife did too, no matter how much she enjoyed it at times.
"I'm sorry," she rasped, "I hate politics sometimes." He brushed her cheek with his thumb.
"I know, but Emmeline and Georges need to be safe. They need to grow up and enjoy the fruits of our labour."
"But if we didn't have our children-"
"Never say that," he admonished. A guilty expression crossed her face before dissolving.
"You know what I meant." Her breaths puffed across his collarbone as she came closer. "I could support you, stand by your side. I love our children, with all my heart, I do. But that means my priority isn't you anymore - it's them - and I hate it."
"Your priority should never have been me, mon amour." This time, a slight chuckle reverberated in her throat.
"Has yours always been me before the children were born?" She challenged playfully and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, not answering. "Exactly. I just wish things were different. That this revolution wouldn't end in bloodshed but I know it will. If things were different..."
"They will be," a hopeful smile tugging at his lip, "I have to believe in such otherwise there is no hope at all."
"Your optimism, She sighed, closing her eyes as the soft footsteps in the hall echoed. "It never ceases to amaze me." Gerard was probably making sure the twins were sleeping. The man stopped at their door and they raised their heads when he knocked.
"Madame et monsieur?"
"Come in," the grey-haired man came in, a lit candle in a metal holder. Lafayette raised his head wearily. The château, although normally vacant, was now full of life despite only five occupants. The smell of cooked meat filled the house as well as soap from when Genevieve had bathed her children. Gerard, still dressed in his black vest, gave a tired smile.
"I am sorry to bother you but mademoiselle Emmeline is putting up a fuss. She still is not asleep and monsieur Georges won't sleep until his sister is as well." Genevieve sighed, kissing her husband and getting up. The warm duvets slipped off her nightgown and she rubbed her arms. Despite some of the fires in the house, she still felt the chill pierce her shift. Lafayette sat up, watching as Genevieve went over to Gerard.
"I'll be back in no time," she promised before closing the door behind her.
"Is monsieur Lafayette not accompanying us?" Gerard asked, a bit puzzled. At Genevieve's own confused look, he explained, "He informed me in one of his letters that each child has their own parent they favour."
"When they are having trouble sleeping, I fear Lafayette isn't skilled in that department. After all, some things only a mother can do." She gave the butler a warm smile before entering the room her children were in. Sitting down on Emmeline's bed, she stroked her daughter's golden-brown hair before humming a gentle melody. Georges, already adoring Gerard, allowed the man to pick him up and bring him over to his mother.
"Mama, I do not like where we are." Emmeline whimpered and Genevieve bent down to kiss her forehead. "I want to go home."
"This is our new home." She murmured, fully understanding her daughter's plight, "I'm not used to it either. Do you think if I sing, it will make you feel better?" Nodding at Gerard as a dismissal, she waited until he was gone and the door was nearly shut before turning to look at Georges in her lap who obstinately refused to let his eyes shut.
"I want to see Uncle Bennett," Georges mumbled, fist rubbing at his eyes. Feeling exhaustion weaved into her bones, she realized that the homesickness couldn't be cured by just a simple lullaby. Getting an idea, she rose. Cradling her son to her chest, she picked up her daughter haphazardly who wrapped her arms instinctively tight around her mother's neck.
"You two are a handful, quite literally," she muttered, nudging the door open with her foot as the twins just mumbled incoherently. They hadn't slept together in one big bed since the children were about a year and a half but this was an exception. Moving an ocean over seemed acceptable enough a reason.
The door to their room was still open and Genevieve pushed it open and let her children down on the bed. Emmeline crawled toward Lafayette who was still awake. The marquis picked up his daughter as Genevieve closed the door and crawled back into bed. Placing Georges in the space between their big bed, she pulled the covers up as Emmeline joined her brother in between her parents.
"Bonne nuit," Emmeline murmured out of habit and curled in toward her brother who cuddled against his mother. Lafayette stretched an arm across them and hugged Genevieve whose legs tangled with his. In the end, they were all just a big exhausted mess trying to sleep.
"Bonne nuit," three tired voices chorused back as finally, sleep was casted upon them.
A/N: Hello! This update came much later than I expected and now I'm like really tired so I'll answer guest reviews next chapter, argh, sorry! Thank you to all your support it really meas so much to me! Until next time!