Dear Faithfuls:
Yet another long chapter, and I dare say it could have been much longer had I had time to touch on all of our characters. April will be another busy month it seems, but I will post at least twice each week. I trust that everyone is doing well. I am still reading your reviews and appreciate your thoughts! Take care!
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Erik's head rested against Christine's chest. Her dress soaked in tears intermingled from both their sorrows. His emotions had not flowed so freely as they were now in the comfort of her pardoning embrace. Inhaling he drew in a staggered breath. He closed his eyes; Christine's soothing caress eased his tempered soul. Her fingers ran through his hair aimlessly; her singular lamenting wish that she could allay his burdens. She'd learned to comfort him in this way, and she employed it effectively whenever she had need to calm him. Her other hand lay on his back, it too moving in gentle strokes.
Christine sniffed; though her sorrows were abating, her tears had yet to fully subside. Erik's secrets were still locked within him, and she knew not what he had to tell her, thought at this point it mattered little. What he'd needed most was to know that she loved him, unconditionally loved him and would face down with him whatever demons caused him such great pain. She'd never observed Erik like this, and it worried her in part and angered her in part. Whoever or whatever had done such evil to his soul that he'd carried the scars of such burden from it all those years, deserved no less than her undying reproach. His deep sobs had led her to the greatest of tears, for in them she heard his pleading to be healed, to be forgiven….to be released from the grips of what tormented him so. She was so young….so young….perhaps in some ways far too young to understand a pain that went so deep in one's soul. The physical comforts of touch, and the reassurances of her words, were all that she could truly offer him. She could only pray that it, coupled with his confession would release him once, and for all time, of the great pains that he held so doggedly within him.
Erik's hand ran along Christine's stomach. One of the children's limbs pressed along the edge that touched his chest. His hand easily following it now…it was a foot, yes a foot indeed, and the only thing that separated Erik's touch from his child were the few layers of protective skin of Christine's womb. Oh how he loved what yet he could not see. He looked up at the tear stained face of his most beloved…and oh how he loved what indeed he could see…to him, she was the most beautiful creature that had ever taken breath.
Christine's hand glided beneath his face, cupping his chin in her hand. "If I could reach you my love, I'd bestow upon those wonderful lips a most ardent kiss, but it seems our children have come between us." She smiled sweetly at him as she ran both of her hands over his cheeks and under his eyes, removing the traces of his tears. He looked so fragile, so broken, so vulnerable. "Come my love, sit with me," her hand traveling the breadth of his strong shoulder as she spoke.
Her touch would forever run shivers up and down his spine. Even through all of this she still moved him. Erik looked up at her soft features. The pink of her lips, the delicate tip of her nose, those wondrous and engulfing eyes….they beckoned him like a supplicating well to a traveler parched in the heat of a desert's summer. He was powerless against her wishes. Leaning back, his hand never leaving her stomach, he tried to stand. His knees protested, his legs felt numb from having sat in one locked position at length.
"It seems my dear that my feet have fallen asleep!" The pair laughed. A relieved air about their tone told the other that whatever came in the ensuing conversation, the mourning had been done, and they'd nothing to do but finish the description of it.
Slowly Erik rose, managing to lean on the end of the divan to erect himself. His shirt entirely soaked it lay heavy and cold now separated from the warmth of Christine's body; he shivered.
Christine looked about the room, nothing in sight for him to aid him. "Erik, if you remove it, your flesh will dry. Here," she stood, "allow me to take it up, I will hang it on the chair by the fire, it shall dry whilst we talk."
Erik watched as Christine un-tucked the lower edges of his shirt from the waist of his pants, gently removing the garment from his shoulders. He shivered yet again as his eyes followed Christine to the chair where she hung his shirt to dry, sliding it a bit closer to the warmth of the fire. She returned to him, running her hands along his chest. It was still damp and cold. Instinctively she blew on his flesh; the moisture evaporated under the warmth of her breath. Erik closed his eyes; he'd never forget the sensation.
Christine ran her hands down Erik's shoulders as she looked up into his eyes. "I love you Erik." He was all the more handsome to her now; it was something about his vulnerability, his sincerity, his trust in her.
Erik's lips quivered as he leaned down, his lips embracing hers. He drew her to him, a tingle running through him as the flesh that covered her collarbone pressed against his. A deep sigh escaping him involuntarily. His heart had been opened and splayed, and he longed for her, even now…under these circumstances. "Christine…"
Christine's hands wandered to his, their fingers intertwining she drew his hands to her back and the laces and ribbons of her dress. There she abandoned them, her own returning to his chest. Slowly her warm palms smoothed over the broadness of his torso until at last they crested his shoulders and ran the length of them coming to rest behind his neck. "Erik," she whispered into his ear as she drew his face even closer. She could not deny what they felt in that moment. It would be her final reassurance to him that nothing that he could tell her would ever detract from the love and affections she held for him within her.
Erik looked down into Christine's eyes. "But my dear Christine…" he said with momentary hesitation in his voice. Christine's finger finding its way quickly to his lips silencing his utterances. She shook her head just once from side to side. Her hand sliding once more behind his neck drawing him closer to her. He inhaled, he too could not deny what he felt in that moment, and she, it seemed, had no want to deny it either.
Erik's hands, now quite adept at the laces and binds of her garments made no difficulty of removing them. There she stood before him in all of her beautiful glory, the swollen flesh of her abdomen glowing in the light of the fire. To Erik she'd never been more magnificent, nor desirable.
He leaned down to embrace her, lifting her carefully from her feet, carrying her to the divan, carefully laying down with her there. He looked but once more into the reassurance of her eyes. There was nothing he would not give her, nothing he would not sacrifice for her. And she….she had given him everything, and now…even now…she gave him still more.
XXXXX
Nicole leaned her head against the door in her bedchamber as she heard the outer door close. She heard muffled voices, recognizing it to be that of her soon to be father-in-law.
"What say you we slice into the wonderful cake?" There was something about the comfort of family and friends that he'd missed all those years. This cake was to be enjoyed in the midst of happiness. Most of what he consumed in the presence of others had been at the funeral dinners where most everyone barely ate and those that did were looked upon as callous infidels.
"In but a moment father, we shall have dessert, but first may I ask of you, all of you, if you would be so kind as to bare witness to a joyous occasion." John Paul offered, his voice quivering just slightly under the strain of his welling emotions.
Katherine rose, walking past him she lay her hand reassuringly on his forearm, glancing up at him.
John Paul smiled, he breathed a bit easier, at least one person had been taken into Nicole's confidences and even now provided him a bit of comfort.
Katherine moved quietly beyond him opening and closing the door to Nicole's bedchamber. "Are you ready Nicole?" she whispered as quietly as she could.
Nicole had gone to the single chair in the room beside her bed. As Katherine entered she looked up at her, such confusion dancing across her face. "It is all happening so fast…" she glanced over at the bed. She felt light headed. "A wedding, but no marriage of…." She could not bring herself to say it.
Katherine smiled to herself, sensing the great disappointment in Nicole's voice. A wedding without a wedding night made it feel as though it all weren't real at all. In that moment, her efforts of the hours previous pleased her immensely.
"Do not worry my dear Nicole, I've but a surprise for you, and you shan't protest, not even one word, when I tell you of it." She went to Nicole's side taking both of her hands as she came to rest on the edge of the bed facing her.
Nicole's face grew confused further still. "Of what do you speak?"
Katherine reached up her hands pinching at Nicole's cheeks to give them a bit of color. Her hands tucking in the stray wisps of hair that strayed beyond the veil. "This night, you shall not be staying here with your mother." She gave Nicole a knowing glance as her eyes lit as if she would begin her objections, for she knew her dear friend well. "You've not to worry, there are no free rooms at the Inn to be sure, but you shan't be staying here. I have already arranged to spend the night here tending to your mother."
Katherine again shook her head as Nicole tried to speak. "Nicole, a wedding night is most sacred, and two shall not be separated from it if it at all can be helped." She patted Nicole's hands. "Whilst I was out retrieving the rest of our meal, I paid a bit of a visit to John Paul's….nay…your house…and let us just say that it waits for its master and mistress to return to it this evening." She smiled at Nicole, tapping the end of her nose. "You my dear would have done no less for me had the situations been reversed, you know that to be true!"
Nicole lowered her head. There was no argument to be made, Katherine was most correct, she'd have attempted the impossible. She and Katherine had many a hand in making wedding nights beautiful for brides and grooms who stayed at the Inn. They'd often done a great many things to make such evenings special for the young couples, for to them it was the pinnacle of romance and they found such great joy in it.
"However can I thank you Katherine…" she looked into her friend's eyes with such gratitude.
Katherine inhaled, and took Nicole's hands into hers she looked at her most seriously. "Go out into that room and marry the man whom you love….live happily ever after. That is how you may show your gratitude." She smiled at Nicole. "Live to love one another, and bring your children to see me….that is all that I require of you."
Nicole stood, embracing Katherine. She'd never had a sister, but if she had, she rather imagined she couldn't have felt any closer to her than she did Katherine. She'd been a true and loyal friend.
Katherine looked at Nicole. "Now my dear friend it is time. When you leave here this night you shall be Madame Nicole Perdue, wife of Chauesser's physician." She smiled at her. "Though you would protest yet further, I do not want to see you again until Tuesday when you shall join your mother and I for lunch at the tavern."
"But Katherine….that is two nights, the care, the…" Nicole quieted, she knew by the look in Katherine's eyes there would be no talking her out of it. "Katherine, your fiancé?"
Katherine was straightening Nicole's veil. "Do not worry for him. I dare say it would be best for him to become accustomed to my caring for my friends for I've no intentions to stop even after we are married. Little did you know, poor thing that you are, that when you befriended me some years ago that you'd never be rid of me…I am your friend for life my dear!"
Nicole heard footsteps outside the door, and a small rap of knuckles against the grain of it. "Nicole?" It was the pastor. "We are ready for you my dear."
Katherine turned her about, her hands firmly on her shoulder looking her at her squarely as she lowered the veil over Nicole's tear filled eyes. "Go out my dear and embrace the happiness you have so long deserved." She lifted the veil quickly placing a peck on Nicole's cheek. "You are ready to meet your groom my dear." She slipped her hand into Nicole's and walked her over to the door, placing her other on the latch.
Nicole paused before the door opened, "thank you" she said with her lips, not uttering a sound.
Katherine looked into the eyes of her friend, closing her own she nodded, "anything for you my dear." The pair looked at one another and inhaled as they opened the door.
The room was not silent as she'd expected it would be. There was the most melodious of sounds coming from the front of the flat. There stood John Paul's father, piccolo in hand playing a beautiful melody; Nicole recognized it at once. It had been the one John Paul had requested of the violinist that had played for them for dinner the evening previous. She smiled. As she rounded the corner her eyes met her mother's tear-stained face. Katherine took her hand and placed it in her mother's hand and went off to sit with her fiancé.
"Nicole my dear…" her mother said, squeezing her hand. She led her out into the room where all others might see her.
There in front of the fireplace was the pastor and John Paul, awaiting his bride. His face was glowing as he watched Nicole and her mother walk the few steps toward them.
Nicole's mother lifted the veil, placing a kiss on her daughter's cheek. She ran her hand along her chin. Then she turned to John Paul. He leaned down allowing her to place a kiss on his as she gave him Nicole's hand. She looked up at the pair, a happiness she'd not felt in so long she'd nearly forgotten it. She nodded and bowed just once and then returned to her chair.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this night to join in holy matrimony this man and this woman, who have pledged before me their wish to become husband and wife. This agreement is not to be entered into lightly, nor born out of convenience alone, but to reflect the deepest desires of their hearts that the two shall no longer be parted flesh but be united in marriage and in one spirit…."
The group sat totally and completely enthralled in the enchantment of it all. It mattered little that lightening was returning to the night sky, or that the rains would surely come. Inside that tiny flat a love shone so brightly it had the candle light of a hundred suns. To bear witness to such event could be likened to the birth of a child. A singular event producing new flesh…fragile…and in need of the most tender care.
"John Paul, do you take this woman to have and to hold from this day forward, forsaking all others, promising to love her in sickness and in health until in death you are parted?"
John Paul looked into Nicole's eyes. She was a beautiful creature to be sure, but what he loved about her was deep within her, the part of her that would never change with age, love her until death? Nay, he was certain he would love her far beyond the grasps of the grave. "I shall".
The pastor turned to Nicole. "Nicole, do take this man to have and to hold from this day forward, forsaking all others, promising to love him in sickness and in health until in death you are parted?"
Tears were streaming down Nicole's cheeks as she looked up into John Paul's glistening eyes, she pushed back her tears, "yes…yes I shall."
Katherine was sitting between her fiancé and Nicole's mother, squeezing both of their hands tightly. She'd been to dozens of weddings in Chauesser, and several fine ones in Paris, and in all of those, in all of their lavish splendor, she'd not seen one so beautiful or meaningful as this.
John Paul reached into his pocket retrieving the ring he'd stowed there. He nodded at the pastor.
Repeat after me, "Nicole, accept this ring as a token of my love and undying affections, wearing it as a symbol of our love and fidelity, may it bring you happiness all the days of your life." He slid the ring onto Nicole's finger next to the ring he'd already given her. He lifted her hands to his lips sealing the rings with a kiss.
The pastor looked at Nicole, she shook her head but once. She'd no ring to offer him. But then from behind her came a hand on her shoulder and another outstretched at her side, a singular gold band lay in its palm. She inhaled, batting back the tears that were welling in her eyes. She looked up to see the face of John Paul's father. She glanced down at his hand. The band that lay in his palm now was his own. She knew of the love he had for his wife, and how he bitterly missed her since her passing. This band was all he had left of her.
Nicole looked at him with pleading eyes, there was no time for questions. He nodded. She reached out and took the band, squeezing his hand as she did. She looked up once more into his eyes before he turned away and returned to his seat. She turned to face John Paul who was now visibly crying. His father's gesture having entirely undone him.
The pastor smiled, "Nicole, repeat after me, John Paul, accept this ring as a token of my love and undying affections, wearing it as a symbol of our love and fidelity, may it bring you happiness all the days of your life." She slid the ring onto his finger, she too sealing his with a kiss.
The pastor sighed, he too was moved by the gestures of the marriage. Each had contributed to the couple's happiness in their own way. "Now by the powers vested in me by our heavenly father, and France itself, I pronounce you husband and wife."
John Paul's gaze had never left Nicole's. She was his wife now, to have and to hold, to love and be loved by. He was never as happy as he was in that moment…time seemed to stand still.
Nicole's eyes were welling as she looked at him, a great smile now spreading across her face, she whispered, "my husband…" as her hand gently slid along the length of his jaw.
John Paul leaned down, looking even deeper into her eyes, he lifted his hand to her chin, guiding it with his finger. "My wife…." He leaned in, their lips lightly touching. A cheer rose from the group, including the pastor who quite normally remained serious and stoic at such events, but even he could not remain unmoved by such intimate happiness.
John Paul's father lifted the piccolo once more to his lips, a lively happy song flowing from the instrument in celebration of the marriage.
The others rose each going to the couple sharing their congratulations and blessings.
Nicole's mother held fast to the chair she was leaning on for strength. "Thank you" she murmured below her breath. "Thank you for this blessing." She pressed her eyes tightly closed, pushing aside the tears of joy. There would be plenty of time for thanksgiving once she retired for the evening.
She walked over to the pair looking up at John Paul, "I'd always wanted a son!" She said happily placing a kiss on his hand.
"And I a daughter dear lady," came the voice of John Paul's father from behind them. "It seems we have many reasons to celebrate this night." He smiled at them. "Now what of this delicious cake and champagne I've been hearing about?"
John Paul laughed as he watched his father walk into the kitchen. He looked down at his new mother-in-law. "Mother, you see he's never met a chocolate cake of any sort that he didn't find most agreeable!" The trio began to laugh.
Katherine and her fiancé had busily poured the champagne and put the kettle on to boil for a bit of coffee.
The room was swarming with happiness and laughter. For a brief moment John Paul leaned down, smiling warmly into Nicole's eyes, "my wife….what a wonderful pair of words, I think I shall say them over and over again…my wife…my wife…my wife." He smiled at her leaning down to place an affectionate kiss on her lips. His kisses traveling to her ear he began to whisper. "In the fall my love I shall take you into Paris where we might have a proper honeymoon. Until then Nicole, please know that my affections for you will grow even more." He placed another kiss on her temple as she stood up once more.
"John Paul…" Nicole said, a bit of hesitation in her voice, "it seems…you see…" she batted her eyes sheepishly, even now as his wife she blushed at the thought of it.
"Whatever is it Nicole?" He slid his hand reassuringly over hers.
"It seems that Katherine has…you see…" Nicole felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Now let me have a look at him again, a married man…who can believe it?" Katherine said in a disarming tone. "Nicole I think your mother needs you." She glanced over her shoulder.
Nicole and John Paul both looked up, a momentary concern easily abated as they saw she was smiling, motioning with her finger that she wished to see Nicole.
"Do you mind at all," Nicole said, already missing him though she still held his hand.
He leaned down kissing her temple. "You will always be there for your mother, whatever and whenever she might have need for you." His hand gently releasing Nicole's as she moved forward.
She walked toward her mother, glancing back over her shoulder to see Katherine no doubt explaining what she'd shared with her about the evening's preparations for he too was shaking his head, a bit of a blush rising on his neck. She smiled. She knew of Katherine's power of persuasions, he'd not be able to dissuade her.
Nicole reached her mother's side, taking her hand quickly going into her mother's bedchamber and closing the door. Her mother said not a word but went to her wardrobe and retrieved a box. She walked back to Nicole. "This my dear…this is for you." She smiled as she handed it to her.
Nicole looked down, it was from a rather famous lace maker in Paris. "Mother where did you…"
"It is not for you to worry my dear." She patted Nicole's hand.
Nicole removed the cover. The tissue paper had not a wrinkle in it, and was of pale blue. "Mother…this is….this is new…" she slid the long white lace gown from the box. It was beautiful and flowing, layers of lace and sheer fabric, so elegant it seemed too pretty to be a nightdress. "How did you…." She couldn't have imagined how it could have come to pass.
Her mother patted her hand again. She'd not be confessing that it was Katherine who'd given it to her. It was the one she had bought for her own wedding night not a month before when she'd been in Paris. It had been fated she'd bought it so early, now it was as it should be.
Nicole folded it and put it back in the box. She went to her mother. "I love you mamma, and I shan't think of leaving you…" her guilt in leaving her mother even for but a few nights weighing heavily on her.
Her mother shook her head. "You are a bride now my dear, you've other things to think of aside from your mother. Katherine and I shall have a most wonderful time here my dear, you're not to worry, not to worry." She patted her daughter's hands again. "Now, let us go out and have some of that glorious cake before John Paul's father eats every crumb of it!"
The pair laughed as they walked back toward the door. Nicole stopped, leaning down to place a kiss on her mother's temple. They squeezed one another's hands and opened the door.
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Lady C did not flinch as the woman came to stand before her. She'd the oddest feeling about a stranger she'd ever beheld in her life; a great loathing had grown steeply in her as the woman approached, though the origin of it baffled her. She was cautious of strangers to be sure…but this feeling went far beyond caution, she dared say it was a hatred of the most scornful kind. Were it the woman's dress, or manner, or her boldness, she knew not, but nor could she deny what she felt instinctively. It was that uneasy intuition that so oft plagued her, but she'd learned to trust it without question.
Andre watched her, a bit unnerved by the look in Lady C's eye. He felt he should defend her…felt as obliged to buffer her from whatever this woman wanted…as surely as if she were his own mother. He rose just as the woman came to the edge of the table. His stature was nearly four fingers greater than hers, and his shoulders broad and protective, his chest now puffed and protruding, he stood erect.
"What travels bring you to see us Madame that you should find cause to interrupt our most private dinner? Have you no compassion for the wishes of this small village to respect the quietness they observe now for Dickens?" Andre was not more than a half meter from the woman, and though she was undaunted by his presence, he would neither look away nor retreat.
"Young man, you are a most certain companion for such a fine woman. I dare say I bring you no malice." She said in her serpentine tone. Inside she was seething at his audacity, no one talked to her with such boldness. "I heard mention of a village I'd heard much about, Chauesser I should say…it's not commonly discussed in this part of the Country." Her deep brogue and accent were unmistakable, though she spoke remarkably well for a foreigner. "Have you passed through that City on your way here? I should love to know more of it if you've seen it."
The man that accompanied the woman had taken liberty to pull up two chairs near their table in order that they might join them even without invitation.
Lady C was looking around Andre's shoulder. She admired him for so many reasons, not the least of which was with what loyalty and regard he defended her at every turn. She rose, touching Andre's elbow.
"It meets with my approval Andre that they join us," she shot the dubious man who accompanied the woman a sharp glance. "We shall be brief, thereby respecting, at least in part, the wishes of this village, and of the most gracious innkeeper."
Andre's look softened a bit as he turned slightly toward Lady C. "Madame," he held her hand as Lady C returned to her seat. He watched closely as the strange woman sat down, and in the chair slightly behind hers, the man perched himself on the edge of the seat as if he were at the ready of her beck and call. Andre warily slid his chair forward just slightly so that it was juxtaposed to Lady C's, and decidedly in a protective position.
The woman nodded, the large black plume of feathers tucked into her tightly drawn hair waving about. It looked like the wings of a black raven come to swoop in on its prey. "It was not with intention that I happened upon your conversation dear Madame, it was but chance that the name of the City caught my attention. I've oft heard on my travels of the beauty and general splendor of the City, and oft wondered about traveling there one day myself. Had issue not arisen with the death of this author, I think I should have been most amiably inclined to include it on my travels as I return to my Country."
Lady C had not even blinked, her discerning eyes studying the woman's every movement and expression. She inhaled, and with the stellar composure she'd possessed for so many years, she inquired, "and what Country might that be…that you claim as your own?" Her voice nor glance never wavering.
The woman's eyebrow rose ever so slightly. It had been a long while since she'd encountered a woman whose poise rivaled her own. "Persia Madame." She nodded to the young woman who'd brought her coffee cup and saucer over to her from the other table. She lifted it taking a long sip before she set it in the saucer, holding it in her lap.
Lady C's gaze traveled to the man who was behind the woman. He never made eye contact, his were fixed on the ground. Her glance returned to the woman. "You are a long way from home Madame. Is it a social visit that you pay on this small town?" Lady C lifted the snifter taking a small sip of her now cooling cognac.
"Ah I can see you are a woman of few words, preferring to come quickly to the point of the conversation." The woman smiled jeeringly at Lady C. "I've come to inquire of the hamlet of Chauesser," she looked around the room, "this city is of little consequence to me."
Lady C could feel her ire growing. This woman, it seemed, had little regard for the wishes of a City who'd been so kind as to take in travelers during a time when they observed such strict quietness themselves. If this were the type of regard she held for such a place, she'd not feel obliged to share more than a trifle of her beloved Chauesser.
"You are most correct, I do tend not to mire myself in idle conversation. Chauesser is as you've so aptly put it, a place that travelers would oft light for refreshment on their journeys, likely as much due to its location as its amiable residents. It is as is any city whose citizenry care for their village, a most amiable place. The people there are very close, and tend to be most protective of their fair City. Not that they are inhospitable to be sure, but they do have healthy regard for anyone who might detract from their quiet way of life." Lady C, once more lifted the snifter of cognac to her lips.
Andre was smiling within, though his face revealed no hint of his feelings. Lady C was as always diplomatic and cordial, though he detected from the first word her protectiveness in the mere mention of Chauesser.
There was a quiet cough toward the side of the room. The innkeeper stood in the door, his daughter behind him. His eyes focused on Andre. "We've readied your rooms sir." His daughter nodding in polite gesture. "My daughter would be most pleased to see you to them."
Andre glanced at Lady C. He could tell by the look on her face that she was ready to retire, and decidedly ready to be away from this woman. "My dear Lady, may I escort you?" Andre rose, his back slightly positioned toward the woman as he took Lady C's hand.
Lady C stood, "why yes, I've grown quite tired as of recent. A night's rest would be most agreeable." She nodded toward the woman politely. "May you have a pleasant remainder to your visit, and a safe journey back to your country." Lady C nodded once more as she stepped away from the table. She stiffened as she felt a hand on her shoulder…it was like being touched by the stone-cold hand of death.
"May I say the same to in regard to your journey. It was most pleasant making your acquaintance," she paused, though she'd not remove her hand, "and that of your son."
Andre's head snapped back toward the woman. What had she said?
"Indeed, the pleasure was all ours Madame." Lady C said, her tongue nearly catching on the roof of her mouth, so dry that it was. Yet another lie…it had been no pleasure at all.
The woman nodded, watching as the young man and the woman departed with the innkeepers. She turned to look at the man who'd sat silently during the entire interchange. "Go to the stables, learn what you can from the woman's carriage and horses, and report back to me. I've a feeling this woman knows much more than she's let on. If my steward has not returned by morning's light, we may very well abandon our trip into Paris, and go to that small hamlet ourselves. There must be some reason that they've not yet returned." She glanced sternly at the man. "Go on then, make haste," she said gruffly. He bowed deeply and walked toward the door leading toward the stables.
The Innkeeper appeared yet again. "Your room is also ready…and the things you've requested are in your bedchamber." The man shook his head. It was a strange collection of things, but she'd requested them.
The woman stood and followed the man. She in truth was repulsed by the accommodations, having far more comforts in her palace, and far more influence on those within her grasp. Here she had to play by the rules…at least until she found what she wanted.