Author's note: I would like your opinion. I want to know what you think Gabrielle would be missing from the 21st century and what you think Erik would want to know more about from that time. I'll include some of your feedback in the story (you'll get credit too if I use your feedback). Drop thoughts in your reviews or email. Mad props to Alda, Anna, Petie, littledaae, and Lady Assasin Moonbeam for reviewing me — if I left you out there, opps! Thanks for all of your reviews.
This is a short one. More lovin' comin'
Ch 12 – Merriment, Monkeys and Madmen
Madame Roux insisted on making one last trip into Paris before she and Henri departed for Christmas. Marie could not bear the thought of leaving Erik and I alone without proper provisions. Of course we had plenty to sustain us until they returned from their visit with Patrick and his family in Niece.
I begged Marie to let me tag along on her shopping trip. It was December 22nd but the only hints of Christmas at the manor were a small pine tree I had smuggled into my bedroom and some holly and ribbon wreaths Marie had managed to adorn the mantles and front entrance of the mansion with.
I understood that no amount of prodding and pleading would change Erik's feelings about the holidays, but I had a right to observe it in some small way. I devised a plan to make the day unobtrusively pleasant for we two wayward outsiders.
Christmas dinner would be superb, yet simple. I also planned to purchase a present for Erik. Simple gratitude wasn't my only aim; I wanted him to have something special to open.
Marie allowed me to accompany her to market. I had my list; fresh fruits, fine chocolates; ingredients for Christmas dinner, and anything else that struck my fancy. In the music room there was a large curio that held a small collection of figurines and music boxes—the most ornate one being a paper mache' monkey wearing a turban. I had spied several of theses exquisite boxes at Madame DeVries boutique on the Rue du Parc Royal the last time I went to market.
Henri drove the brougham through the holiday crush, finally making it to the main shopping area near the Champs Elysees. He helped us out of the carriage, climbed back aboard the driver's seat, lit his pipe and maneuvered his way through the crowded street toward the livery stables.
"We must make haste," Mdm. Roux reminded me, "Henri and I plan our departure for the train station early tomorrow. I have much packing still to do—presents and such," she qualified lest I think her unorganized.
The weather had decided to be winter after all. Downey flakes of snow flitted around us softly, melting on the still warm Parisian streets. The atmosphere was magical. People called noel to one another, carolers sung of joy and bright colors accented the otherwise monochromatic winter day.
"Let's first go to the green grocer. I want to be certain you have enough to get through the next ten days," Marie said.
"Marie, I shopped last week, we only need fresh foods enough for the next few days. Erik and I don't consume much and I wouldn't want anything to spoil."
"Nonsense girl. I'll not have you get snowed in with nothing to eat. It is best to be prudent. If there is an over abundance, simply place the perishables outside in the cold dear," She counseled.
"Of course Marie," why argue?
It took no time to round up what we both needed. The majority of the time Marie spent catching up on life with Mdm. Adelle, the grocer's wife.
Eventually we were back on main Blvd. Heading for a row of boutiques. Marie wished to buy something frivolous and feminine for her only daughter, Caron.
I suggested we stop at Mdm. DeVries, a tony gift emporium in the section. The picture window of her sumptuous boutique was decorated in fine style. Porcelain dolls, wind-up mechanical toys, trains, and music boxes adorned with shiny ribbons beckoned us from the street.
Peering through the window, my eyes lit on the boutique's extraordinary display of music boxes and figures. Bells tinkled merrily when we entered. The delicious scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted throughout the little store as procrastinating parents and husbands made frantic last minute purchases for their children, wives or mistresses.
Marie spied a small jewelry box with the figure of a petite bluebird inside a glided cage. She went to check it out as a possible gift for Caron. I jostled my way through the shoppers and gawkers to the shelf where my sat. On the far wall was a shelf displaying Meissen masterpieces from Germany. There were several exquisite music boxes and figurines, some of which Erik already owned.
I selected my choice from the shelf and carried it to the clerk. Mdm. Roux had decided to purchase the musical jewelry box for her daughter. She was completing her transaction when I walked up to the counter.
"A lady can never have too many elegant places to store her jewels, and Caron is married to a man who can lavish such treasures upon her." This was a reassurance more than a boast. Marie was pleased that her daughter did not need to scrimp for every necessity and nicety as she and Henri had done in their early years.
Marie took notice of the treasure in my hands. At first she made no comment, but I could tell curiosity was killing her.
"Do you think he'll like it?" I said holding up the curious box of figurines so she could get a better look at it.
"Who will like it dear?"
"Erik, of course."
"Oh! Yes, of course, Monsieur DuPuis. He does enjoy his collection of musical eccentricities.
Peculiar little figures—they're monkeys are they not?"
"Oh yes, Erik has a thing about primates," I shrugged. "It's an antique Meissen monkey musician band circa 1750. I think it's fun. Erik's collections are like his toys. I often catch him playing with them."
"Gabrielle, it must be quite expensive, how can you afford to be so extravagant?"
"I save my earnings Madame, not much to spend it on since my room and board are paid for and Erik usually furnishes my garments for me," I answered.
The astonished look on her face told me furnishing a lady's personal wardrobe was not standard provision for a man in Erik's position. Opps, hello foot, meet mouth.
I thought of explaining the time-travel incident to Marie so she could better understand my relationship with our employer, but the idea of Erik and I sharing adjoining rubber rooms didn't sound appealing.
Marie touched my shoulder lightly and nodded her approval, "He should be pleased Gabrielle. Erik has few friends and no family. He's been on his own since her was too young. My sister looked after him for a time. He was in love with a very beautiful girl once, but it was not to be. Since that time, he has remained a confirmed bachelor. I fear he will be for the rest of his life. It would take a special sort of woman to tame him, you know."
When someone gives you one of those Mona Lisa smiles, as Marie just did, it typically carries with implications. I didn't dare tell her that I had learned from a music history class that the famous composer had indeed been married and sired a few children in his lifetime.
"Shall I wrap this for you Madame?" asked the fellow behind the counter.
"Please monsieur; wrap it in the gold tissue for me if you would, it's for a gentleman," I requested.
I watched while the man boxed up the treasure, folding shiny gold tissue around it and tying it up with a length of silver ribbon.
I was both excited and terrified. "Well Marie, he's either going to be extremely surprised or annoyed by this gift, you never know about Erik. He digests the good intentions of others differently than most people."
"I suppose that he knows no better Gabrielle. Erik is extremely intelligent and well read, yes, but he lacks the sort of experience one gains from living among the human race," An expression of sadness showed on her face.
A vast number of customers lined up behind us waiting to make their purchases. Marie and I quickly departed the boutique and made our way out onto the crowded Rue du Parc.
"It's nearly time to meet up with Monsieur Roux isn't it Marie?" I asked.
"Yes, and I seem to have all that I need now. Let's proceed back to the livery stables.
Going back to the manor and crawling into the warm, soft down covers of my bed was all that I wanted in the world right now. Between missing my family madly and the emotional aerobics with Erik, I was exhausted.
The brougham was ready for us when Marie and I reached the livery.
"Well my lovely ladies, I see you have made many a shop keeper most happy today," Henri teased cheerfully, noting the mound of packages we had heaped in our arms.
Henri loaded our parcels into the luggage compartment of the carriage, and then assisted as Marie and I climbed aboard for the ride home.
The winter sun cast an orangey sky over Paris. I loved the way it outlined the naked trees and smoky chimneys of the city. It was times like this when I nearly felt alive and well regardless of the restrictions of the 19th century.
Paris was only moments behind us when Mdm. Roux asked me about my home. It was the first time she had ever engaged me in a personal conversation.
"Gabrielle, do you ever miss your American home?"
You have no idea. "Yes, I miss my family very much, and of course my husband. Losing a mate is a different sort of grief; its wounds are slow to heal," I added remembering the ruse Erik had concocted for me.
I wasn't too far off the mark in saying this to Marie. Losing a mother and a lover was hard on my emotions. I caught Dr. Phil on Opra one afternoon. The good Doctor was pontificating on how untimely departures can feel like dealing with death (well, there was a time when I did want to kill Tony, figuratively, of course).
"Do you think you may marry again Gabrielle, that is when you have finished your grieving period?"
It's been over a year since the death of my husband; I am ready to move on. Will I marry again? Oh Marie, I sighed, what decent French man would take a second look at me?"
First you must meet them before you can be wary of them. You are like M.DuPuis in that you seldom socialize. Certain suitors are closer to where we live than you may realize dear.
She was speaking to me in secret code again.
"Perhaps my Caron should come to visit us for a few weeks. She is desperately lonely without her husband away and I know she misses France. You two would get on splendidly. Yes, I shall suggest it to her over Christmas. Henri will be so pleased to have his little girl for more than a fleeting holiday visit."
I jumped at the chance to get hang out with another woman close to my age, "Please do, I'd love to meet your daughter Marie."
I was pretty sure Caron could teach me more about being a Victorian era women than Erik could. I wondered what sort of titling fun we could have—parlor games perhaps? I bet I could teach Caron a few things too. I smiled inwardly.
"You must be lonely too dear," Marie observed. "Coming to live in an unknown County must be difficult. How is life at the manor for you Gabrielle?
"It's beautiful—restful. Erik is kind to me and you and M. Roux have been so patient." I folded my hands and looked at her. "Madame Roux, I know I'm an odd bird. I suppose it's simple American brashness. I was raised to be an independent woman. My father used to say that I was his free spirit. Making my own rules as I went along. You don't think that's all bad do you?"
"No child, not always. Sometimes it is good to have fire as long as you are not careless with it." She paused and leaned forward on the bench, "Gabrielle when you came to us, I was harsh with you. I misjudged your character. Please accept my most humble apology."
"Thanks Marie, but don't sweat it."
"I am not sweating. Ladies do not sweat Gabrielle. I don't…"
I waved her off, "I'm sorry Marie, American slang. What I meant to have said is that I accept your gracious apology Madame."
By god, a warm smile cracked her lips for the first time in six months.
We reached DuPuis manor after sunset. The brougham rattled up the long rutted driveway that led to the stables. The only visible light was of the gas lanterns from the stables. No telling where Erik was holed up.
"Do you think M. DuPuis is even home Marie? The house is terribly dark. I don't even see light from the music room window."
"Perhaps he's in his room on the other side of the house, or in his secret chamber below the house."
"Secret chamber? Marie, that's the first I've heard of such a thing. What is it?"
My interest was piqued by another mysterious detail of Erik's existence.
Marie looked startled, "Oh my, I thought he would have told you. I…I should not be divulging such secrets; it is not my place Gabrielle," she turned from me.
Oh c'mon Marie, like, who am I going to tell? You just said that there is such a place. Now you have to tell me more. It's like a woman's oath or something."
"Well," she began in a hushed tone as if Erik had his ear to the carriage. It is the cellar really. We are forbidden ever to enter, but he spends a lot of time there, mostly in the summer months when the heat becomes unbearable, or when he becomes…reflective."
"Ah," I nodded in understanding. "It was summer when I arrived at the manor. Erik would disappear for days, yet his horses would remain in the stable. I never saw or heard him come or go. That probably explains why."
"He has the makeup of a mad man within him Gabrielle, although I have seen it only once since Henri and I came under his employ five years ago. He will become very cross with the both of us if he knew I have mentioned this. You must never speak of it."
"Tick-a-lock Marie," I made a locking gesture at my mouth. "I am nothing if not trustworthy," I reassured her.
So Erik has a hidden room below his house. I wonder what's up with that?
Thank for lurking, smiles for reviewing. Drop me a comment even if it's a short one. And let me know what you think Gabrielle misses and what Erik would be interested in. You rock!
- Leesa