I'm sorry that it took me so long. But, I have an excuse and I am making it up to you by posting this extra-long chapter. I hope you will enjoy it!
Christine's POV
I had been looking at it for some time now. Looking.
It was Meg who shook me from my pensive stare by poking me… hard. I sent her an angry glare that did not appear to have the wished effect as she stared at me with an innocent expression on her face.
"What?!", she said, "It's not going to open itself, I am getting more curious by the second and you are not making any movement that suggests that you will be opening it anytime soon. And don't give me that look, you know I'm right. Come on…"
"You know that curiosity killed the cat, right?", I answered.
"Don't give me that talk, you sound just like my mother when you say that."
I pretended to shudder and mumbled "Heaven forbid", but made no move to open the package wrapped in brown paper and tied together by some strings.
"Come on! What could go wrong? It's not as if it's a dead animal", Meg begged.
"You know, it's usually when you say something like that when things go wrong", I said.
Meg pouted and used her last argument: "If you don't open it right now, I will."
She looked as if she meant it, so I carefully took it from my bed and checked it for weird. Then I started to unwrap it slowly, during which Meg encouraged me with a loud "Release me from this torment and just open the thing!".
I gasped when I saw the content of the package. In my hands was the most beautiful scarf I had seen in my entire life. It was of a vibrant red and incredibly soft.
"It's so beautiful!", Meg exclaimed and I could only agree with her statement.
"Can I touch it?", she asked and I nodded.
"My God! This has to be cashmere, I don't know anything else that is that soft. This must have cost a small fortune. Try it on, try it on!"
I winded it around my neck quickly and looked at Meg for her opinion, for which I did not need to wait very long.
"You look lovely!", she gushed.
I felt a blush creeping up on my face and I couldn't stop touching the soft fabric.
"Do you know who gave it to you?", Meg asked.
I shook my head. "I have absolutely no idea."
"Maybe it was one of Monsieur Dubois' sons! Oooh! Just imagine: me and Alain, you and one of them, they are best friends! Can you imagine it?!"
I didn't want to ruin her excitement, but I didn't agree with her.
"Meg, I couldn't have been one of them. We've never even met and they never come inside the house. You complained about that yourself just yesterday."
Meg frowned and sighed deeply.
"You're right. But then, who could it be? Maman would have asked me to bring it to your room if she had bought it, and it's too expensive. Clémaine would have given herself away by now, she was never good at keeping secrets. I didn't do it. Obviously, you didn't do it either. Only the master is left, but that would be completely ridiculous."
She stared at my scarf for a few more seconds and then squealed so loud that my ears hurt.
"Oh my God, Christine! It has to be a secret admirer! It's so romantic!"
By this time, she was bouncing up and down from utter happiness. Unable to keep myself in check, I joined her and couldn't help but start giggling.
After several minutes, we were lying on the floor, completely breathless.
Eventually, Meg stood up with a groan and pulled me up too.
"I think it's time that we went down for dinner or Clémaine will skin us and use it as a throw rug."
"Oh come on," I said, "you don't mean that. She is too kind to do such a thing."
"Have you ever seen her work with those knives? I swear, that woman was an assassin in her former live."
Meg made me shudder at the thought and we made our way down more quickly than ever before.
The fire was crackling and spread a warm light around us. Clémaine was bustling around and placed an enormous casserole on the table. It smelled delicious.
"For tonight: goulash soup. I hope you all have a good apatite, for you will certainly need one. Ah, Meg, Christine, come join us, mes petites chéries, venezi", she said.
Madame Giry was sitting at the head of the table, Clémaine on her left side, Meg and I on her right. It was Meg who first noticed the extra place setting.
"Who's eating with us tonight?", she asked as she sat down.
"Alain. Don't you remember, Jacques and his sons had to leave for the evening. The master gave them permission to visit their cousin Amélie. She has just given birth to a girl. Therefore, Alain had no one else to dine with", her mother explained.
Meg's face became incredibly red. He would be sitting in front of her and she seemed shaken by the thought.
Madame Giry then turned her attention towards me while Clémaine was filling our bowls to the brim with the thick soup and cutting the bread.
"Christine, are you ill?"
"No, I am not. Why do you ask Madame?", I asked confused. I had thought that I was starting to fill out nicely.
"You are wearing a scarf inside", she answered.
"Oh", I said a bit sheepish.
Meg had awakened from her thoughts and pounced on the opportunity.
"Christine has a secret admirer, but we don't know yet who it is, but I hope that we'll find out and don't you thing that it is incredibly romantic, it would be so…"
"Christine, could I see it for a second, please", Madame Giry interrupted her enthusiastic daughter.
I nodded, flushed with embarrassment, and handed it over to her.
As soon as she was able to see it up close, her eyes narrowed and murmured something unintelligible.
"Maman, do you know who might have given it to Christine?"
Madame Giry looked up surprised and answered "What? Oh, no I don't know who might have given it, but it certainly is very beautiful and of outstanding quality. Furthermore, the colour becomes you, Christine." After which she handed me back my scarf.
I took it and carefully folded it. Then I placed it behind me.
At that moment, Clémaine had had enough and started to mutter under her breath.
"Unpolite young man… never on time… getting cold… such a waste…"
Of course, that was the exact moment Alain chose to enter the kitchen. He received an absolutely terrifying glare from Clémaine (the skinning did not seem that improbable anymore), which he handled by apologising profusely. This apparently soothed her enough to give him a pet on the head and a bowl of goulash.
In the meantime, I used the opportunity to study him. He was Meg's love interest after all, and I decided that as her friend it was my job to do so. He was tall, but not overly so. He probably was about five inches taller than her. He had a friendly, open face, short dark hair, brown eyes and dimples.
I looked at Meg, but she had suddenly become very interested in her bowl. Her cheeks were flushed and she couldn't stop fidgeting.
"Hello Christine. My name is Alain. We have not met yet, but I was informed of your arrival. Do you like it here?", he said.
Had he not spoken my name, I would have never known he was talking to me. His eyes never left Meg and he looked a bit disappointed that she did not even glance his way.
I nodded anyway and thanked him for asking. While answering, I gave Meg a punch under the table and looked at her imploringly. She then looked up and greeted the newcomer in a soft, timid way that I had never expected.
He smiled radiantly at her and his eyes started to shine. It seemed to be enough encouragement for him and he started a lively conversation with her. Meg eventually forgot about her shyness and the rest of us ceased to exist for them.
Clémaine and Madame Giry exchanged some amused yet still approving glances. I actually felt very relieved that Madame Giry did not seem to object, after all, I had told Meg that she wouldn't mind.
The rest of the meal was uneventful. We had all complemented Clémaine on the wonderful food and it was then that I learned something new.
"Thank you my dears, you're too kind", she said, "The master loves it too you know, he always seems less grumpy when I bring him a bowl."
That piqued my interest, especially since I had not heard or seen anything of him.
"Does he always eats the same as we do?", I asked her.
"Why yes, he says that everything I make is fit for a prince. Not that he eats much, the good Lord knows. At least it's better now that HE's gone for the time being."
However, before I could ask her what she meant, Alain asked Meg if she wanted to go for a walk with him.
I have no idea how much effort it cost her not to squeal, but she managed. She looked at her mother with pleading eyes.
"Fine, but take Christine with you. And don't stay out to late! You will have to rise early tomorrow morning."
"Thank you!"
Meg and Alain rushed out quickly and I followed suit. It was only as the cold wind hit me that I realised that I had left my scarf inside. I asked the two lovebirds to wait a second for me and went back inside to fetch it. As I entered the room, I was greeted by the warm laughter of both Clémaine and Madame Giry.
Clémaine smiled and said "Ah, to be young and in love…"
This caused me to burst into laughter too. I took my scarf and went back outside after putting it on.
The wind was piercing cold, but the scarf was deliciously warm. I decided to walk behind Meg and Alain to give them some privacy. Unfortunately, it did not take long before my hand were freezing. I wanted to bury them inside my warm scarf, but first I stroked my cheek once more with the soft material. I smiled. I didn't know who gave it to me, but I was most certainly very grateful for the beautiful gift.
It was then that I saw something from the corner of my eyes. I saw the figure of a man behind one of the only lit windows of the house. It was impossible to see who it was, but he appeared to be very tall and extremely lean. It seemed as if his eyes glowed in the dark. They looked like the yellow eyes of a cat, or like a burning fire. As soon as I blinked though, he was gone.
You are just imagining things. A man's eyes don't glow. You're just tired, it's been a long day…
I shook my head and hurried to follow Meg and Alain, my cold hands buried in the scarf.
I slept well that night. My dreams were filled with the same exquisite music. I awoke to a beautiful day, with an overly active Meg.
That night, there was another package lying on my bed. It contained a pair of delicate, red gloves. They were made of the same material as the scarf. I smiled and pressed them to my chest. I had an idea who might have given them: the man in the window. But who he was, I had no idea.
Who could have given her the presents?! Wait, I think we all know, don't we? ;)
So….. What do you think? I hope that you liked it. Please review this chapter, you would really make my day by doing so. Comments are always welcome.
With all my love,
LoreLorelei
i …my little darlings, come