"Monsieur Clopin, are you in love with Belle?" Chip asked as they left the main castle building – Maurice's workshop would be just across the grounds a little ways, since his inventions sometimes blew up.
"Yes, Monsieur Clopin," Maurice echoed as they walked. "Are you in love with Belle?"
Clopin smiled nervously. "Before I answer that, can I ask why you are asking?" he enquired hopefully.
Chip shrugged. "I saw you through the windows when you got here," he said. "You and Belle were sitting really close together," he explained.
Clopin looked to Maurice.
"I have eyes," the father answered with a small smile beneath his bushy moustache. "And ears. However much I pretend not to use them sometimes."
Clopin sighed. "Oui," he said, and it was an admission. "Yes, I love and am in love with Belle," he told them both softly, and looked back over his shoulder at the castle. "And I am completely unworthy of her."
"Well, you let her decide that," Maurice advised. "But supposing you propose to her, and she accepts you, what then?" he asked, and resumed the trek across the grounds.
"I..." Clopin hesitated.
"They get married and live happily ever after in the castle!" Chip declared happily.
"Oh, Monsieur Chip, it is not so easy," Clopin informed the boy, and hefted him up onto his hip. "I am a gypsy, you see, and we do not do well inside stone walls."
"What's that mean?" Chip asked.
"It means that the prospect of a life where he cannot move about freely at a moment's notice makes him itch underneath his skin where he cannot scratch, but the itch goes away when he's out on the open road, travelling at his leisure," Maurice explained to the boy.
"Huh. Well, here's the workshop!" Chip declared, and with a flourish he opened the door of the building he'd led them to. "All yours!"
"Oh, this is wonderful!" Maurice praised. "Chip, would you ask someone to bring Monsieur Trouillefou's cart and mine here? I have an idea, but I will need to study how the carts are different to each other before I get started."
Chip nodded and dashed out. Then he poked his head back around the door. "You won't go anywhere until I get back, will you?" he asked.
Maurice and Clopin chuckled.
"We'll be right here," Maurice promised the boy. "Esmeralda is marrying the captain," he said to Clopin once Chip was gone.
"And she will be taking Djali and her cart with her into that marriage," Clopin answered. "She will still have all of Paris to move about in as she likes. I expect they will spend the first week of their marriage in that cart, at least."
Maurice nodded his acceptance, and looked at Clopin in a considering fashion. "Then you're going to need a bigger cart," he decided. "You can consider it Belle's dowry," he added firmly. "I suspect she thinks I didn't hear her say she'd like to travel, when we were discussing what she might do while I remained here, but I did. I just didn't like the idea of her alone on the open road."
"What can I offer for bride price?" Clopin asked softly. "It is the way of things among our people. I would not wish to dishonour her by not paying one."
Maurice considered that, and hummed in thought as he rubbed his chin. "You can help with the new cart," he started, "and I'll keep your old one when you move into the bigger one." The old man chuckled. "A symbolic farewell to your single life at the same time, eh?"
Clopin laughed happily. "Oui," he agreed. "Most appropriate. But I must still learn the lady's heart on the matter."
"Well, leave that for later," Maurice insisted. "You have to help me design a gypsy wagon for two right now. A project that I think I will enjoy very much, even if it isn't inventing, as such."
Clopin laughed, happily, and sat down with Maurice at a workbench.
~oOo~
"Bonsoir, Mademoiselle," Clopin said with a smile as he looked down at the woman curled up in a large, plush chair in front of a fireplace, a book in her lap.
Belle looked up, surprised at the interruption. "Oh, Clopin, bonsoir. Wait, evening?" she asked, and turned in her chair to look out the window. "So it is," she noted softly.
Clopin chuckled. "An involving tale?" he suggested archly.
"It is," Belle agreed with a smile as she set a bookmark in place, closed the book, and held it tightly to her chest.
"Perhaps you would help me to read it some time? For now, Monsieur Chip says that it is time for dinner," Clopin said, and offered his hand to help her out of her chair. "I'm sure you must be hungry by now."
Belle chuckled. "Yes," she agreed as she took his hand and let him pull her up. "I suppose I am. Um..." she hesitated. "Clopin, you said... help you to read it..."
Clopin nodded and hummed an affirmation as he wound her arm around his as he walked with her to the door of the library. "I can read a little," he said, "but it is not exactly a talent that is common among my people, or indeed anybody not of a certain social standing," he pointed out.
Belle blushed a little. "My mother was raised in the cloisters of Notre Dame, and learned from the nuns there. She met my father not long before she was to have taken her vows to the church. She taught me," she explained.
Clopin smiled. "It is not something to blush over," he chided gently. "It is a wonderful thing. I learned the few written words that I know from the Archdeacon while he tended to my mother's last rights."
Belle leant her head against Clopin's shoulder as they walked, offering what comfort she could for the less-than-happy memory. "How did you learn so many stories if you could not read them from books?" she asked.
Clopin chuckled. "By hearing them told," he answered easily. "Just as the children who watch my puppet shows will remember them, and be able to pass on the tales to their children some day."
Belle smiled happily, but didn't shift her head from where it rested on Clopin's shoulder until they reached the dining room.
"Ah, there's my daughter!" Maurice welcomed happily, and held out his arms for a hug.
"Papa," Belle greeted, and moved to his arms. "How was your day?" she asked. "I see you've been busy," she added, and picked a small bit of wood-chip from his hair behind his ear.
"Oh, I thought I'd cleaned it all off when I got changed for dinner," Maurice said as he looked at the tiny bit of wood in surprise. "Yes, yes, I've already got a project started. Monsieur Trouillefou and Chip are both helping me with it even."
"Really?" Belle asked, and looked over at Clopin with a smile.
Clopin shrugged, and pulled out Belle's chair for her with a sheepish smile on his face. "I held things steady, and Monsieur Chip fetched tools," he supplied in answer to Belle's enquiring gaze as she sat, then took his own seat.
"How much did you get through with Cogsworth today?" Maurice asked as he sat also.
"Not enough," Belle answered sheepishly. "It went just as you said Papa. We got through a couple of matters, but..."
Maurice chuckled fondly. "The books were all begging you to read them," he finished for her. "I suppose you'll be back to the library to go over a few more matters tomorrow then?"
Belle nodded. "I hope Cogsworth wasn't offended..." she said quietly.
"He wasn't," Lumiere assured as he served their meal to them. "Pardon my intrusion," he added. "I could not help overhearing. Cogsworth is used to the servants simply walking out on him without a word, and the Master would roar at him quite loudly when he was out of patience."
"Thank you Lumiere," Belle said. "Oh, and this smells delicious," she complimented happily.
"Merci," Lumiere said with a bow.
Rather than retiring immediately after dinner as they had done the day before, when they had arrived cold and tired from a day on the road, they adjourned to a cosy room with a large fireplace, a thick rug before it, and several soft chairs surrounding.
Maurice happily settled into one of the chairs, a blanket over his knees, and a cup of tea supplied to him by Mrs Potts in his hand.
Belle and Clopin settled down on the rug in front of the fireplace instead, and quietly she read to him, trailing her fingertip along under each word as she said it, so that he could recognise it written down. A little way in, Clopin took over the spoken parts for certain characters in the tale, much to Belle's amusement.
He did voices very well, but then, he was a puppeteer, among other things.
~oOo~
"Well would you look at that," Lumiere commented to Fifi, his sweetheart and one of the maids, who he had wrapped up in his arms as they peeked through the door into the room beyond.
"It looks familiar," she answered with a smirk. "Only, I am certain that the Mistress was wearing a rose-coloured dress when she read by the fire with the Master, not a lavender one."
Lumiere chuckled. "Indeed, ma chérie," he agreed. "Indeed."
"Monsieur Trouillefou is making the Mistress laugh in a way that the Master never did when they were in the same position," Cogsworth offered with a small smirk of his own as he, too, peeked around the edges of the doors.
"Well, Maurice is right there," Mrs Potts pointed out softly. "People act differently when they know they have a chaperone."
"He's in love with her," Chip stated. "I asked him."
All the adults stared down at the boy in surprise, then looked up and around at each other.
"Well... I suppose Fifi or I should talk to the young lady when she retires for the night?" Mrs Potts suggested softly.
"I will go," Fifi offered.
Lumiere pouted a little, then sighed. "Ah, I will simply have to wait up for you, ma chérie," he declared and drew one of her hands to his lips to kiss.
"You will," Fifi answered saucily. "And no going crawling to Angelique either," she added. "I intend to recruit her for the evening's conversation as well."
"Oh?" Mrs Potts asked, curious.
Fifi nodded. "Oui. A little chit-chat among young women about handsome men and romance," she explained, then tapped her chin in thought. "Mrs Potts, would you join us as well? You will have a more mature perspective on the situation."
Mrs Potts chuckled. "You mean the perspective of a woman who is actually married and a mother?" she teased.
Fifi raised an eyebrow at Lumiere over her shoulder. "Oui," she agreed firmly.
Lumiere's smile became slightly nervous.
Fifi nodded in satisfaction, untangled herself from Lumiere, took Mrs Potts' arm, and went in search of the woman in charge of the castle's décor. Angelique wanted to talk about a few other things with the Mistress anyway.
~oOo~
Belle was accosted at her bedroom door by a beaming Fifi, a smirking Angelique, and a Mrs Potts who looked like she wanted to laugh, just a little bit.
"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Belle asked as she opened her door and invited all three of them into her room.
"Your staff are terribly nosy," Angelique informed Belle with a superior tone as she swept in. "And gossipers," she added.
"Oh?" Belle asked with a smile forming on her own face.
"Mistress, we could hardly help but notice how close you are with Monsieur Trouillefou," Mrs Potts pointed out to her as she commandeered the vanity seat.
A little extra colour rose in Belle's cheeks.
"Ah-ha!" Fifi declared with a grin as she pointed at Belle's face. "She blushes at his name!"
Belle gasped out a soft laugh, amused by Fifi's antics rather than the topic of conversation. "Clopin is an attractive, intelligent man," she said, trying to explain away the reaction.
"My dear," Angelique said plainly as she sat on the edge of Belle's bed, "we are hardly here to criticise your taste." She paused and pouted for a moment in thought as she looked about the room with a critical eye. "Unless you actually like that gaudy Rococo thing that was no doubt put in here on Cogsworth's orders," she added with a gesture towards a rather unfortunate chair, the excessively gilded frame of which surrounded a leopard skin.
Belle giggled and shook her head. "It's a bit much," she allowed, "and uncomfortable."
Angelique nodded. "I will have it removed in the morning," she declared.
"You can put it on a wagon and take it away to sell," Belle offered. "It really isn't to my taste."
"A matter which we need to seriously discuss," Angelique said firmly. "I cannot decorate the castle to your taste if I do not know your tastes."
"You will have my tomorrow afternoon," Belle promised.
"We already know that the man who wore a gold and purple tunic with a bright pink mask is to your taste," Fifi interjected, getting the conversation back on track as to the reason for their being there.
"The cowl was gold," Belle corrected. "The tunic was blue and the same purple-pink as his mask, oh, though there was a bit of gold on the lower part of his tunic, and striped with purple on one leg of his hose..."
Angelique, Fifi and Mrs Potts all giggled in their own unique ways a that.
"Oh my dear," Mrs Potts said as she shook her head fondly.
"And what was he wearing to dinner last night?" Angelique asked slyly.
"A white shirt with a brown vest and dark green dinner jacket, and black breeches," Belle answered at once. "Why?"
Angelique and Fifi both giggled again, though stifled themselves when Mrs Potts waved at them to hush.
"Mistress... oh, how can I put this delicately?" Mrs Potts mused quietly.
"Are you romantically interested in Monsieur Trouillefou, and if you aren't, why?" Fifi asked straight out, a playful smirk on her face.
Belle's face turned completely red, her eyes went wide and she seemed to be completely without words.
"Come now Fifi," Angelique scolded playfully. "That was hardly delicate. Besides, we do not know Monsieur Trouillefou. For all we know, he could be a vagrant and a vagabond. A scoundrel, a libertine, or a blackguard! Not at all worthy of our Mistress. He could be a unreliable -!"
"Oh please stop," Belle begged, cutting Angelique off before she could say more. "Clopin isn't any of those things. I mean, yes he's a gypsy, but that does not make him a vagrant or a vagabond. He tells stories to children and officiates many of the festivals of Paris."
"Hm," Angelique allowed non-committally with a pout. "Well, you know him better than we do," she said.
"Which brings us back to my question," Fifi reminded.
"Which was?" Belle asked, hoping against hope that it might have changed.
Fifi rolled her eyes. No such luck. "Do you think you are now, or could potentially, fall in love with Monsieur Trouillefou?" she asked.
Belle sighed and sank down onto her bed next to where Angelique sat. "Oui," she said softly.
Angelique immediately perked up. "Oh, to decorate the castle for a wedding!" she said, and drifted off into quiet raptures where she sat.
Mrs Potts chuckled. "It would certainly be something to see," she agreed. "But we're getting a bit ahead of ourselves."
"Nonsense," Fifi objected. "Chip has already asked Monsieur Trouillefou how he feels about the Mistress, and -"
"He what?" Belle asked, eyes wide.
Fifi smirked. "Oui," she confirmed.
"Oh!" Belle moaned, mortified beyond reason, fell back onto her bed, and flung an arm over her eyes in a weak attempt to hide.
"I do not see what you are moaning for," Angelique said primly. "If you are in love with him, then why should you be upset that he is also in love with you?"
Belle sprang back upright.
Fifi and Mrs Potts laughed quietly, while Angelique peered at her mistress out of the corner of her eye, a pleased smirk on her face.
"Should we arrange a romantic dinner for you and your Monsieur for tomorrow night?" Fifi asked with childish glee once she had her giggles mostly under control.
"M-maybe not tomorrow night," Belle hedged.
"Certainly," Angelique agreed. "The castle furniture is no longer sentient to help with the fast arrangement of such an evening. It will take at least a week to prepare properly. Now, it is late, and I am going to bed," she declared and rose from where she had been sitting on Belle's. "And don't forget, you have promised me tomorrow afternoon to discuss the castle décor."
"I'll be in the library," Belle promised.
Angelique nodded and left.
Fifi sighed. "Lumiere is waiting for me," she confided with a smile. "Bonne nuit, Mistress, and pleasant dreams."
"Good night Fifi," Belle returned with a wave as the maid also showed herself to the door.
Mrs Potts shifted over to sit beside Belle, and lay one hand on the young woman's knee while the other arm wrapped around her back.
"I know you're mother's gone now dear, but if there's anything you want to know, well, you know you can come to me with any questions about that sort of thing, alright love?" she asked gently.
"I do now," Belle answered with a weak smile. "Thank you Mrs Potts."
"Of course," the older woman answered kindly, then patted Belle's knee once more and ambled out of her Mistress' bedroom as well.