Darling readers, I am sorry for the long wait between chapters! I hope you like this new installment.

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Frollo's jaw felt tight and painful and the world was sliding out of his control again, but he'd made a decision now. Circumstances would be wrought into the shape that he wanted once more. Esmeralda being with child was a circumstance that he should have predicted, but he was used to thinking like a priest, not a man. He was also used to being obeyed. Was this what being an ordinary man was like, having ones wishes ignored at every turn? How did the men of Paris live from one day to the next when women could so wilfully disobey them?

An awful thought nearly stopped him in his tracks. Children, too? Did children disobey their fathers? By the virgin! Something must be done about this.

The day was still bright and anyone could see his hand clamped around Esmeralda's shoulder, but he was beyond caring. Let anyone dare question him – he would have them put in the stocks.

Esmeralda finally spoke up. 'Claude wait – where are you taking me?'

But Frollo was not in the mood to be questioned. How dare she dance in the street when he'd specifically told her not to?

Finally she wrenched herself out of his grasp. 'You may not call me a whore and then march me through the streets like a criminal. Tell me where we are going!'

Frollo looked at her in annoyance. People were so much easier to manage when they were in awe of you. He should have kept her in awe somehow. Recited angry sermons to her? Made her sleep in another room? But even as he looked at her he felt his irritation slipping. She was his Esmeralda whom he cherished. He wanted to whisper words of love to her, not shout at her. He wanted to wake in the pre-dawn light and pull her naked body against his in his own bed, not banish her to another room.

'I am taking you to a priest,' he said.

She cast her eyes to the heavens. 'So I may confess to dancing? Oh, Claude, for pity's sake.'

'No. So he may marry us.'

Esmeralda stared at him. 'Marry us?' she finally squeaked.

He suddenly felt graceless and abashed, two emotions that rarely plagued him. Anger had barrelled him forward until now. Without its blistering mantle he had to acknowledge a terrible possibility: she might not want to marry him. He quickly catalogued their most recent night-time encounters. She had gasped his name and locked her thighs about him. Her nails had marked his back. She did want him, he assured himself. But was that mere passion, or something deeper? Was that love? How could one measure the love a woman felt? Irritation prickled through him. What were scientists doing all day if they hadn't yet come up with an answer to this problem? If he'd continued his study instead of taking the cloth the matter would have been settled by now. Idiots!

'Claude, why do you not say anything?'

He snapped out of his reverie. 'You are bearing my child. We must be married.' There, he would stick to certainties. A child must be borne in wedlock, therefore they must marry.

'We must not anything,' she rejoined. 'I didn't even realise I am with child. I need time to think, and you have not even asked me.'

'I would ask you,' he sniped, 'but it seems my requests are to be ignored.'

To his surprise, Esmeralda laughed. His annoyance slipped again, and he reached for her hand before remembering they were in the street. The problem was not, he realised, that he didn't know if she loved him, but his certainty that he loved her. What was he without her? Half an existence. Half a man. Not even a man, but a cipher. Perhaps he could have lived his whole life that way once, but now that he'd seen how much more there was, he couldn't go back.

He cast his eyes toward the ground, frowning deeply. He didn't know how to confess such a mad tangle of love and fear and need for her, so he said, 'You were never meant for me, but you are mine. I will have you properly as my wife.'

'And you will give up the priesthood?' she whispered, moving closer to him.

He looked up in surprise. 'Give it up? No, why should I?'

'Because priests cannot marry!' she exclaimed.

Frollo waved away her words. Priests could not do a great many things that he'd done with Esmeralda, but he'd done them just the same. 'There is no barrier, physical or spiritual, preventing the ceremony. No vow I took that would void a marriage vow.'

'But you did swear to be chaste,' she pointed out.

'I did. And I will swear something else now. Come along, mon cher. These are my worries, not yours.'

'I am not meant to worry how easily you break your vows?' she asked, standing her ground.

He narrowed his eyes at her. 'I do not like having my word and intentions doubted, Esmeralda.'

'Then you are not ready for a wife,' she said.

Hellfire, damnation and purgatory. The men of Paris must all be saints and he hadn't noticed. Elsewise they knew a secret he didn't. What would an ordinary man do when faced with such obstinacy?

'Please, mon ange,' he said softly, and with the folds of their cloaks to hide his movements, his twined his littlest finger around hers. 'How happy you would make me if you consented to be my wife.'

Her countenance softened. Was this the way? He went on. 'You are too lovely, too good for one such as me. I am bad-tempered and suspicious. Cold and unrelenting. Stubborn and wilful. My faults could not possibly be enumerated.'

She sniffed. 'Quite so.' But there was the ghost of a smile on her lips.

'You are an angel who walks among us. You are all the sweetness of my days.'

Esmeralda giggled and hid her face behind her hand. 'How you do flatter, Claude. It is all nonsense, and it shan't get you your own way.'

He felt his own smile tug the corners of his mouth, seeing hers. She looked up and studied his face. 'What is it?' she asked.

Frollo shook his head. 'Your smile makes me happy,' he blurted. Inwardly he remonstrated with himself. How clumsy that sounded.

'Oh, Claude,' she cried, and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. 'You awful man, why did you have to say that?'

What, awful? It was foolish, but was it truly bad enough to cause her pain? Why was she crying?

Her hand clenched his. 'Do I truly make you happy?' she asked.

Frollo searched for some more pretty words to speak, but they had all flown. 'Yes,' he said.

'Well, now I have to marry you,' she sniffled.

In a daze, Frollo looked down at Esmeralda. 'Then, let us continue on our way, mon ange? To the priest?'

He indicated the way with his arm, and she walked beside him. Was that all he had to do, speak his true feelings? He looked at her again. Yes, she was still there, her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed. How lovely she was. And she was going to marry him.

The daze cleared, and Frollo's spine straightened. The men of Paris were fools. He had solved the conundrum of women in an afternoon, all by himself, and he'd never have any worries again.

...

That rather sounds like Frollo thinks it's the end of the story, doesn't it? *Evil cackle* I don't think so, foolish man. You've still got so much to learn. Leave me a comment and let me know what you think of the chapter!