Chapter IX

Three days went by, and neither Enjolras or Gabrielle had spoken another word about Enjolras' offer of marriage. Gabrielle wasn't sure how long he was going to give her to think, but so far, his behavior hadn't changed. He treated her no differently, and still seemed much more quiet and withdrawn than he had been before the barricade. Gabrielle supposed it was a natural reaction; after all, who was there now for him to talk to or confide in? Joly had Musichetta and Marius had Cosette.

And Enjolras had Gabrielle, simply by default.

That was the problem, really, she mused one day while at work. Did she want to be paired with someone simply because there was no one else available? Her pride recoiled at that, even though her mind could see the sense in it. After all, why shouldn't she become closer to Enjolras? They were the only ones left, and he was insistent that he would continue to be in her life in some capacity. But as a husband? It seemed crazy.

Then why does the thought of marrying him make my heart beat faster? She wondered. She couldn't deny that she had always found Enjolras attractive, and when she watched him command the room in the Musain, she had been captivated by his charm and charisma. He had intrigued her with his serious and compelling conversation, and he had been one of the only men she'd ever met that had treated her as an equal, who was interested in her thoughts and opinions. Even though she had never voiced the thought or even let herself consciously admit it, Gabrielle knew that she had kept going back to the meetings of the Les Amis because she wanted to speak to and see Enjolras. That was unlike her, as she had always been more attracted to the heroes she read about in books than the men she met in real life. And even though it was a perfectly natural reaction for an nineteen year old girl to have, she was strangely embarrassed by it.

There was also no denying he was a marvel to look at, with those golden curls and chiseled jaw...

You are acting like an ignorant schoolgirl! She chastised herself. None of that should factor into your decision.

Or, should it? How could it not? How could she not consider her feelings for him when deciding whether or not to accept his offer of marriage? And how could she not consider his feelings, or lack thereof, for her? Could she really marry someone who only saw her as an obligation?

Or does he really see me that way? Gabrielle thought rather hopefully. The way he sometimes looked at her, the way he talked to her and seemed to value her words, he way he had offered to walk her home that one time, the way he let her hold his hand, his thumb ghosting over her wrist. Perhaps, even Enjolras, the man supposedly made of marble, had some feelings for her that he wasn't quite ready to explore or explain? There was so much to consider and think about, it made Gabrielle's head ache.

"Mademoiselle Feuilly!"

Gabrielle jumped at the sound of her name, and looked up to see the face of the foreman inches from her own.

"You have been standing idle for the last two minutes. You do understand you have a job to do?" he asked condescendingly. The foreman's face was red with anger, as it usually was, and Gabrielle bit her tongue, reminding herself that no matter what she really wanted to say, she had to be polite.

"I am sorry, Monsieur. My mind was somewhere else. I apologize."

He frowned at her. "Obviously. Get back to work or you'll see yourself out the door."

Gabrielle nodded and lowered her eyes demurely, though she could feel frustration building inside of her. Could she truly endure men like the incompetent foreman for the rest of her life? Could she stand people treating her like she had no desires and ambitions, no mind of her own? She didn't know, but every time she was reminded of these things, marrying Enjolras looked a little bit better than it had before.

Gabrielle walked home slowly that evening, enjoying the light breeze and warm summer air after being stuck inside the stuffy factory all day. Despite the beautiful weather, her mind was still reeling. She had no idea what to do, but was becoming more and more sure that if she chose not to marry Enjolras, she would be condemning herself to a life of misery. There was simply no happy ending for a poor working girl in Paris with no family or name for herself.

But, if she married Enjolras, everything was uncertain. There was a small, but comforting hope in that uncertainty. She didn't know what exactly their marriage would entail, but made up her mind as she entered the apartment that it was time to have another serious, hypothetical, talk.

He was sitting at the desk by the window, reading in the quickly fading sunlight. He turned and smiled in greeting as she came in. "Bonjour, Gabrielle."

"Can we talk?" Gabrielle asked nervously.

"Of course." Enjolras shut his book and pivoted in the chair, sitting backwards and letting his arms rest on the top. "What do you need?"

Gabrielle smoothed her skirt, a nervous habit, and leaned against the back of the sofa. "I've been thinking about your offer and I have some questions."

Enjolras nodded encouragingly. "Of course. I imagine we have much to discuss if you are seriously considering it?"

Did he actually look hopeful?

"Yes, well...I suppose...well..." she stumbled over her words, unsure where to even begin.

He waited, gazing at her evenly, and betraying no hint of the nerves he had shown the other night when bringing it up for the first time.

She tried again, taking a calming deep breath. "I've realized over the last few days that I really only have two options: working for the rest of my life in a job I hate and barely making it by, or marrying you and facing something completely unknown. I suppose I am wondering what I could expect should I accept your proposal?"

Enjolras considered for a moment and follower her question with one of his own. "In what regard?"

"You mentioned the other evening that you would not expect me to work unless I wanted to? That I could work on my writing and perhaps try to be published?"

"Absolutely. There is no need for you to work, I have money. I am aware you wouldn't know it from looking around this apartment, but..." he smiled wryly, "I have spent it on other things."

Mainly a failed revolution, Gabrielle guessed.

"But it is your money," Gabrielle protested quietly. "How could I take it in good conscience?"

"Because you would be my wife," Enjolras said sincerely. "And I believe that entitles you to everything I have. It would no longer be mine, but ours."

Gabrielle sighed, shaking her head in wonder. This conversation was beyond absurd. "And...what about...?" she trailed off, embarrassed at her current train of thought and much too modest to know how to really ask.

Enjolras raised his eyebrows questioningly, waiting for her to continue.

"Where would I sleep?" Gabrielle finally asked, her cheeks flushing.

"Oh." Enjolras modestly looked away. "Well. I don't expect that from you," he said quietly, turning a bit red himself. "That is, I don't expect you in my bed..."

As she was wont to do when feeling awkward, Gabrielle joked, "Then I suppose I will continue to sleep on the sofa? Is that how you would treat your wife?"

Enjolras gaped at her; Gabrielle had forgotten that he wasn't really one for jokes or sarcasm. "I was teasing," she said lamely. "I don't mind..."

"You would take the bed, of course. Or, we would share it? But not like that..." Enjolras rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "That's a small matter. I'll buy another one if you want it," he said impatiently, and Gabrielle could tell he was uncomfortable.

She found it endearing, and couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing seemed. "I'm sorry, but it's actually rather fun to see you like this. I suppose I could get used to it..." Oh God, am I trying to flirt with him? She was suddenly mortified.

Enjolras gave her a pointed look, but didn't reply. He was soon back to business. "Like I said before, Gabrielle, I would expect nothing form you but hopefully your friendship. I think we could be happy, in a way."

"I think you could be right," Gabrielle admitted. She finally relaxed enough to sink down onto the sofa, and Enjolras came to join her. "I have to admit that I'm rather miserable," she said quietly. "I hate my job, and I can't imagine doing it forever. But then, I hate myself for wondering if I would be using you just to get away from it."

"I can understand that. But honestly, I deserve to be used," Enjolras said sincerely. "I took your brother from you, and in return, all you are left with is me, and that is a rather pathetic consolation."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and looked at him. "Honestly, Antoine. I understand your guilt. I promise I do. But I absolutely will not marry you if I have to hear that excuse for the rest of my days."

He looked at her for a moment, then suddenly snorted in laughter, surprising Gabrielle. "I can see you will at least be honest with me."

Gabrielle smiled, happy she had actually made him laugh, a rare occurrence even before. "I am nothing if not honest, much like yourself. In fact, I think we will either get along quite well or have terrible fights."

"Either could be entertaining, I suppose."

Is he flirting with me?

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. After her horrible day, Gabrielle was actually beginning to feel rather optimistic. She didn't know what the future would bring with Enjolras, and found the unknown to be strangely exciting.

He finally spoke, his voice a bit uncertain again. "Does this mean you're going to say yes?"

Gabrielle looked at him, finding that her mind was made up. "Yes."

"Yes?" Enjolras looked skeptical, his already large eyes widening.

Gabrielle nodded. "Yes. I am saying yes. I accept. I will marry you." She felt her heart stop for a second as her breath hitched in her chest, a moment of panic that mirrored the look crossing Enjolras' face.

He soon wiped it away and ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. "Well. Alright then. I suppose I will begin to make arrangements. I need to write my mother..."

Gabrielle gaped. "Your mother?" How stupid of her to not consider any family he may have. "Oh God, what will she think? How could she possibly agree to you marrying me?"

Enjolras frowned at her and shook his head. "I am not worried about her in the slightest. She will have no objections to me marrying, believe me. She has been convinced I would die alone and unhappy for years..."

Gabrielle stared. "Well, you still may die unhappy, we certainly can't see the future."

Enjolras smiled again. "I'll just tell her I fell madly in love. She'll believe me, I haven't seen her in three years. We write often, but aren't really that close."

Gabrielle blushed a bit, even though the bit about falling madly in love was clearly not true. "Why haven't you seen her? Are you on bad terms?"

"No, not at all. I greatly admire my mother," Enjolras said. "But I grew up anxious to leave and come to the city. It is dull and boring there, and once my father died four years ago...I just don't really wish to go back," he admitted.

"I didn't know your father had passed. I'm sorry."

Enjolras shrugged. "Thank you, but it's fine. He was sick. He was a good man, though, and my mother is a good woman. A little fanciful, which is why she will be happy to see me 'settle down.'"

"She won't object to me being...well, having nothing? I'm rather beneath you, Antoine, and everyone knows you could do better," Gabrielle said self-consciously.

"Nonsense. Actually, you're one of the few women I actually enjoy talking to," he said contemplatively.

"Oh." Gabrielle bit her lip, feeling flattered and hopeful again. It was easy to talk to him, nice even. "But will your mother agree?"

"It wouldn't matter either way, as I do what I please," he said firmly. "But yes, she will agree. Where do you think my revolutionary ideals came from? She doesn't care about social classes." A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. Enjolras had smiled more tonight than he had in the last month, Gabrielle noticed.

"Will she want to come here? Or..." A terrifying thought suddenly crossed her mind. "We don't have to have an actual wedding, will we?"

Enjolras looked panicked at the thought and quickly shook his head. "No," he said emphatically. "Not if you don't want to. I don't. We'll do it as simply as possible, of course. And as quickly as you care to..."

Gabrielle hadn't even contemplated when. "Oh, well...whenever you think is best? I don't see any sense is putting it off. If we wait too long both of us may come to our senses," she said wryly.

"I will make arrangements, then. Perhaps even by the end of the week?"

Gabrielle nodded, suddenly feeling like she was on the edge of a chasm, ready to step off the edge. This was forever. This was unalterable. There was no going back from here.

The next few days flew by, and Gabrielle never went back to the factory. As soon as Cosette found out about Enjolras and Gabrielle's impending marriage, she insisted on taking Gabrielle shopping for a new wardrobe. (Which told Gabrielle that someone had indeed noticed her pathetic clothing during their little dinner party.) She was reluctant to accept at first, as she didn't want to ask Enjolras for money, but then Cosette waved a little purse at her. Enjolras had been one step ahead of her and already given the funds to Cosette.

Gabrielle spent the day being fitted for dresses, new shoes, and hats; despite the waste she felt nice clothes were, Gabrielle found it was actually rather exciting to be pampered and fussed over. Cosette also reminded her that she would soon be the wife of a young lawyer, and Gabrielle would need to make a good impression on any future work colleagues Enjolras may have, and dressing well was one way to do that. Gabrielle hadn't thought that far into the future, though in only a few months Enjolras would be done with university, and she found the prospect of being a society wife a little terrifying.

She would be married in a dress of dark blue silk with beautiful off the shoulder, puffed sleeves, and a trim of white lace around the neck and hem. They had to wait for over a week for it to be complete, and the simple civil marriage ceremony was scheduled for the very next day.

Gabrielle had never worn such an expensive garment, and when Musichetta helped her dress on her wedding day, Gabrielle felt like a different person as she stared at herself in the mirror. The rich blue fabric of the dress contrasted with the paleness of her skin, and her dark curls were pinned up gracefully with several little pearl hair clasps Cosette gave her. Even Enjolras was cognizant enough to notice her appearance as she exited the bedroom to find Marius, Cosette, and Enjolras waiting for her.

"We're going to give you two a moment. We will meet you downstairs." Cosette smiled happily after telling Gabrielle how radiant she looked and led Marius out of the apartment. Gabrielle watched them go with apprehension, and found it a little funny that even though Cosette knew their reasons for getting married, she still found the day to be a happy and romantic occasion.

Gabrielle could feel Enjolras' eyes sweeping over her figure and she finally turned to meet his gaze. "I'm not used to a dress so fine as this one..." Her fingers played over the soft blue silk nervously.

"It suits you," he said quietly. "You look very beautiful, Gabrielle."

Gabrielle could tell from the set of his jaw that he was as anxious as she was, but he still stood straight and tall, an imposing and handsome figure.

"Thank you. You look quite well, too, Antoine." She managed a small smile and took his arm, letting him lead her out of the apartment and down the stairs to the street. She couldn't help but wonder what her brother would say if he could see this whole debacle; would he be intensely amused at the thought of her marrying Enjolras, or absolutely mortified? She really didn't know.

The ceremony passed by in a blur, with only Marius and Cosette in attendance as witnesses, and Gabrielle was careful to keep her mind blank as she listened to the government officiant. Enjolras was equally grave, repeating his vows with solemnity and grace. He kept his eyes locked on hers as she said her own vows, and at the end of the ceremony, he kissed her chastely on the cheek after slipping a simple, but beautiful, ring on her finger. None of it felt real, and Gabrielle had the insane urge to laugh as she realized she and Enjolras had ironically been marriedbefore Marius and Cosette. Could her life have really changed so drastically in only a little under three months? If all of this had happened in such a short amount of time, there was no telling what the coming years would bring. It was a comfort, though, she had to admit, to know that she would not face them alone.

Happy birthday to one of my nice reviewers, Caroliina! And thank you so much to everyone else that's consistently reviewing.

Happy reading. :)