Belle sat wrapped in Adam's robe and her own blankets, inhaling the deep masculine scent of him. For all she had teased him about smelling her, she found she could not help but do the same. It was lavender from his washbasin, musk, soap, and something else. Something rich and earthy that reminded her of him before his change. She sat with her arms folded around her knees, deep in thought, and did not hear when Plumette opened her bedchamber door to attend her morning toilette.
She startled at the other woman's soft and amused "ahem".
"Bonjour, mademoiselle," she said lightly. "I see you slept well?" There was teasing note to Plumette's voice that Belle did not miss, and her thoughts returned to what Adam had said last night.
The servants will talk, she had said to him. They already do, was his reply. Did they really? Did they think that she and Adam did…that? Belle blushed.
"Oh, m'mselle," Plumette teased. "You do not need to blush with me. We are both women in love with our men. We do what women in love do. It is natural. Women have been doing it long before our time and shall continue it long after we are gone, oui?" Belle sighed.
"Oui. Yes. I mean, no. I mean," Belle exhaled again and Plumette caught the mood of her young friend.
"What is it, ma cherie?" she asked softly, sitting on the edge of Belle's bed, taking the younger woman's hands in hers. "I am your femme de chambre. This means you may tell me anything and I will keep it in strictest confidence. On my heart's honour. I won't even tell Lumiere, I swear it." There was still a light in Plumette's eyes and a smile in her voice, but a sincerity that Belle needed in that moment. She laid her head on the older woman's bosom.
"Of course I was with Adam last night," she acknowledged. "But not," she paused. "Not like that" Belle laid her head on her arms across her knees as she gazed at Plumette and continued.
"I dream Plumette. Horrible, wretched dreams. And when I woke last night I was so cold and lonely. I needed his warmth and his strength. I could hardly make it through the night without him." Plumette tilted Belle's chin up and touched her nose with one long, elegant finger.
"Then it is good you went to him, oui?" She smiled. "Our men like to feel strong. They like to feel needed. And Lumiere tells me the Master still dreams, too. Wretched, horrid ones, I expect. I imagine one cannot die without dreaming of death for a time afterwards. And you watched him do it, too. I do not envy you that. We all must find comfort where we can." Belle did not miss the haunted look in her friend's eyes, and she knew that she was not alone. It was a horrible burden they all shared. Plumette tapped Belle on the knee as she stood up.
"Come, come now. We must get you dressed to breakfast with monsieur le prince and your good papa. You tell me of your worries while we do this, yes?" Plumette busied herself around the chamber, pouring rosewater in the small basin for Belle to wash her face and laying out clothes for the morning. Belle could not help but smile. All the servants in the castle had troubles of their own, but their cheerfulness was infectious.
"Plumette, may I ask you something?" Belle asked, as she sat at her table and sponged her face and neck.
"But of course, ma cherie," Plumette chirped happily.
"You have been with Lumiere for a long time, have you not?" Belle paused, and then clarified. "As a woman, I mean." Plumette smiled.
"Oh yes. He is a tender and generous man." She hugged Belle's day dress close to her dreamily before holding it out to Belle to take. And then she pretended to frown. "And you may not have him!" Belle laughed.
"I am very content with my Adam," she smiled. "No, I just…" It was a very delicate question and one with which Belle had no experience. It wasn't like a math problem to be solved or a book to be read. She hardly knew where to begin even asking. "You see," she started over. "It's just that I,"
"You are still a virgin," Plumette declared.
"Well, yes." Belle responded.
"And you wish to rectify this!" Plumette guessed.
"Well, not rectify. Exactly," Belle wrinkled her brow slightly. It wasn't that being a virgin was a problem, precisely. "It's just that, well. Adam seems so, well," she paused again. She was rarely so much at a loss for words.
"Hesitant?" Plumette guessed. "Shy? Uncertain?" She paused, and then with a teasing note added "Frightened?"
"Yes!" That was it! "Frightened! And I am, too, I suppose. But he's the one with all the experience. I was rather hoping he would take charge. And he hasn't!"
"Ah, ma cherie," Plumette continued, tying Belle's stays and slipping her day dress over her head. "He was a very different man when he had, as you call it, his 'experience'. And 'experience' is not love. He loves you! He wants to cherish you and honor you. You have never been with a man before. He is afraid, I think, of hurting you." Belle was surprised.
"Hurting me! Why would he be afraid of that?"
"It hurts a little the first time for a woman," Plumette said honestly, turning Belle to face the mirror and smoothing her hair around her dress. "This is normal, expected. If a man really loves a woman, he may be a little frightened of the pain he may cause her. You may need to be a little bold. Or, just wait. Your wedding is soon enough. You go to breakfast now. Your prince is waiting for you."
Belle walked to breakfast slowly. She had much to think about. A plan began to turn over in her head. They were engaged, but truly, what would stop them from a visit to Pere Robert this afternoon? Did a wedding have to be a big affair? Would that help eliminate some of Adam's fright?
Could she be a little bold?
Belle smiled. She thought she could. After all, what was boldness if not determinedness in another form. And she was nothing if not determined.