Kire2
We didn't waste a single second of our time together. Alone in the house with no fear of the children rushing in or other unfortunate interruptions, we kissed and touched, whispered and sighed until sunlight filled the bedroom.
Julia was a picture of unmatched beauty in the morning. I traced my finger along her lips, her collarbone, and naval as she lay beside me, her eyes heavily-lidded, a serene smile on her face.
"Monsieur Kire I do believe we should act as proper adults and attend breakfast," Julia said as she draped her arm over my chest.
"Madame Kire, I have no desire to share you with anyone else for the remainder of the morning."
Just as I expected, she was as disobedient as ever and sat up. She leaned over me, ran her hand down my chest and stomach and paused in the most maddening place imaginable.
"I expect you'll be dressed in ten minutes," she replied as she climbed out of bed and allowed me one last look at her.
There would be no persuading her back into bed. With her robe fastened, she looked over her shoulder, gave me a coy smile, and disappeared down the hall.
Alone in her bedroom, I sat up and wiped my hand down my face. Her room was inherently different in the light of day as opposed to late at night. I studied her dresser with its oval mirror and array of small framed pictures amongst perfume bottles, her jewelry box, two of Lisette's dolls, and other items. Small trinkets and belongings gave life to the room and hinted at her delicate female charm.
My own bedroom was dedicated to my work, which consumed by desk and the top of the dresser. I wondered how we would meld her bottles and beauty potions with my more practical work.
I had a feeling once we returned from our travels she would show me precisely how my belongings would fit perfectly into a separate room.
Julia waited in the kitchen for me to dress and prepare for breakfast. I could hear her humming to herself as she made coffee and I smiled to myself. Once I met her in the kitchen and saw her in a new light green dress with her hair pulled back, I came up behind her and settled my hands on her hips.
"Coffee?" she asked.
I nuzzled her neck and felt her shoulders hunch as she chuckled to herself. "No, but thank you," I replied, my voice low and husky.
"Behave yourself," she warned as she playfully swatted me away. "If we wish to leave by noon, we'll need to pack up the children once we finish eating."
At once I straightened and looked her over as she smoothed her hair. "Where precisely are we headed?" I asked.
"To the sea," she answered.
"That isn't a precise location, Julia," I replied.
"To a cottage," she replied with a bright, welcoming smile.
There was something she wasn't telling me. I looked her over again, my eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. As her husband, she would answer to me.
"Oh, would you stop," she admonished.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You," she said, waving her hand at me. "With that look on your face and your chin tilted up."
I would stand however I preferred and I would hold my chin how I liked. "What of it?" I questioned, prepared to argue with her.
All she offered was a smile in return as she reached for my hand. "Breakfast," she said.
I sneered at her. "Leach," I growled.
Julia led me from the kitchen and glanced at me from over her shoulder. "What did you say, my dear?"
"I said Leach," I replied, louder than before.
This time she didn't question my words or bother to look back at me. "They're not coming to breakfast."
"They have a hand in this cottage, do they not?"
"A wedding gift," she announced.
The gift of the Leaches was truly a present of remarkable proportions. They were, indeed, everywhere.
"Two cottages, actually," she corrected herself as she led me through the gate.
"Two?"
"One for us and one for the children to stay in with Archie and Hermine if we wanted," she answered. "They're next to one another, but Hermine said she would love to have Alex and Lissy stay with her. She thought they would have fun together."
Before I could reply, the back door swung open and Madeline appeared, her face ashen and features pinched. She looked from me to Julia and motioned for us to make haste.
"Madame Giry?" Julia questioned. "What's wrong?"
Madeline wrung her hands. "My daughter," she said, her voice strained.
Julia immediately left my side and took Madeline's hand. "She's started?"
I didn't dare take another step. Madeline nodded and began rambling on about womanly pains, waters, and intensified labor.
"Alright," Julia said, making every attempt to calm Madeline. "I'll send for her physician."
"I sent Ruby for him. He's not well," Madeline said. She shook her head. "He will not travel here."
"Nor should he if he's not feeling well," Julia replied. She looked down at her dress and bit her lower lip. "Half a moment, Madame. Once I am changed into more suitable clothing I'll be at her side."
Madeline's features relaxed ever so slightly. "You will?" she asked hopefully.
"Of course I will," Julia answered. She looked at me briefly. "Come with me."
I looked from her to Madeline, who was still ashen and frozen in place. With the kitchen door cracked open, I heard Meg cry out and the sound of her screaming made me shudder. She sounded as though she was in the midst of torture.
"Madame Giry, if you would return to her side, I'll be gone only a moment, I promise," Julia prompted. "Erik, please come with me."
Without Julia, I doubted Madeline would have moved and I had no desire to enter the house or walk away. Meg's condition piqued my curiosity, but her apparent agony left me filled with worry.
I trailed behind Julia and looked back at my house, which was now quiet. Too quiet. There should have been children laughing, Madeline issuing orders, Meg giving a stern warning, and Charles commenting under his breath that they were all mad.
I paused and found myself staring at the back door, willing the inhabitance to resume their normally irritating behavior. Silence was meant for reflection, death and mourning. There was no place for quiet when children were involved. I dreaded something would happen before Julia could attend to Meg.
Death had never bothered me, but the silence suddenly seemed unbearable. No one in that house deserved to suffer, least of all Meg, who certainly sounded as though she was in agony. Charles had lost his mobility and the thought of him losing his wife or unborn child sickened me.
For years I had lived alone, concerned only for myself. My worry for Meg and Charles and their child proved quite laborious. This was the part of family I hadn't anticipated.
Julia placed her hand on my arm and I found she had already changed into a skirt and blouse, her hair twisted into a bun and jewelry removed. She offered a weak smile and laced her fingers briefly with mine.
"You're concerned," she observed.
Concerned seemed like the least fitting description. I looked her in the eye and frowned. "What will happen to her?" I asked, dreading an honest answer.
"In a few hours, she'll have a new baby," Julia replied. She appeared optimistic despite the situation.
"You're certain?"
Julia shifted her weight. "The first baby often takes his or her time. Depending on when Meg started her pains, she may continue well into the evening." She shook her head at me. "But this is not proper conversation."
"I've read extensively on this condition," I said firmly. Why there were medical textbooks with the opera house I had no idea, but I had voraciously explored volumes on human anatomy, dissection, childbirth, and an array of various ailments.
She smiled, amused by my words. "Well, unfortunately, babies do not follow any sort of textbook."
"I know there can be complications," I blurted out before she discarded my words. "I may never have been present for childbirth, but I understand what her condition entails and the risks involved."
Julia's expression changed. She stepped in closer and lowered her eyes. "Meg is a strong woman. I fully suspect she's frightened and unsure of herself, but she is in good health and good hands." She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed me on the lips. "Your concern for her is very endearing."
"I'm not…concerned," I argued. "I'm…uncertain."
She didn't believe me for a second. "If anyone ever suspected the depth of your heart, you'd be horrified," she said as she looked up at me and shook her head. She placed her hand on my chest and smiled. "I won't tell anyone."
The conversation did little to calm my nerves. "I'm being practical," I replied.
"You're being human," she corrected.
Our conversation ended abruptly as Alexandre burst through the back gate and came to a sudden halt within arm's reach of us.
"Grand-mere said you must hurry," he said, reaching for Julia's hand. "There's a flood in the house."
I started to speak, but Julia put her hand up. "Her waters," she mumbled under her breath before she turned to me. "Stay here. I'll send the children over in a moment."
"No," I protested. I would be damned if I was rounded up along with the children and sent away. Unfortunately, without an ounce of forethought, I had no idea what I would do, but I was willing to stand my ground.
Julia didn't appear overly surprised by my protest. She allowed Alex to drag her toward the house and didn't argue when I followed her up the ramp and into the kitchen.
Ruby was standing by the stove when the three of us entered. "No breakfast, I'm afraid," she mumbled before she hurried from the room.
"Where's Lissy?" Julia asked Alex.
"With Uncle Charles in the study," Alex answered.
Julia looked at me and nodded before she marched out of the room. The moment she left, I heard Meg cry out again and I shuddered. The door at the end of the hall opened and shut and I heard Julia's muffled voice attempting to sooth Meg.
Alex wandered closer and looked up at me, his brow furrowed. "Why isn't there mud all over the floor?" he asked.
His question naturally caught me off guard. "What did you ask?"
He repeated his question, which still made no sense to me.
"Why would there be mud on the floor?" I asked him, growing impatient.
"From all the dirt and the water," he said, imitating my exasperation.
"Dirt?" I questioned.
He crumpled his face and shifted his weight as though he had lost his last shred of patience with me. "From Aunt Meg."
His words garnered my attention as I realized what he meant. I had forgotten he thought Meg was filled with dirt. Overhearing Ruby and Madeline, he also knew there was water involved.
There seemed no suitable explanation. I stared at him, uncertain of what to say. No matter how scientifically I answered or how simply I tried to explain, there would be a barrage of questions I was not prepared to answer. With Alex, there were always questions.
"You said when you first held me, I was red as a tomato. Do you think I had red mud on me?" he asked before I could think of anything to tell him.
"Most certainly," I answered, hoping he would be more interested in mud than childbirth.
As expected, this seemed to thrill him. His smile widened and he took off like a shot down the hall to tell Charles he was a red dirt derived baby. I followed him into the study and found Charles blankly staring at the floor. He nodded while Alex rambled on and on, though I doubted he heard a word from my son.
He looked up, his eyes wide. "I'm sorry, sir, were you speaking?"
"I was not yet," I replied as I walked behind him and pushed his wheelchair from the room, nearly colliding with Lisette, who pressed herself to the wall in dramatic fashion I could only assume was influenced by Hermine Leach.
"Where are we going, Monsieur?" Charles questioned.
"Out," I answered.
