Ch 111

Phelan stood with his suitcase in his right hand and his left arm protectively blocking a child from a horse-drawn carriage and a wagon pulled by two mules heading in opposite directions along the bustling street.

He looked down at the little girl dressed in a dark brown coat that was missing buttons and a tattered green dress that came up to her knees, nodding as he spoke with quite a bit of animation to his words.

"Apolline," I said under my breath. The girl's resemblance to Claude was uncanny, a younger, more feminine version of her brother if ever there was one right down to their slim statures and ill-fitting clothing. She held my brother's hand loosely and stood as far from him as she could manage, her expression forlorn.

As if she had heard me speak her name, she turned her attention to where I stood beside Dr. Khan, her eyes growing wide at the sight of me. A tangled mess of blond hair blew into her face, partially obscuring her expression. Phelan looked up, following her gaze to where we stood.

"That is him," I said before I swiftly moved across the street, dodging the approaching wagon with Dr. Khan hurrying behind me.

Apolline stiffened as I approached, her expression a familiar look of terror that offended me more than it should have. I slowed my pace and instinctively touched my mask to make certain it was secured in place.

"Erik," Phelan blandly acknowledged. He bent at the waist and gave the child a reassuring nod. "This is my brother, the one I told you about at the train station," he said, his voice soft and calm. "He is a friend of your brother's. Claude has told you about him, yes?"

The girl nodded, her eyes cast down. There was a rectangular tag pinned to her coat with capital letters that read DELIVER TO E.M KIRE, PARIS as if she were no different than a parcel to be left at my doorstep.

"What were the names of the children I told you about?" Phelan asked.

"Alexandre and Lisette," she meekly answered.

"That is correct," Phelan praised. "You have an excellent memory, Apolline. This is their father."

"May I see my brother now?" she questioned.

"He is resting," I said.

"As you should be," Dr. Khan muttered to my brother, who ignored the doctor's advice.

"But you may see Claude this afternoon when I pay him a visit," I continued.

She shuddered at my voice and took a step back. "I will be very quiet," she said. "I promise."

Phelan placed his suitcase on the curb and gently grasped the girl's shoulder until she met his eye. "Mademoiselle, I am a gentleman and do not make promises I cannot keep. I will see you safely to your brother's side, but first, a bite to eat, some tea, and a moment to gather our collective thoughts is in order. You must be famished after such a long journey, and I will not send you to Claude's side in such a weary and disheveled state."

At the suggestion of a meal, she perked up and Phelan smiled.

"The very best bakery on this side of the city is up ahead." He took a deep breath. "Can you smell the bread?"

Apolline nodded.

"My beloved niece Elizabeth works there. Would you like to visit?"

Apolline eyed me momentarily. "And then I can see my brother?"

"As long as the physician allows visitors." Phelan cleared his throat and turned his attention to Dr. Khan.

"As long as my other patient allows for a brief examination," he said, eyes narrowed as he looked at Phelan's temple where he'd been struck by falling debris. The wound was closed, but the side of his face was scraped and bruised, making the injury look far more ghastly than it apparently felt.

"If it will please you, Dr. Khan," Phelan answered.

Kamil gave a shake of his head before excusing himself and hurrying to his next patient, saying he would return to his office by noon.

Once the doctor crossed the street, Phelan retrieved his suitcase and nodded in the direction of the bakery. "Do you mind if my brother walks with us?"

Given the way she warily stared at me, I thought for certain Apolline would say that she preferred me keeping a safe distance, but she nodded and once again took my brother's hand.

"Madeline said you had returned home this morning. Did you miss your train?" I asked.

"No," Phelan gruffly answered. "I purchased my ticket and made it to the platform with twelve minutes to spare." He looked from Apolline to me. "How good is your English?"

Thanks to Madeline switching between French and English frequently, my language skills were better than they should have been, considering I had never visited a country where English was the preferred language.

"Impeccable," I answered in English.

"She was asleep in the train station when I arrived," Phelan said, keeping his voice low despite the child having no idea what we said. "I'm not sure if she was sent here with only the clothes on her back or if her belongings were stolen, but she had nothing with her. I wouldn't have noticed her at all if it hadn't been for two degenerate bastards attempting to lift her skirt while she slept. Boys these days have absolutely no manners."

"Claude would be furious."

"As was I," Phelan said. "They learned a swift lesson on how to conduct themselves like proper gentlemen. I suppose the only benefit was noticing her tucked into the corner with the tag on her coat."

"Raoul said she would be on the train this morning. I had no idea she would arrive this early."

Phelan shrugged. "Well, there appears to be some sort of miscommunication as she apparently arrived on the very first train of the day. The poor thing had no idea her brother would not be receiving her at the station."

"She is aware he is injured?"

"No, I told her that he was not feeling well enough to meet her there as I figured it would be less upsetting than and she promptly stomped on my foot and attempted to run away. For such a petite girl, she is quite strong."

"How were you able to stop her?"

"She had the misfortune of running into a door that said 'pull' when she attempted to push through. Once I caught up to her and was able to prove I knew her brother, she agreed to no further attempts at bodily harm." He glanced at the girl again and smiled. "She is skittish, which I suppose is natural considering she is alone in an unfamiliar city, and fortunately for me unable to read."

"How much further?" she asked, squinting up at my brother.

"Half a block," he answered, switching back to French. "You may eat whatever you wish within reason, however, I will suggest the cinnamon apple puffs because they are heavenly and Elizabeth adds extra cinnamon to mine."

She nodded, offering a slight smile at the prospect of sweets.

"Are you staying another day?" I asked.

Phelan looked at me, his smile vanishing. "No," he answered flatly. "I didn't miss my train for you, and once I have seen her reunited with her brother I shall return home as planned."

"Lan," I pleaded.

"Phelan," he corrected.

"You left before I had the opportunity to speak to you."

"Are there not words being exchanged between us at this very moment?"

"You know that isn't what I meant."

He squared his shoulders and turned to face me. "What do you want to say to me, Erik?" he gruffly questioned. "Speak."

I stared at him, my tongue in knots as I hadn't the proper amount of time to rehearse what I wished to say to him. "I…I…"

"As I expected." Phelan grunted and turned away from me. He proceeded to escort Apolline across the street and toward the bakery with no further words exchanged between us. I watched as Phelan bent and spoke quietly to Apolline, making her giggle at last before she walked through the door he held open, the bell above jingling.

"Uncle!" Elizabeth exclaimed the moment she saw Phelan walk into the otherwise vacant bakery. She trotted around the counter, removing her apron in the process, and swiftly embraced him before she stepped back and examined Apolline. "Who do you have here?"

Phelan introduced the two of them while I held back and pretended to carefully peruse the various pastries and breads freshly baked and on display upon stands of various heights and colors. While the rest chatted, it was painfully evident I was out of place the moment I stepped out of my own home and clear that Phelan had no desire to make amends. Part of me sincerely doubted he would notice if I slipped out the door and returned home.

"Monsieur Kire?" Elizabeth said. She stood on the tips of her toes and peered around Phelan, waving at me once I looked in her direction. "How lovely to see you."

"You as well, Mademoiselle."

"My father was just talking about you this morning at breakfast," she said as she approached. "He said you were going to be conducting some of your music soon."

"In October," I replied. "There are tickets set aside for you, your father, and your fiance if you would care to attend."

She offered a wide grin in return. "How very generous of you to think of us. I must say I am glad to hear the rumors are true. What an absolute delight it will be to hear your music performed the way you always intended."

"I certainly hope it is well-received."

"It will be." She looked from me to Phelan. "Do you want your usual, Uncle?"

"Two of everything, darling niece."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "I truly don't know where you put all of the food you consume, Uncle Phelan," she teased. "I wouldn't be able to fit behind the counter if I ate like you."

When I turned my attention back to my brother he had seated himself at a small round table with two metal chairs. Apolline sat perched near the window where she gazed out at the street, her blue eyes distant and expression forlorn. Phelan crossed his arms and looked at me. "Do you intend to stand there all morning?" he groused.

His tone reminded me of the first time we had met, his icy expression mirroring the man he once again strongly resembled. My stomach knotted, my thoughts erratic, but still I forced myself to fetch a chair and sit between Apolline and Phelan.

"How was your train ride to Paris, Apolline?" I asked.

The girl barely spared a glance in my direction. She recoiled from me before she dared to speak. "I don't know," she said under her breath.

Elizabeth brought a light blue platter decorated with green filigree to the table and set it down in the middle. "The Uncle Phelan Special," she announced.

"Finally the recognition I deserve," he replied.

"I'm the only one who calls this massive amount of sugar by that name, but perhaps when I am the baker's wife he will allow me to flatter my favorite uncle."

"I will turn this beautiful selection into art as a show of my gratitude."

"How long are you visiting?" Elizabeth asked over her shoulder as she returned to the counter and retrieved a silver tray with tea.

"I must return home today," Phelan answered.

Immediately Elizabeth frowned. She set the tray on the table and swiped a lock of dark hair from her eyes. "Have you spoken to my father?"

Phelan poured water into a teacup over what smelled like mint tea. "Not recently," he admitted, averting his gaze.

Elizabeth placed her hand on her hip and shook her head. "Uncle, you know how much father–"

"Not now, my dear," Phelan said, an edge betraying his attempt at a pleasant tone. He forced a smile that failed to reach his eyes. "Time did not allow me to see Valgarde as I have been in town for less than twenty-four hours. Next time I will make sure to pay him a visit first."

"That is what you always say," she grumbled. She gave a disgruntled sigh, turned on her heel and walked briskly from the table, leaving us in a moment of uncomfortable silence. Apolline glanced at the two of us before she snatched up the largest sweet roll on the top of the pile and attempted to stuff it into her mouth.

Phelan cocked a brow at her eagerness to consume food. "Are you a little girl or a hamster?"

Apolline's puffed out cheeks flushed. "What is a hamster?" she mumbled past the pastry still lodged in her mouth. Crumbs and powdered sugar tumbled onto her coat unnoticed.

Phelan exhaled and proceeded to pat his coat pockets until he retrieved a folded piece of paper and stub of a lead pencil barely large enough to fit into his grasp. He smoothed out the paper, which appeared to be a notice of updated train times, and proceeded to sketch a rough drawing of a hamster with bulging cheeks and crumbs tumbling from its mouth. He hastily drew a simple frock with buttons in a crooked line and tiny shoes sticking out from a generous hamster belly. Once finished, he placed his elbow on the table, propped his chin against the heel of his hand, and turned the page so that the child could see his work.

"This," he said. "Apolline the very hungry hamster."

Her blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "Is it a make-believe animal?" she questioned once she was finally able to swallow hr food.

"They are as real as the three of us seated at this table, but not native to Paris as far as I am aware," Phelan answered.

"Where do you live?" she asked.

"Brussels. Do you know where that is?" he asked. The girl shook her head. "I suppose it doesn't matter. I have seen a few at the park near my home there. These tiny little creatures hoard seeds when the birds are done picking through the food little old ladies scatter for them. They stuff their cheeks and scamper off to their holes to enjoy their spoils in peace." He narrowed his eyes. "Do you intend to deliver a surprise treat to your brother in your cheek pouches?"

Apolline shook her head and wrinkled her nose. "I don't have cheek pouches."

"Ah, my mistake," Phelan said. "Then I suppose we shall need to ask for a bag in order to offer Claude some of our delicious pastries."

"I think Claude would like this." She sat forward, studying the drawing.

"Yes, I think he would, but he would add something more fanciful to my drawing, like a frog riding a bicycle with a pie on its head," Phelan replied. "The drawing is yours if you wish to keep it."

She picked up the paper and the tag on her coat hit the edge of the drawing. "What does this say?" she asked, showing the tag to my brother.

"You cannot read?" I asked.

Her cheeks reddened and she shook her head. Despite already knowing The Elise had failed the children in its care, I was still surprised that she was not able to at least read at her age.

"It says 'Deliver to E. M. Kire, Paris," Phelan answered, tapping each letter with his index finger.

"What is E.M. Kire? The name of the train station?"

Phelan nodded toward me. "No, that is his initials and last name."

Apolline visibly stiffened. She warily looked at me, her grip on the paper with the train schedule and drawing of a hamster tightening as she once again glanced at the tag. "Does this mean I belong to you now?" she questioned, her voice filled with dread. "You have paid for me?"

My heart stuttered at the way her voice cracked with emotion and the trepidation in her gaze as she once again stared back at me. I realized how frightening it must have been for her to step off the train to find herself alone. Now she sat with two men she didn't know; one who gave the verbal promise to guide her to her brother and the second one masked to hide a deformity.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "No, I did not purchase you."

Her bottom lip quivered, her eyes glassy as she blinked at me. "Have you adopted me?" she warily questioned. "Mademoiselle Roche said I am too old to be adopted. Families only desire babies."

"That is complete bull…" Phelan caught himself before speaking harshly in front of a child. "Butter," he said through clenched teeth. "Bull butter."

"May I ask who put you on the train?" I asked.

Apolline pursed her lips. "A man in a blue overcoat," she answered.

"Was his name de Chagny?" I asked.

"I don't know," she answered, her tone becoming more frustrated. "He argued with the headmistress and then I was told I must leave." Again her lip began to quiver. "I was not permitted to say good-bye to my friends."

"What did he tell you about traveling to Paris?"

"He said everything was handled. I did not know what he meant."

Phelan and I exchanged looks of concern at the way she had been abruptly removed from The Elise. Necessary as it was, the situation was far from ideal.

"You are nine years of age?" I asked.

She nodded and sniffled, the flood of emotion more than she could bear. "Have I done something wrong?" she asked.

"No, you are not at fault. I understand how difficult this change is for you," I gently said. "And I understand how frightened you must be arriving here in such fashion. It was not my intention to send for you like this."

Apolline blinked at me and frowned. Judging by her expression, she doubted the sincerity of my words. "Why did you send for me?"

"So that you could return to your family," I answered. "I was not much older than you are now when I arrived alone in Paris. I still recall what it felt like being in a very large city, surrounded by strangers."

Her eyes widened. "If you were my age, then that must have been a very long time ago."

Phelan snorted at Apolline's unintentional insult. "You are quite observant, my dear. My brother appears to be a very old fellow, ancient as they come. It's truly a wonder he recalls such a detail so far into the past."

"How amusing coming from someone older than me," I grumbled.

Phelan shrugged. "I clearly look younger than you, but there is no denying I'm a world more mature."

I gave him a significant look before turning my attention back to the girl seated between us. She looked as though at any moment she might spring from her seat and dash out the door, disappearing into the nearest alleyway.

I thought of how it had taken weeks for me to truly trust my uncle, a man who had been little more than a shadow in the night. Desperately I had wanted to believe that someone would want me despite my many faults, despite the burden I was to those responsible for my care. My desire to be wanted prevailed over my trepidation, but I thought often of how my trust could have been misplaced and how if he had not had my best interest in mind, I could have ended up in a much worse situation than languishing beneath my parents' home.

"Why were you alone?" Apolline dared to ask. She studied the masked side of my face with unabashed curiosity.

"I was separated from my family," I answered. "I was three when my brother and I were taken from each other."

"I was three when my mother died," Apolline said. "How old were you when you found your family?"

I briefly looked across the table at Phelan. "Much older than you are now, I answered, turning my attention back to the child. "Are you pleased to finally be in Paris with your brother?"

Briefly she hesitated. "I…I think so."

Phelan furrowed his brow. "You aren't certain?"

Apolline's cheeks reddened. "He is my brother," she said as though needing to reassure herself. "But I have lived far away from him for as long as I can remember. What if he decides I am too much trouble?"

Phelan cleared his throat. "Well, as an older brother, I can attest that you are most certainly a bit of trouble."

Apolline's lips parted. "That is what I am afraid of."

"You've nothing to be afraid of," Phelan said. He took a sip of his tea and removed a glazed pastry stuffed with baked apples from the plate. "Older siblings are perfect. You simply cannot compete with us."

I snorted at his response.

"Which is made quite evident at this very table considering my younger brother sounds like a hog being sent to market." He glared at me, which made Apolline cover her mouth and giggle. "As I was saying, as an older brother, I naturally had more worldly experience, not to mention I am taller and more charming."

"And modest," I added under my breath.

"Claude has told me a great deal about his little sister. For years he has wanted nothing more than to be reunited with you, but the circumstances were beyond his control."

Apolline looked up at Phelan with relief in her gaze. "He told you this?"

"Of course he did, and I am certain he will tell you himself." Phelan's gaze momentarily flashed toward me. "And if I may offer an unsolicited anecdote from an elder brother to a younger sister: no one will ever be there for you the same way as your brother. I hope that when you are together, you can confide in one another and have the type of bond all older brothers are meant to have with their younger siblings."

Apolline frowned and forced a nod. "But he doesn't need me."

"Of course he does," Phelan assured her.

The girl frowned and issued a skeptical look at my brother.

Phelan leaned toward her. "May I tell you a secret?" he loudly whispered.

Apolline nodded and turned her ear toward my brother.

"I sometimes forget, but I needed my little brother possibly more than he needed me. I don't know what it's like to be the younger sibling, but I do know that even when we were not together, I never forgot how much I loved my little brother. Claude is no different. Give him the opportunity to be the big brother and I am certain you will be surprised at how much he relies on you. Will you look out for Claude?"

Apolline readily nodded. "If he asks me."

Phelan tilted his head downward. "Us older brothers typically will not ask for assistance. Perhaps it is pride or our stubborn nature-or the fact that we believe so greatly in our own perfection. But I have faith that as the younger sibling, you will know when he needs you and be there for him."

I found myself staring intently at Phelan, at the person's whose trust I had betrayed. He met my eye, his expression once again hardened when he glanced at me, the hurt behind his eyes evident through his stony exterior. His hand had been extended and I had done what I naturally excelled at: I pushed him away.

"Lan-" I started to say.

"If Claude does cares for me, why didn't he come to the train station?" Apolline sullenly questioned. "And why can't I see him now?"

"Well, as I said earlier-" Phelan pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I want to see my brother," Apolline firmly said.

A man and a woman walked into the bakery and greeted Elizabeth with enough enthusiasm to pause the conversation at our table. They were a younger couple, around the same age as Elizabeth, and asked for their usual order.

"Did you hear about the shoe factory collapse?" the man asked. He pulled a newspaper out from beneath his arm and showed her the front page.

"I did," Elizabeth said, shaking her head in dismay as she grabbed a paper bag and placed two loaves of bread inside. "My father and I spoke of it this morning. What a terrible tragedy."

The woman nodded in agreement, forcing a frown. "I heard there were no survivors. So many young lives lost."

Immediately Apolline sucked in a wild breath and shot out of her chair, her eyes feral. "The shoe factory collapsed?" she screamed, her voice at such a high pitch that the hairs on my arms stood on end. "Was my brother inside?"

"Apolline," Phelan pleaded. He reached out, but she swatted his hand away, her teeth bared like a cornered beast giving a final warning before she lashed out.

"You have lied to me!" she screamed.

"No, we have not lied to you," I said. "Please, sit."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her chest heaving with each labored, distraught breath as she scanned the bakery.

"Sweetheart, what is the matter?" Elizabeth questioned as she hurried from behind the counter toward our table.

"Where is my brother?" she screamed. "I want my brother!"