Summer II

. Ӝ .

I awoke late that morning. It took some time for my eyes to focus on the clothed top of the bed’s canopy and my other senses to come to me again. Still drowsy, I inhaled deeply and let the breath escape in a yawn. I was taken off guard when the sharp smell of the candle’s flame was the only one that came to my nose. The sweet scent of a spring garden was absent, and I glanced to my left to find Élisabeth gone from her place in bed.
         I called her name out of instinct, but the room remained still. I sat up, supporting myself with my elbows and searched the room for her dark curls and white nightgown. There was nothing—only shadows occupied the space. Fear gripped me. She was gone.
         “Élisabeth?” I called again but there was still nothing. I pulled back the covers and got out of bed. Throwing on some clothes and tying my hair back, I left my room and went downstairs. Mardi came out of the dining room as I reached the foyer, but upon seeing me, she hesitated. “Monsieur, you’re awake.” Her eyes traveled up and down at my disheveled state. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”
         “No thank you, Mardi. Have you seen Élisabeth?” I asked.
         “I saw her come down some time ago,” she said, cleaning her tiny hands on her apron. “I believe she said something about going outside.”
         Relieved, I hurried down the hall and into the courtyard where the morning sun was trapped behind the treetops and the lush grass danced in the breeze. She could have been in the garden or the stables with the horses. She enjoyed both places.
         My gaze swept to the cherry blossom where I saw a shadow sitting at the base of the trunk. Smiling, I went over.
         “Élisabeth, dear?”
         She wiped her cheeks and sniffed. I was surprised to see her still in her nightgown and shawl. “Oh, Andre.” I could hear the catch in her voice. “I’m sorry if I worried you.” She glanced up at me but did not hold my eyes. She had been crying.
         My chest tightened as I knelt beside her. “Élisabeth, love, what’s wrong?”
         She pushed more tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. Her eyes still fixed on the distance, she drew in a deep breath. “It’s nothing,” she whispered.
         I knew her too well to know that it wasn’t just nothing. She was too strong to cry over nothing. I remembered the conversation we had had about her fear of death and how she seemed to think it followed her. I was sure I knew what she was thinking. My father’s death had been only one more to add to her list.
         “Don’t you dare think my father’s death was your fault.”
         It was mine, I thought.
         She finally looked at me and I saw her blue eyes swirling with tears. I could hear Rupert’s words in my head. That’s that strong front she has about her.
         I brushed my fingers against her wet cheek, catching the drops on the tips. “Élisabeth, you cannot blame yourself for this. And you aren’t cursed. Death is a natural part of life.” I could not stand to see her this way. “Please,” I said, my voice soft, “don’t be upset.”
         She said nothing, only leaned into my touch.
         It had been a week since my father was buried and the heaviness of grief still lingered in the house. I couldn’t have it anymore. I needed my life back, the happiness back. It would be what my father would have wanted.
         “Why don’t we go out for an evening?” I suggested. “I’ll speak with Rupert and we can have dinner.”
         A weak smile crept across her lips. “I would like that.”          



         I placed another document to the side and looked at the still mountainous stack in front of me. I had been working for hours and to not much avail. I sighed, pulling another document from the top and glancing it over. My eyes were burning from the strain of reading so much in such little light, and I wondered how my father had ever done it. I never knew all the properties our family owned and rented and the work that came with it. I now understood why he spent so much time in his study.
         I looked around the empty room that, along with his bedroom, had been his domain. But now it was I who sat in his leather chair that was thoroughly broken in but a little too big for my taste. It made me feel like an intruder, like I really didn’t belong there. Around his desk, which was much larger than my own, there was a small globe that sat in the corner along with his silver pocket watch. To my left there were only a few pens and empty bottles of ink. The room smelled heavily of cigars and cologne, and even though the smell repulsed me, it would not be changed. This was and always would be his domain.
         I went to dip my pen when I found the flask was empty. I grumbled and pushed it aside with the others. Pushing the chair back, I opened the drawer in search of another. My breath caught at what I found. In an oval bronze frame, a photograph of my mother lay on top. I picked it up. There was no smile across her lips, but her round eyes gave a hint of a smile underneath. Her light hair almost faded into the white background, and I smiled at the trait I had inherited from her.
         I turned the frame over to see her maiden name inscribed in the back and the year it was taken—1874. That was the year they had gotten married. This must have been the picture she had given him for their arranged engagement. I had never received one from Élisabeth due to her family’s money situation, and although I had complained about it many times before, I knew now that didn’t much matter. It wouldn’t have changed anything.
         Placing the photograph back into the drawer next to the familiar silver cigar tin, I took out a fresh ink bottle and uncorked it. I smiled as I closed the drawer and dipped my pen again.
         After another hour of signing papers, there was a knock at the door. When Élisabeth stepped in, I breathed a sigh in relief. She came to the desk and grimaced when she saw the still tall pile of unfinished work. “Still busy?” she asked.
         I gestured to the desk as an answer. “I’m sorry I missed dinner.” I hated to miss any time with her.
         She offered me a small smile. “Well, you will not be missing tonight, will you? Rupert and his date have just arrived.”
         I swallowed roughly. I had forgotten all about our plans for the evening.
         “You forgot, didn’t you?”
         I pushed out the chair and rose. “I’m sorry, Élisabeth. It seems I have misplaced my head.”
         “Should I tell them—”
         “No, we are going,” I said firmly. “We both need this.” I went to her, lifted her hand, and placed a small kiss on each of her knuckles.
         She chuckled. “Yes we do.”
         I glanced at the desk one more time, knowing all that work would be waiting for me when I returned. I tried to drive away that thought and focus on just spending a calm, beautiful evening with my wife and my best friend as we descended the stairs and stepped outside where the carriage waited.
         Rupert appeared in the open door and stepped down to greet us. He embraced us both and then gestured for Élisabeth to enter the carriage. I went to follow but Rupert caught my sleeve.
         “I want to let you know that you are lucky you and I share some history or else I would have to kill you,” he said with a straight face.
         I stared at him blankly.
         “You gave me no time to find a girl to come with me.”
         That was all? “So you’re alone?” I shrugged. “That is hardly enough to kill me over. We will still enjoy tonight, the three of us.”
         He waved a finger. “Oh, Andre, that is where you are mistaken. I have a woman for this evening, although I am not sure if ‘woman’ is the correct term to use in this case.”
         “Rupert, you are being ridiculous. I am sure it’s not as bad as you say,” I replied, but the look of displeasure on his face told me otherwise.
         He held a hand out to the open coach door. Suddenly, a fit of giggles erupted followed by a very loud and sharp snort. I understood then why he was so angry and it took everything in me not to burst out in laughter.
         “Francis?” I said, a chuckle escaping. “That lovely girl you fancied at Madame Dautry’s soirée?” 
         He scoffed. “I never fancied her.” He looked over at the door again and sighed. “You are so lucky, Andre. That is all I am saying.”
         I patted his shoulder and we climbed into the carriage. I sat next to Élisabeth while Rupert sat, reluctantly, beside his companion.
         Élisabeth looked between Rupert and Francis who was wearing a white dress with great volume to the sleeves and a pink ribbon around her waist this evening. A matching ribbon was also braided into her hair. Sitting so close together in the tight space, her and Rupert’s height difference was only more noticeable. She was even shorter than Élisabeth.
         “Oh, this is exciting,” she squealed and clasped her hands together. “Where are you lovely gentlemen taking us this evening?”
         Rupert shot me a glare.
         “Er—I have reservations for Le Port Maison,” I said.
         “I’ve never been there before.” She bounced in her seat.
         “It’s a small place near the harbor.”
         “Oh, how romantic.”
         Rupert rolled his eyes so dramatically, I was surprised the girl had not seen. Even Élisabeth had noticed and covered her mouth to prevent her laughter from spilling.
         So thankful to have her at that moment, I took her hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
         Francis was the only one to talk for the rest of the ride. My lids grew heavy with every word that left her lips. She spoke of visiting England when she was a child, obviously trying to persuade Rupert’s thoughts of her. It was not very successful. Rupert continued to glower at me. Even when the cart rocked from uneven streets, his eyes stayed locked onto me.
         Le Port Maison was nestled between the water and a quiet back street. Even though it was in a secluded area, many knew of the great reputation and atmosphere of the quaint place. As soon as we got out of the carriage, Francis shrieked with joy. Rupert cringed at the sound.
         Ignoring them, I looked around. Under the restaurant’s overhang, a few chairs and tables were set up. A candle sat in the center of each, flickering in the misty breeze. The smell of salt was thick in the air and when I looked to the right, I saw the gazebo Élisabeth and I had visited not too long ago. It was there that I had confessed my love for her and received rejection. It was there that Élisabeth had given me hope that one day she might feel the same.
         “It looks like it is about to rain,” Élisabeth said, shielding her eyes as she looked up at the dark, starless sky.
         “Well, might as well just go home,” Rupert added and took a step toward the carriage.
         This time I snatched his sleeve. “Let’s go inside. It’s only rain.”
         He grimaced.
         We went inside. The restaurant was small with only a few tables set near the tall, opened windows. Much like the Hotel Royal, the hostess stood behind a podium and took my name. She led us outside on the veranda where four chairs were set up around a table draped in rich navy. We took our seat as we did in the carriage.
         I gave Élisabeth’s hand a loving pat, which she replied with a smile. From over the center candle, I could see Mademoiselle Neal watching us. Then she rubbed Rupert’s arm and batted her lashes at him. Rupert looked as if he was about to get sick from her touch.
         The wine was poured and Rupert drained his in a single gulp. The moment another waiter passed, he ordered something stronger.
         “Er—Mademoiselle, how do you know Madame Dautry? We saw you at her soirée,” I said to begin a conversation.
         She sat up straight and cleared her throat. “Oh, she is my aunt.”
         Rupert coughed as if he had choked on air. “Madame Dautry is your… aunt?”
         She nodded, but her expression looked far from proud as she looked at Élisabeth. “I heard you are in her Ladies of Grace.”
         Élisabeth seemed to still be recoiling from the shock for it took her a moment to respond. “Yes, yes I am. She’s a lovely woman.”
         “And rich,” Francis huffed. Her voice had taken on a different tone entirely. “The old bat has money in every pocket but doesn’t like to share an ounce of it. Even with family.”
         Élisabeth gaped at her harsh words.
         “But you have to respect her, you know? My mother use to always say that we had to be kind so when the witch finally died, we could inherit…” she paused as if looking for the best fitting word, “well, some of her inheritance, of course.”
         The waiter came, and before he could even put down Rupert’s drink, he took it from him and drank it down. I debated on ordering one myself but decided against it.
         Francis rubbed Rupert’s arm again and put on a dazzling smile as she looked up at him. “Oh darling, it is such a beautiful night tonight. We should go for a walk after dinner.” Her voice was back to its normal childlike pitch.
         I did Rupert the honor of pushing my wine glass over for him to take.
         The rain began to fall as we finished our cakes and teas, and I was thankful for the thin material roof above us for shelter. Beside me, Élisabeth stared out at the black water where the sound of the drops mixed with the swooshing of the waves. Her silence was worrying me, and I wondered what she was thinking. I hoped it wasn’t about my father or her parents. I couldn’t stand to see her cry again.
         I had to speak with her. Alone.
         I glanced at my friend who was now slumped in his chair with his arms draped over the chair-arms and his head swinging side to side. There were empty glasses all around his place setting from all the drinks he had consumed during our quick meal. I just didn’t have the heart to scold him this time.
         I whispered his name.
         Rupert stared at me for a moment and blinked as if he was debating who I was.
         “Rupert, could you give me and Élisabeth a moment alone?” I asked. 
         Then he scowled and pushed himself up from his chair to his feet.
         “Are we leaving already?” Francis asked, standing too.
         Élisabeth and I followed.
         Francis took Rupert’s hand, rubbed his palm against her over-powdered cheek, and hummed in delight. Rupert tugged his hand away and growled, but she didn’t seem fazed by it. She just laughed.
         “Please Rupert?” I mouthed. 
         Rupert glanced between me and Élisabeth then took Francis’s hand. “Francis, d-dear,” he slurred. “How about that walk now?” He turned the woman around and began to lead her away, wobbling slightly as he walked.
         I waited for him to disappear before I turned.
         “That was strange,” said Élisabeth.
         “I asked him to go,” I replied.
         She gave me a curious look.
         “I wanted to spend some time alone with you.”
         “Did you have enough of Mademoiselle Neal?” She laughed, and after an evening of Francis’s giggles and snorts, it was a relief to hear the lovely sound of it.
         “The moment the carriage pulled up at our house.”
         “That is so cruel!” she exclaimed but smiled. Then, she looked out where the rain came down steadily. Before I could say a word, Élisabeth ran into the street, water splashing up with every step.
         “Élisabeth!” I exclaimed, watching her move to the center of the street which looked more like a lake now. “What are you doing?”
         She held out her arms and laughed. The hem on her dress was a darker shade then the rest, and speckles were littering the bodice as the rain continued to fall. “Come on, Andre. It’s only rain.”
         I winced when I recognized my words to Rupert when we had first arrived.
         I lifted my eyes to the roof above me and shook my head. “Are you mad? You are going to get ill,” I said.
         “I don’t need another mother, Andre.” She crossed her arms. “Come on. It’s fun.”
         Not sure, I stayed put and searched the area for any passerby. “Someone may see us,” I said, lowering my tone. There were people still in the restaurant who I was sure were watching Élisabeth, and I felt my face heating with the thought. How embarrassing this was! I had to get her out of the rain before she became ill or was seen by someone.
         “Élisabeth, come here. Please.” I hated the sound of pleading in my voice, but it couldn’t be helped. “Please, Élisabeth.”
         But she ignored me and waved me over. “Andre, come here.”
         “Someone may see,” I repeated.
         “And?” she replied. “You really need to stop thinking about what other people think.”
         In a world where appearances meant everything? That was near impossible. “Thinking is a weakness of mine.”
         “I’ve noticed,” she said with a chuckle. “Now, come on.” Élisabeth held out her hand.
         I sighed, staring at her offering. There were so many things telling me not to do this. But then there was Élisabeth who was telling me I should. I shrugged off my jacket, draped it over a nearby chair, and stepped onto the street.
         The rain felt warm on my skin with the night’s cool air. Flipping up my collar, I hurried to her. She laughed as I took her hand. “See,” she breathed, “you are still alive.”
         I took in the sight of her. Her gown was drenched and clung to her body like wet paper. She attempted to wipe away her sticking curls from her face but was unsuccessful. I couldn’t help but smile down at that beautiful face as I gently pushed away one of the strands of hair from her cheeks.
         “Dance with me,” she said, tugging our still joined hands.
         “Dance? Here?” In the middle of a street? In the rain?
         She nodded. “No thinking, Andre. Just you and me.”
         I did like the sound of that. I brought her close and wrapped an arm around her waist. I paused when another thought came to me. “But there’s no music.”
         She put a hand on her hip and glared at me. “Andre…”
         “Oh, right, right. Sorry.”
         She brought the hand on her hip to my shoulder. “Just listen to the sound of the rain on the stones,” she whispered. “It will be our music.”
         I cocked an eyebrow as I held her and she began to sway. “You have to be the strangest woman I have ever met,” I said.
         She lifted her chin. “Oh, a word and a blow.”
         I laughed when I recognized the quote from Romeo & Juliet.
         As we rocked in place, I closed my eyes. The soft pattering of the rain came at a constant rhythm that was almost melodic and soothing. Élisabeth pressed her cheek against my chest and I rested my chin on the top of her head. The feeling of her breasts against me and her hot breath against my damp shirt made my mind race. It was moments like this that I loved the most, just her and me alone and all the pressures of the world aside. In the back of my mind I knew there was still a mountain of work waiting for me at home, but it didn’t seem to matter as much as it had before. I was soaked and my clothes were surely ruined, but still it did not matter. I was just enjoying my time with her.
         I stepped away and then held up our hands for her to twirl underneath. I spun her into me, and she threw her head back and laughed as the rain kissed her face and made it sparkle under the street lamps. Once my arms were around her again, I stared into her bright eyes that reminded me so much of a spring sky and the hope it bestowed.
         “Thank you for the dance,” she muttered, her cheeks flushed from laughing.
         I nodded. “And thank you for the fever I am sure I’m going to get.”
         She lightly pushed my shoulder.
         I chuckled. “I love you, Madame DeMonté.”
         She glanced away, as she normally did when I said those words, and bit her lip. “I know.” It was the same response every time and my heart sank against my will.
         My forced smile caused my mouth to ache, but I leaned closer to her wanting nothing more than to kiss her and pretend that my heart was not standing alone.
         “Andre!”
         I groaned at the sound of Rupert’s voice and when I felt Élisabeth step away. I turned to find him standing in front of Le Port Maison with Francis beside him. She rocked back and forth, clutching her hands to her chest. “How romantic!” she sang.
         It made me wonder how long they had been there and how much they had seen. Taking Élisabeth’s hand, I turned up my collar again and brought her under the overhang where my friend and Francis stood completely dry.
         Rupert just chuckled as he looked us over. “I’m sorry if I interrupted anything…” he raised a brow and gestured to our sopping clothes, “but F-Francis and I were about to get some drinks. You two love birds should join us.”
         “Are you sure you should be drinking more?” He was already having a difficult time walking.
         He waved a hand at me. “I am a grown man! I know my limits.”
         I glanced at Élisabeth who had been trying to hide a yawn behind her hand. Even if I did not want to leave my friend alone in the state he was in, he claimed he could take care of himself. “I think we are done for the night,” I answered for the two of us.
         “Oh, I see.” He gave a wink. “Turning in early, are you two? Well, I will speak to you soon, I’m sure. Goodnight.”
         “Goodnight,” Élisabeth and I said in unison as we watched them walk off.
         When alone, I took my jacket from chair and draped it over Élisabeth’s shoulders. She held the neck closed.
         I glanced over my shoulder. “I am worried about Rupert,” I confessed. “Gone to drink some more? Like the man needs another drink in him.”
         “I know, but he should be old enough to take responsibility for anything that happens.”
         “He should be,” I mumbled.
         Élisabeth pecked my cheek and the action made my body wake. “There you go thinking again,” she said with a pat on my hand. “Thank you for all of this tonight. It really did make me feel better.”
         Me too.
         She opened her mouth to let out another small yawn.
         Smiling, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, my love, let’s get you home.”