Rebel Rose, page 21
The two of them hurried through the dark castle. Belle heard the ruckus long before they came upon it. Shouts echoed through the empty halls, amplifying the angry voices.
“I must make sure Chip is in bed where he belongs. I’ll come back as quick as I can,” whispered Mrs. Potts.
“Go.” Belle urged her away from the messy scene.
Belle came at last to the entrance hall, where guards were attempting to forcibly remove a distressed Marguerite as a calm Bastien watched on. He turned and noticed Belle’s arrival, shock alighting his features. Bastien had not anticipated that someone would come to find Belle, but he recovered quickly.
“Oh, good, now you can explain to the Mademoiselle de Lambriquet that I am only acting on your wishes.”
“Stand down,” Belle ordered. The guards hesitated for a second before obeying. Marguerite fell to her knees as soon as they removed their hands. Belle wanted to make sure she was all right, but she had bigger problems to tend to. “What is this, Bastien?”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I am only doing what you asked me to do, madame.”
“I never once asked you to banish Marguerite from the castle.”
“Perhaps not in so many words…You wanted her dealt with, and so I am dealing with her.”
“That’s preposterous. When have I ever asked—”
Bastien began to realize he had lost his grip on the situation entirely. “It would seem my reading of the situation was incorrect.” He looked over to Marguerite and offered a tight smile. “Apologies, mademoiselle, this has all been a big misunderstanding.”
Marguerite was shaken but still looked as though she could have murdered him with her bare hands, and Belle felt the same way. She was tired of the duc wielding his influence like a weapon against her. Piled atop one another, his sins could reach the top of the highest tower in the castle. There was no reason to trust him ever again, or to keep him around. How was she only just realizing it now?
She looked to the guards. “You are never to take an order from the duc de Vincennes ever again, do you understand?” She was relieved to see they nodded without hesitation this time.
“Belle, be reasonable.”
“You are not to address me unless it is to apologize for being a duplicitous ass.” For once, Bastien had nothing to say. “Your days on the advisory are over, Bastien. You never belonged on it in the first place. I don’t know what you’re playing at, or what your goal is—perhaps you only wish to sow chaos, perhaps this is all a game to you, but it doesn’t matter. You’re done playing games with the people of Aveyon.”
He opened and shut his mouth several times. She had never seen the duc at a loss for words.
“You are a guest in this castle, nothing more. You do not speak for me and you most certainly do not speak for the king, do you understand me?”
He swallowed and gave her a blank stare. “I was only doing what I thought was best for the kingdom.”
“You have no idea what’s best for Aveyon. You have never known. For all of your supposed wisdom, you have never once walked through our villages and towns; you have never spoken with the people who are the backbone of Aveyon, or the peasants, as you so blithely and exclusively refer to them. One might even think you had forgotten I too was a peasant once—if you were not continually reminding me.”
By then, a curious crowd had formed behind her. Cogsworth stepped up to where she was standing, and she winced in anticipation. Surely he was about to chastise her for so roundly insulting the duc.
“I suggest you retire to your chambers, monsieur.” It was as harsh a rebuke as the majordomo had ever delivered to an aristocrat. He turned to the rest of the assemblage. “The same goes for the rest of you. The night is late, and we all have work to attend to in the morning.”
Slowly the crowd dissipated. Bastien lingered with a look of sarcastic bewilderment on his face, like he both couldn’t believe what had happened and had anticipated it. “Belle, if you’ll just let me speak—”
“Go to bed, Bastien. You’ve done enough harm for one night.”
As he eyed her, she saw a spark of the rage that simmered beneath his carefully crafted facade. It frightened her, but she stood firm. He turned and left the entryway, his steps echoing all the way down the hall.
When they couldn’t hear him any longer, Belle sank to her knees. The confrontation had left her reeling. “What on earth have I done?”
Marguerite stared down the hall Bastien had disappeared into. “What you should have done weeks ago.” She looked over to Belle sprawled on the tile. “If he had managed to get me out of the castle, you can be sure he would have spun the story for your ears. Marguerite was called away in the night; she asked that you not worry yourself over her departure. The snake. He thought I’d believe that you wanted me removed, as if I hadn’t just rescued you from a workshop full of angry drunk men.”
“Pardon?” Cogsworth squeaked.
Belle ignored the inquiry. “Cogsworth, can you get a tea for Marguerite? She’s had a rough night.” For once, he didn’t protest being assigned a menial task. She looked back at her friend. “What made him move against you now, of all times?”
Marguerite blushed. “I may have visited his rooms on the way to mine with a mind to confront him about the lies he told about me.” She paused and looked to Belle, wincing as she did. “I hadn’t even gotten a word in edgewise before he insisted he had an urgent letter for me from Aurelian down in his office. Can you believe I bought that load of nonsense? It was all a ruse, of course.” She adjusted her rumpled gown. “The frightening thing is that it likely would have worked if not for your interference. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to get back into the castle, let alone get a letter to you. He has entirely too much control here. Or rather, he had. You did the right thing, Belle.”
Belle sighed. “It was, perhaps, a bad idea to ambush him in his rooms, though.”
“Oh, of course. But it galls me because we know each other, he and I. For all our enmity, Bastien and my brother have been lifelong friends. I don’t know why he’d do something so cruel to me over my quarrel with the comtesse.” She drew herself up and shook her head. “He’s a snake, and now everyone knows it.”
“Do they?” Belle asked. Marguerite didn’t have an answer. “I don’t regret doing it so much as I fear his retaliation.”
“What could he do? You’re the wife of the king of Aveyon, it’s not as though he can bar you from your own damn castle.” Marguerite reached a hand down and pulled Belle to her feet. “He’s shown his true colors at last, and that is your defense should anyone question your decision. He tried to speak for you; he overstepped. You should have banished him.”
“He’s the only family Lio has left. I think it was enough to neuter his influence.”
“I hope you’re right.” Marguerite tucked her unruly hair behind her ears. “I can’t promise I won’t strangle him the next time I see him, though.”
“Such is your right,” Belle replied. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I feel like everything is falling apart and there’s nothing I can do to prevent it.”
Marguerite squeezed her shoulder. “Firstly, your salon is going to be a massive success, and secondly, I don’t think you could cancel it now even if you wanted to.” Marguerite grinned. “The wheels are in motion, Belle.”
The courtyard was fuller than Belle had ever seen before. Streams of carts laden with extra butter, eggs, and flour, which Mrs. Potts had ordered to accommodate the salon’s guests, trickled in without end. Workers built temporary stalls around the edges for the merchants who had been permitted to sell goods in the makeshift market that would be open simultaneously, both to ease the burden on the castle kitchens and to provide attendees with a place to go that wasn’t the library. The rest of the castle would be off-limits. If there was any piece of advice that Belle was willing to take from Bastien, it was that the safety of those who resided within should be paramount.
She hadn’t seen the duc since the scene in the entrance hall two days before, save for glances of the back of him leaving rooms as she entered. She understood he was nursing his wounds. Belle had effectively ended whatever influence he had wielded in the castle and had half expected him to leave Aveyon entirely out of embarrassment, but it seemed for the time being he would remain, sulking and skulking around like a petulant child. She wondered if he was planning to tell Lio what had happened in hopes that his cousin would take his side. She had done her best to trust Bastien, but he had proven himself a liar time and time again. Lio would have done the same as she had in similar circumstances. Being family wasn’t reason enough to forgive someone after they betray your confidence.
Cogsworth appeared at her shoulder. “Everything is in order, madame.”
“Please, Cogsworth. Just call me Belle.”
“Of course, Belle.” He seemed to choke on her name like it was a bitter piece of fruit. “Does the king know you’ve opened the castle to commoners as well?”
“No,” Belle admitted. “I didn’t wish to burden him with anything more to deal with or worry about. It will be a surprise to him, unless, of course, he’s seen the notices in the villages. Marguerite and I haven’t slept since we received the proposals.”
“Have you made your selections?”
“Yes, though it was difficult. We had to reject some very sound ideas simply because we won’t have enough time to hear them all.”
“Well, I normally abhor surprises, but I can’t imagine that the king will have any reason to dislike this one. Had he been here, I suspect he would have been an enthusiastic participant in the planning.”
Belle smiled at him as Lumière popped up behind them.
“Is that praise, mon ami?” Lumière came up from behind and grasped Cogsworth’s shoulders. “Come, now. You can do better than that. Look around.” He gestured to the courtyard. “Have you ever seen the castle so lively? It was what we spent ten long years dreaming of.”
Belle perked up. The further they got from the curse, the less anyone who had lived under its yoke wished to discuss it. Save for Mrs. Potts, she hadn’t heard any of her friends mention it in months, and she wasn’t interested in pushing them toward the subject.
Cogsworth shook free of the maître d’hôtel. “Yes, well, we have two days before us in which everything can go horribly wrong.” His discomfort was obvious.
“Ah, that’s the Cogsworth I know and love.” Lumière departed for a group of maids he spotted across the courtyard before the majordomo could admonish him further.
Cogsworth sighed. “It’s not as if I believe anything will go horribly wrong, I just cannot abide his constant optimism.”
Belle laughed. “I rely on his optimism and your pessimism both. You balance each other out.”
He wrinkled his nose at the thought. “Yes, well, there is only one day left until the king is scheduled to return. Are you ready to explain everything to him?”
She knew he meant was she ready to tell him of everything that had happened with Bastien in addition to the inclusion of Aveyon’s commoners. “Yes.”
He nodded and didn’t prod for more confirmation. “Then I will consider that item complete.” He crossed something off his list. “I must see to the kitchens. Last I checked, Mrs. Potts was not well enough prepared for the worst-case scenario I presented her with.”
“Which was what?”
“That the attendees prefer the food that can be purchased in the courtyard over her prepared dishes.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that, Cogsworth.”
“Yes, well, we need a contingency plan for the fifty pounds of butter she ordered, should the worst happen.”
He bowed at a ninety-degree angle and walked away, careful not to turn his back on her until he was out of sight. Belle hated that he was unable to let go of the etiquette she had tried very hard to banish.
Hoofbeats clattered over the cobblestones. Belle turned, wondering who of the notable guests would be the first to arrive, and why it was they seemed in such a hurry. Her heart was not prepared to soar when she saw it was Lio riding in, a whole day early. If he was surprised to see the courtyard full of people and stalls, it didn’t register. His eyes found hers at once. His hair fell loose around his shoulders, longer than she remembered.
“Belle.”
The distance between them was great, but she heard the way he said her name nevertheless, like it was a secret only he knew.
He dismounted, and they rushed toward each other, meeting in the middle of the courtyard. Belle expected him to have questions and to launch into them right away. She did not expect him to take her in his arms in front of the crowd and press a rough kiss against her lips. His mouth tasted like the fresh mint he chewed on long journeys. Everything she had missed about him was condensed into one gesture. Standing there in Lio’s arms felt more like home than the castle ever could.
When they pulled apart, Belle saw that he looked frightened. Only then did Lio seem to realize the bustle of unusual activity in the courtyard.
He smiled congenially at his people, but Belle felt overwhelmed by his sudden appearance and uneasy demeanor. Cogsworth had been expecting word from him when he reached Livrade, which would have given Belle time to ride into Plesance to greet him and explain why the castle was full of visitors when he had been expecting a staid salon. He wasn’t supposed to arrive without warning.
Something was wrong.
He eyed the crowd that had gathered around them, cheering at the display. “What on earth is happening here? I take it this is not a welcome party?”
But Belle couldn’t find the words to explain. “Why are you back early? What’s happened?”
He pressed his mouth into a thin line. “Let’s go talk inside.”
• • •
Cogsworth almost had a stroke when he caught sight of Lio striding in through the castle doors. Belle watched a vein nearly pop out of his skull as he did his best to act naturally.
“Your Majesty, what an absolutely unexpected surprise,” he said, a current of barely controlled panic lurking beneath his duty-at-all-times manner. He looked over Lio’s shoulder to the courtyard beyond. “May I ask where your retinue can be found? There is much to attend to.”
Lio peeled his gloves off and stuffed them in his pocket. “I rode ahead; they’ll be arriving tomorrow.”
Cogsworth looked both unhinged and entirely calm, a special talent of his. “May I ask why?”
Lio touched Cogsworth’s shoulder. “Listen, we don’t have time to tell the story again and again. Could you please inform Bastien of my arrival and ask that he meet us in the throne room?”
Belle and Cogsworth froze, neither of them entirely sure how to inform Lio that Belle had all but banished his cousin from discussing matters pertaining to the kingdom. She looked over to her husband and saw hints of the fear that had kept him up at night—his skin was sallower than usual, his frame thinner. Whatever happened to make him ride all the way to Aveyon a day early couldn’t have been good. All at once, she decided she couldn’t burden him with another problem.
Cogsworth was looking between the two of them, begging for some sort of direction. Lio was distracted and didn’t notice his majordomo’s reluctance.
Belle cleared her throat. “Yes, please do, Cogsworth. And will you alert Marguerite as well?”
The name seemed to pull Lio away from his thoughts. He watched Cogsworth hurry away from them and spoke. “I don’t mean to imply—”
Belle interrupted him. “I’d trust her with my life, Lio.”
“All right.” He pulled her into an embrace that felt desperate. “I’ve missed this so much.”
She wanted to ask him a thousand questions, but questions could wait. For now she just held him in return, delighting in the feeling of having him back with her. It didn’t matter what he had to tell them, so long as they were together. They could have stood there forever, twined together and perfectly still in the midst of the chaos that had engulfed the castle, and she would have been happy.
But reality set in. “We need to go,” Lio whispered in her ear.
She nodded into his chest and let him guide her away from the sanctuary they had made for themselves. Perhaps one day it would last for longer than a few moments stolen from their real lives.
• • •
It was an advisory meeting unlike any other, with only one adviser in attendance. Belle looked around at her friends—Cogsworth, Marguerite, and Lumière—at Lio’s generals, and at Bastien, the man she had banished from that room only two days before. He seemed unwilling to meet her eye, and she wasn’t about to complain. At the very least, the two of them were ignoring their animosity for the time being. It was all she could have hoped for.
Lio stood. “I’ll get right to it. King Louis and Marie Antoinette have been removed from Versailles by force.”
The room was stunned save for the generals and Bastien, who Belle noticed were unsurprised. “How?” she asked.
“You know of the king recalling the Regiment of Flanders back to Versailles?” He paused as everyone nodded. “And of the general agitation in Paris? The unemployment, the price of bread increasing?” He waited again, but they knew all of that thanks to Bastien. “It would seem once the regiment arrived at Versailles a banquet was held, during which numerous toasts to the royal family were made and none to the nation of France. In times as fraught as these, that did not go unnoticed, nor did the fact that a lavish banquet was held in Versailles while the people of Paris starve.”
Bastien piped up. “Claims have been made that Marie Antoinette cares very little for the suffering of her people. When she was told of the price of bread reaching unattainable heights, she is said to have exclaimed that the starving peasants of Paris should eat cake instead.”
Lio nodded. “Whether that is true or not, the people of Paris furiously marched on Versailles. They were some seven thousand strong by the time they reached the palace, and led mostly by women. Commandant Lafayette followed them with his command of Gardes nationales. Louis had no choice but to accept the decrees of the National Assembly, and offered the crowd all the bread, flour, and wheat in Versailles to keep them happy.”
