Eighth Meeting
1596 Words
The steamer docked in Paris the next morning. Much to Genevieve’s disappointment the sky was grey with clouds and it was cold which was a lot like the country she had left behind.
“I am sure it will brighten up,” Lucian said as they waited to leave the steamer.
Genevieve had given up wondering how he knew everything she was thinking. It must be part of them knowing each other well.
French people looked a lot like English people was what first observed when she finally stepped onto French soil.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I have arranged for us to stay in a small house with a maid. Yes, we will not be sharing a room again,” he explained. “We will get there first, unpack and find an attraction to visit.”
Genevieve liked the sound of that, but it would be odd to sleep alone again after spending over a week sharing a room with a demon. She was still holding his hand by habit even though they were on solid ground now and she wasn’t seasick.
Fortunately Lucian hadn’t commented on it so she kept hold of his warm hand.
They got into the next carriage to arrive with their trunks and Genevieve spent most of the journey looking out the window at the different buildings and streets. It was fascinating to see all the varying architecture and experience different scents.
“You aren’t paying any attention to me,” Lucian commented eventually. “I am hurt.”
“I can talk to you when we get there,” she said without moving her gaze from the window.
The carriage came to a stop a few minutes later outside a yellow painted house with several floors and charming blue painted window shutters. The upper floors were covered with ivy and it looked charmingly quaint to her.
“What do you think?” he enquired. “I thought you would like it.”
It was very different to her solid stone manor house that had been lived in for several generations of her family. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her home, she just had a longing for something more exotic.
“I do like it,” she assured him.
“How much French do you speak?” he asked.
Genevieve had been taught French by one of her governesses a few years before meeting Lucian which had probably sown the seeds for a desire to visit Paris, but she had a feeling the demon had asked for a specific reason.
“A little. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” he said innocently.
***
Her bedroom was pleasantly decorated with yellow floral wallpaper and the occasional painting. It was a lot larger than her own bedroom in England, but that was mainly because she had never taken over her mother’s bedroom and this one was intended for the lady of the house.
The view out the window showed the beauty of the city and she spent a moment lost in it.
“Did you want a tour of the rest of the house?” Lucian asked from the doorway.
Genevieve collected herself and stepped away from the window.
“I am coming.”
The house was well sized for just two of them and a maid. Genevieve refused a tour of his bedroom as that was not ladylike.
“The maid said she would serve us a light lunch,” Lucian told her after they visited the kitchen.
“I understood that much,” she replied sourly.
He glanced at her and seemed to understand that she was not in the mood for anything less than straightforward conversation.
“Where would you like to go this afternoon?” he changed the subject quickly.
Genevieve took a glance out the window in the hallway. She couldn’t see much around apart from other houses. It was a little disappointing.
“Somewhere close by that is very classically French,” she suggested. “Do you know this area?”
Lucian shook his head.
“I picked this quarter mainly because there aren’t any demons here. I will leave and check out the area for you.”
Genevieve nodded in agreement. It was for the best that he had chosen an area where she wouldn’t run into a demon. She didn’t know if she was ready to encounter another demon.
The French maid was a very talkative middle aged woman called Estelle who appeared to be very keen on Lucian.
“Where did your husband go?” was the first thing she asked when she walked into the dining room.
“...He went out to find somewhere to go this afternoon,” Genevieve answered hesitantly.
The maid’s French was very fast and voluble so she was having trouble keeping up.
“Ah,” Estelle replied with a grin on her face. “He is finding somewhere romantic to go. He is very attentive. I wish my husband had been like that- he was an alcoholic instead.”
“He is too attentive,” Genevieve replied testily.
Estelle gave her a knowing glance.
“I see. Most ladies like that you know.”
Genevieve felt herself blushing for some reason. She knew most women would love to have a husband like Lucian, but she knew he was a demon and he was only with her because of the contract.
It wasn’t fair.
Where had that thought come from?
She frowned. It seemed like the long journey and sea sickness had caught up with her mind. A light nap after lunch might be what she needed.
Her maid interpreted her worried look differently.
“You are missing him already? Are you newly married?”
Genevieve coughed in embarrassment.
“No. We married a year ago.”
For once she was glad Lucian was not around. He would have been delighted by the maid’s comment. The maid started telling her all about her former husband and the man she would want to marry. By the end of lunch Genevieve hadn’t eaten much, but she did know how lucky she was to have married Lucian instead of some ugly Englishman.
Genevieve had the slightest feeling that Estelle’s former husband had been English.
After finishing she rose from the table and realised Lucian was standing in the doorway.
“How long have you been there?” she asked with a start.
He shrugged. “Not very long. So, you are very fortunate to have an attractive husband and why haven’t we managed to have any children in the year we have been married?”
The demon had definitely been listening in for at least a few minutes,
“So you have been sneaking around for a while,” she said with an eyebrow raise. “Did you even go out?”
Lucian looked hurt by her accusation.
“Of course, I do anything you ask me. I have found somewhere exciting for us to visit. You should recognise it as well from all that reading you did.”
Genevieve felt the stirring of anticipation in her chest. She didn’t feel as tired anymore.
“Really?”
“I would not lie about it,” he assured her. “Just wait and see.”
***
Genevieve was in a mixed mood and Lucian could tell. She had become very easy to read in the past year.
He had an educated guess that the frown on her face as she looked out the carriage window was from her desire to ask him where they were going. But she wasn’t asking because she knew he wouldn’t tell her.
Her quick glances out the window also meant that she was feeling excited about the mystery surrounding where they were going.
He folded his arms and smiled in satisfaction.
Lucian knew she would like where they were going.
By now the sun was starting to set and the orange light was shining off the cobblestone streets in a very pretty way. Paris was very attractive at the moment and he could see why she wanted to go.
Paris had been a very different place the last time he had been there given that it had been a time when the nobility and royals had been hated. All the demons had managed to survive and a lot had gone to the countryside until the revolution had finished.
Lucian had elected to go to England when the first signs of the revolution started rising and was happy with that decision.
The carriage halted and Genevieve gasped when she saw where they were.
“Are we really at the Eiffel Tower?” she demanded.
Lucian preened and smiled smoothly at her.
“Of course.”
He alighted from the carriage first and opened her door for her. Genevieve stepped smoothly out with her gaze fixed upon the tower.
“It’s beautiful.”
She grabbed his hand and started to lead the way.
The setting sun gave her face such a beautiful radiance that Lucian found himself stunned by it and his heart jumped in a strange way.
Then he realised what had just happened.
He had fallen in love with Genevieve.
What was worse was that he probably had been in love with her for a long time.
- Writer
