From Pemberley to Manhattan [COMPLETED]

Chapter 79

17 DAYS IN PARIS

PART II

They were wandering through Marie Antoinette' Estate, in a place called the Queen's Hamlet, which had been inspired by the rustic architecture of Normandy, a small village where Marie Antoinette liked to receive guests and spend time with her family and friends.

Unlike the rest of the property, this location was practically empty, only a few tourists walking here and there, besides Darcy and Nat, who couldn't get tired of the magical charms of that part of Versailles.

They entered a windmill, then a dairy, and finally one of the small cottages. Nat and Darcy hadn't noticed yet, but the scattered people who were in those parts had left already. While they were admiring all details in a cottage, Nat blurted out, "What do you consider the weirdest thing in my century?"

Darcy didn't expect the question, but it somehow made him sad. He was eager to return to his sister, his friends, and his beloved Pemberley; yet, he didn't know how his life would be like without his new friends, the television device, the modern food, and, especially, without Miss Nathalie. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on her question. "There are so many things I consider strange in this era, I couldn't select one to name the most bizarre."

"Our bathing suits, perhaps?", Nat suggested.

"Well, even though I was initially shocked by their lack of propriety, I must admit I... grew very fond of them. Particularly when a certain lady wears them", he teased, his cheeks becoming rose for his forwardness.

"Darcy, you're making it difficult for me to being 'just friends'...", she teased back. "How about our scandalous literature?"

That made him chuckle. "Yes, that was scandalous, indeed. Still, I learned one mustn't judge other people's taste." Or lack of, he wanted to say in order to provoke Nat further, but her smile prevented him. She'd approved his answer, and that was good enough for him.

"Someone seems to be getting very accustomed to our savage ways, Darcy...", she joked, grinning.

"Perhaps I am, Miss Nathalie", he grinned back. "On the other hand, I just found out the answer to your interesting question. I believe the strangest thing in this century is how the walls can talk." Noticing the confusion in her delicate features, he explained further, "As you recall them talking in the museum last week."

The made Nat laugh to tears. She'd forgotten about that one. They'd been in the Louvre for the third time, a tour that had practically became a habit for them. It was a Sunday, so the museum was packed with people from all over the world.

When they were passing through the aisle from where one accessed the room where the Mona Lisa was kept, they ended up separated by the crowd. Nat searched for nearly half an hour before she decided to go to the museum's administration for help.

Had Darcy accepted to use a cell, that wouldn't be necessary, but he had made it clear he would never use a device created by a gentleman named after a fruit. One thing, he'd affirmed, was have an artist who'd adopted the nickname Apple. Another matter was trusting in a modern device whose inventor called himself that, and signed with a childish drawing of the fruit bitten. It was simply too absurd to be credible! She didn't have the heart to argue with him, and didn't insist further.

So, there she was, forced to ask one of the security guards to announce Nathalie Estevez Brown was expecting a Mr. Darcy in the museum administration. A few moments later, she heard the announcement, which was made in French, since Darcy spoke the language fluently, and she understood most of it (practicing in France was doing wonders to her once rusty skills).

"Mr. Darcy, this is the Louvre's administration. We'd like to inform you that Miss Nathalie Brown is with us, and she awaits you in–" The museum's employee never managed to finish his sentence, for the alarm sounded in the whole building. Nat was on alert: was it a false alarm? Was there a fire? Or, even worse, a terrorist attempt? To her relieve, but also amazement, it was neither of the above.

"Someone tried to smash a wall on the second floor!" She heard one security guard explain to the other. What sort of idiot would do something like that in the Louvre?

Nat decided to wait exactly where she was until the fuzz was over and the employee could finish the announcement. She only hoped Darcy hadn't left the museum to return to their apartment; there was much she still wanted to see.

The security guards that had been stationed outside the museum's administration returned holding a tall, handsome man, who was yelling at them in a perfect French, "Where is she? Where have you hidden her? I demand you let her go! Now!"

"Darcy?!" Why was the gentleman behaving like... a drunk? His eyes were red with terror, his mouth was contorted in fury, his whole complexion was that of a man in despair.

"Oh, Miss Nathalie! You are well!" He ran to her, getting loose from the guards, and held her so tight she had difficulty breathing. "I thought they had hurt you in the walls!"

"In the walls?!" Why was he so hysterical? Why did he think she was in the walls? And what did he mean by 'in the walls'? Was it a metaphor for something? The guards walked toward them, and Nat feared they'd arrest Darcy.

"Yes! A voice in the walls stated you were in there with them, and I feared for your life, Miss Nathalie!"

Oh. Dear. Lord. After so many weeks, after all that time, and Nat still couldn't comprehend the extent of his ignorance regarding the simplest things of the twenty-first century. She couldn't believe she'd put them in that mess only because she didn't consider that technology could scare him. Of course, it must be scary hearing the walls talk! It was hilarious as well, but she refused to laugh in a moment such as that one.

"Do you know this man?", one of the guards asked.

"Yes, this is the one I've been looking for", she answered, gloomily.

"Well, we're taking him to the police and–"

"That won't be necessary, sir." A man dressed in a tailored suit stated behind the group. He spent some moments talking in hushed tones to the guards, but Nat made out the words "crazy" and "lunatic". He then moved away, telling her and Darcy to stay put, that the Professor had sent him and he'd get things straightened out. He spoke to the Director of the Louvre for about a quarter of hour before returning to them with a tiny smile.

"You're free to go", he said. "But you shall not be welcomed here anymore." Even though Nat hated the fact she couldn't visit the Louvre again, she took no time taking Darcy out of there.

They were still laughing about the story as they left the cottage. That was when the bad surprise of the day, which had been incasing them in its dark secrets for long weeks, happened: Darcy was immobilized by four strong arms, while a hand put a piece of cloth with a strong-smelling liquid against his mouth and nose.

In a matter of seconds, Darcy was out. "Who are you? What do you want?" Nat was leaning over Darcy, trying to protect him from the men in military-like uniforms. She glanced around, looking for someone who could help, but there was no one except for the men.

"Everything shall be explained soon", one of them said simply, just before the same hand covered Nat's face with a cloth that put her to sleep as well.

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