Chapter Thirty-One: Unsuccessful
Three Weeks and Three Days, Paris
Erik stared down at the parchment in his hands. This wasn't bad news… no, this was devastating.
'Mon amour, Erik,
I apologize in advance for the brief content in this letter. There is very little to tell you, but what there is to tell is very important. I cannot come home for some time, no matter my own wishes. The reason is hard to explain and I do not understand it myself. Neither does Daniel, nor does Samuel – with whom I am reacquainted, by the way. I cannot wrap my head around this development. It makes no sense to me.
Simply put, my father left me everything. The estate, the business, and the land. I am in charge of it all. It is impossible to explain how daunting this is. I suppose the best thing to do is to tell you that I plan to find someone to take over the business in my stead so that I may return to you. Unfortunately, I do not know how much time this will take, so in turn, have no inclination as to when I will return to Paris. Do not worry about me, mon amour. I am safe and protected here.
Daniel has made the decision to stay here for another week, then he is to depart for another delivery. It is still strange to think that he works for me now.
I will let you know when any more happens and if/when I shall be able to come home.
Tu me manques, je t'aime,
Camillé'
_____/~~\_____
Three Weeks and Four Days, Mireval
Camillé looked up at Daniel with pleading eyes. "Is there no way you could do this for me?"
"I'm afraid not," he replied, and leaned over her, "But I promise you I will try my hardest to help you when I return."
Samuel sauntered into the study and sat down in one of the big chairs before the fireplace. Camillé stood and walked over to slump in her favorite chair beside him. He looked her over once before he laughed. Daniel narrowed his eyes at the expression on Samuel's face. Since the man had walked into this room for the reading of Camillé's father's will and hugged her like he was her best friend, he had been wary of him. He did not seem like the kind of man who only wanted to be friends with her.
"That is not a very ladylike posture," Samuel's teasing tone made her lighten up as she sat up to face him.
She levelled a playful glare at him. "And would you like to help me with the documentation of all my resources and ships, incoming and outgoing shipments and goods, and where each of my ships is now?"
He held up his hands and all three of the adults in the room laughed. "I would, but…"
"… but you're not a gentleman, are you, Beaumont?" Daniel joked with him, causing the group to laugh again.
"I am a gentleman!" he protested, sitting up straight and proud, "I just happen to be terrible at accounts."
Camillé gaped and pushed him. "You are insufferable! How can you be so terrible in accounts if you run your father's business?"
"I hire someone for it," he explained, and she scoffed, "You ought to do the same, if your complaints are any indication."
A messenger knocked on the door and peeked in. "Captain Merrick, I was told to tell you that the White Camellia is ready for departure in the harbor. All she needs is her captain."
Daniel sighed as they all stood. "Well, I suppose I must take my leave of your wonderful company," he shook Samuel's hand, "Treat her well while I am gone. If you do not, I will know," he warned, only half-joking, and he pulled Camillé into a hug. "I will miss you, love."
"I'll miss you too, Daniel," she muttered into his shoulder.
"I'll be sure to write you," he promised as he kissed her forehead, "If that charlatan of a gentleman does anything to you that you do not approve of, my blade is ready and sharpened," he whispered in promise.
She chuckled lightly as she laid her head on his chest, facing away from Samuel. "You know full well I can take care of myself."
"I know that. As I have said before, it is not you that I distrust."
"Still your twitching sword-arm," she teased as they pulled away.
Daniel Merrick, bowed to them both with a flourish and winked at Camillé as he left the room. She sighed as she sat down in her favorite chair and stared into the fireplace. Her fingers came up and she played with the ring at the end of a chain. Samuel regarded her as he sat back down on the couch. It seemed that she cherished that ring more than if it were the ring of an ex-fiancé. Unless… no, she couldn't. Captain Merrick had said that she had broken off the engagement, so that didn't make sense. Still, it was the forefront of his mind.
"You still love him, don't you?" he asked, almost unsure he had asked it until she looked up at him.
She cocked her head to the side, confused. "What do you mean?"
He leaned back on the couch and rested his arm on the back as he crossed one ankle over his knee. "You still love the good Captain."
"What gives you that idea?" she asked as she shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows, truly confused.
"The way you smile when he speaks to you and the way you hold him when he embraces you – not to mention leaning your head against his chest as you did a few minutes ago," Samuel reasoned, staring straight into the fireplace flames. "And you seem to constantly fiddle with his ring."
Camillé gaped. "I do not love Daniel. I broke off the engagement with him for that very reason."
He turned his eyes to her and looked her up and down. "You are the world's worst liar."
"I am not lying!" she protested, sitting up straighter.
"Yes, you are. You love him, whether you believe you do or not," he muttered, shaking his head as he stood up, "Whether you're lying to me or to yourself, it does not matter. You are still lying. Goodnight, Camillé."
The woman watched with her mouth wide open as he walked out of the room. She looked down at her hands and down at her promise ring. Tears began to pool in her eyes and she swallowed heavily. No. Camillé Elaine de Sauveterre did not cry. La Chatte Noire did not cry. Erik's beloved fiancée did not cry. Nonetheless, the tears came and began streaming down her face. She was so confused. There was no way for it to be possible that she still loved Daniel… was there? No, she loved Erik with all her heart and soul. Yes, she cared for Daniel, but Erik was her entire world.
And oh, was she so far away from her world. The ache in her heart was enough to tell her that, even if the distance had been unknown. She knew that she was too far away from him. It was beginning to fray the edges of her soul. Camillé was homesick, Erik-sick – she wanted to go home. But she couldn't, not yet. Not until she had found someone to take over his business. She owed at least that much to her father.
Maman came bustling in the room and froze at the sight of her. Then she sat down on the couch and opened her arms. Camillé came flying off of the armchair and into her nursemaid's arms, letting a sob escape her. She cried there for several minutes, until she was able to calm herself to speak.
"I'm s-sorry, Maman," she apologized while wiping her eyes, "I do not usually –"
"Do not dare apologize to me, young lady. You are allowed to cry, ma minette," she cooed, bringing her back into her arms and stroking her hair, "Just tell me what's wrong." Camillé nodded and sat up again, bringing the ring out from under her bodice. Maman's eyes widened. "Captain Merrick's ring? What does he have to do with –"
"That's just it."
"What?"
"It is not his ring."
Maman looked at her for a moment. "Then whose is it?"
Camillé stopped and gathered her senses, taking a deep breath before beginning her explanation of the past two years. "His name is Erik, Maman."
_____/~~\_____
One Month and Two Days, Mireval
"What I am trying to tell you, Monsieur, is that you are not going to have me for a wife. This is strictly dealing with the business."
"I'm not going to be marrying you."
"No."
"Then why am I here?"
Slam.
_____/~~\_____
One Month and Five Days, Mireval
"And you are not… part of the package?"
"No, I am not. You are simply getting the business."
"I see. Well, I bid you good-day, mademoiselle."
"What do you mean?"
"I came to you because I was under the impression you wanted me to court you."
Slam.
_____/~~\_____
One Month, One Week, and One Day, Mireval
"So you mean to give me your business?"
"Yes."
"And I cannot have you for a wife?"
"No."
"I cannot say that your offer appeals to me half as much without you. I have no need for more responsibility than I already have. I am sorry, Mademoiselle."
Slam.
_____/~~\_____
One Month, One Week, and Six Days, Mireval
"You are trying to give me a business?"
"Um… yes?"
"I apologize, but I have not the time for a business."
Slam.
_____/~~\_____
One Month, Two Weeks, Three Days, Mireval
Someone knocked on the front door.
"Are you expecting anyone today, ma minette?"
"No, we've exhausted everyone in town."
"Should I let them in?"
"Oh, why not? Feel free, Maman. I have nothing planned for today."
The nursemaid laughed weakly. A creak sounded through the house as she opened the door.
"May we come in?"
"Of course, your Grace."
The door creaked closed again. Camillé heard the sound of hard heels on the marble in the front hall.
"Bonjour, Mademoiselle de Sauveterre. It has been a while, hasn't it?"
She stood and walked towards him, her heels clicking with the few steps. He bent over and kissed her knuckles gently.
"Yes, it has, Monsieur Comte de Chagny."
"Please, Camillé, you can still call me Philippe."