Beauty Within Chapter Three

“Oh sh-I mean, oh my!” Mable quickly changed her swear into something more decent. “W-where did you come from?”

         “I came in through the door, naturally.” said the girl pleasantly, and grinned when Mable only glared at her. She was a spritely thing, around ten or eleven, with thick, chestnut colored hair that came down to her shoulders in waves. Her face was lean, with a splattering of freckles over her nose, as if she had been dusted lightly with cocoa. Her eyes were dark, laughing brown, framed with thick lashes. It was her smile that made Mable smile back; it was mischievous, but friendly. The girl bounded off of Mable’s bed and looked Mable up and down, studying her. The girl was dressed far more casually than the other people Mable had met so far, in a bulky gray sweater and black slacks. It was quite a difference from the prim Madame Cecile and the proper Monsieur Lune. The girl finished her study, and nodded, apparently liking what she saw. The smile was still on her face, and Mable began to feel less annoyed by the girl’s pertness. Obviously having a stranger in the castle didn’t bother her one bit.

         “I guess that was a dumb question. You were so quiet; I didn’t hear you come in.” Mable said, deciding that the girl intended no harm. She was probably just curious about the newcomer.

         “Yes, you were busy looking out the window. I don’t blame you, it’s a pretty view, even after the storm.” said the girl, retreating backwards to jump back to her spot on the bed. Mable went and sat next to her, amused now. The girl had the most adorable accent. She puffed herself up importantly. “It was my idea to put you in this room.”

         Mable laughed. “It was, huh? Well, thank you for your hospitality. I love the view, too.” The girl grinned again, pleased by Mable’s compliment.

         “My name’s Madeleine, but you can call me Maddy. Everyone does.” She said sweetly. Mable grinned back.

         “My name’s Mable. Mable Lawrence. So Maddy, who do you belong to?” asked Mable, and started to feel alarmed when the girl merely frowned in confusion. Surely her parents worked in the castle?

         “Belong to? What does that mean?” the girl cocked her head, and Mable felt relief wash over her. If the girl had no parents or something like that, Mable would feel terrible for bringing something that traumatizing up. She knew that things like orphans finding their way into your bedroom was a bit strange, but then, what wasn’t strange around here?

         “I meant who are your parents? Do they work in this castle?” How many castles were there around here anyway?

         The girl’s smile returned, bright and innocent in her thin face. “Oh. My papa works as head of the male servants. You met him last night. Monsieur Lune.” Mable blinked in surprise.

         “Monsieur Lune is your father?” It wasn’t really that strange of an idea, Mable thought. He had looked old enough to be a father, and he did have a sort of parental air about him. Now that she looked closer, she saw that they looked vaguely similar, though she had not really been paying any attention last night.

         “Yes, he said there was someone new in the castle, so I came to find you this morning. Is that alright?” Maddy looked at her in concern, misjudging Mable’s expression as annoyed.

         “O-of course it’s alright. I was just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t have a chance to get acquainted with your father last night. I was actually just wondering where I could go find me some breakfast.” Mable hastened to find something to reassure the girl, and the talk of food did the trick. Maddy jumped off the bed enthusiastically, grabbing Mable’s sleeve.

         “Oh, I know where you can find something. It’s almost time for lunch, you know, but I’m sure the cooks will give you whatever you want. It has been a long while since we’ve had a guest. They’ll want to make sure you are extra comfortable. Come on, I’ll show you!” The girl towed Mable towards the door.

         “Wait a minute; I just need to brush my hair.” Mable laughed. Maddy released her sleeve and watched as Mable explored the vanity table.

         It was a lovely piece of furniture, but Mable was once again greeted with a ghastly view of herself in the mirror. Sighing, she picked up the silver hairbrush, running her thumb along the engravings on the handle. It was pretty, with flowers indented into the silver, and she felt soothed as she ran it through her damp hair. After she had finished she looked through the jars and drawers for hair ties, planning on putting her hair up in a ponytail to get it out of her eyes. The jars held various make-ups, none of which Mable knew how to apply. The drawers held combs, ribbons, some more make-up, and a pair of silk, white gloves that seemed out of place to Mable. There were no hair ties to be found, though, and Mable slammed the drawer shut in annoyance.

         “What is the matter?” asked Maddy, bouncing impatiently on her heels. She had observed Mable root through the drawers silently, clearly understanding Mable’s need to investigate her new surroundings more thoroughly.

         “Oh, I just can’t find anything to put my hair up. I just need an elastic band or something useful!” Mable threw up her hands in dismay, well aware that she was worrying about something completely trivial. She had so many larger problems to deal with; it was just easier to push all her frustration onto something meaningless.

         Maddy cocked her head curiously, ignoring Mable’s small outburst. “Why would you want to put your hair up? It looks so much prettier when it’s down.” Despite her objections, Maddy went over to a drawer and pulled out a ribbon, motioning for Mable to sit on the stout, padded chair in front of the vanity table. When Mable obeyed, Maddy started to braid Mable’s hair.

         “It’s just easier to keep it up,” said Mable, calming down a bit. It was odd having someone younger braid it, since the last time someone had braided Mable’s hair for her was Colette. It had been Colette who had told Mable she looked better with her hair up in the first place. Maddy did not seem as sure, which made the situation even weirder.

         “Well, I suppose that’s true, especially if I’m going to show you around the castle today. There, all done!” Maddy beamed at her. Mable turned to look at herself in the mirror, slightly suspicious. Colette would have that same grin when she messed up Mable’s hair.

         Mable smiled when she saw that Maddy had not done any damage. But then, Colette had always teased her, so it was probably unkind of Mable to be suspicious of a little girl. Mable felt the tugging on her sleeve again, and laughed.

         “Okay, I’m coming. You did a good job, better than me, at least. I’ve never been good at braiding” Mable said, letting Maddy finally pull her out the door.

         “Oh, I’ve done it lots of times. Papa has never been good with hair.” Maddy laughed affectionately, and Mable began to feel charmed by the girl. She was certainly a lot sweeter than Colette had ever been.

         Maddy dragged Mable out into the corridor, stopping only to let Mable close the door. Satisfied that Mable was not going to linger anymore, Maddy released Mable’s arm and walked in front of her, silent, and watching Mable’s face as she looked around. The corridors were simple enough, with gleaming marble walls like in the foyer, and thick, crimson carpets leading down each corridor. Flickering gilded lamps, simple in their beauty, were lining the walls on both sides. They were brighter than the night before, or perhaps Mable was just more awake. Paintings were placed lovingly in well-chosen areas, pictures of forests and gardens so well drawn it was like looking through a window. Mable had to be pulled constantly by Maddy whenever she came upon a new one, since she just had to stop and look.

         “Come on, you can look at those later! I thought you were hungry.” said Maddy impatiently, towing Mable away from yet another painting, this one a lovely picture of a rose garden.

         “I know, but they are just so beautiful. Do you know who painted these?” Mable asked Maddy, turning her head to get one last look at the painting before Maddy pushed her around a corner.

         “I know it was Master Theo’s mother, but I don’t remember her name. Her work is all over the castle, you can see more once you’ve had breakfast.”  Maddy chuckled when Mable’s stomach grumbled. “It sounds like you really need it.”

         Mable was prodded through another hallway, which eventually opened up onto a long, marble staircase. Maddy clambered down the stairs, still keeping a firm grip on Mable’s arm. It was probably a good thing, because by now Mable was completely lost. She couldn’t remember a lot from last night, but she was pretty sure that she had not gone up this many stairs before. Anxious, she tried to remember what floor she had been on. She was up rather high, so possibly the fifth floor, or sixth, but she didn’t remember it taking this long to get from the first floor to wherever she was staying.

         “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Mable finally asked her guide, as she was shoved through another set of hallways.

         “Of course! In fact, we’re taking a short cut!” cried Maddy joyfully, and pushed Mable around another corner. Mable groaned.

         “A short cut? Are you sure?”

         “I’m sure, don’t worry.” Maddy turned herself around to smile reassuringly at Mable. “I’ve lived here my whole life; I know all the ways through the castle.”

         They continued their way through the halls, and down one more flight of stairs. It seemed to Mable that it took longer to take the shortcut than the regular way, but perhaps she had not correctly measured the amount of time it had taken last night. She had been half-asleep, after all. Mable was led through a couple more hallways, some with paintings on the walls and some with tables that held vases filled with heavily-scented flowers. It was the flowers that made Mable think of something peculiar.

         “Maddy, your dad is the head of the male servants, right? How come there isn’t anyone out here cleaning, or something? There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.” Mable was starting to panic again.

         “Oh, they all have different assignments. They usually start with the top floors and work their way down, but Papa told them to stay out of sight until you were up. He thought you might get upset, see, because you are still getting used to this place. He thought too many new people gawking at you would only disturb you, and we want you to feel as relaxed as possible.” Maddy gave Mable a proud smile. “He chose me to come get you because he knew I’d get you to the kitchens faster than anyone else. The servants will get to work when you are eating, and then I can go around and introduce you to everyone.” Mable wasn’t really sure what to say to that.

         Maddy started to gain speed as they reached another set of hallways and stairs, Mable still being pulled like she was a beloved, oversized doll. She could still see marvelous paintings and art, and smell the fresh sprays of flowers that filled their scent in every hall. The lack of people had been properly explained, but it still made her nervous. Why would they stop working because she might be distressed?  She had never been treated so graciously before, and it was making her a bit suspicious. It was one thing to offer a lost, frozen woman a place to stay during a storm, but to stop all activity because she might get upset seemed a little over-enthusiastic. Especially since she didn’t even know anyone here. She barely knew Monsieur Lune and Madame Cecile, and had only just met Maddy. Why were these people treating her so kindly? There had to be an ulterior motive, but as she was being dragged along, Mable could not think of anything that would interest these people. They were living in a castle. She didn’t have any money on her, and she didn’t even know where she was, let alone where her car or anything else of value was. Mable counted out sexual reasons. Even if they did abuse lost, helpless women, they wouldn’t want someone as ordinary as her. Besides, even if she hadn’t known them for long, they still didn’t seem like the types to do something that repulsive.

It was useless. No matter how much she thought about it, these people didn’t seem to be dangerous at all. In fact, despite only meeting a couple of people, she was finding this place rather charming, and certainly extraordinary. Perhaps it was just as Maddy had said. It had been a long while since they had guest, and they were simply exuberant when it came to treating that guest. Mable remembered all the times when her sisters came to visit, like Jean and her daughters. Mable had been exactly the same, doing everything for her sister and nieces so they would be a comfortable as possible. It wasn’t ill-intent; just Mable showing her sisters that she was happy that they were with her again. It was the same here, with the servants giving her space so she could be at ease.  Could she truly fault the staff for that?

“We’re here!” chirped Maddy. Mable shook herself out of her reverie, realizing that they had come to a large, oak door without her even noticing. Mable caught a quick glimpse of the gold nameplate on the door, which read Kitchens in romantic, swooping letters. That was all the study Maddy let her do, before shoving open the door. Immediately Mable smelled something marvelous, making her mouth water and her stomach gave a high pitched gurgle. Hot air hit her in the face, and shouts rang in her ears when the two of them entered the kitchen.

“Maddy, my darling! You have already come down for a snack? It has not even been an hour since you last ate!” A voice boomed from beyond the door. Mable watched as Maddy squealed and was thrown high in the air by a tall, bulky man in a stained apron. Behind his girth, Mable could see the rest of the kitchen through the smoke that filled the room. The kitchen was huge, as she had expected, filled with gleaming counters and great, muscular ovens that made Mable’s oven look like a pretentious microwave. There were several stoves, already covered with pans and pots bubbling deliciously and sending thick, creamy scents up into the air. Mable counted about four men and two women working industriously at the stoves and counters, stirring, frying or rolling various foods. All the while they were talking with their neighbors over the crackling of the flames that came from a gigantic, brick fireplace across the room. Mable was highly impressed by the amount of concentration they managed to put into their work, and the amount of energy they managed to put into their conversations. She certainly couldn’t do three or four things at once and still talk to someone, but she saw many of these people doing just that. It was incredible. She was so busy watching that she hadn’t even noticed that everyone had stopped what they were doing and were staring at her.

“Bon Dieu! Must I keep my eyes on you every second? Is a woman so rare you cannot work; you must ogle at her like animals? Dinner is in a few hours, do you expect it to cook itself?  Back to work, maintenant!” blasted the man holding Maddy. At the sound of his voice, the staff immediately jumped back to what they were doing, and Mable found herself being ushered gently over to a small table in the corner of the kitchen.

“Oh, pardon, my dear lady. I am terribly sorry about that. We rarely get guests in the kitchen. I apologize for their lack of manners. Come, sit down, you must be hungry. What can I get you?” the man pulled out a chair for Mable, who promptly sat like she had been told. Maddy clambered over to the other side of the table, grinning at Mable’s expression.

“Um, well, I…” Mable was still trying to think properly, because now she had a closer look at the man. He was tall, so tall it put a crick in her neck to look up at him. His face was lean and honest, with bright, blue eyes that complemented his cheery expression.  He had a head of flour-streaked, blonde hair that was cut mercilessly short and far back from his eyes. He had high cheekbones and a sharp, beak-like nose that was a bit crooked, making Mable wonder if he had ever been in a fight. His mouth was full and subtly curved at the sides, which made him look like he was smiling, even though at that particular moment he was glaring at one of the slower chefs. Mable simply had trouble believing that this tall, thin man had shouted with that booming voice. She had no choice in the matter, though, when the man turned to bellow heartily at a female chef.

“Margot, make sure you put plenty of onions in that soup. You know how Lord Theo likes it! And stir more vigorously, woman, what do you want to do, burn it? When you have finished with that, take some of the leftover stew to the training barracks, for their lunch!” The woman grinned cheerily, not the least bit intimidated, and did as she was told. The man turned back to Mable, a genuine smile on his face, and said in a quieter tone, “Apologies, my lady. We are quite busy, I’m afraid. Weather like this, everyone wants something warm in their bellies, no? Now, have you thought of something you wanted to eat?”

“Give her some of that oatmeal from this morning, it was real good. Oh! One of those jelly rolls that you made, they were great, too.” piped Maddy, before Mable could say a word. Mable was not angry at the girl, especially since the idea of a meal was already making her mouth water.  The man, however, frowned at Maddy reproachfully.

“It seems my cooks are not the only ones to forget their manners in front of a lady. Let the poor thing speak for herself, Maddy.” Maddy sighed and slouched back in her chair, looking more amused than apologetic. Mable couldn’t help but smile; the girl had obviously encountered this scolding before.

“Actually,” Mable said, “that sounds wonderful. Could I also get some juice to go with that? Please?” She was rewarded with a beaming smile from both Maddy and the man.

“Of course, my lady, whatever you wish. Wait just one moment please.” The man bent over her hand, kissed it, and then sauntered away. 

“Um, Maddy, just who was that?” Mable pressed hands to her burning cheeks. She had never been treated like that, and wasn’t really sure how much she liked it.

“He was the head chef, Monsieur Carnier. He’s really nice, and everyone knows he never means it when he yells. He just does it so he can be heard over all the talking. Though he didn’t have to scold me like that,” Maddy pouted. “I was only trying to help.”

“I appreciate it.” Mable said, smiling at the girl, and felt something squeeze her heart when Maddy perked up at the compliment. The girl seemed to be doing so much in order to help Mable feel welcome, and it clearly pleased her to know she was doing something right. Mable settled herself more comfortably in her chair, resigned. She just had to accept this special treatment she was getting, though she had to admit she was starting to like it. It wasn’t often she was treated like royalty.

It wasn’t long before a large glass of juice was brought to her, a vivid, crimson drink that Mable had never seen before. While she was still wondering about that, a bowl of oatmeal was placed in front of her, along with cinnamon, honey, and a small bowl of dried fruit.

“There you are, my lady. Please eat as much as you like, there is plenty more.” Monsieur Carnier said pleasantly, half-yelling to be heard over the noise.

“Oh, thanks Monsieur Cor-Carnier.” Mable’s tongue tripped over the name briefly. “By the way, I’m Mable Lawrence. You don’t have to keep calling me ‘lady’.”

Monsieur Carnier’s frowned in confusion for a moment, and Mable was unsure if he had heard her or not. But then he grinned, a wonderful, charming grin, and nodded. He bent down again, and before Mable could protest, kissed her hand. Mable felt her cheeks burn. It was going to take her a long while to get used to this kind of treatment.

“Whatever you wish, Lady Mable.” Monsieur Carnier bowed elegantly to her, gave Maddy’s hair a quick ruffle, and trotted away.

“That was not what I meant.” Mable grumbled. She picked up a small spoonful of the oatmeal, and gingerly took a bite. It was a little bland, but warm and quite tasty. Experimentally she added a bit of honey and took another taste. This time it tasted more flavorful, and Mable’s stomach gave another gurgle.

“Try putting in some of the fruit; that will fill you right up” Maddy suggested, grabbing a handful of fruit from the bowl. Mable did as advised and was rewarded with a new kind of oatmeal that tasted delicious.

Maddy chomped happily on the fruit she had managed to save, and chattered pleasantly with the staff while Mable gulped down her breakfast. She experimented with more honey, some cinnamon, and loaded the oatmeal with more fruit, and was quite pleased with the results. The oatmeal did indeed “fill her right up” and the grumbling from her stomach slowly ceased. Mable took a quick drink of the juice in her glass, to wash out the heavy taste of the oatmeal. She was pleasantly surprised when the drink turned out to be quite scrumptious, even if it wasn’t a kind she had ever had before. Her tongue detected bits of strawberry and cherry, but it also had a certain flavor that she couldn’t indentify, which only made it better.

Soon both the bowl of oatmeal and the glass of juice were gone, leaving Mable feeling full and quite re-energized. She leaned back in her chair, and watched as Maddy traded friendly insults with one of the male chefs. They went back and forth for some time before Monsieur Carnier bellowed for the man to get his work done. Maddy turned to Mable as the man raced off.

“All done? Do you want some more, or would you like the tour of the castle?” Maddy eagerly bounced out of her seat, and took hold of Mable’s arm.

“Well, I really ought to get home now. My family is probably worried sick about me.” Mable felt guilt coil in inside her when Maddy’s smile faded. She would have liked a tour, to have a chance to wander around a huge, hidden castle freely. How many people had that experience? But her father’s face was in her mind’s eye. She couldn’t leave him alone; eventually Miss Carol had to leave, and then what would happen? She couldn’t even imagine how her sisters would feel if they learned that she had disappeared.  Right now, the most important thing was getting home and letting them know she was safe.

Still, it nearly broke her heart to see Maddy, who had been so nice to her, look so sad to see her leave.

“M-maybe I can come back! Yeah, I swear I’ll come back and visit.” Mable said in a rush, desperately trying anything to get the girl to cheer up. Mable’s heart was given a harsh squeeze when Maddy continued to look disappointed.

“I don’t think you can come back…”Maddy said slowly, her face turning pale. She was starting to look a little sick. Alarmed now, Mable quickly pushed the girl back into her chair, and yelled at someone to bring some water. Crouching in front of her, Mable held her hand to the girl’s forehead, just like her father used to do when one of her sisters got sick. The girl was warm, but that was probably from being in the steamy kitchen for so long. Maybe the heat was making her queasy?

A glass was water was shoved into her hands, and she gently held it to Maddy’s lips.

“Drink slowly.” Mable ordered, and held the back of Maddy’s head while she drank, just as her father had done.  Maddy’s face slowly started to return in color, but there was a panicked look in her eyes that had not gone away yet. Mable frowned. The look had appeared when…

She had told Mable that she could not come back. What had that meant?

“Maddy, are you all right?” Monsieur Carnier crouched next to Mable, and she noticed that the whole kitchens staff had stopped what they were doing again, and were looking at Maddy worriedly. Monsieur Carnier placed his hand on Maddy’s cheek and started to speak softly in French. Mable eased back, a little wary now. She only spoke a bit of high school French, and it wasn’t close enough to catch what he was saying. If he needed Mable to do something fast and didn’t speak English, Mable wouldn’t be able to help. That made her very nervous. She also felt really guilty now; Maddy had started to lose it when she was speaking to Mable.

What had she meant, saying that Mable couldn’t come back?

Mable backed up enough so Maddy could have some air, but was pinned in her place when Monsieur Carnier’s bright, blue eyes turned to look at her. For a minute it looked like he was going to say something, but then Maddy took both of his hands and started speaking to him, also in perfect French. They spoke softly together, occasionally looking at Mable in a way that made her even more anxious than before. What were they saying?

After a couple of minutes, Monsieur Carnier barked an order in French, one that made both the surrounding chefs and Mable jump. Instantly the kitchen returned back to normal, the last couple of minutes forgotten as the men and women went back to their work.

“I’m sorry, Mable. I just felt kind of sick for a minute” Maddy said. Thankfully, she had gone back to speaking English. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She smiled at Mable reassuringly, her face now back to its normal color and her eyes calm. Mable had the oddest feeling that she was hiding something from her, but right now she was too relieved to care.

“That’s okay. I’m just glad you’re all right. What happened, did you eat too fast?” Mable thought about asking if there was something wrong with the fruit, but decided against it. Not with the way Monsieur Carnier was looking at her. He had turned away from Maddy and was staring at Mable piercingly, his eyes never leaving her face. It was making her edgy, mostly because it wasn’t like before. His eyes were not smiling, and he looked like he was speculating about her, judging her. It was unnerving and a little annoying too. What had she said or done that merited him looking at her like that? Irritated, Mable stared right back.

“You’re right Mable, I probably ate too fast. I’m all better, really.” This last statement Maddy directed at Monsieur Carnier. Mable tore her eyes away from Monsieur Carnier’s.

“Well, I’m very glad. I know it’s unfair, but I really do have to leave. My father’s probably worried sick about me right now.” Monsieur Carnier and Maddy looked surprised at that remark.

Y-your father may be worried?” Maddy repeated, exchanging a troubled glance with Monsieur Carnier.

Mable ground her teeth together, trying to control her temper. “Yes, he’s probably really upset.” Of course, she had no way of knowing if that was true. Her father had trouble remembering the simplest things, and he probably didn’t even know Mable was missing. But there was no need for these people to know that.

“So,” Mable continued, looking straight at Monsieur Carnier, “if there is any way I can get back my stuff- you know, my clothes and my cell-then I would really like to just leave as soon as I can. Before dark, if possible.” Mable’s temper sharpened a bit more when Monsieur Carnier looked confused. Didn’t they understand how urgent this was? She really needed to get home, and let her sisters and father know that she was still alive. Even if her father had forgotten she had gone out, it was still her responsibility to take care of him. She felt bad for leaving after such a friendly welcome, and it hurt to see Maddy look so disappointed, but she had other duties, none which involved this place or its residents!

“I am afraid we have a problem, Lady Mable.” said Monsieur Carnier tentatively. If Mable hadn’t been in such a rush, or in such a bad temper, she would have found his expression rather amusing. He looked almost afraid of her. He almost fell on his behind, in an effort to scramble away, when she whipped her head around to face him.

“Why is it a problem? Look, even if you don’t have my stuff, I don’t care. I can always come back for it,” I don’t think you can come back. It didn’t matter what that statement had meant, she could always replace whatever she had left here anyway. “But if I could just borrow some clothes, or at least a jacket, then that would be fine. I can find my way back, if someone just points out the direction to the road. Please,” Mable softened her voice, and Monsieur Carnier relaxed a bit. “I need to get home.”

Monsieur Carnier stood up and cleared his throat, looking miserable. “I am terribly, terribly sorry my lady, but you see-“at this he went over to a door on the opposite end of the kitchen and wrenched it open. “It is impossible for you to go home in this weather.”

Mable stood up at the sound of the screaming wind and went over to the door. She groaned when she saw that it had started to snow again, and she couldn’t see an inch past the cold, white curtain that led to the only way home.