Visiting Helene/Books for Louise

Another tiresome day at work. The job was truly an insult to her intelligence. Helene crossed her arms tightly around herself as she walked the many blocks home, hands tucked under her arms for warmth. It was a chilly night.

She unlocked her door and opened it, looking forward to the tantalizing image of her bed after getting something to eat and working with Louise. Her jaw dropped open when she swung back the door to see Armand seated inside, in deep conversation* by candlelight with little Louise.

He was up on his feet when he saw his friend, grinning broadly. "Hélène!" He exclaimed, and hugged her, warmly. "Finally! It's been hours! Literally," He added with a grin at Louise.

"Armand!" she cried out, the French coming easily and welcome after speaking so much English. She even tried to speak English at home so that Louise would learn better, but seeing her old friend somehow demanded that she speak in her native tongue. "I'm so glad to see you!" The two embraced warmly. "But how long have you been waiting? Mon dieu! I told you to tell me before you came, Armand," she scolded. "I could have tried to get some time off work so that you could visit at a sane hour. Or you could have come in the morning before I go."

"Well I..." He shrugged, sheepishly. "You know me, Hélène... I love to complicate things. Besides, I promised I would come soon, and it's been a few days already. And Louise and I have had a good long discussion on... well, it seems on life in general."

She frowned at him in mock indignation. "But come, join us for supper. It isn't much, but...'Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.'"

He smiled at the warm comment. "I'd love to, Hélène," He said, sitting down next to Louise.

She finished the quotation with a shrug as she went to retrieve a loaf of bread. They had some cheese to go with it, and today even a small quantity of meat that Helene had purchased the day before. She did not mind restricting herself to bread and cheese or even bread and water; it was a fare she was used to from her poorer days in Paris. But she worried for Louise's health.

She was glad now she had bought the meat. She would have like to make a stew of it, but vegetables were far too expensive, so instead she set about just preparing it with some salt while continuing to talk to Armand. She was not a good cook, but could make simple, straightforward dishes, and was soon serving Armand and Louise decent platefuls of food. As for her, she restricted herself to bread and cheese for the night, as there was only a small amount of the meat.

"This is very good," Armand said, eating slowly. And it was.

"Thank you." Helene flashed him an appreciative smile before continuing the conversation. "So, Armand," she began, "How have you been? I know we have just seen you recently, but it seems forever."

“I know how you feel, mon amie," Armand sighed, thinking of how much he had missed Axelia when he was in France. "I have been well. The Prince of Wales came for dinner last night. It seemed a little awkward. Especially when I mentioned that there was French Agent here. He seems to have made it his sick hobby of stalking one of my friends." He gave a digusted sigh as he took a bite of bread.

Helene's stomach twisted suddenly, and she frowned at her friend. "A French agent? How do you know?"

"He's been following Axelia for a year now. Besides, they all dress somewhat the same. And there's that sash...." Armand remembered his encounter in Percy's rose garden and the chilling note that had been left at Axelia's door....

Helene looked up quickly. Was it a coincidence? She had marked the unusual beauty of the name of the woman who had helped her find her way home the other night..."Did you say Axelia?" she asked Armand, forestalling his next thought. "Is her last name Mulheim? From France?"

Startled, Armand looked over at his friend. "Y-yes, it's Mulheim. Axelia Mulheim. You have met her? She did not say anything about meeting you..." He shook his head. 'Idiot. Naturally she would not have, when you made her so uncomfortable today. And she didn't even know Hélène was your friend,' He though, derisively.

Helene smiled. "Yes, I think so. A pretty, red-haired girl, right? She gave me directions home last night--I'm afraid I have no sense of direction." Eyes sparkling, she teased, "My, you have even made friends here in England quickly. Or is Axelia someone...more special?" His tone of voice had implied that she was.

A crimson blush crept up his neck, making his ears burn. He wasn't embarressed, no... it was something else.

"Yes, I guess you could say that... someone... a little more special than... well, never mind that. I've known Axelia for a while now, and I..." Armand smiled weakly at Hélène. "Don't antagonize me like that, ma chéri."

Hélène grinned wickedly as Armand's face turned a sanguine shade of scarlet. Her innate inclinations in debate made her want to pounce playfully on his discomfort. "Oh no?" Her dark eyes looked at him reproachfully as her face took on an expression of mock seriousness. "I'm afraid that's my job, mon ami. After all, what are friends for?" Her expression softened into a relaxed smile. "Mais avec sérieux, Armand--I'm so happy for you. Mlle. Mulheim seemed a very sweet girl." As Hélène recalled her conversation with Axelia, she wondered about the other woman's diffidence, but kept the thought to herself--it was really none of her business to ask Armand what he might or might not know. Besides, Axelia might just have been shy. A young girl in a foreign land--just like you, yourself, she reminded herself.

While they conversed, she wondered how the evening would play out--Louise would not be tired yet, so would not want to go to bed, but Hélène need some time to discuss a few things seriously with Armand. Perhaps she could just settle the little girl with some drawing paper or her studies for a while so she and the Frenchman could talk...

Armand nodded vigorously. "very sweet," he whispered. Then he yawned. "Sorry," He said, turning. Then: "So how has your tutoring with Lousie been going? If you need any help..." He made a waving gesture. "I'm sure Percy could help, too. He was tutored personally, as well, on his father's ship whne he was a boy."

Even if she had needed help, she would not have asked it--especially not from a man who had given her so much already. "Thank you, but I'm sure I know enough to give Louise at least a decent education. I'd like to send her to school though, later, if--" She stopped. The "if" was if she could earn more money. And this tied right back into what she had to talk to Armand about...she had to get out of this debt (even if it was a self-imposed debt), and she had to get her brother over to England--not only for her concern for his safety and for her own peace of mind, but so that she and Louise could have some type of a decent lifestyle. Jacques, as a man, would be able to get work far more easily than she had been able to.

Armand cocked his head at her. "If you don't mind my saying so, Hélène, I... I don't think that money is any problem. Percy could burn money to heat his home and still have enough to last a few lifetimes." He gave a wry smile. "If you need anything... at all, just tell me. I will speak with Percy. He's a good man- strong, loyal... he gives without a thought of reward."

Helene felt frustrated. Couldn't Armand see? That wasn't it, not at all. "I know, Armand. It is not that I worry about bankrupting him." Even as she said it the idea sounded ludicrous--bankrupt an aristocrat? "It is--a matter of dignity. Sir Percy may give without thought of reward, but I have no right to take without giving back. If I live off someone else's income, then I am as bad as Louis XVI when he overtaxed the people and lived in luxury off their incomes. It's not right." The analogy was not very good, but it was all she could think of at the moment, and it was something Armand could understand. "Besides, expecting someone else to provide for me and just taking and taking from him is the attitude of a leech or a parasite. I can't live that kind of life, Armand." She softened her serious words with a smile. "I suppose I have always been too proud. And too stubborn."

He understood what she was trying to say. "I... I'm not saying live off Percy." He blushed--That was what HE was doing. "I'm just saying you can let him help you until you don't need it anymore. And if you don't need his help anymore, then that is fine."<

As they finished their dinner she glanced toward Louise. "Louise, would you mind not interrupting M. St. Just and I for a few minutes? I need to discuss some things with him."

The little girl nodded immediately, and, as usual, quietly acquiesced. She rose, but surprised Helene by taking the dirty dishes and going to wash them. She and Helene shared the housework, but the Frenchwoman had never asked this of her, and--well, Helene admitted that it surprised her how quickly Louise had adapted to housework from her former aristocratic lifestyle.

"Merci, Louise. Good night, ma petit chou chou. It was good to speak with you again." He smiled at Louise. "She's such a good child. She must be good company."

"Merci beaucoup, Louise," she murmured. She's a good child.

Helene nodded, speaking in English. "She *is* a good child...but sometimes I am anxious that she is *too* good. She has gone through so much--I worry that it broke her spirit and that she bottles up and hides her feelings inside." Helene sighed. "She has not had a healthy life, emotionally. I can give her an education, but she needs other children her own age to play with; she needs to have the freedom to run around and play games and do other things children do. She has grown up too fast.

Armand had no solution for this. "Perhaps Percy has friends who have children; and if so, once Louise is more comfortable, I'm sure, if she wanted, she could visit Percy's home and meet them." He shrugged. He hoped so, for Louise's sake.

“I wish... A thought suddenly struck her. "Armand," she inquired quietly, switching to English so that they could talk in confidence, "I don't like to ask, but maybe Sir Percy could help with Louise's tutoring in another way. I thought perhaps...well, he is an aristocrat, and he must have a library..."

Armand laughed. "Percy has more books than you could ever read. Yes, he has a library."

More books than she could ever read? Helene was tempted to take up the challenge, but she strictly reminded herself of her purpose in asking. Saying the word wakened a stronger emotion in herself than she would have thought--she had not realized how she had starved to read. She swallowed, pausing for a moment to force the thought down. This was not for herself. "It is difficult to teach Louise reading, in both English and French, when there is nothing to have her read from. I have barely been able to touch on subjects such as geography without maps to study from..." She looked toward Armand. "If we could borrow a few books, for a short period of time at least--it would be most helpful. It would also give Louise something to do during the day while I work. We will keep them in perfect condition, I promise you..." She trailed off, waiting in apprehension for his response.

"Mais oui! I'm sure Percy wouldn't mind." Armand yawned. It was much later than he thought. "Tell you what... I'll talk to him tomorrow morning and ride over and leave a letter with Louise. Would that be all right? Or maybe I could visit you at work."

Helene felt a tad frustrated. It was obvious Armand was exhausted--as well he should be; it was the wee hours of the morning--and he had to be getting home. But she still had so much to discuss with him! Tact, however, demanded that she let him go. She had been holding her own exhaustion at bay, but now it flooded back, blurring her vision and making her feel dizzy. Resolutely she pushed it back again... "Either would be fine, Armand. I will get in trouble if I take time from my work to talk to you, but if you take a table and order something no one will mind if we converse." She wrote down the name and address of the restaurant where she worked. Her fingers hesitated before handing over the scrap of paper, however. "Armand--there are so many things that I still need to talk with you about. About my brother, and about...Sir Percy and the help he gave us, both in terms of money and otherwise..." She paused. "Please visit again soon." As he prepared to leave, she went to fetch the coat he had left on the chair. As she picked it up she felt its fine, heavy fabric; everything Armand wore now was of the highest quality and tailoring. The recognition made an impression, but she wasn't sure whether she felt any particular emotion about the change. It was just different. "Good-bye, Armand--I hope to see you soon. Are you going to be all right getting home?" She frowned, worried. "If you like you can stay here for a few more hours until the sun rises. God knows what characters walk the streets at this hour."

"I will be fine, I think." Armand smiled and hugged Hélène. I will come see you at work tomorrow. And as for those who walk the streets at night... they shan't be able to catch up with me, for I'll be riding home." He grinned sleepily. "Good night, mademoiselle."

It did not cross the Frenchwoman's fatigue-fogged mind that Armand's presence in her flat would be more than slightly improper. Even if it had, she would not have cared--in her eyes, she was offering hospitality to a friend. Besides, she knew nobody around here, and even if she did--well, Helene hardly ever bothered with propriety over something that was sensible or convenient.

Helene's eyebrows rose as she bid him good-night and pulled the door shut behind him. She could not remember him ever calling her "mademoiselle" before, except in the prison when he was pretending not to know her. They had always been friends and equals; aside from an occasional "citoyenne" during the Revolution, he had always called her simply "Helene." She wondered if this were yet another manifestation of how his new aristocratic lifestyle was affecting him. Could that be why he had slipped up in the prison, as well? She had simply assumed that his innate politeness had proven more prevalent than his Republican ideals. Maybe that was so, and he had simply called her "mlle" tonight as a reaction to when she referred to him as "monsieur" to Louise. But that had only been for the little girl's sake.

She shook her head. She was too tired, and her thoughts were rambling. "Stop analyzing things and go to bed," she murmured to herself with a wry smile.

Quietly he left and went to fetch his horse. Galloping home in the cool night air woke him easilly.

He went quietly up to his room and wrote a shaky note to Percy, asking if Hélène could use some of the books in the library to tutor Louise. He shoved this under the Baronet's door and when back to bed.

While he has the attention of the shaken and awaken sprout, the Baronet sat on Armand's bed, clad in only his undergarments and the bed robe. As Armand was processing the instructions Blakeney formed in his over active mind about Helene and the theatre, he burst out, "Oh, and I near slipped on that note you left. Silly things, notes in the middle of the night. I find this way much more effective."

"S-sorry," Armand muttered. "I wanted to avoid something like this, though... Didn't want to wake you up..." He fell back asleep, but Percy's voice woke him almost immediately.

Again, his face took on a wicked grin, however the darkness prevented anyone from seeing it. "Take the lot of them. There are children's books I grew up with. I believe there might even be some written in French, but you would have to search for them. Just grab a few English books and children's books Armand to take. If all goes as I wish in the theatre, we can make arrangements for the two of them to come here. Often."

The Baronet's smile shone down at Armand. This man was wide awake.

Yes, awake. Wide awake. But not thinking. A little overjoyed. The boy was so happy he threw his arms around Percy, babbling in French, thanking him over and over and over... Eventually, though, he talked himself silent and drifted again.

Armand went into the library at one o' clock and selected books for Louise. They were old, heavy texts, much like his school books. He regretted not taking them with him now. Hélène could have used them. Oh well. C'est la vie.

He put them in a leather bag and strapped it to the horse. Then he rode swiftly to the address Hélène had given him, the peice of paper in his hand.

He left his horse at the same stable as before (he was getting to be on first-name terms with the man in charge) and went into the restaurant.

He sat down at a table by the window. And waited.

Helene had been keeping a watchful eye out for Armand all day. The lunch rush was just beginning to die down, but the restaurant was still crowded, noisy, and rowdy. It was a lower- to middle-class place, a cross something between a tavern and a cafe. They were understaffed, so Helene was already doing practically six tasks at the same time when she saw Armand enter and sit by the window. Abandoning her work for the moment, she rushed over, approaching him from behind. "Monsieur," she began in a teasing voice, "what can I get for you this fine day? I suggest our soup of the day, an excellent mixture of candle wax and good English mud." She grinned at him as he turned around, glad that he had come.

Solemnly, he turned to her, forcing the grin off his face. "Oh, I'm hungry! Give me the soup of the day, please, miss.” He said. "It's what I've been craving all day!"

Helene couldn't keep the grin off her face as Armand responded. It felt so good to be talking to a friend again.

He laughed finally, and said, "Actually, if you could get me some water, I'd be satesfied for now. As to the food... I'll wait a bit. Oh," he added as and afterthought, "I have some books for Louise in my bag here, as well as something from Percy. I'm not sure what it is, Frank gave it to me for you," He lied. He knew she wouldn't accept the money if he said what it was.

Helene raised an eyebrow. She wasn't stupid. Either Armand was lying or he hadn't been told, but doubtless she would be given a stack of banknotes that would take her months to pay back. Years. Well, this was not the time nor the place to get into another debate with him over it. If this secret passage of his was money, she simply would not use it--and return it at the first opportunity. But the books...she couldn't help smiling. Perhaps she would let herself indulge just a little..."Thank you so much, Armand. I can't tell you what a help this is."

"Also, we were wondering, Percy and I, if you and Louise would like to meet us at the theatre this evening, ah... six-thirty, I believe, would suffice."

Helene made a face. "My boss won't like it, but I'll see what I can do." Six-thirty. That would be hours of work wasted, hours of money that she would lose. But if it couldn't be helped, then it couldn't be helped. "Which theatre?" Oh, dear. A theatre meant a play. Well, Helene decided, there was a difference between being stubborn and being unreasonably prideful. They were doing the inviting; they could pay for the tickets. As they doubtless would anyway, but this time she would not refuse.

Armand grinned a little at her scowl, but quickly wiped the look off his face. "The theatre in town." He told her briefly where it was, just a few blocks north of the restraunt. Then his stomach growled. "Actually, some soup WOULD taste good. What do you have?"

"In the way of soup, some very creative beef concoction or vegetable." Her voice became conspirative. "Personally I'd recommend the latter--there's no telling *what* they put in the stew. For all I know, it might really have candle wax in it. The vegetable soup is a little thin, but at least it doesn't have anything unidentifiable in it."

Armand stifled a laugh into his napkin. "Yes, all right, let;s go with that, then." He grinned at his friend. "So how are things, really, here?" He asked quickly, before she left.

A cloud passed over Helene's face, but she covered it quickly with a half-hearted smile. "It's--difficult. I could not find anybody who would employ an educated woman in a professional position." The thought crossed her mind that she could try again dressed as a man...an interesting notion. She would consider it later. "To tell the truth, Armand, I do not mind the hard work and long hours as much as I abhor being bored out of my mind. But this job is survival." She gave him a shrug, a "what can you do?" look on her face. At that moment, she caught sight of her boss across the room--a militant, degrading man--scowling in her direction. She glanced back toward Armand. "Speaking of which, I think I am being told that if I do not get moving I will get fired." She gave Armand a curtsy (rather marred by her stiffness in not being used to the attitude) that was belied by a teasing smile. "I think I'd better see about your soup, sir." Her mischeivous grin made the comment perhaps less respectful than customer-waitress protocol demanded here. As it turned out, Helene's duties kept her from saying more than a few more words to Armand for the rest of the time. She had some questions about the meeting at the theatre, but not having time to ask them, she would have to improvise. Between her umpteen other tasks she brought Armand his soup, along with a cup of water and some tea. She was able to take the bag of books from him and stow it back behind the kitchen, as well as hurriedly let him know that she had been given grudging permission to leave at 5:30. With a half hour walk home, this would just give her enough time to pick up Louise and come back to the theatre.

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