Cloaks and Roses: A Retelling of Beauty and the Beast

Reconciliation

Louis

***

The morning Louis had to return to the little village outside of Paris came. Louis reluctantly donned his scarf and cloak, then had a servant ready Gabrielle while he loaded the carriage.

Now that Gabrielle lived with him, he had to take the carriage so she would be comfortable.

He told Gabrielle's favorite servant to come with them and loaded the girls into the carriage, then hopped on the horse and was off before the sun rose.

***

Isabelle

***

The priest and the Francois's family arrived around ten o'clock. Isabelle barely had the strength to don a black dress and veil before the funeral service started. She was glad she'd done it when the service started, though; she could cry without anyone noticing.

Tears fell steadily from her eyes as the priest talked about how great of a man Isabelle's father had been. Mrs. Francois held her hand tightly, and she'd never been more glad of the woman's presence. 

They'd just bowed their heads to pray the Lord's Prayer when a carriage drove up. Isabelle remembered that Louis was supposed to visit today, and her tears started to fall faster. She had to force herself to focus on the prayer.

The young priest, the deacon, and Mr. Francois attempted to lift the casket, but three pallbearers just wasn't enough.

To Isabelle's suprise, Louis hurried off of the horse and helped them, his expressive eyes very solemn.

She watched as her father's body was loaded into the undertaker's carriage. It wasn't until it started to pull away that the reality of the situation hit her, and she fell to her knees.

***

Louis

***

Louis was confused when he stopped in front of the Baudin residence. The Francois family was there, along with a slim figure in a beautiful but plain black dress...a priest and deacon stood, the priest talking.

He looked closer and saw a closed casket covered with flowers.

His heart sank and he put a hand over his mouth. Mr. Baudin had died. The figure in black was Isabelle. He could see wisps of blonde hair escaping her bun and veil now. 

He wanted to run to her, to hold her and tell her it would be okay...but he remembered her face the last time she'd seen him and decided to hold off on that for now.

He waited, a sense of sadness and pity for Isabelle and Mr. Baudin overwhelming him, until the pallbearers came to carry the coffin to the undertaker's carriage. They couldn't lift it.

Without a second thought, Louis ran to them and helped them load the casket into the carriage. He laid a hand on it and closed his eyes, sending up a prayer and thanking Mr. Baudin for his kindness.  He turned around and saw that the Francois's were gone- only Isabelle remained.

She was kneeling on the ground, her arms around her waist, almost as if she were holding herself together, her head bowed. Her shoulders were shaking. It was the most pitiful sight he'd ever seen.

Suddenly he didn't care about the last time they'd seen each other; he only cared about right now. And seeing her like this wasn't cutting it.

He went to her, kneeling beside her and taking her into his arms. She melted into him and he held her tightly while she cried. He took the veil off of her head so she would be more comfortable.

She cried for a long, long time, but he didn't rush her. He just rubbed her back and murmured soothing words into her ears, telling her he was here and it would be okay.

Finally, she pulled away. She hiccuped once, and her cheeks filled with color.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. Her voice cracked.

He handed her his handkercheif and she dabbed at her face. She clutched it tightly in her hands when she finished.

"I found him this morning," she declared.

He reached out a hand and she placed hers in it. He held it tightly as she continued. 

"So I called the priest and the Francois's came with him. And I was okay...then they carried him out and it hit me that I'm really, truly all alone. I have no family left. I've never had friends. No suitors. No one. It's just me now," she finished, her voice growing smaller and smaller until it was barely audible.

His heart broke for her. Without thought, he pulled her up and back to him for a hug. "Come live with me."

The words came from his mouth without him even thinking about them. Once they were out there, though, he thought of a life with Isabelle and Gabrielle. About having her with them all day. He pictured her laughing and humming and brightening up the home.

He wanted it more than anything.

She tilted her head up to look at him. He looked down into her red-rimmed eyes, an intense shade of blue from the crying.

"You don't want me to live with you," she told him. 

"But I do," he insisted.

"All of my things are here, and..."

"They can be moved. And...?"

She looked at the dead rosebush in front of the house. "My mother's rosebush."

He looked at it and remembered her crying the day he'd left. 

"It doesn't look like it's bloomed for a while," he told her softly.

She shook her head sadly. "I know. I've tried all I can, but it won't bloom without her."

"They why don't you want to leave it?"

She looked back up at him. "I guess I still hope it will bloom."

He tightened his arms around her, not caring if this was improper or what the servant in the carriage would think. He just wanted to comfort Isabelle and convince her to come live with him.

An idea popped into his head and he quickly said the first thing he could think of.

"I have a rose garden in my back yard. A huge, beautiful rose garden with roses of every color. Would that be good enough?"

She hugged him tightly, leaning her face on his chest. "That would be wonderful. Thank you."

He grinned. "Let's go pack your things."