The tarte tatin was every bit as good as his mothers. He ate it slowly, savoring every bite. “Ohhh, this is so good,” he crooned.
Finally he was done. As he pushed his chair back, he declared, “I am so full I will not eat again until I am thirty.”
While they had coffee, Gastien smoked some hashish. He definitely had some pain this morning after the activity of the night before.
They washed dishes together, finally curling up on a chaise. The newlyweds both read while cuddling together, soon falling asleep. The stove made it nice and warm, along with the cozy coverlet they had over them.
Waking up, they bathed; then spent hours in each other’s arms again, coming up for food at about midnight.
This is how their honeymoon was spent, along with moving in Sophie’s things, and the celebration at Moulin de la Galette in their honor.
VII
Everyone who had been at the wedding also showed up for the dance and buffet. This time, Gastien’s amis brought along dancing partners. There was much toasting, eating, and drinking. If Gastien noticed that Sophie’s side of the family kept their distance from him, he pretended not to. He was pleasant to them, and tried to make them feel included.
Soon the dance was starting for the evening. The band leader clamored for quiet.
“Tonight we have a wedding celebration in our midst. It is always a pleasure to be part of a couple’s entrance into matrimony. This first dance will be for the bride and groom only. Gastien and Sophie Beauchamp, please come out on the floor.”
Blushing, Gastien and Sophie walked out to the center of the dance floor.
“Now, these two have been married for two days already. I am sure that they are quite familiar with each other by now. Let’s give them a hand while they dance their first ‘less private’ dance as man and wife.”
Everyone cheered and applauded. The French loved any reason to celebrate, and marriage was a favorite.
As the music began, Sophie looked stricken. She confessed in a whisper, “I really am not much of a dancer, Gastien. I am embarrassed.”
Speaking quietly, Gastien took her in his arms. “Just relax, Sophie Make love to me with your clothes on.”
“What???”
“Make love to me with your clothes on. That is what dancing can be, when two people love each other.” Then he kissed her and started to move. “Come. Show me how you feel about me. This is for us, not them.”
She leaned back, looking up at him with half closed lids.
“All right, Gastien. I will show you,” she murmured.
Slowly trailing her fingers up his chest, Sophie reached both hands up to his head. She then ran her hands down through his hair, taking the leather strap with her, letting his hair down. She smiled slow and sexy, never breaking eye contact. Her hands moved to the back of his head, holding a handful of hair in each, letting it play between her fingers. Then she placed a foot on each of his.
Arching her back, pelvis against him, she let her head fall back, eyes partially closed, body moving against his to the music. She straightened back up and ran her hands up his back, locking her hands behind his neck. Then she flattened herself against him, matching every movement of his hips.
No one in the crowd made a sound. The way Gastien and Sophie looked at each other, the way he controlled every movement, left no doubt what they were thinking about. They moved as one, as if already joined together. They seemed hypnotized by each other’s eyes.
When the dance ended, Gastien tilted Sophie back, kissing her deeply. Then he escorted her off the dance floor.
People erupted into cheering and clapping. Demonstrations of both love and lust were much appreciated. They had just seen a vivid display of both. Anything more graphic and the couple should have been arrested. Luckily, this was Montmartre; otherwise, they may have been.
Gastien’s amis were happily teasing them about the dance. Unfortunately, as Gastien looked at Sophie’s family, he saw that they were offended by the public display of carnal knowledge.
Sophie noticed, too. When a couple of her siblings looked at her in clear disapproval, she simply laughed gaily, pretending not to notice. She stood on tiptoe and kissed Gastien. He looked at her with questioning eyes.
“This is our life now,” she said softly. “Our rules. When it comes to my desire for you, I will not be censored.”
She threw her arms around him. “Take me back out there, my husband! I never knew until tonight that dancing could be so much fun.”
They danced a couple more dances before amis started to cut in. Both Sophie and Gastien danced with many partners, including Sophie’s siblings and spouses. They were quite formal while dancing with Gastien. He could sense their disapproval, both of the way he and Sophie had danced and of him in general. He made small talk, holding them at a proper distance; still he could sense that they could not wait to get away.
Finally, he walked over to Odette.
“Come, Odette. Let’s dance,” he said offering his arm.
She looked at him coolly. “I don’t think so, Gastien. I am trying to be decent. Please don’t push it.”
“Are you going to embarrass me at my own wedding celebration?”
Sighing, she stood up. Neither said a word during the whole song.
Gastien did not want this treatment by Sophie’s family to bother him, but it did. He was human. It hurt to be so unanimously rejected.
When it was almost time to go, he walked over the where her family was sitting. Sophie was on the dance floor with Father Fournier.
“Merci all for coming tonight. I appreciate it, as does Sophie.”
They nodded stiffly.
“You know, should you decide to get to know me, I think you would find I am not a bad person. I know you find me less than what you wanted for Sophie. I can’t change who I am. Please always remember that I do love her. I hope at some point you each can be a little more kind to me. I might surprise you.”
He then turned to go get Sophie.
“If he really did love her, he would have left her alone. That would have been the right thing to do,” he heard one of Sophie’s sisters say.
Gastien froze. He turned and gazed at them.
“If any of you think I had a choice to walk away, then you don’t understand how strong that pull can be. I could no more have walked away than I could cut off my painting hand.”
A brother spoke up. “What you did out there on the dance floor – “
“Is our business,” Gastien finished firmly. “We are man and wife. We make the rules for our behavior.” He smiled. “Please. Let’s enjoy the evening. It is a night for celebration and love. Celebrate yours!”
Gastien went and joined his amis. Seeing that Gastien was agitated, Mic asked him what was said.
“Not much, Mic. They are having a hard time accepting me, I guess.”
Mic shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Are you going to let it bother you that much? They win then. It is worth that?”
Gastien shrugged. “Non. It is not. Still, I am human so it stings a little.” He gathered his thoughts, realizing how much he had to be thankful for. “However, I have my Sophie, a baby on the way, my amis, my studio…I have everything I need and want most. I am good.” Then his face lit up. “Mic, I am better than good. I am the luckiest man alive!”
Sophie came over. Laughing, he picked her up to kiss her. “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure? I am having so much fun!” she said breathlessly.
Gastien could see that she was really having a good time. “Well, then we will stay. That is fine, Sophie. I am having fun, too. I was worried you might be tired, carrying a baby.”
“Non! I want to dance some more. And right now, I want to dance with my husband!” They danced several more dances. Eventually, Sophie looked with she was asleep with her eyes open. Gastien would hear no more argument. It was time to get Sophie home.
VIII
Soon it was Tuesday. It was time for Gastien to cont
inue painting Charlotte; time for Sophie to go back to work. Gastien reminded Sophie that he would be painting full time, even if he was not with a patron, at least five days a week. They also discussed her working at Au Lapin Agile.
They needed the money now that a child was coming. Gastien, however, did not want her working nights. He felt it was too busy, making the trays too heavy for her. He also thought the cabaret was too full of unruly men. They both agreed that she should talk to the owner about switching to days.
Gastien met her that night at the end of her shift. As they walked, she told him about the conversation with her boss. He was amiable to keeping Sophie on as long as possible, knowing that the two needed the money. He liked them both and did not want to hurt them financially. He was concerned, however, about there not being enough business during the day for a server to do well.
He suggested that she work as a cook instead, coming in at nine o’clock in the morning and working until about four. She could eat a meal there at noon, getting home in time to spend the evenings with Gastien. She also could keep Sunday and Monday as her days off.
Sophie thought that would be perfect, as she loved to cook and was good at it. She would make the soups and desserts, plus make the food for lunch and afternoon customers.
Sophie was excited to start the very next day, but he suggested she come in at noon the first day, so that she would get some sleep.
“How did your session with Charlotte go today?” asked Sophie.
“It went exceedingly well! I got quite a lot done. Many of the details can be done on my own this week; I think one more sitting next Tuesday will wrap it up. Charlotte will be able to pick up the painting the following week, once it is dry. She will need to have it varnished in about a year, but that can be done by any artist.”
“Did you eat, Gastien? I left you food to warm up…”
“Oui! It is very nice to have good food available during the day! It was delicious, even as leftovers. I also ate the last tarte tatin,” he confessed guiltily.
“I figured you would have no problem finding that last one, no matter where I put it in the icebox!”
“Oui.”
“I will make you a tart of pumpkin next.”
“Non! You will make me fat!” cried Gastien.
“Well, right now I think you can eat desserts. You are practicing fencing often, plus you are very active in bed. It won’t hurt you to eat a piece of tart once a day.”
“Well, I am not going to protest twice. I do like tart of pumpkin.”
“Just don’t eat a very big piece. Then you will stay slim.”
Sophie found that she would be glad to be working days, as Gastien was in another world during his painting time. He did not go into one of those spells where he did not eat or sleep, but he definitely did not pay attention to the outside world until he either took a lunch break, or when he stopped at five.
Nor did he wish to be disturbed. She made that mistake the next morning, asking him what he would like to eat that week. When she got no answer, she asked louder.
He looked up from painting, looking mildly frustrated. “What, Sophie?”
“I just want to know what to plan in regard to meals this week. What you would like?”
Gastien sighed in exasperation. “I don’t care. If you want to cook, cook. Pick whatever you want. I can’t think about food right now.”
“But I just want to make you happy so I – “
“Then don’t ask me these questions when I am painting! That will make me happy.”
He could see he had hurt her. He took a deep breath. “Sophie, I am sorry I am short with you. But my painting time is undisturbed time. It has to be that way for me. If you wish, we can discuss this tonight. I will participate in the decision all you want, if you wait until then.”
She realized for the first time how very difficult it would actually be if she were to live with this man daily. She loved him, but she would not be able to exist in a quiet vacuum every day while he worked. Perhaps their agreement was for the best, after all.
She got ready to go to the markets, walking up to Gastien to kiss him.
“I will learn, Gastien. It is just an unusual way for someone to be. It takes time.” She kissed his cheek. “Je t’aime. I will see you later.”
Gastien turned to look at her. “I know. I told you I am difficult.” He kissed her deeply. “Je t’aime, Petite Oiseau, very much. Right now, though, my paints are demanding my full attention. Have a good outing.”
Immediately he was back at work, lost in a world only he and others like him understood.
They settled into a routine that worked quite nicely most of the time, although Sophie did not care for the smell of turpentine when it got too strong. Airing out the place helped, although it was certainly a waste of heat.
Evenings were spent cooking together, reading, sometimes going to a concert, a play, or a circus act. Many times they got together with Mic and Alice, or Cassie and Vic. Sometimes they went to dinner.
Their Sundays and Mondays were spent sleeping later, being lazy, exploring odd shops, and more of the previously mentioned activities. And, always, there was the lovemaking. There was never a shortage of lovemaking in the Beauchamp household.
The baby grew. At five months, Sophie was asked to quit work. It was not considered proper for a pregnant woman to work once she was showing much. She was now at home full time. It was February, still not pleasant enough to spend much time outside. During the times that Gastien painted she grew very bored. Sometimes she went to visit her aunt or a sibling. Other times she would read and sleep.
Sophie was sure now that if she had to live this way permanently, she would reach a point where she would be ready to strip off her clothes and run naked down the street – just to get some attention! Gastien had been right after all. A full time wife and baby did not fit into his working hours or home. She felt even more strongly that she had agreed to the right thing.
IX
Gastien sat next to her on the chaise, running his hand over her stomach. All of a sudden, his hand froze. His eyes got huge.
“Sophie! He’s moving! He’s moving!” he cried.
Sophie laughed gently. “Oui, it certainly is. I told you it has been moving off and on. It just would not happen when you were around. I think you were being teased.”
Gastien laughed happily. “He is kicking against my hand! I think he is telling me that he wants you to quit calling him ‘it’.”
“But we don’t know if he is a he!”
“Sophie, I know. Just…please! Call him a ‘he’. Don’t insult him! He does not like being called an ‘it’.”
She brushed Gastien’s hair out of his eyes. “Darling, ok. I will stop calling him an ‘it’. But if he is a girl, she will give you a good dressing down for calling her a boy all these months.”
“It is a boy. A man knows those things,” he said smugly.
Sophie burst out laughing. “Oh, please. Some women say they do, which seems more reasonable since the baby is in them, but the man? What could you know about its sex?”
“I know what took hold in there. I just think I gave you all boy stuff,” he said proudly.
She messed up his hair. “Fine, whatever you need to feel like an expert. All boy stuff! What happened with Nath, then?”
“I don’t always give out all boy stuff, just sometimes,” he said stubbornly.
“And what do you want to name this boy of yours?”
Gastien thought a minute. “I don’t want to name him after me, or anyone else in either family. I want him to stand on his own.”
He thought some more and then said, “I really like the name Tristan. You don’t hear it much. How about Tristan Michel, to honor Mic?”
It was Sophie’s turn to think. Saying the name softly a few times, she said, “You are right. It is a wonderful name! Tristan Michel it will be – unless he decides to be a she. Then I would like Camille Marguerite after both of our mothers. All ri
ght?”
“Sure. But it will be Tristan Michel. Oh, and he will not inherit your height! He will be tall, like me,” teased Gastien.
“I hope so. I hope he is at least average. My brothers are, so there is more hope.”
“He will have your wild hair and eyes.”
“Non! He may have my curls, but your hair and eye coloring. I hope the baby has your huge eyes and beautiful mouth.”
“Come give that beautiful mouth a kiss,” suggested Gastien.
After kissing and cuddling awhile, Gastien asked, “When are we going to need to stop making love? I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.”
“Oh, not for awhile yet, but we should be gentle. You are large and I am small. There is no need to assault your son with that sword of yours.”
He gathered her in his arms and stood. “Let me give you an example of how gentle my sword can be,” he promised softly in her ear. “Let me inside again, Sophie. I need you badly right now.”
She responded by drawing his face to hers, using her tongue gently inside of his mouth. As he carried her to the bed, he started to unbutton her clothes. Soon the night was spent in their favorite pastime.
Gastien’s swordsmanship proved to be excellent.
As time progressed, though, Sophie became more bored with having to live her life around Gastien’s painting. It was really hard being quiet enough to not disturb him. One big room was definitely no way for a husband and wife to live, especially if one worked in that room, let alone a family!
As for Gastien, although his love for Sophie grew, he was getting restless. He really wanted some hot, raw sex; he needed it, too. Oui, there was a strong yearning for a good hard tryst, with plenty of hard thrusting.
He also missed going out at night to talk art with his amis. It was still cold, and Sophie was showing. She did not really feel like going out much in places where men were drinking. Gastien could understand that. He did not want to leave her home alone, either. More and more, he found himself having to make sure he did not sound impatient with his wife. It was not her fault.
Gastien: From Dream to Destiny: A Caddy Rowland Historical Family Saga/Drama (The Gastien Series Book 2) Page 21