by Paige Elwood
When she appeared from behind the screen, the women fussed over her, helping her into her dress and sitting her down at a dressing table in front of an ornate mirror. One of the maids set to work braiding Sophie’s hair into an intricate up-do, her hands incredibly deft as she wove her hair. Sophie marveled at how fast the woman worked. She’d never seen a hairdresser create such an intricate hairstyle so effortlessly.
With her hairdo completed, Sophie struggled to recognize herself. She looked like a refined aristocrat in one of the period dramas Claire loved so much. Clinging to the Sabine woman’s words of returning home, Sophie decided to enjoy a little adventure. Although this wasn’t the trip she’d envisioned, it was definitely a trip to be here! She beamed at Madame Petellier and the two maids that had helped. “Thank you,” she said. “I love it!”
“You are welcome.” Madame Petellier returned her warm smile. She dismissed the maids in French and turned back to Sophie. “We will be having dinner soon. Would you like to rest in your room until then, or would you like to meet my oldest daughter?”
Sophie considered this. There wasn’t too much to do in the room, and although she could have a nap, she didn’t want to mess up her hair. Besides, her curiosity about the rest of the enormous mansion niggled at her. “I would love to meet your daughter,” she said with a shy smile.
“Come with me,” Madame Petellier said, sweeping out of the bedroom and further down the hall. She knocked on a door halfway down the corridor. “Isabeau,” she called at the door.
The door swung open, and a younger version of Madame Petellier appeared. Her hair was perhaps a shade lighter, but there was no mistaking that Isabeau was her daughter.
“Maman?” she said politely to her mother.
“Can you please entertain our guest for a few moments while I attend to dinner preparations?”
“Of course,” Isabeau said, waving her away. “You go and check on the kitchen, and I will look after our guest.”
She turned to Sophie as Madame Petellier hurried off down the hall, leaving the two younger women standing in the hallway. Isabeau looked to be about twenty. She had smooth olive skin and deep brown eyes. Her intricately braided hair was a similar style to Sophie’s, and she wore a delicate gown of pale green silk. An ornate peridot pendant graced her neck. She was pretty in a wholesome way, with balanced features and robust curves.
“I am Isabeau,” she said.
“Lovely to meet you, Isabeau. I am Sophie,” Sophie replied.
“I am very excited to have you here,” Isabeau said. “It will be good to have a new friend to talk to.”
“Don’t you have two sisters to talk to?” Sophie asked.
“Well, yes, and I love them dearly, but we all live in this same house and talk about the same things all the time. Edouard tells us you are from a faraway land, with strange and different customs. We are all very excited to have you here.”
Isabeau ushered Sophie into her bedroom. The layout echoed Sophie’s room with an enormous bed and a bath in the far corner. Vases of flowers graced the top of a large table, and a pile of leather-bound books sat beside the bed. This room’s tapestries showed a dark-haired man watching sadly as couples danced at a grand ball.
“My dress suits you well,” Isabeau said.
“It’s a beautiful dress,” Sophie replied, touching the delicate fabric.
“You should keep it, it looks better on you,” Isabeau smiled. “Did Marta do your hair? Isn’t she amazing?”
“I think so, is Marta one of the maids?” Sophie asked.
Isabeau nodded. “She’s the best, I always have her do mine.” She carefully touched her hands to her updo.
Sophie glanced at Isabeau’s dressing table, laden with small pots. A thought struck her. “Umm... Isabeau,” she said.
“Yes?”
“After I bathe, I normally apply something to underneath my arms to prevent bad smells,” she said. Would they have something like deodorant here? She’d heard terrible tales that people in the Middle Ages all smelled awful. Yet other than the beggar and perhaps a couple of people they’d passed on the street, she hadn’t noticed any particular odors from anyone.
“Oh, yes! I have something,” Isabeau said. She dipped a clean rag into a pot on her dresser and handed it to Sophie.
Sophie sniffed it tentatively. It smelled like…sage and rosemary. She supposed smelling like an herb garden was preferable to the alternative. She was normally more of a Clean Cotton kind of girl.
She remembered Claire once giving her a lecture on aluminum in deodorant and that her twin often bought a fancy all-natural deodorant made with sage. Claire would have coped a lot better with this century, Sophie thought. Why couldn’t it have been Claire that accidentally fell through time? She’d probably love it! Sophie reached into her dress with the rag and briefly wiped the mixture on each underarm. She was dubious, but something was better than nothing, she supposed.
A bell sounded from downstairs. “Come,” Isabeau said, “Dinner’s ready.”
As if on cue, Sophie’s stomach growled. She glanced at Isabeau, hoping she hadn’t heard it, but saw amusement shining in the other girl’s eyes. They both laughed.
“Sounds like we need to hurry,” Isabeau giggled, leading Sophie down the stairs and through to the dining room.
Chapter 14
Edouard walked the whole way home in something of a daze. He stopped to gaze across at the Seine and try and collect his thoughts. He couldn’t get that kiss out of his mind. The feel of her body against his, the passion in that one kiss! He thought he’d shared passionate kisses before, felt attraction to women. This was something else entirely though. It was consuming his thoughts and his soul. Nobody had ever kissed him quite like that!
Was this what he was waiting for, the beginning of love? He’d been worried he might not recognize it if it happened, but that kiss made it a little clearer for him. It was truly like nothing he’d experienced before. Sophie’s passion was unrivalled by anyone he’d ever kissed or courted. As was her warmth. Yes, he wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss her again until they were both breathless. Yet he also wanted to keep her in his arms, protect her, cherish her, make sure she was happy.
He’d never wanted to hurt or upset a woman in his life, but this protective feeling towards her was a completely new one that went far beyond the standard ‘men should look after ladies.’ . He shook it off. She was a very beautiful woman, it was normal to be attracted to her.
As he neared the street before his own, a young couple passed him, arm in arm and whispering to each other. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their closeness suggested that they were lovers’ whispers. He watched them go, heads bent towards each other, their bodies as close as they could get side by side. He wondered if the two were in love, and how they had known it to be more than attraction. Or, perhaps it was still mere attraction.
His mind went back to the night of his curse. He’d been courting Marianne for several months that fateful night, and they had always enjoyed each other’s company. Yet her kisses did not stir anything near the amount of reaction in Edouard as Sophie’s had. After that evening, Marianne had stopped courting Edouard, refusing to give her mother and father a reason. Shortly afterwards she had married a Comte and moved to her husband’s estate further north.
He’d felt remorse that he’d taken Marianne to the cathedral and put her in such a position. He had felt guilty for the fright she’d had when the curse had struck him. His pride had even been dented when word reached him that they were no longer courting, and she was engaged to a Comte. Yet he’d never truly missed her, nor had he really expected to mourn her absence.
He’d only known Sophie a few hours, and she’d made more of an impression on him than any woman ever had. He thought if she left he might miss her. But that was a ridiculous notion. He barely even knew the girl yet. The ring around his neck was warm and heavy, not the cold metal band it usually was. It seemed to be reminding him t
hat this was his destiny. Eternal love was destined to be his, so why was he still so unsure?
He pushed the thoughts away. She probably thought he was an arrogant buffoon. He suspected he might have a job on his hands convincing her that he was worthy of her love. He hoped he was. He needed to break the curse. And he was surprised to realize that he needed her to love him as well, simply for himself and not just because of the curse. He had no idea how to do that, or how to love her back, but he was going to give it his best shot.
Chapter 15
Sophie gazed around in awe at the huge, ornately furnished dining room with its large oak dining table big enough to seat at least twenty people and matching oak sideboards, which held ornate golden candelabras. Two enormous chandeliers holding candles gave the room a dramatic feel, and it surprised Sophie just how much light the various candles provided.
Like the other rooms, complex tapestries adorned the walls. This one depicted Notre Dame and a young couple entering the grand cathedral. Sophie marveled at the intricacy of the work and the impressive representation of Notre Dame. It must have taken hours of work, she mused. She’d seen old tapestries in museums she’d visited on high school trips. This one looked fresh and new in comparison, the colors vivid and the story practically popping off the fabric.
The table was laden with carafes of wine and goblets. One of the servants appeared and poured them each a large glass of wine. Sophie took a sip of the cool red liquid and closed her eyes in appreciation. The wine burst with flavor on her tongue. They each had an empty plate in front of them, but no food graced the table yet. Sophie wondered nervously what food would be served. She’d seen pictures of medieval feasts with pig’s heads, and she was very much hoping that was not on the menu tonight.
Isabeau ushered her over to one of the high-backed oak chairs and took a seat beside her. Two other girls were already seated facing them. Sophie gave them a shy smile.
“Sophie, these are my sisters, Alice and Delphine,” Isabeau said, gesturing to the two girls.
The one on the left appeared to be the youngest, Delphine. She had the same eyes and hair as Isabeau, with a daintier nose and fuller lips that made her even prettier than her older sister. Alice, the middle sister, had darker eyes than her sisters. They were closer set with a fuller brow, and her thin lips made her look like a disapproving schoolmistress. She smiled at Sophie, and the effect was stunning. Despite her initial stern appearance, she had an enchanting smile. Sophie returned it with one of her own.
“Nice to meet you both,” Sophie said, taking another sip of the wine. The absurdity of the situation struck her again and she bit back a giggle. She was greeting medieval ladies like she did it all the time!
Madame Petellier joined them soon after they sat, followed by several kitchen maids each holding a platter of food. Sophie’s eyes bulged at the array of dishes. There were leeks in a mustard and vinaigrette sauce, full chickens, pork in a sauce of tomatoes and herbs, and a sausage and bean casserole. A large dish of butter sat next to a pile of dense, dark rye bread with steam still rising from it. Sophie’s stomach rumbled. It all smelled edible enough, but it looked weird.
The servants placed the food down and served each of the ladies in turn from the enormous platters. Sophie wondered what would happen with the leftovers—there were bound to be plenty given the huge amount of food on the table. She doubted the five of them could eat it all. It made a spectacular display, and for a moment she thought she should take a picture and put it on her Instagram.
It was a strange feeling to realize that none of those things existed in this time. A pang of homesickness struck her, but she was soon distracted again with hunger. She speared a slice of leek with her fork and put it in her mouth. The flavor combinations were delicious, as good as any restaurant she’d ever tried. She was almost disappointed that she didn’t hate it. She didn’t want to like this time, this place. She just wanted to go home.
“Is the food to your liking?” Madame Petellier asked.
“Yes, thank you, it’s delicious,” Sophie said. Shame it’s not a burger, though, she thought.
“We were not sure what food you would be used to,” Delphine said. “Edouard said you are from far away, with strange customs and foods.”
Sophie nodded. I bet he did… she thought. “Where I am from it is… different… but we have food a little like this, and this is as good as any food I have ever tasted.”
* * *
“What is the food you like the most?” Delphine asked.
“Here, or at home?” Sophie asked.
“At home, silly,” Delphine giggled.
“Pizza,” Sophie said without hesitation, her mouthwatering at the thought of a large pizza and a soda.
“I have not heard of this. What does it taste like?” Delphine asked, and the others leaned in, interested to hear of the strange cuisine of Sophie’s homeland.
“It’s like a large, flat, round bread with tomato sauce and cheese melted on top.” Sophie said. She wasn’t really making it sound as delicious as it was. “You can put almost anything you like on top of it.” She added, “I like it with barbecue chicken on top.”
“Barbecue chicken?” Alice asked.
“Chicken in a sweet sauce.” Sophie clarified.
“It sounds interesting. What is in the sauce?” Isabeau asked.
Sophie pondered. “I don’t know for sure. I think it’s tomato, mustard, honey, and some spices.”
“Could you show the cook how to make this…pizza?” Isabeau asked.
“Maybe.” Sophie shrugged. “It might not be the same. I usually buy it ready made,” she said, apologetically. Cooking was not her strong suit.
“I would like to try it, if you can show us how to make it,” Alice said.
Yeah, sure. We’ll just order a Dominos, no biggie… Sophie thought.
“Leave the poor girl alone,” Madame Petellier admonished them. “She has traveled far and is tired, she does not need all of your questions.” Thank you, Madame! Sophie thought.
“Do you have brothers or sisters, Sophie?” Delphine asked.
“Yes, a twin sister, Claire,” she answered.
“Twins!” Delphine clapped her hands excitedly, “How fun! Do you look the same? Did you play tricks on people pretending to be each other?”
“We don’t look the same, but we look similar, like all sisters tend to do,” Sophie said.
“Do you miss her?” Delphine asked.
“So much,” Sophie said. “I hope to go back soon so I can see her.” She wished more than anything that she could just pick up a telephone and call Claire.
“She must be missing you terribly,” Alice said.
Sophie wondered again what was happening at home. She was in the past so surely nobody would have missed her. Would time just be frozen? Or would she have literally vanished? If that was the case, were people starting to miss her?
She tried to reply, but her mouth felt frozen and no words came out. The effort made her head spin, and she felt dizzy and nauseous. Goosebumps prickled on her arms and legs. She wrapped her arms around herself to stave off the sudden chill that engulfed her.
What was she doing sitting here in a fancy dress with her hair all pinned up for dinner like an actress playing a role in Little Women or something? Who were these people? Why should she trust them? She’d gone to sleep last night in a normal world and woken up… here! Where was here anyway? Was she sure she’d just gone back in time, or was this some kind of parallel universe? She tried to reassure herself that Sabine had promised she could go home, but it wasn’t feeling very reassuring right now. What if she’d lied?
Her breath was coming in short, ragged gasps, and the girdle felt too tight. “I shouldn’t be here! Why are you all acting like this is normal?” Sophie blurted.
She needed more air in her lungs. He hair was too tight on her head. She stood up, sending her chair clattering to the floor. The women around the table stared at her, mouths agape as she fran
tically tried to undo the girdle. Why was this thing so tight?
“I don’t understand what’s happening” Tears began streaming down her cheeks. She ripped some of the pins from her hair, sending random strands tumbling loose.
She still couldn’t breathe. Madame Petellier got up from her seat and came around to Sophie. “Just breathe,” she said, soothingly into her ear. “Just breathe, Cherie, it will all be better when you catch your breath. In… and … out.”
She talked Sophie through breathing slowly until the panicky sensation had subsided and changed into a combination of frustration at her circumstances and shame at her outburst. Great, I probably have crazy hair again, too, she thought, her hand flying up to her hair.
Madame Petellier sat her in the chair and replaced the hairpins. “It looks fine,” she reassured her. “Do you feel better?”
Sophie nodded miserably. She didn’t feel much better, but she decided to at least try and appear to fit into this world as best she could. She’d figure out the way home, but to survive here she kind of needed their help, so it was probably in her best interests to stop acting so crazy. Perhaps she could talk to Sabine again soon and see if she knew more than she had let on earlier.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Alice said, glancing down at her feet.
“Oh, no, you didn’t upset me, it wasn’t you really,” Sophie said, embarrassed now at her outburst.
She couldn’t exactly explain her thoughts, they’d think she was crazy talking about traveling through time. She wondered what Edouard had told them about where she came from and how she got here.
“I just got suddenly very homesick thinking about my sister. It’s been a strange day and I don’t really understand what’s happening to me,” she said, looking around the table at the women. “What did Edouard actually tell you about me, where I came from? Why are you helping me?”