I found Geroux reading by the fireplace today. The one with the mounted game head on the wall above. Never seen an animal quite as ferocious looking as that. Such long, sharp teeth. Positively frightening.

"Belle," he said, acknowledging my presence, eyes staying firmly on his book. I could see a hint of a smile wrapping around the side of his face.

He was in a good mood.

"The garden looks rather lovely today," I said, leaning straight into my thinly veiled desire.

"Would you like to take a turn or two around the garden?" he asked, eagerly.

"I believe I shall," I replied, simply.

"I'll just fetch my coat," said Geroux, standing to leave. He placed his book down at the side table and continued to the door down the back of the room.

"Oh, I thought I would walk by myself," I said as evenly as possible. Geroux stopped and turned back, meeting my eyes for the first time since I entered the room. "It's just, I've been admiring the garden for so long and I would love to discover it on my own."

My words sat with Geroux for a few moments. He looked at the floor, calculating my request. Finally he spoke.

"Of course, madame," he said, giving me a slight bow of parting pleasantries.

"I will see you at dinner." I turned off, smiling proudly to myself.

Geroux called out, "If you are unsure of what something is... probably best not to touch it."

I gave a simple nod and continued on my way.

* * *

I already knew the garden was beautiful, but just as I anticipated, up close it was spectacular. If this were any other day, at any other time, I would have been completely spellbound by the variety of blooms and scents. Under these circumstances, however, my mind was elsewhere.

Although it was not too long ago, I have not been able to stop thinking about Pierre since I returned from my family home (a home I can never return to). A walk in the garden was the perfect excuse to get out of this house. I don't want to be thinking of Pierre near Geroux because it feels like... well, it feels like he knows... Which is an insane thought to have, but it's as if he can sense when I think about Pierre.

That isn't to say I don't appreciate him taking me in, now in my time of need. But this all started with such ugliness, I don't think I can ever forgive him for that.

Pierre, my love who has never ceased his search for me. Unless he returns to the family home soon, he will never find me here. So, after much consideration, I would like to begin my search for him.

But how will I, a girl virtually imprisoned in a house find someone out in the vast reaches of France, let alone even know where to begin looking?

All I need is a mirror.

* * *

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