The Pirate & The Porcelain Doll (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 10

Waverly heard Nicole speaking with her aunt as they entered, her French fluent, discussing what they might do for the day. Customary kisses on cheeks as a greeting, Nicole's aunt bid them good morning, saying she would see them that evening, not wanting to intrude on their breakfast.

Nicole's face lit up on seeing Waverly, reverting to English, informing her aunt how good Waverly was at the piano. "You must hear her aunt. So accomplished for someone so young. But before, I would like to show you Paris and perhaps have a picnic in the park. The weather is too hot to remain inside."

"Our governess lived in France," Waverly replied, "to practise. She has told me much about Paris."

"Then you will be able to tell her much on your return. Come, sit. We eat first. Frogs legs and snails. Oui."

Waverly's face fell. "Oh...I'm...I'm sure they're delicious."

"Nicole is teasing you," Wynonna offered. "At least, I hope she is. If I find a worm on my plate Red, I'm making you eat it."

"Red," she replied. "I haven't heard that in some time," her eyes falling on Waverly. "Gosh, all those times I scared you as a pirate. How horrid of me. My friends call me ma puce, my flea, which sounds frightfully rude but really means sweetie, at least I hope it means. Perhaps what they mean is I irritate them like a flea sometimes. Who can say?" Her eyes remained on Waverly. "And, you would be my little doll."

Waverly listened quietly to Nicole telling her sister about the friends she had made in Geneva, wishing she was one of them. I wonder if mama would let me study there, she thought. I could be her doll and talk to her in French all day. I'm not sure I'd like to eat frogs' legs, or snails. That's horrid. I must practise my piece before she hears me play. What if she doesn't like it? Or, thinks I'm not good enough.

"You're quiet this morning," Nicole added, interrupting her thoughts.

"Do you like living here?" Waverly asked, not knowing what else to say. "And, eating legs."

"I do. Very much. And, no I don't eat legs. Like you, I prefer them to remain on the frog. I'm hoping to return to England to study. Father would like me to go to Oxford, but I have my heart set on Cambridge. I will have cook prepare a picnic. I have some letters to write. May I suggest we depart no later than ten. Paris is very large."

Waverly waited until Nicole had left the room. "Would you eat frogs' legs, or snails?"

Wynonna mimed throwing up. "I refuse to eat anything that crawled out of a garden. Hopped. Or, didn't hop for that matter after someone decided to dehop it. Unhop. Remove its hopping ability."

Waverly sighed. "Frogs jump. They don't hop. What you mean is dejump, unjump. Which are not words, but I'll allow you these verbs on this occasion."

"You and your transitive verbs," Wynonna replied. "There will come a point when your head explodes. You do know that?"

"Intransitive. They are intransitive verbs. Jump and hop are both intransitive. And no, my head will not explode."

"Is that so little sister of mine? Can you not be so clever at the breakfast table? I need to eat in ignorance. Pass me the butter. Please."

"Passez le beurre s'il vous plait."

Wynonna rolled her eyes. "You know what your trouble is?"

"Quoi?"

"Rien. And, that's the trouble."

The carriages took them through the city, Waverly falling in love over and over with a landscape so alien to London, as Nicole explained to her the various sights. They stopped to wander underneath the recently completed Eiffel Tower, Nicole explaining it was erected in under two years, asking whether they would like to visit the top, Waverly's eyes following the metal structure all the way up deciding it was too high.