Doe (#Wattys2016)

Chapter Thirty-Five

                 

They had Dechuange over every evening and for the weekends. Francis would see her mother and Harri on Saturday mornings and guiltily be relieved to return to the manor where Dechuange was making everything so light.

      One particular afternoon, the three of them were walking through the fields. Francis was quiet and sad, her conversation with her mother had been strained. She had stayed longer then she should have, every minute more agonising. Her mother could barely look at her in the face; she had grown so pale and weary. Worse, Francis couldn't escape the gaze of Harri and felt accused. His parting words in her ears, 'Better hope there's no fever this year.'

    Dechuange kicked a pile of leaves while listening to Draco. Draco was preparing his first ever speech for the Meeting the next week. It was really his debut as an adult Lurie, second to his father. To show he too was a man of principle and strength he was to give a speech. Francis thought it was very like the ones his father used to give, when she had first attended the Meetings. Dechuange ran up to her and threw an armful of dry leaves at her. She laughed and shook the bits out of her hair as best she could.

"What's wrong with you today?" he asked her kindly.

"Nothing," she attempted a smile.

"It must be something. I'd expected a retaliation of some kind," he linked his arm with hers.

"Was it your mother?" Draco asked.

She shrugged.

"Every time you come back you seem more sad," Dechuange told her softly.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes as the tears started to brim. Dechuange pulled her into him, gripping her as they walked through the mud.

"Look at me. I don't think I've cried these past five months," she laughed.

"Not true. You cried last week at the ballet," Draco gave her a small smile.

"And the film before that," Dechuange joined in.

"The Opera."

"The theatre."

"Yesterday, at dinner. Kitty's joke about the Joneses."

"Alright!" she cried, laughing, "So I cry all of the time."

Dechuange kissed her on the cheek, "And we love you for it."

She beamed at him and felt her face glowing. Draco laughed.

"Perhaps you should stay the night at home," Dechuange told her.

"I can't."

"I'm sure you'll be permitted now," Dechuange looked at her.

"If it's just one night," Draco mused.

"Perfect. I could drop you off on my way to Poquelin's."

"The Lab really isn't the place-"

Dechuange stopped her, "I know what The Lab is. Don't fear."

"It sounds like you have all the solutions." Draco appraised him.

The night spent at her mother's was the break they needed. She relaxed as soon as Dechuange entered the small house. Even Harri liked him, but that was Dechuange. Somehow he fit in everywhere. He even came to The First Lab on Harri's invite for a drink. The locals had never seen such a smart looking man in their midst and yet he put them all at ease. It was great evening spent with friends and family. They all felt better for it.

Dechuange seemed a comfort to Draco too. Since his and Darlin's argument, his bad moods were just seething under the surface. One day he was so bad, after finding Francis with two more offers for an escort that she spent the whole day hiding out with Dechuange afraid to go back to arguing with Draco. Dechuange eventually got them to make peace. Francis was surprised at people's reactions to her new clothes; she appreciated them but didn't think anyone else would. Yet, the day after she went anywhere she would receive at least one letter from an admirer. She was embarrassed by the new attention too. It made her feel somehow worse about herself, she worried they saw it as a loud cry for attention. Everyone else around found her discomfort amusing as if her transformation had been inevitable. Draco even told her to choose an escort already. She just blushed and shook her head; she didn't know them. Kitty then gathered newspapers together and they went through the gossip columns. It was fun as most of the gossip where about Luries. Through one of these, Francis learnt that Will Harrold was laying low in his estate in Euria, although his father had come to the Cecils' to officially apologise on behalf of his son.

"He didn't apologise to you though," Kitty scowled.

Francis shrugged, "He's history."

She knew she should pick an escort soon; there was only a month to go until her birthday.