The Greatest Thing

Come What May

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Christian spent his time practicing his proposal with Toulouse.

"Mon ami, knowing you, you will practice this speech a thousand times, but when you go to say it to her, you'll end up improvising," Toulouse teased.

"Toulouse, this is serious business. I can't propose to the most wonderful woman in the world and not have it be as wonderful as she deserves," he said adamantly.

"You are proposing out of love, no?" Toulouse asked.

"Well, yes, of course. That's the only reason I would ever propose," he replied.

"Then it is already wonderful," Toulouse winked. "Now, get out of here. I have someone coming over."

Christian shook his head and went downstairs to his own apartment, knocking first. "Is it safe to come in?"

"If you're asking if I've finished wrapping your gift yet, then yes," Estelle chuckled.

Christian grinned and walked in, admiring the brightly wrapped box sitting above the fireplace. "What do you wish to do today?"

"I have to run a few errands in town. Annalise usually sends me a telegram today, so I wish to go pick it up from the office before they close for the holiday. I shouldn't be long, though," she replied, tugging on her coat. Gently, she tipped up to kiss his cheek.

"Are you sure you'll be warm enough in that?" Christian asked before picking up a scrap of fabric and wrapping it around her neck. "Here, take my scarf."

"Thank you, Love. I'll be back soon," she blushed, heading out into the cold December morning.

The walk to the telegraph office wasn't a far one, but she liked to take her time and appreciate Paris coated in gently falling snow. At least, until that snow turned to brown slush from the heavy foot traffic in Montmartre. Upon reaching the office, the telegraph operator who had come to know her quite well over the past few months grimaced as he handed her the telegram.

"I don't enjoy that look, Louis," she teased.

"Mademoiselle, if you read your letter from your friend, you would understand why," he sighed.

Estelle tilted her head at him, and then opened the letter. Her heart dropped to her stomach. Her father was here in Paris with Mary, looking for her. Annalise had included the hotel they were staying at. The jig was up.

"Merry Christmas, Mademoiselle Devereux," he murmured.

"Merry Christmas, Louis," Estelle replied, all mirth gone. She walked back out into the cold before catching a carriage to the hotel. Although holidays were usually spent with one's family, this was one reunion that Estelle was not looking forward to.

The driver helped her out of the carriage, and she stared up at the hotel with dread. Taking a deep breath and letting the air chill her lungs, she steeled herself to walk right up to the front desk and ask for their room number.

"Well, I knew this would catch up with me sooner or later," she sighed as she knocked on their hotel room door.

In a moment, the door was thrown open by her sister who quickly pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, sister. I tried to convince him not to come, but you know how he is when he's in a mood," she quickly whispered.

Estelle swallowed and stepped into the room, spying her father staring out the window with his back towards her. "Merry Christmas, Father."

"Father?" he asked. "Is that what you call the man who raised you to know better? The man who's trust you betrayed?" He turned to look at her. "What were you thinking?"