FicWad

One week had passed and Edward found himself at St. Pancras Railway Station, awaiting the arrival of his train, The Prince Albert Express. It had been decided by Monsieur Barbant, a colleague in Paris, and Dr. Edgecombe that he would take the nine o’clock train to Dover and from there he would catch a ferry to Calais, staying overnight in a local inn, and the following morning he would take the Fleche d’Or to Paris. He was a little apprehensive about going to Paris, but Monsieur Barbant had assured him that with him as his guide, everything would be fine. Mrs. Allen had also assured him that she would keep check on Miss Blythe and to act on his behalf with all the wedding preparations. The only thing Edward was truly worried about was Miss Blythe for he did not want to leave England not in her good graces and he feared she was still angry with him for not getting to go to Paris with him.
“Now Katherine my love, are you sure you’ll be alright until I return?” Edward was saying as he waited to get on the train.
“Oh Edward, of course I’ll be fine. I just wish I could go with you on your trip.” Miss Blythe said, not meeting his eyes. Edward sighed and glanced at Mrs. Allen.
“Keep watch over the house, Mrs. Allen. I shall write you both every other day.” Edward said quietly, embracing Mrs. Allen as Miss Blythe rolled her eyes. He then turned to Miss Blythe, grasped her hands and brought them to his lips.
“My dear Katherine,” he said as she shuddered at the feel of the warmth of his breath over her fingers, “I will miss you. You will always be on my mind as I hope I am on yours, my love. I love you very much and I will be counting down the days until I return from Paris.” With that, he placed a chaste kiss on her lips and brought her close to him, resting his chin on her hair.
“Edward dear, you know you’ll be on my mind. I love you too.” Miss Blythe whispered. Now it was Mrs. Allen’s turn to roll her eyes at the sickening scene before her. If it wasn’t for the sound of the train whistle and the conductor calling “All aboard,” she might’ve hung herself with her checked scarf.
“Now, Edward,” Mrs. Allen said, immediately switching back into mother mode and drawing Edward into a tight hug, “I want you to send me a telegram the instant you arrive in Paris, alright? Better yet, send me a telegram once you get to Dover, another telegram when you arrive in Calais, another before you leave for Paris and one once you arrive in Paris.”
“Don’t fret, Mrs. Allen, you know I will.” He said as she ruffled his brown locks. He gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek and then turned to face Miss Blythe once more.
“Katherine, are you sure you’ll be alright? I don’t want to leave London not in your good favour.” Edward said honestly causing Miss Blythe smiled and grasped his hands tenderly.
“Edward, you have my assurance that everything will be alright. Now go on before you miss your train.” Miss Blythe said, kissing him on the cheek. Edward smiled, glanced at Mrs. Allen and nodded before boarding the train.
Edward’s trip was uneventful as most journeys were; he arrived in Dover a little after one in the afternoon, and after sending a telegram to Mrs. Allen assuring he had arrived safely, he got himself a hot lunch at a small tavern called The White Cliff Inn. He passed the remaining hour in a small bookseller nestled between an apothecary and a bait shop. After browsing, he made his way to the docks where he boarded a small ferry entitled “The Queen Anne” which would carry him across the Channel to Calais. After arriving in Calais, he made his way to another inn (Hôtel de la Manche) where he spent the night before catching the ten-fifteen to Paris.
He greatly enjoyed his stay in Calais, the people were friendly, the inn was nice, and the food was enjoyable. Edward thought to himself that if all of France were like this one little town, he would love it here. With that form of thinking firmly implanted in his mind, he settled down in his seat upon the train and contented himself looking out the window at the passing countryside until he arrived at Gare du Nord in Paris.
Upon his arrival at the station, getting off at Platform 3, Edward was startled at how different the Paris train station was from the station at Calais. Where Calais was a quiet, sleepy little town, Paris could be compared as bustling, fast paced, and harried. Having no time to dwell on this, he quickly gathered his luggage, and set off to find his colleague, Monsieur Thierry Barbant. Edward did not have to look far, for as soon as he made it to the grand terminal, there was Monsieur Barbant, looking around anxiously for him.
“Monsieur Barbant!” Edward called, hoping Thierry could hear him over the commotion, “Monsieur Barbant! It is I, Edward!” He was in luck, for Monsieur Barbant came barreling towards him, grasping his hand and giving it a firm shake.
“Bonjour, Edward!” Monsieur Barbant was a tall, bespectacled, sturdy man, typical of French scholars at the time. His clear aquamarine eyes contrasted quite nicely with his neat auburn hair and his naturally ruddy cheeks; he could be a jolly fellow, willing to spend the evening cavorting in some tavern, drinking and singing loud songs to impress upon some barmaid and he could play the part of the scholar, burying his nose in volumes of Voltaire and Rousseau, passionate about teaching his students about the politics of the Ancien Regime. He was, in a sense, the ideal Frenchman.
“Good day, Monsieur Barbant. You are looking very well.” Edward said earnestly, hand still in Monsieur Barbant's firm grasp.
“Oui, oui, as are you, Edward, as are you. Tell me, how was your journey? Did you enjoy it or was it terrible? I know the station at Calais can be terribly bad, terribly noisy, just all around awful.” Monsieur Barbant continued, still shaking Edward's hand. Edward knew it were impossible to try and remove his hand from Monsieur's grasp for the Frenchman would only be encouraged to keep shaking.
“It was a most enjoyable trip, Thierry, I found it quite nice.” Edward said quietly.
“Well!” Monsieur Barbant beamed. “Perhaps we'll take a holiday to Calais soon, Edward.” Now it was Edward's time to smile, for Monsieur Barbant had finally released his hand.
“Come, Edward, I will take you to your apartment so you could get settled and then I will show you Paris!” Monsieur Barbant exclaimed, grabbing some of Edward's bags.
Thus the duo then began their journey into Paris with Monsieur Barbant leading the way and Edward, his trusting apostle. Monsieur Barbant led Edward to the entrance of Gare du Nord to hail a carriage to take them to Number 50 Rue d'Anges, in the heart of Paris. As the Monsieur was so kind to explain, the Universite de Paris was very close to this particular street; Number 50 was a small two-story house that would serve as Edward's residence for the duration of his stay. It was already furnished, Monsieur Barbant had seen to that personally to ensure that his dear friend would be comfortable in his new residence. The pair must have rode through the city for a good hour, as Monsieur Barbant had requested the scenic route to give Edward a good tour of the city before they arrived at Number 50 Rue d'Anges.
Rue d'Anges where Number 50 was located was near the University by four kilometers and a few streets over. It was on this street where a few modest houses, all similar to Number 50, several shops, a chemist's, a small tavern, and to the astonishment of the Parisians: a whorehouse, Le Chambre de Papillion, and a church, Notre Dame du Anges. It was because of this residential phenomenon that locals often referred to this particular street L'anges et Le Papillion. Edward should be so lucky, for his new home was right across from Le Papillion and next door to the Anges.
Upon arriving at his new home, Edward found that exterior Number 50 had a small strip of grass that would allow for a front garden and he was lucky in that he had a front porch in to which he could pass the twilight hours. The interior of the house was as modest as the exterior; no expensive, Lyonese furniture for this home, only carved furniture, a few simple rugs, some tin dishes in the cupboard, and secondhand bookshelf that Monsieur Barbant had managed to procure at an old curiosity shop. Upon heading up to the second floor, he discovered two bedrooms and a large bath. We shall not go into great detail about the bath or the lesser of the boudoirs, but we shall dwell on the bedroom that Edward made his own.
It was stated that the house was simple with no expensive furnishings, but there was one exception to this no frills house: the master bedroom. The room was draped in magnificent furnishings of gold and silver; a large wrought iron bed occupied the center of this magnificent boudoir, draped in the finest linens imported from Alexandria, goose-down mattress, a silk duvet of silver, and pillows of gold. Beautiful gold Parisian rugs covered the polished wood floor and the silk draperies of fine silvers shielded the windows. A large armchair, no doubt from the Alsace region, stood off to the side of a large set of French doors that opened to a balcony. Edward, in a sense, was stunned.
“Well,” Monsieur Barbant prompted, a large smile evident on his face, “what do you think? Magnificent, oui? I thought gold and silver would be a suitable choice for a room such as yours.”
“Well, it’s a very stately room, quite unlike any I've ever been in. Thank you, Thierry.” Edward said earnestly, moving over to the bed and running his hands over the silk duvet.
“Apsh! It was nothing!” Monsieur Barbant started, waving his hand, “I asked a friend of mine what she would suggest and I went from there.”
“But this...it must have cost you a fortune. Please do not go into debt on my account, Thierry.” Edward said quietly.
“Do not fret, Edward, I am not going into debt over this. Besides, I didn't have to use any of my francs, the university will be taking care of any expenses you might procure during your stay.” Monsieur Barbant explained, flicking his wrist.
“That's very generous of them Thierry. What have I done to amass so much kindness out of the University?” Edward asked and Monsieur Barbant snorted in laughter.
“What have you done? You showed up, that's what you did! Term starts in less than a week and we have no one to teach the fifty-seven Latin majors in the department!” Monsieur Barbant explained, giving a hearty laugh.
“I had no clue I was so necessary to the University. I am honored.” Edward said, smiling quietly. Monsieur Barbant smiled and clapped Edward on the back.
“It is no problem old friend! Now come, get you dressed in your good coat! I am going to take you out for a night you will never forget!”