Page 85 of Love Beneath the Guillotine
“I do. Come. This is going to be amazing.” With that, Henry flung the door open, and dropped Léon’s hand only a fraction of a second before the innkeeper looked up.
Henry stepped up to the counter. “We’d like two rooms, please. Just for the day. We’ll be going to Paris to meet his wife this evening.”
“Yes, my wife, who I’m married to,” Léon said, to some stern eyes from Henry. He was beginning to like that jealous look. “I can’t wait to see her again.”
With a sharp tone that made Léon’s heart beat hard, Henry asked, “Do you have anything available?”
“I’m afraid…” The man ran his fingers down the long page of a large book, searching over the entries. “I have only one room left.”
“We’ll take it,” said Henry.
“But there is a problem,” said the man.
“What problem can there be?” asked Léon, a desperately eager edge to his voice.
“Well…” said the man, ever so slowly—so slowly both Henry and Léon wanted to shout at him. “The thing is… there is… only… one bed…”
“Oh no,” Henry replied, trying to suppress the quiver of a laugh in his voice.
“That’s terrible,” said Léon, trying to smother his smile.
“But if we have to make do…” started Henry.
“Then we will simply have to make do,” Léon finished.
“Your wife managed fine with her friend,” the man offered. “The boy fit on the couch, but two men like you…”
“Quite big,” said Henry, on a smirk.
Léon, on a blush, replied, “I’ll have to find a way to make you fit.”
“I’ll fit all right,” Henry murmured deeply.
On feeling the press of his knee, Léon was about ready to drop to the floor and take him right then and there.
Coolly, Henry signed for the room, then asked, “And can you please send up a wash basin? With… so much water. A lot of water. Very hot. And an extra lamp with fresh oil. I have some work to do.”
Léon gave him a sideways glance. “And food,” he said, his stomach rumbling. “Um… anything.”
Henry latched on. “Bread and meat?—”
“And wine!” added Léon.
“Wine,” agreed Henry, “and also… butter. Please.” He looked across at Léon, barely able to drag his eyes from the flushed cheeks and parted lips that took his meaning. “We’ll need a lot of butter. I want the biggest piece of butter imaginable.” For the sake of decency he added, “I eat it like cheese.”
“I also eat it like cheese,” Léon threw in. “So, even more butter again, for me.”
“You’ll need a lot of butter,” Henry said.
Léon let out an undignified squeak, then clamped his lips shut.
The man stared at the two of them for a very long moment, then, “Oh! I almost forgot. Your wife left your bags here. She said you would forward them on. Shall I bring them up?”
“My clothes!” Henry just about wept in sheer happiness. “My actual clothes!” He turned to Léon, fingers closing fast into fists as he attempted to avoid taking his hands. “You see? Fate is finally beginning to smile on us.”
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BUTTER MAKE THE MOST OF IT
