Once Upon A Train

[Richard O'Shee]

Rich absently nodded; Maggie was right, Adaline wouldn't always be so young...she would be turning sixteen this year, if his math and memory served correctly. Still. He wasn't sure about subjecting her to the horrors that could be the long sea-crossing boat adventures, plus traveling this far inland with what must be several different trains. Or so he figured; he'd been here since before the train, so he wasn't quite sure how many connections would have had to be made, perhaps he should ask Maggie sometime. How she would recommend such a journey for a young lady of a delicate manner, too, and if she would have any cautions for him to pass on to the lass.

Provided her mother would allow her the freedom of travel. Him being so long and far removed for quite some time now, he did not think his step-mother would still carry any spite regarding Richard himself, but one could never be overly sure of such matters. However, now, Maggie's words had carried two meanings for this young man, and now the latter meaning had occurred and was standing out – he had missed several years of her young life, now. Her personality and values, he knew from letters, may not have changed all together much in those years...but as for her physical appearance, he knew nothing on this account.

Casting these depressing thoughts aside, Rich glanced at Maggie and realized she'd been silent for this time. With a somewhat heavy heart, he was beginning to think she had no interest in sharing anything of import with him as to their future felicity, or trust, and her trust was going to be quite a hard thing to win, he could see already. He would have a challenge ahead of him, but he was most definitely up for it. Then, the next thing he knew, she was turning to him with a blank expression, and was telling him of her mother. He blinked, turning to look more fully upon her, his expression somber but showing his due, even intent, interest.

He was silent for a moment, looking away himself, but then he brought his free hand around to pat her gloved one, which was still entwined with his opposite arm. "Je ne pouvais pas l'imaginer, de perdre une mère ainsi que d'un frère ... Je suis vraiment désolé pour votre perte." I could not imagine, losing a mother as well as a brother...I am truly sorry for your loss. He spoke softly, warmly, and stole a glance her way but did not otherwise lift up his head.

Not but a moment or two after this, Richard brought them to a stop, right in front of the boarding house. Looking to the sign up above the door, Rich turned to smile at Maggie. "Ici nous sommes," Here we are,He spoke up, then hesitated only a second or two before stepping forward to hold the door, saying as he did, and with a smile edging on playful as well as a tip of his hat, "les dames d'abord." ladies first.

[Maggie De'Chevalier]

Everyone gave sympathy. Ever since the deaths of her mother and brother, former friends and neighbors had offered profuse condolences. But they had done nothing. They said they were sorry for the De'Chevalier losses, but they turned their backs in the next moment. As cholera swept the city, people cared more about saving themselves than saving each other. Even Captain Langley, her fiance at the time, had declared his sympathy...right before abandoning her. What good was a simple, "I'm sorry," when it was not followed by some sort of action?

For this reason, Maggie did not say a word in response. She returned her expressionless gaze to the horizon. A few steps later, they had reached the boarding house. She cast a quick glance from ground to roof. The building was neat and well-kept. While it was not luxurious by any means, it seemed to be a comfortable place.

Richard opened the door before her, which was a kind gesture. Maggie nodded with a slight smirk to her lips and stepped inside. Merci. With shoulders back and chin held high, she walked forward towards the center of the room. It seemed to be a sort of lobby or reception room. A long desk counter was nestled against one wall. A larger room filled with tables and chairs was visible just around the corner. A dining room. How would the food be? Maggie hoped it was at least edible, for she hadn't the slightest idea how to cook.

C'est très agréable, she said at last, turning over her shoulder to cast a smile at Richard. It is lovely. As far as cleanliness went, this place was far preferable to some of the train compartments on which she had ridden. It was quaint and tidy. Anyway, she would only be here for a short time if all went well.

[Richard O'Shee]

Her silence was taken by this blond gent as something more of a stiff upper lip, rather than a defense caused by his hollow words. If he'd have known her inward thoughts just that moment, her true feelings regarding the uselessness of mere words, he may have tried to follow up with something a little more tangible in offering his sympathies, if in his current nervous state of mind such a thing could even be thought of. As it was, however, he did not read any such inclinations even in her body language; see, this gent could be rather thick-headed at the worst of times. Such as...now, perhaps.

Richard did take notice of her reaction upon first setting eyes on the boarding house. He did not read contempt there, which was a good thing. Or else, she was exceedingly good at hiding it. Rich took a few steps forward, following the woman into the lobby of the boarding house, allowing the door to fall shut behind him. He was now holding his hat in his hands, looking on a little nervously as Maggie stood there, in the center of the room, examining her new surroundings. Then she sent a smile towards him over her shoulder, commenting on how lovely the place was, and Rich looked visibly relieved. A smile quickly found its way upon his own lips.

"Good." He said aloud, forgetting himself for a moment, before blinking wide and breifly shaking his head, smiling a little sheepishly as he quickly corrected with, "Ah, bon." He now walked forward and continued with, "Mettons-nous votre disposition une salle, allons-nous?" Let's get you a room, shall we? Then, as he stepped up to the counter against the one wall, he turned back towards her and asked, "Comment pensez-vous de quatre nuits?" How do you think of four nights? By that time surely, he reasoned, they would know whether this could work or not...and from that point, could then make further arrangements, for whichever way it would go. Though, he truly did hope and wish for their arrangements in particular to work out for the better.