![]() It was devilishly comfortable there in front of the fire and under the warm quilt. With a graceful turn she managed to plump herself right in the middle of the extra-wide space, and flung the duvet over her. She took the book-and the one next to it, for later-and the quilt, still on the floor, over to where the couches were set up. Was there no end to the wonders of this enchanted castle? There were many Jack stories in this one, she realized with a skipped heartbeat. She pulled out a likely looking leather-bound and portfolio-sized book with gold lettering on its spine, and lovely-if monotone-engraved illustrations on almost every page. Jack was an English fairy tale…the shelf for stories from that part of the world fairly sagged under their weight. There was a pretty woven and quilted hot pad on it, which they carefully arranged themselves on like a pile of puppies bedding down for the night.īelle shook her head and stepped lightly over to where she thought she remembered the Myths and Legends of the World section was. Giggling and making little tinkling noises on the floor, the teacups scurried over to the marble-topped occasional table. ![]() Just…try to settle down and be quiet, d’accord?” Even if Chip didn’t know exactly what he was talking about…even if he was just using it as an excuse… My papa died.”īelle felt her heart physically wrench. What a peculiar scene-as white as eggs, all straining at her in ways porcelain just shouldn’t. Please?”īelle looked at the little creatures. With a gentle swoosh of her hands, she bade the army of teacups go. She wondered what Père Colbert would say about such a union. “We’ve only just met,” Belle managed, deciding it was the most politic thing to say. Loudly.Ī couple of the other teacups snickered and clicked their handles together. “Mama said you would like it, but she’s busy. “Thank you,” Belle said politely, picking up the quilt. They didn’t look tired or drawn from the funeral then again, they were teacups. They dragged the duvet from the study with them-not noticing, in their enthusiasm, that it had unfolded and spilled out behind them. Just as he dragged Lumière out the door, Chip and a number of his little cup friends came scooting in, in a hastily arranged phalanx. ![]() “Thank you, your grace,” Cogsworth said swiftly, with a bow. Lumière’s flames waggled for a moment perhaps it was his equivalent of blinking in surprise. Please open the wine cellar, with my compliments.” A fitting end for a man who enjoyed a good time.” ![]() “We are arranging a little wake for the staff,” Lumière explained. ![]()
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