Jules smiled again. "Yes! It is my favorite place to go when my family visits Paris, which is not all that often, I shall admit, but that doesn't change my mind." he bounced on his heels a little bit. "Come, let's go to the carriage and go to the opera." he said, and led the way out of the museum.
Jack was quiet, thinking.
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Francis’s lips curled into an excited smile. He glanced over at Jack, wondering what the boy was thinking about. He didn’t think about it for too long before he rolled back his shoulders more formally. His spirits lifted at the possibility of a Jules becoming a new friend. Perhaps someone to write to while on the tour—they did seem to share similar interests already. Local artists, opera houses and architecture…
Jack took a deep breath, and got into the coach, sitting beside Jules. He sat close enough that his thigh brushed against Jules'. He smiled slightly.
Jules swallowed a little, and leaned forward to direct the Coachman where to go, then settling back down.
Elizabeth adjusted her skirts after she sat down, making sure that there was room for Francis to sit.
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Francis sat down beside Elizabeth once again. Once settled, and adjusting his tailcoat, he placed his hands politely in his lap. He looked between Jules and Jack, then turned his attention to Elizabeth. “What did you like most about the museum, Miss Montague?” He attempted you make conversation.
Elizabeth gave a quick smile. "I should have enjoyed it a lot more if I could have breathed properly." She replied wryly. "But it was lovely." Her hands were folded in her lap, resting lightly on her skirt.
Jack was quiet, studying Jules from the corner of his eye. A faint smirk decorated his lips as he looked at the French boy.
Jules was quiet, looking out the window and not seeming to notice Jack.
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Francis looked confused for a moment. He cocked his head, furrowing an eyebrow down in thought. Recognition flashed across his face as he remembered women wore corsets. “Oh! Yes, I bet,” he chuckled a little bit. “I had a lovely time as well.”
Elizabeth nodded a little. "That's good." She replied with a faint smile. She took in a breath, and wrinkled her nose a little as the corset jabbed into her. She sighed.
Jack was silent, looking out the window again.
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Francis looked at Elizabeth with some concern. Women had it rough, he sympathized. He couldn’t imagine having to wear underclothing so constricting that it bore into your torso, or restricted breathing. It all just sounded like a terrible level of purgatory. He winced at the thought. “Indeed…” he answered, just to say something.
Elizabeth pressed a hand to her stomach, closing her eyes for a moment. Maybe when they reached the Opera, she would use the parlor room and loosen the corset strings. Just a little bit. Not enough to be innapropriate, just enough to be a little more comfortable.
Jack glanced over at them, and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles.
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Francis glanced back at Jack curiously, his brow raised as if to ask what he was thinking. He kept his hands clasped in his lap, and his feet pressed together. His assumption from last night was correct, that he would just go right back to acting the way he did before. He didn’t know what else he was expecting. But he did appreciate Jack wasn’t hitting on him anymore, poor Jules was taking the brunt of it.
Jack let out a quick breath, and looked over at Jules. "So. Your father thinks the theater is a den of sodomy and miscreants. Do you share that opinion?"
Jules blinked, looking at Jack in confusion. "I, er…I do not understand." He said slowly.
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Francis watched with interest. He thought he already heard Jules’ opinion of the theater earlier, but that was more alluded to instead of a direct opinion. He was curious as to what Jules would say when he was directly asked. He absently tapped his thumb on his wrist. Interesting conversation…
Jack frowned a little. "Do you share your father's disdain for the theater and the types it attracts? You know… sodomites and miscreants." He asked, a smirk flashing over his face.
Jules tipped his head to one side. "I…am not sure." He replied after a moment. "What does it matter what I think of it?"
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Francis leaned forward, squinting. He wanted to say something, but bit his tongue. He remembered the agreement he made with Jack, to stay about of his business. Instead, he answered silently. It matters to him. He couldn’t tell if Jack was asking because he really cared, or if he was asking because he wanted to get in Jules’ bed.
Jack shrugged. "I mean…you gotta make your own decisions about what you think, right?" He replied with another smile. "Or would you rather just believe whatever you're told?"
Jules blinked , slowly. "Well, I…I am not sure." He replied after a moment.
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“I think it just depends on the person,” Francis finally gave his input, tentatively at first. He filtered his words through the religion he grew up with. And even then, the church members might aggressively disagree. “Some of those that the theater attracts might be m intending to do harm, like assault. Others might have a purer heart and they’re just …misguided. I don’t have any disdain for those people, they’ve done nothing wrong. That’s just my opinion.” He rubbed his face.
Elizabeth pressed her lips into a thin line. "Sodomy is not a simple case of "misguidance", Francis." she said slowly, not looking at any of the boys. "If that is what you are speaking of."
Jack's eyes narrowed. "This conversation does not involve you, sister." he said crisply. "Now please, let us gentleman talk." his eyes flashed for a moment. He cast a glance at Francis for a moment, then at Jules again.
Jules flushed slightly, linking his hands together. "Well, I…I do not have an opinion in this matter."
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Francis shot a glare at Jack, a brief flash of hot anger made his in hers curl into hands in his lap. “Leave her alone, Montague. Just let her speak,” he snapped, quieter than someone with more confidence would be. He didn’t agree with Elizabeth, not at all. But who was Jack to judge social expectations when he himself was practically the opposite of one?
Jack glared at Francis for a moment. "Aw piss off, Olivier. Ladies are supposed to be seen and not heard, because once they start talking you don't like them anymore." he replied coldly.
Elizabeth pressed her lips into a thin line, and looked pointedly out the window, her hands clenching into fists for just a moment, then relaxing again to lay flat on her lap.
Jules cleared his throat awkwardly, looking out the window as well.
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Francis pursed his lips and he set his jaw tautly, perturbedly. “Many could say the same about you,” he finally replied in a flat tone. The corner of his eyes crinkled as if he were smiling, but it was more like a sneer. It didn’t make sense, how did Jack get so judgmental so quickly? His fingernails pressed painfully into his palms.
"Nah, just prissy little pussies that have their heads up their asses." Jack replied, though it was almost more of a snarl. He didn't know why he was being like this. He didn't know. "Most people I meet rather like me."
Jules looked awkward and embarrassed, eyes fixed out the window.
Elizabeth's lips tightened, and she remained silent.
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Francis’ mouth hung agape, “What’s your problem?” He crinkled his nose angrily. Where was this coming from? “And watch your mouth, there’s a lady present.” He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees.
"I have a lot of problems, Francis. Such as the complete stranger my father decided needed to come on my tour with me." Jack stood up, opened the door of the carriage, and stepped out, stumbling a bit since the thing was still moving. He knew he was being an ass, and a stupid one at that.
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Francis blinked widely, watching him leave. Getting out of a moving carriage was a bit extreme, and stupid. He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to be on this tour anymore than Jack wanted him to be here. But was that the first time Jack had called him by his first name?
Jules was wide-eyed and embarrassed. "I…er…arrêtez l'entraîneur!" He called. The coach lurched to a sudden stop, and Jules stuck his head out the window. "Monsieur Montague, please come back. It is not safe to roam the streets alone."
Jack looked up, his blond hair a mess. "I don't want to stay where I'm not wanted, Jules. So I'll find someone who does."
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Francis looked down, struggling. He didn’t want Jack to be in danger, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be near Jack either. He kept his arms fairly crossed, “I’m sure he knows his way back. He’s only going to be worse if we force him to come with us,” he sighed. He tapped his finger against his arm in annoyance.
Jules bit his lip. "I cannot just let you roam the city, monsieur. Please, come with us. My father would not like it if I left you here."
Jack grimaced, crossing his arms tightly. "I don't want to." He replied, almost petulantly.
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Francis let out an audible sigh. “You don’t want to?” He looked out the window to Jack. He was just being childish, and it got on his nerves. But he wasn’t one to be very stern, especially when he was conflicted. “Please get in the carriage, for Jules. I’ll be quiet.”
Jack grimaced a little bit. He knew that Francis was treating him like a child throwing a tantrum. He knew that was what he was acting like, too. He swallowed, and then finally climbed back into the carriage, crossing his arms and looking at the ceiling.
Jules let out a quick breath. "Thank you, monsieur." He said softly. He leaned forward, calling to the carriage driver. "Tu devrais y aller maintenant!"
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Like he said, Francis was quiet after Jack climbed back in. He let his arms uncross and fall back into his lap. He gave Jack a grateful look, but it was still crossed with annoyance. He bit his tongue. Not to keep himself from talking, he wasn’t even sure what he would say if he wanted to. A part of him wished Jack wouldn’t have gotten in the carriage, but it would have caused more trouble than it was worth.
