"No, never! You've asked me at least a dozen times....don't you appriciate what I do for you?" The Noble mounted his horse and sat glaring down at Armand.
"Sir, I understand your anger, but please, sir, all I ask is one night." Armand felt so humbled by this silly request.
"No, and that's final!" The Noble stated that with a swift kick to the horses side which lead him to a walk. The other guests snickered and gossiped between them, still staring at Armand. "Now, Moncharming, aren't there some papers you need to file?" He said while continuing off at a trot.
"That's Moncharmin, my father was French...as I've told you time and again..." Armand continued muttering as he watched the Noble trot off to his hunt. "And I hope the fox is a sly one, you old bastard!" Armand sighed and lowered his head as he walked back to the manor.
The rest of the aftenoon, Armand Moncharmin continued to work on his papers, constantly aranging the Noble's finances for the upcoming ball to be held at the castle. He took a moment and streched out his arms. He picked up the news paper article and began reading it again, although at this point he could probably quote it. He set it down and leaned back in his chair, thinking. How could he ever get off for one night? Armand began working for the Noble right out of college and was payed handsomely. One would almost envy Armand for the salary he recieved, but once one saw the hours and pressure he worked under, one would soon understand the reason for such an exhuberent sum. Armand worked from sun up to sun down, and even late into the night. He kept a beautiful home about ten minutes from the manor, but didn't frequent it because of work. He was forced into wearing glasses by the vast amount of reading required. The years of toil under this pressure had lent Armand to the habit of over eating. One would look at Armand and say "Yes, he must get paid a lot...he eats very well." He had put on something in the order of 3 stones, which was alot for a man of his height. So, after putting on the weight, slaving over the Noble's papers and working diligently for years, he thought that he deserved one night off. Armand stood and approached the small window which was the only light to his room. He quickly spotted the Noble riding over the hill and coming towards the castle. Armand's eyes filled with tears as he clentched his fists in rage. He watched as the farm hand took the horse. With one quick movement he was out his door and heading towards the drawing room where he knew the Noble would retire with his aquaintances. Armand met the Noble with an angry stare.
"Oh, it's you again...yes, what is it?" The Noble took a cup of wine and sat in his seat which faced the fire. Armand stood there a moment trying to find his voice through the tears.
"Sir, I have worked for you since the moment I recieved my college degree." That sentence had no effect on the Noble who sat smiling at his guests."I have worked for you during that depression when almost everyone quit." The Noble's neck snapped around to glare at Armand who matched his angry stare. The Noble looked to his guests nervously, hoping they didn't pay any attention to Armand. "I have even worked for you ever Christmas, sacrificing any love life that I could have had..." He staggard a little as his mind drifted to the article in the paper.
"Yes, I am aware of that thank you. If it's a raise in pay which you seak, you have already recieved one." The Noble spat out smugly as he handed more papers to Armand who remained speechless for a moment then gathered the papers compliantly.
"Indeed I thank you, sir, but I still wanted to ask for that one night off. I will come in the morning, even earlier in order to get everything done. Please, sir, all I ask is one day." Armand looked at him with pleading eyes.
"My answer....is no!" The Noble sneered. Armand recieved a burst of self confidence.
"Then, sir, I will have to give you my resignation." The Noble turned in his chair and faced Armand with wild eyes.
"You dare defy me after I went to a lot of trouble to give you this raise....this is the thanks I get." The Noble stood, looking down at Armand who just stood wide eyed with an open mouth.
"No, sir, I'm so sorry...one says foolish things, you know? I will return to my work now. I'm trully sorry for the inconvienence." Armand lowered his gaze the entire time he spoke, and tucked the papers under his arm. He bowed humbly, first to the guest and then deeply to his master. He retreated to his small chamber to continue working.
Armand sat heavily in his chair and placed his head in his hands. 'What is to become of a life like this?' He thought as he began to cry.
The day which Armand had requested off had quickly arrived. He went to work as he was told and carried a meloncoly look on his face for the duration of the day. The hours ticked by, and with each chime of the Mahogany clock, Armand's hope sank deeper. Finally, the minute arrived that would have sent Armand's heart, maybe even his soul, flying, with golden wings to heaven. He picked up some more papers and began the next days work in order to keep himself busy and his mind from drifting but alas, it couldn't. He spent most of the time thinking of her. Her dark eyes, the rosy lips which beconed his kiss. Her firm young body just waiting, wanting his embrace. He once again picked up the article, which had now accumulated into articles. The paper treasured the thought of her coming. Armand's eyes became heavy and he soon fell to a deep sleep with many wonderful dreams of her.
After many hours, the Noble was walking by Armand's room and he decided to see how he was doing financially. He opened the door to find Armand asleep on the desk. The Noble kicked Armand's chair in order to wake him. Armand jumped with a start at the Noble towering above him. Armand quickly replaced his glasses and stood to greet the Noble.
"I'm sorry, sir, I must have just fallen asleep quite by accident." Armand stammered with his gaze lowered to the floor.
"Oh, shut up. I don't want to hear your excuses. Go home. You are done for the day." Armand was abashed by this, but then suddenly delighted. He examined the clock and found he still had time to make it. He grabbed his coat and hat and summoned the carriage. Armand thought he would never arrive at the opera house. Finally, he did. Running, which was an interesting sight for a man of his weight, he made it to the enterance. He walked through the doors and still panting, made it up the steps in record time. He looked through the rows of people to the stage and thought he caught a glimpse of her raidiant beauty, but alas it was a different girl. He snatched up the playbill of the man seated in the row next to him. He had forgotten his glasses, so squinting fervently he read the words The role of Marguerite will be played by.... SHE WASN'T HERE! Armand thought he would go mad. He imediately went to the box office who told him that she had fallen ill and returned to Paris, but she was here for a few hours that morning. Armand, dismayed, sent for a carraige, but decided to walk home. It had been raining by this point, but he cared not. The only woman he loved was gone. He read the article again. Even without his glasses he could understand the print. "Beautiful Diva Charlotta Guidicelli to come to London for one show only." Armand's eyes filled with tears. How he loved her, but then, how he missed her. He never had the chance to meet her. He could still remember the morning he recieved this Heaven sent message which created a tension at work, and made it a night of Hell...
He had just awoke and was sipping the freshly made tea when he picked up the paper and read the title. At first he thought his eyes had decieved him, but after reading the article over and over he was convinced his love Charlotta was coming to London.
Armand was devistated that once again he could have met her, but the tides turned against him. She was the only reason why he even liked opera. He continued to play the moment he first saw her over in his mind. He remembered the beautiful opera house, even the moment when he first caught a glimpse of her slim firm body dancing onto the stage. He could even recount the rich warm notes she produced from her slim, white neck. Armand's mind drifted to his collegue Firmin Richard. He hadn't talked to him in years, in fact in a decade. Armand went to his home and immediately wrote his dearest friend a letter. He sealed it and retired to his chamber for some well deserved dreams.