This Burning Desire by Joslinne Morgan (the gingerbread man read aloud TXT) 📖

/> "Get out," she whispered, still gazing in horror at his display. "Please, go away, and leave me alone!" her head sank into her hands. No, this wasn't what she expected at all … did he truly expect for her to reply kindly?

"You are all I dream of!" he bit back his thin bottom lip. "My sleep is tortured by visions of you, such beautiful eyes… they haunt me, day and night, and will grant me no respite. It is not love for which I beg, not in the least! My love for you is enough. I only ask that you let me be near you, that you let me bask in the glow of your presence, that you tolerate an old man's affections. Pity me, my Esmeralda, oh, pity me!" he put a hand to his head, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. She couldn't quite believe it, herself. He resisted the urge to drop to his knees and grasp her skirt in a most degrading manner. He had begged with her enough, and it was with overwhelming despair that he realized his words were not having their desired affect.

"I cannot look at you," she said slowly. "With anything less than hatred. You have done all manner of things to me, Dom Claude Frollo, which I cannot forgive you for. You have mercilessly persecuted my people who have done nothing but have had the misfortune to be born with a poor pedigree. Those of us who are thieves and robbers steal bread so that our families can live, because you have denied us all rights to earn an honest living."

"I cannot help the past," he replied weakly.

"But you will do it again," she told him. "And you won't stop, even for me. It is in your nature, and your religion. You hate us; you will stop at nothing until we cease to exist. It's only a matter of time, I imagine, before you have me dangling from the end of a noose."

"No, not you." He shook his head. "Never you."

"You're a hypocrite, among other things. Look it up in the Bible, and I'm sure you can find something against that. Now, please, just go, and leave me alone!"

Frollo drew in a shaky breath. He would not express his despair, not in front of her. He would retreat to the privacy of his chambers before doing so. Gathering his dignity, and suddenly straightening himself, Frollo dashed the one annoying tear that had managed to escape quickly away. He swallowed, and said, "Very well. I have offered my life to you, gypsy, and I have received only your hatred. You detest me, and I do not blame you. But know this – I love you – and," a bit of his former venom came creeping back into his words. "I will have you, one way, or another."

Esmeralda's eyes widened at the sudden change. The man was volatile as hell, his transition from mood to mood were as irksome as they were frightening.

"I will not change my mind," she warned him.

"You don't have to," he said, quite matter-of-factly. "When mine is already made up."

Chapter Twelve: To Bargain with One's Soul

"NO?" Jehan practically screamed in despair.

"No," Frollo confirmed, and went back to his paperwork.

"How can you?" Jehan's covered his face with his hands, and the knot in his stomach was tighter than ever.

"This is the perfect lesson to take you off gambling," the judge dipped the tip of his quill pen into the inkwell. "You must come up with the money yourself, and that is that. I refuse to help you."

"Claude, Claude!" Jehan sank to his knees, all dignity cast to the side. "Please, I beg of you! I cannot come up with such a sum by the end of the week! Lend me the money, please, and I will pay you back in full! I swear it!"

Frollo shot his younger brother a disapproving look. "Jehan, what have I told you about –"

"CLAUDE!"

"You got yourself into this, and I've pulled you from enough scrapes. It is time you became a man, and reap what you have sowed."

"I hate you," threatened Jehan.

"So be it then," Frollo replied, nonchalantly.

"Please!" he was back to pleading. "If there is any mercy in you!"

"You are being ridiculous," Frollo admonished. "Get off the floor."

"I refuse to do so," Jehan replied, moaning. "If you can't give me the money, Claude, then I will take my own life!"

"You will do no such foolish thing," Frollo replied, darkly. "You'll burn in Hell for such a deed."

"Better than having your throat stabbed by a gypsy knife, I'm sure!"

"Gypsy?" Frollo's head snapped up, and instantly Jehan regretted his words. He had said the wrong thing. "Jehan, my dear brother, have you been associating with those vile heathens?"

"Perhaps," Jehan swallowed, shrinking back. "Maybe? Only once!"

"Jehan," Frollo stood, shoving his chair back so harshly that it fell over. He reached out and grasped his brother by the collar, dragging him forward and winding the cloth of his brother's collar tightly around his hand – choking his brother efficiently. "You will tell me everything you know about this gypsy. You will tell me everything that occurred in this interaction. And you will tell me within the next five minutes."

"I can't do that!" Jehan gasped. "He will KILL me!"

"I will kill you!" Frollo growled. "If you do not tell me!"

Jehan whimpered, and clutched at his brother's hands. "Release me, I can't breathe…"

Frollo's glare intensified. He loosened his grip, but not much, and Jehan held no doubt that his brother would carry out his claim.

"It was just a bet! I saw no harm in it at the time! But he tricked me, the filthy bastard tricked me, and I lost, ended up owing him a large sum of money. And if I don't pay him back, he's going to take it from my blood!"

"What is his name?" Frollo demanded.

"I don't know," Jehan insisted. "Honest to God, Claude, I have no idea of the man's name! He must have told be, but I was too drunk to remember!"

Disgusted, Frollo released his brother and gave him a shove towards the ground. He stood and rubbed his fingers together in deep thought, his frown thunderous and his eyes burning with rage.

"You are a disgrace," he snarled. "I hope you realize that."

"What are you going to do?" Jehan asked, fearful of the answer.

"Me, brother? I am going to do nothing. You, on the other hand, are going to find out this gypsy's name, and then you are going to lead me straight to him."

"Please don't tell me you're still obsessed over that Court of Miracles idea," Jehan sighed.

"I am in an ill mood, Jehan." Frollo warned. "You are going to go to this heathen and discover his name. I advise you to do as soon as possible."

"I shall," Jehan replied, recovering from the shock of witnessing his brother's temper. "I'll go now."

"Report back to me," Frollo instantly regained his composure, and returned to his desk. "I expect to hear from you within the hour."

~*~*~*~*~

Jehan emerged from his brother's study, slamming the door on his way out. Fear and fury were both written clearly on his face. Of course, fury that his brother refused to aid him in any way, and fear, because he knew that the gypsy would not be very pleased with his failure to acquire the promised payment.

He made his way towards the front doors of the Palace of Justice, wondering just exactly how he was supposed to even find the gypsy in the first place…

Mid-thought, out of nowhere a gloved hand appeared and clamped tightly around his mouth, shoving him against the Palace wall. The cold steel edge of a blade found its way to his throat, and before he knew it, the shaded face of his captor loomed over him. It was the gypsy.

"'Tis a pity," the gypsy spoke in hushed tones. "That you won't be able to repay your debt. I did give you fair chance; however, you should have gone to your brother sooner. Of course, now, I can't exactly let you go back to him at all, can I? We can't have you spilling my identity to him."

Jehan's eyes widened. How did the bastard even know that?

The gypsy's smile widened, as if reading Jehan's thoughts.

"I told you, I am all over Paris." He said. "However, I'm afraid that now it is time to bid you au revoir."

"Wait!" Jehan cried desperately, shoving the gypsy's hand away from his mouth seconds before the blade struck home.

"Last words?" the gypsy held back only for a moment.

"You don't have to kill me! You can still get your money back!"

Sighing, the gypsy waited patiently for his prisoner to continue.

"My brother can pay ransom…" Jehan suggested, squirming, eyeing the gypsy in hopes the man was buying it.

"That he can," the gypsy agreed. "And you can prove a most useful bargaining chip. I'm afraid, however, that that requires a little kidnapping on my end."

"Better than death," Jehan gasped.

"I'm glad you're going to be reasonable about it," the gypsy replied, right before reversing his hold on the dagger, and clubbing Jehan over the head with the hilt. Jehan went limp in his arms, and Jean-Francis sighed, lifting the unconscious man up and slinging him over his shoulder. Jehan had been right on one thing, he would prove a useful bargaining chip against the judge. He was wrong in assuming that Jean-Francis was going to go after money ransom. No, he would horde his prisoner for a more dire situation. Should his life be on the line, he would strike a simple bargain with the judge. The life of a lowly gypsy for the release of his beloved brother. It made perfect sense.

Assuming, of course, that the minister had any family loyalties whatsoever. If he did not, and Jean-Francis ended up dead anyway… well, then Clopin would kill the boy, and the world would be rid of one less spoiled brat.

Chapter Thirteen: Conspiracy

"And who is this?" Jolie asked, moving away from the bed as Jean-Francis dropped his prisoner unceremoniously onto the floor.

"He's unconscious," he replied, moving away to give Jolie room to inspect. "His name is Jehan Frollo."

Jolie's head snapped up. "You mean-"

"Oui, younger brother to our one and only Minister of Justice."

"I can't believe what you have done," she moaned, standing and straightening the skimpy garment she wore. "Did all that time in prison teach you nothing? Should they discover you, you'll hang for this, and I with you!"

"But they won't discover him," Jean-Francis replied, managing to sound entirely sure of himself. "This is a brothel, the last place the good Minister would deign to look. They will scour the city for gypsy hideaways, and that includes the Court of Miracles. If we hide him anywhere else, he's bound to get found out, sooner or later."

"I think you're mad," Clopin replied from his corner of the room. "What do you intend to do with him, then?"

"Ransom," Jean-Francis said. "Well, in a way. Tonight I am going to make my move against Esmeralda. Whether or not I succeed will determine the next step. If I succeed, then I slip out before anyone