Dreams of a Wounded Heart©
Chapter One: False Pretense
By Genevieve Lee
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Disclaimer: I do not own anything from "The Phantom of the Opera." But I am proud to say Madeleine is completely mine. This goes for the whole story.
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"Madeleine, will you please stop?" my grandmother asked irritably.
I released my bottom lip from the confines of my teeth and I looked up shyly through my eyelashes. "Sorry Grandmother," I mumbled quietly, looking back down at the food in front of me.
She looked nervously at me from across the table before turning to my parents. "Are you positive you cannot send her to finishing school for just one year before she is married?"
My father gave a dejected sigh as he leaned back comfortably in his chair. "For the last time Mother, no."
My mother looked up as well, including herself into the conversation. "We have been sending her to the opera house since she was ten to learn music and dance. She also learns great social skills there. Monsieur De'lorme will never know the difference."
I had always disliked our dinner affairs, but what I completely and utterly hated was when they talked about me as if I was not sitting right there listening, but they continuously did so. I just did my best to tune them out, and it worked most of the time. But as they had begun talking about my fiancé, I perked visibly at the mention of his name. I smiled sweetly at my father, doing my best to keep my expression clear from anything that would dissatisfy my family.
"Monsieur De'lorme? Yes, when do I get the honor of meeting my fiancé?" The words felt foreign on my tongue as I spoke them. I had never believed in arranged marriages and the words meet and fiancé in the same sentence sounded wrong, but I did not tell them this.
"Ah, yes. Monsieur De'lorme is coming here to celebrate the eve of Christmas with us in a week. You will meet then."
"A week?" my grandmother screeched.
"Yes, what of it?" my mother asked.
"She does not have a dress for the occasion!" she said as if it was obvious.
I creased my eyebrows slightly. "I have many dresses I could wear," I pointed out slowly.
"No, none of those will do! You need something special!"
I pressed my lips together and met my mother's eyes from across the table, neither of us saying anything. We both knew we could not afford to buy a brand new gown for one night, but neither of us wanted to tell her. But of course, my mother left it up to me, and as she was naming dress shops we would have to visit, I quietly spoke up.
"Grandmother, I do not believe we have the necessary funds to buy an exquisite gown right now," I said softly, waiting for her explosion.
It came with full force.
"You simply must have a stunning new dress when you meet him! To have anything else would be improper!"
I thought of my words carefully before answering her. "Yes, but perhaps we can add a little something to a gown I already have to make it look special and new. Perhaps a scarf or a ribbon?" I said, hoping to appease her.
"No, if you cannot afford it then I shall buy one for you myself! Come, we are going to the shops right now."
"But—" I glanced wearily out the windows, "—it is already dark!"
"It is no matter. No man will try to spoil your grandmother!"
I flinched at the use of the word "spoil" but decided to ignore it. I knew there would be no placating her until we went to the shops, so with a sigh I set my napkin delicately on my plate before rising. I took my shawl from our butler who had it waiting for me by the door and followed my grandmother out to the carriage that was being pulled around.
Yes, I bet you are quite confused right now as to why my family could not afford a gown for me and yet have maids, a butler, and our own personal carriage. My parents were obsessed with image, about looking rich and fashionable. They used all their money to build the façade or aristocracy while making sacrifices elsewhere, such as my brother's and my own education, things that did not matter to them. I know that my older brother had to work very hard to attend a university, where he was now. But in my position I believe it was quite the blessing not to be sent to finishing school where a lady's freedom was bound tighter than her corset.
But my parents were tired of playing rich. They wanted to be rich, to be included rightfully, and I was their way to that.
I had known ever since I was a child that I would be put into an arranged marriage and I would never have a season as other women in England did. I would never curtsey before the queen nor spend an entire summer at balls and teas finding the perfect man for me. No, my future husband had been hand picked by my father. We were engaged before we even met. As I grew up, I knew it was not completely normal to be forced into a marriage as I was, but it was sadly very common. I knew nothing about my fiancé, Monsieur Jason De'lorme, except that he was raised in England and had moved to France to attend a university he had just graduated from. I did not know what he looked like, what he enjoyed, or what his favorite food was. All I had to hold on to was a name.
My friends had always considered me a romantic. Ever since I was a child, I had lived in dreams. My dreams were of music, of a doting family, and of love. Ah, love; the thing that seemed to take first place of importance in my life. It seemed though that I would never find it. Everyone was too anxious to get me to do what he or she wanted.
Marry him Madeleine, oh, don't speak with her, she is a terrible person, that dress would look lovely on you, sweetheart, chew like you have a secret.
It is all I ever heard every single day. And finally at age seventeen I was beginning to tire of it. So instead of living in reality, I lived in a world of fantasies. A world where no one could tell me how to act or how to dress, who to love and who to detest. But I was sure then that worlds like that did not exist.
Everyday I would wake up with a hope that something new would happen that day. Something would occur that would change my life forever. Unfortunately, my life took the same boring routine everyday. To make everything easier, I just did what they asked. I lived at the Opera and performed my duties as a chorus girl, bringing in a little money for my parents. I did not argue when they arranged a marriage for me that will take place in less than a year. I listened when they told me what to do and I took all critiques with graceful silence.
That is where my life has led me. My life has not been what someone would call hard; I had never gone wanting for food or clothing, I just sometimes wished I could have a say in my own life. I knew this would never happen though, so I remained silent. I took everything with elegant indifference. In short, I was everything my parents had ever wanted me to be.
Deep down though, I knew I was someone completely different. Though, I did not say this. I tried to see the good in everyone, and I knew that is what is considered to be my tragic flaw. Everyone said it would eventually lead to my downfall. I was not wary of that though. I just waited for the day when I could show people who I truly was and hope to be accepted. Until then, I was doomed to remain the obedient Madeleine Annabel Taylor.
--
We made it to a department store an hour before it closed, and I was determined to find a dress and leave as quickly as possible. My grandmother promptly separated from me, not wasting any time before she attacked the racks with a fierce glint in her eyes. I rolled my own at her before I proceeded slowly to a rack on the opposite side of the isle. My hands touched the silk, satin, cotton, velvet, and many other materials of the different dresses. None pleased me. All were too extravagant looking, and most had jewels dripping off of them. If it were not that, the gown would be heavier than I was, or the pattern was something that hurt my eyes if I looked at it too long.
My grandmother had efficiently leashed a salesman, asking him questions about every gown she passed. They were pouring out of her mouth so fast that only half were correctly answered. The man's eyes bugled at her rapid pace of talking as they walked to another part of the store.
I looked away from them and my eyes landed on a mannequin that was wearing a very beautiful dress. I crept closer and fingered the silk softly. It was a gorgeous emerald green and very modest. The top was straight across and dripped a bit in the center, and the bodice was tight on the hips. At the waist, it fanned out elegantly and bunched up in different areas. Little jewels appeared in the center of the gathered material. The straps went across the shoulders, lying gracefully on the mannequin. It was beautiful.
My fingers urgently clutched the silk as I turned to a nearby saleswoman. "Excuse me? May I inquire the price to this particular gown?"
She walked closer and smiled. "That gown would look beautiful on you mademoiselle. It is eight hundred francs."
My heart dropped slowly as she answered. It was far too much to ask of my grandmother, so I smiled and thanked the woman before going over to where she was. She was holding a gown up for inspection. She saw me come up and she nearly exploded with excitement.
"Oh, Madeleine! You simply must try this one on!"
I bit my lip slowly as I inspected it. It was an ugly tan and maroon paisley, and the material bunched oddly on the bottom right side. It had large puffy sleeves that looked like giant bubbles of material. The bodice was loose except for where the fabric stretched over the bosom. It had a large bustle in the back, a style I had never particularly liked. I gave a light nod and took it from her, following the same saleswoman I had talked to earlier into the dressing room.
As she helped lace me up, she said, "I think you would look lovelier in the green one."
I gasped at a brutal tug to my corset strings, and after regaining my breath, replied. "Yes, I agree."
"There you are. All finished."
I opened the curtain to the dressing room and went out to the arrangement of mirrors. As predicted, the gown was anything but beautiful. It fit strangely everywhere, especially in the bodice. It was far too big and sagged. I held up the top of it with my fingers to keep everything covered.
"Grandmother, please do not make my buy this dress!" I begged, turning my back to the mirror to face her. I gestured grandly to the horrific paisley gown I was in before stealing a glance of myself in the mirror. I was usually neither an ungrateful nor picky person, but the gown I had on was completely hideous in style, cut, and pattern.
"Oh, but you look simply fantastic in it! Jason will love it!"
It irked me that she used his first name so loosely, as if they were old childhood chums. In reality, she was as unfamiliar with him as I was. I bit my bottom lip and grabbed the price tag to see how much it would cost. I craned my neck in order to see it to almost faint at the price. "Grandmother, this dress is so very expensive. If you are willing to pay this much for a dress, perhaps—"
"What about this one, Madame? I think your granddaughter would look lovely in it."
We turned in unison to see the saleswoman sauntering up to us. In her hand was, bless her, the green dress. My eyes widened as I looked at my grandmother hopefully.
"May I just try it on?" I begged, looking anxiously back at the dress.
My grandmother huffed, before grudgingly agreeing. I was led back into the dressing room. I smiled at the saleswoman. "Thank you very much."
"You're welcome," she replied with a small grin of her own. She laced me up and adjusted the fabric over my body a little. I returned outside to where my grandmother was. I faced the mirrors first and fell in love with what I saw. The gown fit perfectly, dipping where it should and covering what it needed to. I looked back at my grandmother hopefully.
"It is not nearly as expensive as the other one," I tried, holding the material of it in the fingers. I looked down again, knowing she was assessing how I looked in it.
After a few minutes, she finally decided. "Fine, you may get this one. Only because it is the night you are meeting your fiancé." She turned to the saleswoman. "We will purchase this one, I suppose."
I undressed gaily, handing the saleswoman the dress when I was done so she could box it up and fill out the receipt. They promised the dress would be there tomorrow, and I walked happily out of the store. My grandmother and I made our way to the carriage and it was not until I sat down that I realized I had forgotten my hairclip when I had taken it off to try on the gowns.
"I won't be but a moment," I reassured my grandmother as I leapt from the carriage. It was now well past nine o'clock and it was pitch black, as no lighting came from the stores that had already closed for the night. I felt uneasy, so I quickened my pace down the sidewalk. My breath came out in puffs in the frigid air. After a few moments, I reentered the store and retrieved my clip before heading towards the carriage once again.
My heart pounded like a hummingbird as I made my way down the sidewalk again. My clip was grasped so tightly in my hand, I could feel it making imprints in my palm. I heard a loud slamming of something behind me, making my head whip around over my shoulder. I saw nothing, and as I had not slowed down my pace, I slammed into something hard. My feet practically flew out from under me, but a wall to my right was there to catch me. I gripped the cold stones, my clip clattering to the ground after I dropped it.
I looked up apologetically at the person I had slammed into, and the sorry froze in my throat. The man standing before me was so much taller than I was, I found myself tipping my head back to look at him in the face. But I could not see his actual face, as a fedora covered the entire right side of it. Through the black fabric, I saw the white of a…mask? He did not seem to be the kind of man I should be accidentally slamming into in the middle of the night, alone. So I gave a nervous smile before I shuffled my feet backwards.
"My apologies, monsieur. I am a clumsy woman." I managed to keep my voice light and repentant.
"Obviously," he replied icily.
I noticed I had knocked some papers from his hands and I bent down to retrieve them. I stacked them together and stood, holding them out to him. He gave me a penetrating gaze that sent chills down my spine, which was impressive as he was only using half of his face to do so. He took them from my hands with a sigh, straightening the messy pile I had distributed to him. "S-sorry," I mumbled.
Feeling awkward I decided to take my leave, not bothering to recover my clip. I gave a small curtsey before mumbling another apology and making my way to our carriage, leaving my fallen clip behind.
Bloody hell, why did you just curtsey?
"Did you get your clip?" my grandmother asked as I sat down across from her.
"No, it wasn't there," I mumbled before staring out the window quietly, not saying another word the entire ride home. My mind was wandering to the strange encounter I had just had.
--
Christmas Eve came all too quickly and I found myself in my room, dreaming about Jason. Would he be handsome? Would he be kind? Perhaps he was even a dreamer like me! The thought brought a smile to my face and I stayed in my dreams as my mother, my grandmother, and my maid, Adele, ran about my room, trying to make sure I looked absolutely perfect. Apparently Jason was already downstairs with my brother and my father, having a brandy. We would meet at the table for dinner and that is when I knew what the rest of my life would be like. That time could not come fast enough.
Soon enough though, all three women stepped back with a satisfied sigh. I smiled as I turned to look at myself in the mirror. The deep emerald dress matched my eyes perfectly and my hair was pinned up in a ladylike manner, leaving one remaining curl out to drape delicately across the front of my shoulder. The dress hugged my waist to make it look smaller than it was in reality, even with my corset. Adele must have noticed me studying my waist for when my mother and my grandmother left the room, she looked at me and smiled.
"A trick of the eyes," she said, patting my waist softly making a blush spread up my neck and behind my ears. I grinned back though and grabbed Adele's hands with excitement.
"Will you be serving tonight?" I asked wanting my maid, who was a good friend of mine, to see what fiancé was like.
"Of course, love!" She gave me a kiss on the cheek before sending me downstairs to meet my fate.
I made my way down the stairs just as everyone was entering the dining room. I spied an unfamiliar man among them and knew it must be Jason. He saw me at the exact same moment and our eyes met. I blushed and sent my eyes to look at my feet. Soon though, he walked over to me and smiled. He took my hand and gave a chaste kiss right above my second knuckle.
"I take this to be my bride," he said with a charming smile, which I returned without hesitation.
"Yes. Good evening Monsieur De'lorme," I said in a shy tone, averting my eyes only slightly.
"Good evening to you as well, Mademoiselle Taylor." He then offered his arm and began leading me towards the table. I was aware of everyone's eyes upon us, and they all seemed to be holding their breath.
"Please, call me Madeleine," I replied sweetly.
"Then you must call me Jason. We are to be wed in eleven months time," he replied as he pulled out the chair for me. I sat gingerly and he sat adjacent to me, at the head of the table, while my father took the other side. Once everyone was seated, I began to study Jason for the first time.
He had a hard face with light brown hair that fell into his blue eyes. He had a strong jaw line and an aristocratic shaped nose. He wasn't terribly tall, but as most people were taller than me, it suited me just fine. Soon, a conversation took off about politics among the men, and the women began talking about the latest fashions.
How typical, I couldn't help but think.
Although I remained silent, my ears listened to the men's conversation, because despite being a woman, I did enjoy discussing politics.
"And that is why La Déclaration des droits de l'Homme et du citoyen was a wonderful thing added to French society." Jason concluded, earning praise from Father and my brother.
"I do agree," I said before I could stop myself. "La Déclaration des droits de l'Homme et du citoyen adds many splendid things to our government. For example, have you ever noticed…?" I trailed off when I noticed everyone looking at me with a peculiar expression.
Blast Madeleine! You did it again!
"My dear," Jason said in a tone as if he were talking to a child. "You really shouldn't partake in these kinds of conversations. It isn't ladylike."
I nodded in defeat, pretending to be very absorbed in my peas.
"Looks like you got your work cut out for you!" my father said playfully, which made Jason laugh.
"Don't worry Fredrick! I will make sure she knows the kind of woman she needs to be!" Jason replied, patting my head, which made me positively fume.
And Fredrick? When did he get to call my father by his first name? I chewed on the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything. As the night progressed I saw more, and more of Jason's shining qualities. I mean this in the most sarcastic way possible.
He was rude and conceited. It was not completely obvious, as my family, besides my brother, seemed to like him just fine.
It was just little things I noticed. He seemed to think he knew everything, especially how I should act. He was worse than an etiquette teacher, chiding me for any mistake I made. His eyes always watched me intently, as if trying to see if I was deserving enough for him. It would not surprise me in the least if that were what he was doing. He also asked me countless, pointless questions. Only once did he happen to hit a point we had hoped he wouldn't.
"So Madeleine, what finishing school did you attend?"
I met my father's eyes across the table. All of our friends we left in England were under the impression that I was here in Paris attending a finishing school, which was not true. But what was I to do? I could not lie to him, as he would surely find out. He would probably be more put out by that rather than if I told him the truth. So I sighed, took a deep breath and said, "I did not attend a finishing school."
"Oh?" he inquired as if I had spoken in a confusing dialect. "What have you been doing these past years you should have been at finishing school?"
Anger boiled under the surface of my carefully placed emotions, but I kept them at bay. Instead I gave a small closed-mouthed smile. "Working at the opera house."
"Working?"
My grandmother's eyes shifted nervously from face to face at the table. "Madeleine, perhaps it is time you retired."
"Yes, I have had quite the day." I crumbled my napkin onto my plate. "Good night Mister De'lorme."
"Good evening to you Madeleine."
Miss Taylor," I corrected through clenched teeth before I gave a stiff curtsy and left the room. It would not be for another few days that I would be punished for my little scene.
I stormed into my room, angry tears pouring from my cheeks. It wasn't fair! How did I end up getting engaged to such an awful man? He was everything I did not want, and it was dreadful. Suddenly, eleven months was hardly enough time in between now and my wedding. I picked up a doll my father had given me as a child. It had been a bribe to keep me quiet when I had threatened to expose him before I turned ten. She had a large smile on her face; her cheeks were rosy and her eyes bright.
"Please try not to look so merry when everything is quite bleak." I tossed her down before bringing my knees to my chest and rolling onto my side. I laid my chin on the material of the dress that was gathered at my knees. My eyes shifted downwards, taking in the beautiful jade gown. It was meant for a happy occasion and now I could hardly stand to look at it. I lay there on my side for many hours, hoping for justice to somehow find me.
It never did.