Tris awoke the day after the ball with a new outlook on life. Although he had yet to break the news that he'd spontaneously proposed to the love of his life, who also happened to be the little sister of his best friend, he felt light as a feather. It was no secret that Charles was a bit temperamental on a good day, but somehow, Tris knew everything was going to work out. It had to, because he'd leapt off the cliff without looking back. He agreed to come to the hotel where Bella was staying with Charles and their father the next day and announce his intentions of making her his wife.
"Oh God…" He said aloud, pulling on his morning coat and straightening his ascot. The thought of the two identical sets of green eyes glaring at him certainly was not welcoming, but he knew Bella was worth it. Still, he decided to prolong the agony and walk to the hotel instead of drive. It was less than a mile away and it was sunny and delightful.
Tris had every intention of walking straight into the hotel to have done with the whole ordeal, but there was a couple walking just ahead of him and quietly arguing as they attempted to appear content. The young man was guiding, or rather, practically dragging the poor girl. A wry grin came to Tris's face because he realized he knew exactly who he was trailing behind. In fact, the very subjects of his thoughts.
"Really Charles, what has gotten into you?" Bella asked in a hushed voice, nodding to a passerby.
"You've been up to something Isabella, and I intend to get to the bottom of it." Charles let out a sigh. "Did you meet someone at the ball yesterday?"
"Well…no…I didn't meet anyone…"
"Then you got into trouble." He stated. Bella let out a slight sound of annoyance as she nearly tripped over uneven pavement.
"I did not!" She replied indignantly. "I was just…tired."
"Hmmm…" Charles answered, obviously unsatisfied. Tris decided to intervene and save Bella. Since he was going to marry the girl, it seemed the right thing to do.
"You really shouldn't bicker in public. It's ugly." He said, startling the two of them. Both of their eyes lit up when they turned around.
"Tris! I should have suspected you'd be lurking in the streets of London."
"I never lurk." He said, feigning horror. Bella smiled.
"How long have you been following us?" Charles asked with a raffish grin. Tris pretended to think.
"Five minutes, perhaps." He replied, winking at Bella, who blushed, but said nothing.
"Won't you sit down to lunch with us and our father at the Rutledge?"
"Of course." Tris said, feeling a bit anxious. "You know I never refuse food." He offered Bella his arm, which she took without hesitation. Charles gave them an odd look, but shrugged and walked beside them into the Rutledge Hotel, where they were staying.
"It was quite a party last night Coolidge...er...Keating or whatever you're going by these days." Charles joked. "Plenty of beautiful girls."
"Yes, there were." Tris glanced down at Bella, who was pointedly looking elsewhere pretending not to listen. He pulled the chair out for her to sit down. He could see her wringing her hands as he sat beside her at the table in the hotel restaurant.
"My sister enjoyed herself, didn't you Bells?" Charles prompted, making Bella jump a bit. She smiled nervous.
"Of course. Except for the tiny fact that you and Dad left me to the machinations of Gabrielle and Aunt Bianca, who made their sole purpose in life setting my hair in rags and dressing me! You know I hate to be fussed over."
Charles smiled evilly.
"I know." Turning to Tris, Bella sighed.
"The moment I arrived, I was dragged into Gabrielle's room and primped. I felt like a dinner entree."
"Poor Bella." He said sympathetically, trying to sound casual about the fact so that Charles would not deduce that the two of them intended on marrying. "When is your father due?"
"Any moment," Charles answered, "He was just meeting with the contractors for a minute." A waiter set a basket of fresh bread on the table with butter.
"I wish Claire were here." Bella said wistfully. Charles raised an eyebrow.
"Good God, why?" He asked, biting into a slice of bread. "We would have to hear her opinion on everything."
"I love that about our sister!" Bella said defensively. "She is so strong. I envy her!"
"You and every other girl in Paris envies our little Claire-Bear." Charles scowled.
"Such a protective older brother." Bella teased.
"Well...the only man who doesn't leer at her is Tris. And that's a feat for him!" Tris shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Leering at women is so overrated these days." He said, straightening his ascot. "I think I much prefer the idea of monogamy."
"You?" Charles asked incredulously, slow realization coming into his eyes. "There's a girl. Who is she? Tell me everything."
"I...uh--" Tris was saved, however, by Mr. Destler's arrival.
"Sorry I'm late. These damn English don't know anyth--"
"Ahem." Bella cleared her throat quickly. Destler realized Tris was there.
"Tris." He shook the boy's hand. "So glad to have you."
"So about this girl..." Charles began again.
"What girl?" Destler asked with a wry smile.
"Tris met a girl." Charles explained. Bella let out a small sigh of distress.
"Oh?"
"Well...it's complicated..."
"Why? Are her family unsatisfactory?" Destler asked.
"No!" Tris cried. "Not at all..."
"So there is a girl!" Charles cried victoriously.
"Charles." Bella said quietly.
"What is her name?" Charles ignored his sister.
"Her name..." Tris echoed, panicking.
"Charles." Bella repeated, a bit louder.
"Not now Bells...I've got to hear this." Charles replied.
"Bella is something wrong?" Destler asked. Bella shook her head.
"I don't know how to..." Tris faltered.
"Her name! Just tell me her name...is she married? Widowed?" Charles gasped. "Is it Lady Easton, who sold Dad the horse?"
"No!" Tris said, annoyed now.
"Charles!" Bella yelled. All three men stopped and turned to stare at Bella, who was now standing with her fork held in her small, shaking hand like a weapon.
"What is it?" Destler asked his daughter calmly.
"It's me." She said, now quietly as she caught the stares of people and sunk back into her seat.
"What's you?" Charles asked. Destler's eyes narrowed, first at his daughter and then at Tris.
"I'm the girl." She looked down at her lap. Charles's gaze slowly turned to understanding and then slowly, fury crept into his pale green eyes as he turned to Tris.
"Is this true?" He asked. Tris looked at Bella, feeling the love he'd hidden for so long overflow.
"It is." Charles stared at him in shock for a moment before his voice grew very low.
"I told you explicitly that my sisters were off limits to you...did I not?"
"You did." Tris replied, thinking it better to let Charles have it out now.
"Charles." Destler interjected calmly.
"And you deliberately pursued my sister anyway..."
"I did." He agreed.
"Did you compromise her?" Charles turned to Bella. "Did he compromise you?" He looked back at Tris. "I'll kill him!"
"He did not." Bella replied indignantly. "And how dare you to presume that I would fall prey to that!"
"Then what?" Charles now bellowed, turning heads again. Tris stared as calmly as he could at his best friend.
"I asked her to marry me." Tris stated, swallowing. His palms were sweaty, he knew. Destler, ignoring his son, turned to Bella.
"Is this true?"
"Yes." She said.
"And did you accept?" Her father went on.
"I did."
"Then you have my blessing." He replied, looking at Tris. "If Bella deems you worthy of her, then so do I." Bella looked at her father with such adoration, Tris felt extreme envy for having good parents. Charles, however, was glowering at him still.
"I think we two should go and telegraph your mother the good news, my girl." Destler said, standing and offering his hand to Bella. Nodding, she smiled and looked once more at Tris, who tried to ignore the heat of Charles's eyes on him. "Charles, do let it go." Destler added, "Sulking doesn't become you and it's my blessing he needs, not yours." Charles looked at his father furiously, watching the two walk away. Tris saw his anger wane and finally leave his face, replacing it with resignation. He cleared his throat.
"I'll let it go..." Charles agreed. "But if you ever hurt my sister...I'm going to kill you."
Emmy was humming her scales as she walked up the steps to Charles's townhouse and rang the bell. His butler answered and she saw something like pity in his shocked expression.
"Mademoiselle de Chagny!"
"Sir." She nodded. "I'm here for my lesson with Monsieur Destler." The man nodded.
"He's in London on business for two months, Mademoiselle." The butler sighed. "I can't believe he didn't tell you." Hurt filled her chest.
"T-Two months?" She asked. He'd just left without saying goodbye.
Two months were all that was left before she was going to audition for the opera. Unbidden tears filled her eyes embarrassingly.
"Oh...I see." She said, shaking.
"I'm sorry, milady...can I have his carriage take you home?"
"No." She replied, swallowing the lump in her throat and replacing it with what could only be anger. "I'll manage. Thank you kindly." She turned then, and left him watching her sympathetically. Her pinned dark coiffure had begun to unravel in the unusally windy day. Aimlessly, she walked down the main street of town and forbade herself to cry. Stumbling over a stone, she nearly lost her balance as another gust came. She caught herself before she ran into a girl and with horror, realized it was Chloe.
"Get off of me, you great klutz!" Chloe said, brushing off her dress. "I don't want to get what you're carrying." Her two friends laughed.
"I'm sorry." Emmy said and began to turn away.
"Sorry to hear Charles left town. I guess you scared him off." Chloe said sweetly. Tired of it all, and on her last nerve, she turned back to Chloe.
"Perhaps it was because I don't shamelessly throw myself him like some common whores do. I suppose I just want a man to love me for something other than what's between my legs." Emmy shrugged. "I don't know...but I wish you a wonderful day, Chloe, Georgette, Marcheline." When she turned away, she finally allowed the tears to fall down her face, but somehow, she felt the tiniest bit better.
Gustave stared at the front door at the Destlers' for five entire minutes before working up the courage to ring the bell. The door was opened almost instantly, and to his surprise, he found himself staring into the face of ten year old Esme.
"Good afternoon Monsieur le Vicomte." She said prettily, curtseying. "My sister is expecting you." He breathed in relief. Claire had agreed to see him today, but with the nature of her ever changing moods, he wasn't sure from moment to moment what she would be like. "You can come into the parlor." Esme said, skipping ahead. He followed her into the room where Madame Destler and Julienne sat expectantly.
"Gustave." Madame Destler said, "How are your parents?"
"Wonderful. They send their love and would like you to come for dinner before the gala."
"Oh, delightful. It will just be Julienne, Claire and I since Monsieur Destler is in England for the month."
"Of course." He said, sitting across from them in a chair. A long silence passed as he looked awkwardly at everything except the three females in the room with him. Finally, ten painstaking minutes later, Claire appeared. Her black hair was pinned prettily under a small hat. She wore a skirt of blue satin with a white blouse and a matching blue jacket. Blue gloves adorned her hands. She looked like an exotic princess.
Gustave stared at her for a moment until her dark eyebrow arched in expectant impatience.
"Well, are you going to gape all day or are you ready?"
"Claire." Madame Destler scolded her daughter, giving Gustave an apologetic look.
"Coming!" He called after her, watching as she disappeared through the door with her mother and youngest sister close behind. He started to follow her, but was stopped by her other sister, the one who looked like her.
"Monsieur le Vicomte." Her voice was a conspiratorial whisper.
"Yes Mademoiselle?"
"Don't try to impress her. She hates that. Just be yourself…Claire isn't one who is awed by formalities. She's got very simple tastes." Julienne smiled and went on. "She likes daisies, not roses and there is a small café near the Opera Populaire. Take her there, it's her favorite."
A smile came to Gustave's face as he stared down at the girl.
"Why are you helping me, Miss Destler?" Her eyes became brighter, sparkling with mischief.
"It's for Claire. I want her to be happy…" She winked at him and gestured for him to leave. He nodded at her and went after Claire.