Chapter 11: Questions and Answers

Desireé was on a train bound for England. She stared out the window listlessly, trying – and failing – to convince herself that she'd done the right thing.

She'd left a letter for Nadine, explaining where she was going and why she had left, along with an enclosed message for Harold, stipulating that Nadine was to be the Sparkling Diamond in her absence. Knowing Nadine, the message would be passed on and everything would be fine.

Still, she wondered, why had she written a letter to tell Nadine the things she could've just as easily spoken aloud?

She did know the answer to this question, much as she didn't want to admit it. She was ashamed. The letter had contained secrets, secrets that – like the fact that Nadine had a twin – had been kept so long that it seemed pointless to tell them, and unnecessary to keep them. Over and over, she wished she'd never decided that Nadine shouldn't know about Therésa.

Therésa. The longing that Desireé had always felt to see her other daughter again had recently been getting worse. Finally, on the night before the twins' twenty-first birthday, it had grown into something very close to physical pain, and Desireé felt she couldn't stand it any longer. She wrote the letters and laid them at the foot of Nadine's bed where she was sure to see them the next morning. She lightly kissed Nadine's forehead – just as she had Therésa's before giving her up to Charles – and left, taking care that no one see her go. She needn't have bothered, really – Harold wasn't anywhere nearby and all the girls she could see were…otherwise engaged and not paying her any attention at all.

The train and everyone on it were oblivious of her raging thoughts as they sped towards England. Towards Therésa. Despite the fact that she was leaving one daughter behind, Desirée could not help but feel excited about getting closer to the other. Nadine will understand. She has to. This thought seemed all too desperate.

Remembering Nadine had brought a tear to her eye and she quickly wiped it away. Not quickly enough however, because an old woman sitting across from her noticed. "All you all right, dear?" she asked.

"What?" Desirée turned from the window. "Oh, yes. Just – remembering my daughters." It felt nice to use 'daughters' in the plural, even to a stranger.

The woman smiled. "Ah, children." She said happily. "I love children. How old are your little ones?"

"Twenty-one."

"Oh?" she laughed. "Not so very little, then, are they?" Desirée shook her head, smiling. "But young yet, as are you. Why do you leave them?"

Desirée hesitated, then decided there was no harm in telling the truth. "Actually, I'm only leaving one of them. The other lives in England, with her father, Charles Atwood. I'm going to visit them."

The woman's eyes widened. "Charles Atwood? Lord Atwood?" she gasped.

Lord? Charles was rich, certainly, but had he ever mentioned having a title as prestigious as lord? Desirée couldn't remember – it had been over twenty years, after all. "I don't know." She said finally, sticking to the truth once more, however disreputable it was. "I haven't seen him in...a very long time."

The woman seemed about to question her again, but thought better of it. "No," she said, almost to herself. "That's your business – and Lord Atwood's, if it's him, and your daughters'. It's certainly not mine."

Desirée gave her a small, grateful smile. "Thank you," she whispered. The tears were threatening again – her daughters' business? Yes, and she'd kept it from one of them. Her daughters' business. This simple phrase opened a whole new flood of questions.

What did Therésa know of her mother? Had Charles told her about the desperate prostitute at the Moulin Rouge? Or worse, did Therésa know nothing about her at all? Perhaps there was a Lady Atwood, who her daughter knew as mother. Would such a woman even consent to raising a whore's daughter? Surely Charles thought she'd have a better life there if he was so insistent that she live with him…exactly what was thought of bastard children in England?

Desirée cursed herself for not knowing more about British values.

She considered asking the woman, who had a British accent, but decided that would reveal more of her story than she wished to tell. She sighed heavily and decided there was nothing for it but to wait and – hopefully – her questions would be answered when she found Therésa…

Desirée woke up some time later as the train arrived at the port where a ferry would take them across the English Channel. She'd never been on any kind of boat before and immediately decided she didn't like it. When the journey was over, too many hours later, she was almost pathetically excited.

"I take it you don't like water," the woman from the train remarked dryly as Desirée left the ferry a little more than enthusiastically.

"No, I don't," Desirée said bluntly, then sighed and explained. "It's the constant motion. I guess you'd get used to it after awhile, but I'd really rather not. I'm a dancer, you see, and I like to be in control of my body. Having the sea underneath my feet takes away that control."

"Oh."

Desirée changed the subject. "Do you happen to know where I might find Lord Atwood?"

"Of course." The woman said brightly. "But I think we should get better acquainted first." Desirée raised her eyebrows. "What's your name, dear?"

"Desirée. Desirée Rousseau." She answered quickly. "And yours?"

"Maggie." The woman suddenly seemed mischievous. "Maggie…Atwood." She smiled pleasantly. "You know, Charles' mother?"

Closing her eyes, Desirée forced herself not to stammer. "Perhaps it is not the same Charles Atwood?"

"Oh no, the very same. You see, he talks of you often. The beautiful 'Sparkling Diamond' from the Moulin Rouge. I had been wanting to meet you."

"But that makes you –"

"The grandmother of your children, yes." The woman – Maggie Atwood - finished.

Desirée was momentarily speechless, but Maggie began walking down a nearby street, still talking as she beckoned Desirée to follow. "Before we go to see Charles, I'd like to talk to you. Over tea if you'd like."

Desirée hurriedly caught up with her. "Tea? I suppose. But what do you want to talk about?"

Maggie entered a teashop that was apparently well known to her, saying, "Several things – first and most importantly is how my grandchildren multiplied so quickly. As far as I knew Charles as only one daughter, Diamond, but you speak of two. Please, clarify."

Desirée paused, then asked. "What did Charles say about – well, about me? The circumstances we met in?"

Maggie seemed to recognize this as a way of answering the first question, so she did not protest the change of subject. "He said that he'd never seen anyone so lovely. He said he fell in love at first sight, though he knew that was forbidden, with you. He said he wished you were in a different profession."

"I am, now," Desirée murmured, half to herself. "I'm a dancer…"

Love? Charles had never acted as though he loved her – he had acted just like any of the countless other patrons of the Moulin Rouge. And whatever the case, she certainly didn't love him back. She sighed and shook her head. "I wanted them – both of them. I know I wasn't old enough to mother one child, let alone two but they were mine and I loved them more than life." She took a deep breath and continued. "When Charles came back, I was afraid he would try to take both, so I lied and only gave him one.

This time, Desirée did not try to stop the tears and they fell freely. "And I – I'll never forgive myself for that. Ever since, I've had this hole in my heart where I know she should've been. And I want her back."

A/N: So, I did some, though not much, research on the English Channel - I wanted to know how long the journey across would've taken. I got answers everywhere from 4 weeks (in the Middle Ages) to 2 hours (now) to "... ... ..." (time period ?). I am not joking about the last one - it's on . I copy-and-pasted it because it was just too strange. So instead I decided Desirée wasn't a water person, making any time period too long - I hope that wasn't too random.

I anticipate two, possibly three more chapters for this. If you haven't read 'If Only You Knew' and 'How She Felt' yet, I really suggest you do - like ASAP. I'm planning for the last chapter to take place right before the epilogue of 'If Only You Knew' so that could be confusing...

Please review!