34
Over the next few days Erik had seen very little of Fleurette. It pained him, it pained him more than he'd like to admit.
Looking at the cream paper with the address on it he frowned. Yes, he knew the building. It wasn't to far from the opera house. If anything it was more near Fleurette's home than the opera house. It didn't really reassure him that much that the words; masquerade don't forget. Were written and underlined loads of times.
Clearly Lucien thought his daughters were forgetful, unlike him the two of them hadn't addled their brains with alcohol.
Pocketing the paper he stood up and walked over to the boat. Pushing it and jumping in Erik easily manoeuvred it towards the other side. He was being serious to Fleurette when they last spoke. He could not be held responsible for his actions.
Her father angered him.
Charles infuriated him.
Having the two of them together in one place was going to take all the self control Erik had.
Walking up into the walkways of the opera house Erik leaned against the railing and looked over. "So when are you two going dress shopping?" Meg asked happily, Fleurette and Eleanor looked at each other and then at her. Christine sat down next to the smiling blonde and looked at them too.
"Are you excited?" She asked while leaning her head against her hand.
"No." Fleurette muttered and suffered confused looks from two of the three people in front of her.
"Fleurette doesn't really like dancing." Eleanor laughed and then shook her head. "Well not that sort of dancing. Ballet is one thing, ballroom dancing is another. It is a skill my sister has not yet required." Eleanor laughed and patted Fleurette on the shoulder.
"Not to mention trying to dance in those dresses." The red head shuddered and shook her head. "It's a nightmare. I can picture it now."
"You are just being dramatic, the both of you!" Christine said while wagging a finger at them both. Eleanor sighed and Fleurette laid back against the stage. She shut her eyes and used her hands as a pillow. She seemed to completely blank out the conversation which the women beside her were having.
"I think green," Meg said while poking Fleurette in the arm. "Green suits you."
"I do like green."
"Red."
"I hate red." Fleurette muttered bitterly and frowned.
"But I think red would suit you." Christine went on further to say. Eleanor nodded seemingly agreeing with her. Yet Fleurette laid with a deep frown on her face, obviously highly disagreeing.
"What about you Eleanor?" Meg asked, "What colour dress are you likely to get?" Erik had to admit as far as eavesdropping into conversation went, this conversation was very boring.
"Blue." Eleanor answered after thinking the question over for a few moments.
"What about masks? Oh I'm so jealous! You two are going to have such fun." Meg whined and waved her hands in the air.
"I've not even thought about a mask!" Eleanor admitted. "The dresses sidetracked me." She smiled and watched Fleurette finally sit back up straight. "We are returning home tonight and going shopping tomorrow."
"It'll be very strange without you two here." Christine said while standing up and bidding them farewell. She disappeared up the stairs and out of sight.
"I'm still jealous."
"Did you want to go instead of me?" Fleurette asked bluntly, Eleanor shook her head and stood up.
"Come, we must get going or else father will surely come here himself and collect us."
"We both don't want that do we?" Fleurette questioned, although her words weren't really spoken in a questioning tone.
Erik frowned at this new information, reaching into his pocket he pulled out the piece of cream paper. It was even more crumpled up than it originally was. The date of the ball was in two days time. Erik's eyes flicked back to the stage when Eleanor and Fleurette hopped down from the stage. They both picked up a small travel bag and walked down the aisle towards the door.
Neither of them looked back and soon with the quiet sound of a door shutting alerted him to the sisters exit.
"This one?"
"It's red."
"So?"
"I don't like red." Fleurette muttered and then shooed the shop owners hands away. Eleanor looked from the red dress in her hands to her sister. The shop owner was waving a tape measure about trying to measure Fleurette's arm length. She even went about muttering how fidgety she was and should just let her do her job.
Eleanor ignored her words and held the dress up in front of her. "I quite frankly think red suits you. It suits your pale skin and your green eyes."
"What?"
"Your sister is right," the woman said while clutching onto Fleurette's arm and measuring it.
"But I don't like red."
"So you keep saying!" Eleanor whined. "You keep saying and I keep ignoring. Fleurette you live in green and blue. You have to wear something special for this! If you turn up in something similar to what you wear in everyday situations father will no doubt be annoyed." Fleurette was about to answer but suddenly had a tape measure yanked around her waist. She looked to her sister for some sort of help. Eleanor smiled and held the dress out towards her.
The shop owner huffed and shook her head. The old woman even pottered off between the rails of dresses muttering to herself. "No no that one won't do." She said, Fleurette looked worriedly at the woman's retreating back.
"I think she's mad."
"Don't be mean!" Eleanor exclaimed and looked over a rail with white dresses hanging from it.
"Here," the old woman popped up beside Fleurette, in retort she let out a startled yelp. The woman had just appeared from nowhere.
The red dress the old woman was holding was more or less like the one Eleanor was previously holding. It was seemingly very long, or the trail on the skirt made it appear longer than it actually was. The skirt itself was ruffled and had the appearance of many layers. But even without touching and holding it Fleurette could tell there weren't as layers to it than it appeared. All in all, this dress was somewhat of an illusion.
She also had to admit to herself that she actually liked it.
If only it wasn't red.
The woman shoved the dress into her hands and ignored Fleurette's disgruntled expression. From behind her Eleanor was exclaimed with glee of finding the perfect dress for herself. With a frown she looked over her shoulder at her sister just before getting shoved into a changing room.