Chapter 50: Artifices
"This dress better not slip off my shoulders when Jehan and I dance later."
Despite the fact that she had been told to stay as still as possible to keep her hair in place, Eponine burst out giggling at her sister's comment. "It would have to be a terribly clumsy thing or a badly sewn dress," she pointed out, watching as Azelma preened in front of a mirror in Musichetta's apartment. It was a little past six in the evening, just an hour before the soiree at the Lafontaine residence.
"Which yours isn't, I'm sure! I made sure to alter it right," Paulette muttered as she helped Eponine twist and pin back some unruly strands of hair. The older girl surveyed her handiwork for a moment and sighed. "That will have to do; I wish you had thought of curling your hair this morning, Eponine. I know you haven't the time to but it would have made things a little easier."
"I would if I could find the tongs I bought a few days ago," Eponine said, smoothing out the skirt of her green dress. 'I'm pretty sure that Gavroche hid them,' she thought a little petulantly; it was just like her brother to play a practical joke at the most inopportune moments.
"You'd better do it for my wedding," Musichetta chimed in as she helped Azelma adjust the light blue sash that set off her purple gown. "I'll help you two get lovely dresses; we just need one afternoon to settle on the cloth and take measurements."
"When we're done with your wedding gown," Paulette said to Musichetta. "Finding that specific lace you want for the sleeves isn't easy, you know!"
"It's the only trim that will set them off nicely," Musichetta replied.
'Will anyone aside from Joly notice it?' Eponine wondered as she heard the door opening. "Good evening Bossuet," she called to the newcomer.
Bossuet's brow crinkled with amusement as he realized how many visitors were in the apartment. "I see I have interrupted the ladies' toilette. Forgive me," he said cheerily as he entered the room.
"Oh, just a matter of hair," Musichetta said cheerily. "You're back early from the Palais de Justice."
"No, La Force actually. I had to assist one of the younger licentiates there," Bossuet explained. "He found himself in a Styx's worth of paper, the poor boy."
"What sort of case was it?" Eponine asked curiously.
"A property case that should have been a necromancer's territory," Bossuet replied.
"So you're working as a clerk nowadays?" Paulette asked.
Bossuet's expression turned wry. "In the past tense, unfortunately. I'm afraid my commission has ended and I will have to seek employment again."
Eponine bit her lip. "Aren't you worried?"
Bossuet smiled wryly. "Should I be? I am the Eagle of Meaux, and I already have an eyrie."
"With that very affectionate Citizenness Marthe Blanchard," Musichetta quipped.
"Ah her," Bossuet said with a grin. "If you must look for a term, my mistress," he explained to the rest of the group.
"Why haven't you ever introduced her to the rest of us?" Paulette demanded, unconsciously placing a hand on her stomach. "You are almost as secretive as Grantaire."
"I am still trying to convince her," Bossuet replied with a shrug. He set down the papers he was carrying and stretched till he heard a cracking sound from his back. "Is Joly still in search of his new stays?" he asked Musichetta.
Azelma's eyes widened. "Joly wears them?"
Musichetta nodded. "For his health, particularly to support his back. I am sure it's not comfortable but you hardly see him slouch and he looks smarter that way. And no, Bossuet, he hasn't found them,"
"I know some of Jehan's friends wear those but that's just when they are playing at parts. I thought he was naturally shaped that way," Azelma said.
"Most men aren't," Paulette said nonchalantly.
Bossuet burst out laughing while Musichetta snorted. "Does Courfeyrac have to be laced up every day?"Musichetta asked after a while.
Paulette counted on her fingers. "Perhaps thrice a week. I'm sure the other young men we know also do the same thing when they intend to be fashionable."
"Not Feuilly," Bossuet pointed out. "I am sure that Bahorel wouldn't either."
Azelma shrugged while Paulette gave Bossuet a sceptical look. "I doubt there is any other way he can get his chest to be so grand," Paulette finally said.
"I guess that Grantaire is much the same way," Azelma said. "Meaning he does wear one."
Bossuet grinned by way of agreement. "I think Prouvaire has a good story about that one."
"Which he hasn't told me yet!" Azelma said indignantly.
Paulette shook her head. "Does Combeferre also agree with those health reasons?"
"The question would be is if someone would help him there," Eponine pointed out, trying not to laugh at the idea of Combeferre asking either Claudine or Enjolras for help with lacing stays.
Azelma smiled at her sister slyly. "What about-"
"I don't watch him get ready for the day," Eponine replied quickly as she pulled on her gloves.
"I can't believe you don't! But what do you think?" Paulette asked disappointedly over the laughter of the rest of the group.
"You can guess, and so can I," Eponine quipped. Even so, a small smile crossed her face as she remembered all the mornings she'd seen Enjolras come down to breakfast in his shirtsleeves. 'He definitely does not need that sort of lacing up,' she thought even as she heard the distinct sounds of several gentlemen conversing outside the apartment.
"Patrice is on time, but Prouvaire and Enjolras are early," Musichetta remarked. She grinned as she looked at Eponine. "I'm certain that Enjolras won't be able to take his eyes off you tonight."
"Only for a moment; he's got other interesting people he has to speak to," Eponine said moments before the door swung open again. She pushed her chair back to let Musichetta go over to greet Joly with a kiss. Meanwhile Azelma was also giving Prouvaire a similarly enthusiastic greeting, only to end up blushing deeply when the poet complimented her on her appearance.
After a few moments she met Enjolras' bemused, almost quizzical smile. Although this was not the first time she had ever seen him in elegant attire, specifically his best tailcoat and a well-tied cravat, she somehow felt some warmth in her face and in her chest just from looking at him. 'How does he do it?' she wondered as she met him. She took one of his hands in both of hers. "Will this do?"
"It's rather becoming," he said, approval evident in his tone. "Fortunately neither of us is at that gathering to attract much attention."
She shook her head. "It's impossible with you. Today at work, Odette, Emile, and at least two other fellows coming in for their translations said that you were the man of the hour. Someone everyone looks to, I s'pose."
"Given the circumstances of this evening, that is not entirely reassuring," Enjolras said. He squeezed Eponine's hand as he looked to where Azelma giggling loudly while she leaned in close to Prouvaire. "Discretion would be advisable in these circumstances."
"I did tell her to behave a little," Eponine replied a little anxiously. 'Prouvaire was happy to receive the invitation since he's also friends with the Lafontaines, but of course he wouldn't go without Azelma,' she thought as she checked once again that she'd brought her passkey, the invitation, and enough francs to help pay for a fiacre ride. "Azelma will be fine if no one acts silly."
"At least there is that," Enjolras said confidently before he went to converse with Bossuet, Prouvaire, and Joly.
In the meantime Paulette tapped Eponine's shoulder. "Try to enjoy it a little, Eponine. It's not every day that girls like us get such grand invitations," she advised. "You're not alone either; I know that Feuilly and his girl Leonor will be there too. And you said that Enjolras' parents will be there and they like you."
"I s'pose I could try," Eponine said bravely, also now looking at Musichetta. "Thank you for helping me and Azelma."
"Any time; you'd do the same for me. Now shoo before you're all late!" Musichetta laughed. "You wouldn't want to miss the dancing!"
Despite her now renewed apprehension, Eponine still managed a smile before bidding Paulette, Bossuet, Musichetta, and Joly goodbye and then following Enjolras, Prouvaire, and Azelma out the door and downstairs to find a fiacre.
It was a long way to the Lafontaines' house at Rue de Constantinople, which was practically on the other side of Paris from the Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau. In fact Eponine was almost afraid she would fall asleep during the trip there; a calamity that was fortunately averted by Prouvaire and Azelma's ebullient conversation as well as by Enjolras' occasional remarks. Nevertheless she felt considerably more enlivened as the carriage approached a large, brightly lit manor that had its yard and front gates decorated with intricate lanterns in varying colors of glass. It was apparent that the intent was for the guests to pass through the gardens instead of being driven up to the front doors. 'Which is just as well since the fiacre can only go so far,' Eponine thought with relief as she alighted from the carriage. She was thankful that even with the lanterns set up all over the premises, that there were still enough shadows to hide the plainness of her gown and the fact that she probably had not applied enough rouge to her cheeks.
Azelma's eyes were wide as she took in their grandiose surroundings. "Do they keep the gardens like this every night?"
"Perhaps not; this grandeur would weary the eyes out every day," Prouvaire replied. He craned his neck and looked to where a trio of people were conversing near one of the garden paths. "Feuilly is here, with Leonor. They're with Auguste Lafontaine."
In a few moments Feuilly spotted the newcomers and eagerly motioned for them to come over. He was wearing his best dark blue suit, while Leonor had on a dress in a lighter tint of blue. "I knew you'd all be punctual," the former fan maker said. "Enjolras, Prouvaire, I am sure you two and Citizen Lafontaine surely remember each other from the Sorbonne?"
"Yes, certainly," Enjolras said cordially. "It's been some time, Lafontaine."
A broad, open grin spread across Auguste Lafontaine's face, making him seem even younger than his twenty-five years. He was a tall, dark haired fellow with a formidable build that was only accentuated by the excellent tailoring of his suit. "How the world has changed since then," he replied. He bowed politely to Eponine. "I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Citizenness Thenardier."
Eponine managed a nod, despite being taken aback for a moment. "You too as well, Citizen Lafontaine. Are you also a practicing attorney?" she asked.
"Only in my ambitions, sadly," Auguste replied. He nodded to Prouvaire. "How is your next literary success coming?"
"It is still being spun," Prouvaire replied cheerily. "I am seeking to venture into another sort of drama."
Auguste laughed merrily. "Your muse?" he asked, indicating Azelma.
"A Grace actually," Prouvaire said before proceeding to make the appropriate introductions. "As you probably have guessed, she is the younger sister of Citizenness Eponine Thenardier," he finished.
"Citizen Feuilly, are they also acquainted with-"Auguste asked, looking to Leonor.
"We are," Leonor said, smiling at Eponine and Azelma. "It is impossible for women to be actively involved within the Radicaux party without making each other's acquaintance."
"Actively involved and vocal," Feuilly said.
"Almost synonymous," Leonor pointed out. "What do you think, Eponine?"
Eponine's eyes widened at this sudden friendly turn but before she could address Leonor, she heard a distinctly melodious, almost crooning voice call for Auguste. In a few moments a trio of young women approached the group. The two younger girls had dark hair and were dressed in nearly identical white gowns. They seemed to be perhaps only a year or two older than Eponine. The third and oldest of this group was rather petite in build but more than made up for her height with her well formed face and her richly coiffed flaming red hair. She was wearing a lavish diamond necklace comprised of several pendants interspersed with silver filigree.
"I was about to make my way indoors, my dears," Auguste said to the women. "My friends, I'd like you to meet my wife Angelique, and my sisters Justine and Cerise," he said, first nodding to the redheaded woman, then to the two brunettes before proceeding to introduce the rest of the group.
"It's not every day that my husband is allowed to invite his more progressive friends over," Angelique remarked after the introductions. "It's a relief to finally speak to someone young enough so as not to have some hoary story about the Corsican's rule."
"Unfortunately much of the talk so far has been rather...nostalgic," Auguste said uneasily.
"Nostalgic! It's boring!" Cerise, the older of the Lafontaine girls, blurted out. Her smile was coy, more so when her deep eyes looked in Enjolras' direction. "I'd rather much talk about the new politics. It must be fascinating to be the youngest legislator in Paris. I heard that you make the most excellent speeches-"
Eponine gritted her teeth on hearing the increasingly ingratiating tone in Cerise's voice, but she had to bite back a surprised laugh when she saw Enjolras' expression turn stern, which was somehow enough to make Cerise stammer out what sounded like an apology before quickly retreating behind her sister. "Enjolras, she was only asking," Eponine quipped, reaching over to grasp his elbow lightly.
"On matters that are hardly pleasantries," Enjolras said dryly.
"You don't have to be that polite here with your conversation," Auguste joked. "We run a more liberal household now."
"Perhaps you gentlemen ought to continue in this vein while the ladies and I continue to be more social," Angelique cut in. "Shall we?" she said to the women.
Azelma nodded gleefully before quickly going to talk with Justine Lafontaine, even before Auguste and the gentlemen could excuse themselves. As Angelique led the way to the house, Eponine quickly noticed that Leonor was trailing behind the group, clutching her purse tightly. "I s'pose you weren't expecting this?" Eponine asked her worriedly.
Leonor's thin lips quivered in a half-smile. "I wouldn't know what sort of politics to talk about with them. They do not stand exactly on the same ground we do." She cast an envious glance towards where Auguste was now introducing Feuilly, Enjolras, and Prouvaire to some diplomats. "Them, I know though. I'd rather find out what Gilles will be busy with after he leaves in two days."
"Maybe someday you'll get to travel with him too," Eponine suggested. "It would be a lovely thing."
"Perhaps on a less risky venture," Leonor said. She fiddled with the string that held her purse shut. "I'm only learning a little about diplomacy—who to talk to at least; it's an absolute headache and I am not sure how Gilles will stand it. But he seems eager, and who am I to stop him?"
Eponine shrugged. "I think he'll do well. He's not going alone."
Leonor looked down for a moment. "I heard that you and Claudine are helping organize a sort of group for ladies, to address concerns about employment," she said after a while.
"More of making sure that the legislators will write the laws they promised they would," Eponine said. She swallowed hard before looking at Leonor again, already guessing what the other girl had in mind. "I s'pose you now want to do with it?"
"Of course. Are you going to refuse?" Leonor asked a little worriedly.
"I do not have a reason to," Eponine replied candidly. It was impossible to disregard the fact that Leonor knew her way about and had the means of reaching certain groups and individuals who would be interested in this venture. 'I only hope we won't argue too much,' she thought. Yet even so, it was good to finally speak with her less acrimoniously.
Leonor nodded before glancing towards where Angelique was watching them impatiently from the door of the house. "We have to stop being impolite," she said with a long-suffering sigh.
"Do we have a choice?" Eponine asked, willing herself to remember Paulette's admonition even as they went to where Angelique was showing the other ladies to a small cloakroom. It was just as well, since their young hostess lost no time in introducing Eponine and Leonor to the various ladies present at the ball. It became rather difficult after a time for Eponine to remember all the names of the dignitaries present, except for those that she had already heard of in the news or had met during the campaign. Nevertheless she did her best to try to recall as many personalities as she could, knowing that she was likely to have to meet with them if only to help further what she, Claudine, and now Leonor had in mind. However what grew more disconcerting than this flurry of high society was the distinct feeling she had of being watched, or even looked over by each person she was introduced to. 'Not in the same way an inspector would watch,' Eponine decided. It was as if her very name, if not her face, was being held up against some unknown measure that she feared she would never be able to fathom.
In the middle of a spirited conversation with some older salonnieres, the strains of a merry quadrille began to fill the air. "I hope you will enjoy the dancing here; we have some excellent musicians tonight," Angelique told her guests. "Do you dance often, Citizennesses?"
"Occasionally," Leonor replied a little cheerily.
Eponine shook her head. "I haven't the occasion to."
"You should try it, at least for enjoyment's sake. Besides it's a permissible sort of exercise," Angelique said. "You shouldn't lack for partners tonight."
Eponine didn't say anything to this, more so when she caught sight of her sister and Prouvaire already joining a group of couples. She noticed that a good many of these dancers were in uniform; someone had thought of inviting a whole company of lancers to this gathering. She smiled though on seeing how Azelma danced; she had always been rather light of feet but now that quality of hers seemed to fit well here as it once did on the streets. Azelma was laughing as she looked past Prouvaire and caught her sister's eye. She made a motion for Eponine to join them but the older girl shook her head. 'Maybe not this particular dance,' Eponine thought, noticing the intricate steps of the quadrille. There was no way she could acquit herself in the ballroom at least during this particular song. Neither could she during the next dance, a merry polonaise. This time Leonor and Feuilly joined the group, leaving Eponine to watch from the periphery.
After a while she caught sight of Enjolras making his way to her. "I see that for now, much of your useful conversation has ended," she said to him by way of greeting.
"In favour of entertainment. It is only natural," Enjolras said. "I spoke with some of the diplomats that Feuilly will be working with. They have a great deal to set straight while they are in England, though I have no doubt Feuilly will manage well."
"Anyone else?" she asked eagerly, stepping closer so that they were side by side. She grasped his shoulder lightly. "What about someone who could help you with the things you will do with the legislature next month?"
"Yes; a few lawyers and some scholars, as well as Chateaubriand himself. They have a number of interesting points of law that they wish to discuss at a more opportune moment. Within the week, I should hope," Enjolras said. He touched her wrist. "How have you been?"
"Busy trying to remember every name and face of all these ladies," Eponine replied. "I should hope not to make a mistake when I meet these people again."
"It takes practice to commit them to memory."
"I s'pose. Aren't you going to dance? There are many other women in the room without partners."
Enjolras gave her a sidelong glance. "You are referring to women who could do with a better partner. What about you?"
She shrugged. "What dances I remember from Montfermeil are hardly appropriate here. I have to simply watch and hope I keep up if anyone dares to ask me."
"That is bold," Enjolras commented approvingly. His brow furrowed a moment later as he noticed a figure walking up to them. "Good evening, Citizen Paquet."
The older man nodded almost mockingly to the pair. "I see you are both being unsociable, especially for a couple that is being discussed rather eagerly in these rooms."
"We are merely taking a respite," Enjolras replied coolly.
"I see," Paquet sneered. "Would you care then for a dance, Citizenness Thenardier?"
"I must refuse since I do not know how to dance," Eponine said bluntly.
Paquet's lip curled in an expression of distaste. "I had expected that even you would show some semblance of refinement. You ought to watch your manners, young lady."
"When I am not watching my back."
"Are you threatening me?" Paquet hissed.
"No, and I don't see why I should," she said, even as she felt Enjolras' hand close about her arm, as if warning her. "I s'pose you should quickly seek another partner," she told Paquet more civilly.
"That can wait," Paquet replied. "It is very wise of you to come to this ball and make new alliances. After all one has to prepare for the eventuality of Lafayette vacating his seat."
"It would be more prudent and necessary to prepare for serving in other capacities," Enjolras replied, not even bothering to hide his disapproval of this remark. "As to alliances, this is hardly a time to be making more enemies."
"You may think that you can be dismissive now that the election is won. I will still be watching what you do, Enjolras. And the same goes for the girl," Paquet said darkly. "I may not have been elected but I am still the party's main delegate here in Paris. You would do well to remember that I will not allow the ambitions of a schoolboy and a common thief to ruin all I've worked for."
Eponine felt her hands ball up painfully into fists at this jibe. When she risked a glance at Enjolras, she saw that he was still impassive but the fury in his eyes was clear. "If it is deference you wish for, you may seek it elsewhere," Enjolras said at last. "You will not hear it here."
Paquet cursed under his breath before turning on his heel and stalking off to where a group of men, obviously his cronies, waited. Eponine glared at his retreating back and crossed her arms. "All the trouble, coming all the way here to make a threat!" she whispered vehemently after a while.
"He knows his opportunities," Enjolras pointed out. "We could not counter him in the usual fashion under these circumstances."
"People came here to dance, not to listen to a debate," Eponine quipped, earning her a wry smile from Enjolras. She noticed a flash of color at the edge of her vision and turned to see another familiar figure talking with a richly dressed woman who she vaguely recalled as being introduced as Auguste Lafontaine's mother. "Your mother is here, Antoine," Eponine said, leaning in close so that she would not be overheard.
"Yes, and conversing with the actual lady of the house," Enjolras added, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder as he met her rather wary gaze. "It's best that we do not interrupt-"
It happened that at that moment Monique turned and caught sight of them. "Ah there you two are!" she greeted, motioning for them to come over. "I thought I'd have to wait for the dancing to be over before I could find either of you."
The elderly woman speaking with Monique eyed Enjolras and Eponine sceptically. "Ah yes. The legislator and his...friend," she said. "My daughter-in-law introduced you earlier," she added, looking at Eponine.
"I s'pose so," Eponine said, only to see Citizenness Lafontaine's eyebrows shoot up and her lip curl. The feeling of being scrutinized now turned into something hotter, almost akin to that of being stripped bare in public. 'What did I do?' she wondered.
Enjolras cleared his throat. "We only came to greet you. My apologies for the interruption," he said.
"On the contrary, I need to speak with Citizenness Thenardier. Could you please help Citizenness Lafontaine find her son? It will not be a long chat," Monique said before motioning for Eponine to follow her to another side of the ballroom.
"I hope you're enjoying yourself, my dear," Monique said after a while. "How do you find it so far?"
"I've met some interesting persons. I don't get that sort every day," Eponine replied. "Was there something wrong in how I spoke with that lady?"
"She's rather particular about pronunciation since she received strict instruction. Don't bother yourself with that too much," Monique explained. Her smile turned mischievous after a moment. "How many times have you and Antoine danced together tonight?"
"None yet," Eponine said nonchalantly.
Monique's eyes widened before she let out an exasperated sigh. "What is he thinking, being so reserved on a night like this?"
"Only when it comes to dancing," Eponine explained.
"You should convince him to dance with you."
"It doesn't quite suit me either; we'd become the two biggest sillies at this soiree."
"You both ought to learn for the sake of social graces," Monique scolded lightly. "Sometimes I will never understand that boy. I don't think I've understood him in so long..." she trailed, twisting a lace handkerchief between her fingers.
"I don't understand him all the time either, and I s'pose I never will not even if he told me everything," Eponine remarked.
Monique paused before looking at Eponine, but this time with a pained light of realization in her eyes. "So he told you about what happened in Marseilles?" she asked in a low voice.
"Because I asked," Eponine said slowly, already resolving not to divulge Enjolras' secret.
"That impossible boy! Could you..."
"I s'pose you should ask him. I don't think I should say it."
Monique shook her head. "All these years, not a single word or mention of it, even if he knew that I was worried about him. Now he tells you so easily. That is not how it should be."
"I wanted to know," Eponine said, suddenly feeling unnerved at the woman's vehemence. She swallowed hard when she saw that Monique was still silent. "I had to know. I live with him and I s'pose it is a part of why he is-"
"I'm his mother," Monique snapped bitterly. She wiped at her face, frowning at the rouge that came off on the handkerchief. "You should go back to the dance, Eponine," she said after a few moments.
"Should I ask Antoine to talk to you?" Eponine asked tentatively.
"I have to be alone for a little while before I see him. Do not worry about me," Monique replied before taking a deep breath and making her way to a nearby door, slamming it more sharply than what would normally have been proper.
Eponine shut her eyes and leaned against the nearest wall, now wishing desperately that she could either leave the soiree or that perhaps someone would ask her to dance. 'Then I wouldn't say anything that could cause trouble,' she thought. Even so she stood on tiptoe in an attempt to try to locate Enjolras, Azelma, Prouvaire, Feuilly, Leonor, or just any other familiar face in the crowd. The middle of the room was full of couples lining up for a dance, while the periphery was abuzz with groups of people talking uproariously, thus making her task quite impossible at the moment. In the middle of this confusion she heard someone mention that refreshments were already being served. 'Will they serve something of a proper dinner here?' she wondered, managing to get a slice of cake, followed by a single glass of wine. If ever that was to be the case, it probably would not happen for another hour or two, at the earliest.
As Eponine set down her half- full glass, she realized that she was being eyed by another familiar face. 'Who didn't the Lafontaines invite?' she wondered, fighting to keep a calm, civil expression as she nodded to Theodule in a barely polite acknowledgment.
Instead of smiling, the lancer raised an eyebrow and strode over to her. "It's hardly a surprise to see you here, Eponine," he greeted in a voice devoid of its usual bluster and merriment.
"Is it, Citizen Gillenormand?" Eponine said, placing emphasis on the form of address. She stood up straight and picked up her glass. "I'm afraid I'll make poor conversation for you this evening."
"A pity. I saw you eagerly conversing with the rest of the party earlier," Theodule said. His mustache twitched as he regarded her, as if he was satisfied to have caught her off-guard. "I saw you at the Hotel de Ville a few days ago."
"I know. Cosette told me," Eponine replied curtly, trying to step away only to have Theodule block her path. She pushed at him with one hand. "Let me pass."
"If you can answer one question for me," Theodule said, bitterness now lacing his voice.
"I already told you why I am not marrying you."
"Not that. Why did you suddenly choose Citizen Enjolras?"
Eponine gaped at Theodule in disbelief at his audacity. "What is it to you?" she asked, fighting the urge to upend her glass of wine over his head.
"Because I know that once, you would have gladly chosen my cousin. Then me," Theodule said. He tugged at his mustache. "You have always aimed high, Eponine. Is he just another bourgeois boy...?"
"He's a legislator," Eponine retorted.
Theodule waved this away. "What I mean to ask if he is simply another man in a string of affections?"
"A string?"
"Or at least the latest in three and all that within the span of a year?"
Eponine hastily took another sip of her wine, hoping that the heat in her cheeks could be ascribed to her suddenly imbibing. "I don't think this is your place to ask, Citizen," she said firmly.
"Not so long ago, I was convinced you would have given me a favourable response," Theodule said, as if he did not hear her response. "I would not have pursued my suit if you had been less forthcoming. It was always my intention to do so, once I returned from Dijon."
"It never seemed so."
"Perhaps you have simply grown attached to Citizen Enjolras, mainly because of your situation?"
She shook her head even as she tried to sidestep past him again. "You would not understand."
Theodule laughed bitterly. "I know you had some affection for me, however fleeting. I am not a fool; I have reason enough to believe that it could end the very same way again between you and him."
Eponine set aside her wineglass. "You do not know that."
"I only know how quickly you can change, almost like the seasons. A year from now, who will I see you with?" he asked. He looked over his shoulder towards where some of his companions were gesturing to him. "I must go. Good evening to you, Eponine."
Eponine was silent as she watched the lancer walk off to rejoin his friends. 'He shouldn't say such things,' she told herself over and over as she took a seat. Yet after a while the question no longer had the cadence of his voice but now it was her own. She took a few deep breaths as she watched the assembled company, letting the chatter and music blur into a continuous cacophony in her head. Somewhere she heard a clock strike the hour; it was already past ten. 'Still far too early an evening,' she thought, willing herself to get to her feet so she could rejoin her companions.
