-Author's Note-

Hey! Yes, I know, I said I'd post on Fridays but I had some extra time today and cranked out chapter eight, so I decided, why not publish a day early! So here, you go! Chapter eight! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Chapter Eight: The Harvest Ball - Part Two

Riche Manor, Bièrves, France, 1723

Aella stood there for a moment. She hesitated. Her heart was racing and her mind ran through what he was saying. Was this even appropriate? Why was he here? What should I say? Peter wondered why she hesitated. Was she not interested in him? She was gorgeous, but he still considered himself at least decent-looking. Still, she was a chaperone. She was not supposed to decline his offer. Still… she always could.

"Yes, I'd be delighted to dance with you," said Aella, concluding that there couldn't be too much harm in one dance. Mademoiselle Cambout was probably tired.

Peter was relieved. This girl had something about her that made him want to spend every lasting moment with her, learning about her life and her family. He didn't want to be apart from her.

Peter offered Aella his hand. She took it, and the two walked to the dance floor. The band saw that there were many young couples already on the dance floor and started a waltz. Peter bowed to Aella, and she curtsied in return. He took her by the waist and took her hand while she placed her hand on his shoulder. They began to dance to the music. It was slow, and Aella had practiced this dance even in her small room as a child.

They spun around the dance floor. "I guess I don't do this very often," Peter admitted as he tripped over one of his own feet.

Aella laughed. "Me either! Èli-, I mean, mademoiselle Èlise, she helped me to learn these dances last night. I was so worried, but they're quite similar to the dances back from my town."

"Oh! Where are you from?"

"I'm from Meaux, it's not too far from here, about an hour or two from Sceaux."

"Do you miss it? The town, your friends, and your family?" asked Peter sincerely.

"Well, yes, I miss the town. I didn't have many friends…" Aella trailed off. Could she lie to Peter about her family?

Peter noticed her pause. He didn't want to push her, but he wanted to know about her family. Did she have siblings? What were her parents' names? He wanted to understand this girl. There was something about her, something intriguing that lay beneath the surface.

"I do miss my family, I suppose. I was an only child, and my parents were often traveling, but I miss my aunt Geneve, certainly, but I don't know much about my parents. The older I got… the less they were around. I remember when I was little, though, they would spend every hour they could with me."

"That's understandable, of course. My parents are often too busy with the younger ones to spend any time with me, and when they did have the time...well of course I don't remember that."

"Very true, indeed, Monsieur Peter."

"Please, just call me Peter. Everyone thinks I'm so stingy and stiff, having people call me by my whole name, and such, but I don't care all that much. There are much larger matters that could be attended to by the time it takes someone to say 'Monsieur Peter Alexandre De la Roche!'"

Aella laughed. She noticed that the music was changing, something about the same tempo. Aella hoped Peter hadn't noticed the music. She wanted to keep dancing with him. Talking with him. As long as she could.

"What is it like back in Meaux?" Peter asked her, hoping she hadn't heard the change in the music.

"Oh, it's quite lovely! There are the most beautiful cathedrals there, and in the spring there are all sorts of wildflowers! Autumn is my favorite season by fall, though. The trees turn every color of the sunset, and I'd sit outside and sketch them for hours every day!"

"It sounds beautiful there! Perhaps, if I ever go, you shall come with me. You'll know your way around the town much better than I!"

"Mons-, Peter? Could you tell me about your town? I live there now, but I haven't for very long, and I'd love to know more about it!"

"Yes, of course. Well, Sceaux is not the largest town, but it's quite wonderful in that way. There's a theatre downtown, which my maman and papa go to often. In the spring there are the most magnificent cherry blossoms that people come from all over to see! I love it in the winter the most. Everything gets covered in snow, and looks so beautiful! Perhaps, every once in awhile, I'll take you out to see the town. Most people who work in the staff have lived in Sceaux their whole lives, so I'm sure my maman wouldn't mind. Would you like that?"

"Yes, I would! I would love to see the town with you! It sounds so glorious by how you described it."

"I'll be sure to take you out soon!"

Aella wondered what he meant by all of this. Did he want to take her out to town… like as a date? Certainly, that could not be the case. It would be… improper, to say the least. And did she sound too excited? Everything seemed so peculiar and arbitrary to her. She decided to ignore it.

The music changed, once again, to a faster tempo, a gigue. The couples on the dance floor all went to the edges, preparing for the start of the dance. They all bowed to each other, as was customary, and their cue began. The dance gave Aella hardly any time to suck in a breath, it seemed, much less talk to Peter. The heavy dress and heels were not helping. After a painstaking three and a half minute dance, they completed it, and they bowed and curtsied once again.

Aella made the decision to go sit down at a table, or something, for she didn't think she'd be able to stand for very much longer. Dancing was out of the question at this point. Everyone else seemed to decide that the minuet that was beginning was the perfect time to dance, for there were many people headed to the dance floor.

"Well, did you have fun?" asked Èlise.

"I did indeed," Aella said, a little out of breath.

"Those musicians must have played the fastest song in the book!"

"It certainly seems that way!" laughed Aella.

"Don't look now, but Peter is coming our way."

"If he's asking me to dance, I'd better not. But it seems as you have a visitor as well."

It was true. Jacques was heading toward their table. He asked Èlise to dance, and she accepted. They walked off to the dance floor, once again. Peter was behind her, seeing that she obviously wasn't up for dancing, though neither was he.

"Mademoiselle Aella!" he said.

"Oh! Hello, Peter! There's no need to use such titles with my name, I'm not technically here as a party guest."

"I know. But you deserve that sort of a title."

Aella blushed.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to walk with me?"

Aella hesitated. Her feet hurt quite a bit because of the shoes.

"I'd love to walk with you, Peter, but I'm afraid that my feet are hurting too much from these zut shoes!"

"Take them off! I won't mind if you don't!"

Aella laughed and took off her shoes. "Oh my heavens, this is much better!" she said. "Where are we going, I might ask?" she questioned as she took his arm.

"Well, I come here every year for the Harvest Ball, and once, a few years ago, it just felt so stuffy in the ballroom I couldn't take it! So I slipped through a side door, the one we will be going through, and roamed the halls. I would like to do that again… but with you."

Aella blushed again. They walked through the small side door without raising any suspicion and found themselves in a large hall filled with paintings.

"Do you know who these people are?" asked Aella.

"Well, I don't. These are the Riches from the past few hundred years. I've had to study their family so I could be welcome at parties once I'm older. But these parties are so stuffy and frivolous, I don't think I would even come to them."

"How interesting," she said.

"My inability to retain my years of studies in etiquette for a few hours while at a ball?"

"No! Although that is a fascinating subject," she said sarcastically, "the pictures are all done so well. I love sketching, but I don't think I'd ever been able to do something like this."

"Well, based on how immeasurably distracting you are, I'd say that your sketches would be beautiful… if that is what you were going for, of course."

Aella attempted to hide her immense blushing by bringing up a different matter. "You flatter me, Peter, but I do not believe mademoiselle Cambout would appreciate me being here alone with you…."

"Do you think I give a zut about her? I've never been interested in her! It's all for our parent's gain. She's just so… stiff. She's basically lifeless. Acts like everything would please her and she has no opinions! How can someone be able to contain themselves that much?"

Aella was silent for a moment. "What are you going to do about it?"

"What ever I can, honestly."

"Sensible. I cannot spend more than fifteen minutes with people like that. I've tried it."

Peter laughed. "You are quite amusing, mademoiselle…-"

"Delattre. That's my last name. Aella Delattre."

"Well, mademoiselle Delattre. What would you like to see?"

Aella thought about this. "Do you think they have a library?" she asked.

Peter grinned. He grabbed her hand and started running. Aella's hand felt like pure light as if the sun itself had kissed it. Peter thought his hand felt like the fireworks he had seen once. Warm and bright and beautiful in its way. They laughed as they ran, enjoying the light that seemed to be crawling up their arms and reaching every bit of their bodies.

Suddenly, Peter stopped. "I think this is it!" he whispered.

He motioned for her to open the door. Aella reached for the handle and turned it. She opened the door and gasped. She had expected Peter leading her to the library, but this…. This was extraordinary! There were shelves from the floor to the ceiling covered in books. It wasn't a massive room, but it certainly wasn't small. Aella thought she could spend hours there, reading all she's ever wanted to know about the world.

"What do you think?" Peter asked.

"It's amazing! Thank you, Peter! It is truly incredible!"

"I'm glad you like it! I'm also glad you love reading as much as I do. Not many women, much less, no offense, peasant women, know how to read."

"Yes, my aunt taught me how to read and write. My parents did not approve of it, but they were gone so often that they didn't notice. But, thank you, Peter, for bringing me here."

"I'd bring you anywhere just to spend time with you."

"You'd better stop saying things like that," she mused. "Someone could overhear, or I'll start getting the wrong idea."

"No, you won't. No matter what it is, it's the right idea."

"I should probably go back," she said. "Èlise will probably need me or…" she said, trailing off as she started heading towards the door.

Peter grabbed her hand. They both felt that feeling of pure light creep through them. "Stay," he said.

"Peter… I can't."

"I want you to stay. I can't be the only one feeling this, right?"

Aella stared into his eyes, her brown hair cascading down her shoulder. His eyes were the same forest as before, except they were bright with hope.

"I feel it too," she said quietly.

He stared back into her deep, blue eyes. They looked like the ocean, or maybe sapphires. Either way, they were shining back at his brown eyes. He held her hand, and an idea popped into his mind.

"There's somewhere we can go…. We could be alone, we wouldn't have to worry about everything."

Aella gave him a smirk. "I don't think that's appropriate, Monsieur Peter."

He realized how that had sounded and laughed. "Oh, nothing like that! I meant we could walk in the gardens. They have well-lit paths, and they are absolutely beautiful."

"That sounds much better and quite lovely."

Peter offered his arm and Aella simply reached behind him and grabbed his hand. He laughed, and they left the library. They closed the door and were on their way. They found the entrance to the garden, and they went outside. They walked along the path, following the lights. Peter was right, there was no one else outside.

"It's beautiful out here." Aella mused. She was enchanted by the flowers in the small light they had. There were irises, lilies, chrysanthemums, dahlias, coneflowers, sunflowers, and roses of every color all around, giving the night air an even sweeter smell.

"Do you know what else is beautiful?" Peter asked.

Aella, thinking he meant maybe a fountain or a spectacular tree she'd somehow missed asked, "What?"

"You, my chérie, are the most beautiful thing in this garden."

Aella blushed. "You're quite eyecatching yourself, Monsieur Peter."

"Oh, well, mademoiselle Delattre, I'd like to show you something off of the path, if that's all right."

"Peter… I don't have any shoes on."

"I suppose I'll have to carry you then!"

"What! No, Peter, that cannot end well, and you know it." He scooped her up and carried her over, behind a bush, while she complained. Once he set her down, he told her to sit down and be quiet.

"Peter, what is the meaning of this?" she whispered.

"Watch."

He brushed his hand through the long grass that was blowing in the breeze. Fireflies suddenly started glowing and flying all around them. It was one of the most magnificent sights Aella had ever seen. She watched as the fireflies flew around them, dancing to a song only they could hear. She didn't notice Peter sit right next to her until she felt his warm, electrifying hand around her waist.

"It's beautiful. I've never seen fireflies before, I've only heard about them, and I read about them in a book once. It's so much better in person." she said quietly, leaning into him.

Her hair blew in the soft breeze, looking beautiful as ever. Peter felt her lean into him and decided there was only one way this could get any better. He looked away from the fireflies that were slowly starting to disappear, and he took Aella's cheek in his palm.

Aella looked away from the light show as Peter took her cheek in his hand. She knew how this was going, and she didn't object. She looked into his eyes and saw him closing in on her. She closed her eyes and felt their lips collide. And it was more than she had ever imagined. It was fireworks and rainy days, sunshine and winter winds, snow-capped mountains and the beach in the summer, flowers and lightning, air and the rainbow, freshly baked cookies and beautiful paintings, that new book smell, and every holiday rolled into one. It was everything.

They stayed like that for a few moments, until they both pulled away, realizing that they'd need air at some point.

"Did you enjoy that?" Peter asked, hoping Aella had felt what he felt.

"Peter, it was perfect! I loved it, I love all of this I love you…" she trailed off, feeling embarrassed that she'd said that out loud. She blushed a deep crimson color.

Peter stared at her. She was beautiful. Her hair blowing in the wind, her dress fitting her just right, her beautiful eyes like the ocean, her ruby red lips that he had kissed.

"I love you too," he said softly. He didn't think about Madeline Cambout, he didn't think about what his parents would say, he didn't think about anything except his love for this girl. This beautiful girl, who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. "I know it seems fast, but I think this is it."

"What is it?" she asked, pure joy radiating through her voice.

"I think you are it." he paused. "I think you are the one."

-Author's Note-

So I know that this seems like a perfect happy ending, but we aren't at the end. Not at all. I have about a million ideas on how to do this, but if anybody has any suggestions, I would love to hear them! If I decide to include any of them, I'll make sure to credit whoever came up with the idea! Thanks for reading! (Sorry there were two notes, I couldn't really combine them without it being super weird.)