Disclaimer: Who knows they don't belong to me?
The room was quiet with exception of Satine's fake sobs. Annette looked pretty shocked, as did Evelyn. Christian blinked a few times before coughing.
Satine sniffled and smiled. "You must think me a silly goose for bursting into tears like that. I'm terribly sorry."
Jeremy nodded a bit dazedly. "No, not at all, dear." The word 'dear' sounded strange and foreign when uttered by him. Christian stepped forwards and gently took Satine's arm.
"Come, darling, let's go upstairs." He led Satine up the stairs and into his room. She sat down on his bed, grinning mischievously.
"We're going to hell for that, you know." Christian said matter-of-factly. "You lied about us being married, about the house, about the honeymoon, about your parents-"
Satine laid down on the bed. "You worry too much."
Christian flopped down besides her. "We have a one-way ticket to hell now."
"Funny," Satine said, turning her head to look at him. "I thought you were my redemption card." she kissed him softly.
Christian pulled away. "And what was that Julia bit back there?" he sat up indignantly. "I mean, what was that? 'My name's Julia.'" he mimicked. "You certainly are a wonderful actress, Satine."
She rolled over, looking down at the coverlet and tracing the pattern. "That's my name, Christian." Tears were brimming in her eyes. "I haven't even said it since I was fourteen. But that's who I am. Was. Am. Whatever." She took a deep breath, as if afraid to say it. "I'm Julia." she repeated it a few more times, as if savoring her own name. "Jullllllllia. Juuuuuuuuulia. Juliiiiiiia. Juliaaaaa." She shook her head at herself. "I don't even think of myself as Julia anymore. I think of myself as Satine." she laughed bitterly. "How pathetic is that? I've lost my own identity." She spoke aloud, but not directing towards anyone. "How can I expect myself to answer to Julia when I call myself Satine?" She drew her knees to her chest, curling up in a ball. "Can I ever be Julia again?"
Christian sat down behind her, letting an arm drape over her waist.
"Who is Julia?" he asked innocently.
"Someone who I used to be." she said cryptically.
~*~
Annette was sitting in the parlor, practicing the piano. She was going fine until she came to a certain note. She messed up, sighed, and started the part again. Again, when she hit a particular note she messed up.
A hand reached over her shoulder and hit a few keys, producing the portion of the song Annette was having trouble with.
She looked over her shoulder, smiling at Christian. She imitated his movement over the keys. This time, she got it right.
"I've been working on that for weeks."
Christian smiled. "Easy." He sat down next to her on the piano bench.
Annette wrinkled her nose. "You have an ear for music, for languages, and you can write all sorts of things. I hardly think it's fair that you got all the talent in this family."
"I can't whine like you can." Christian pointed out.
Annette pouted. "Christiannnnnn." she whined. Christian laughed. After a moment, so did Annette.
When they had finished, Annette looked around the room. "Where's Satine? And what was with that Julia business?"
"That's her real name." Christian said, still sounding a bit dazed over the whole affair.
"And you didn't know?" Annette said in disgust. "That's contemptible."
"Thank you, Annette." Christian said sarcastically.
Annette peered around. "Where is she, anyway?"
Christian shrugged. "All her plotting wore her out. She's taking a nap."
Annette smiled. "She's awful talented. More so than you. And besides, it's for the best. I mean, if Papa knew what I knew..."
Christian pinched her lightly. "And you don't know anything, do you, my maid?"
Annette pouted. "No. And I hate when you call me that."
"What?"
"My maid. You make me sound like one of the help."
"You shouldn't sound so condescending, Annette. It's vulgar. And quite unattractive."
Annette paid him no mind. "I still hate it. You're calling me a domestic. And you've been calling me it for years and I still can't figure out why."
Christian sighed. "'Maid' is another word for 'girl', my darling ignoramus."
Annette smirked. "I blame my ignorance on Papa, who refuses to allow my governesses to teach me anything but poetry, German, and manners."
"Which need a little work, maid." Christian pointed out.
Annette was about to hit him when she smiled. "Sa-" she was stopped by a sharp jab in her ribs with Christian's elbow. "Julia. Julia! Hi!"
Satine stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She looked about five years younger. "Hi." she said softly. She crossed the room to sit on the couch. Christian stood up and sat down next to her. They kissed, and Annette looked away, pretending to be enraptured in her sheet of music.
"Christian?" came Satine's voice suddenly. Annette figured it was safe to turn around, and did so. Satine had her head resting on Christian's shoulder, and Christian has his head on top of hers.
"Hmm?" asked Christian.
"Can you show me around the house?"
Annette jumped up. "Ooh! Christie! Let's give her the tour!"
Christian sat up straight and clapped his hands. "Ooh! Yes!" he said in an overly-excited voice. He quirked an eyebrow and leaned back. "Let's not."
Annette furrowed her brow. "Come onnnnnnnn." she pleaded. "Sa- Julia does."
Satine nodded. "Uh-huh. I do. Please?" She stood up, standing next to Annette. The both made puppy eyes at Christian.
"Please?" they whined in unison.
Christian groaned. "Not fair."
Satine smirked. "I don't care. Now, get up, and give me a tour." she pulled him to his feet.
"How come I know I'm going to regret this?"
~*~
"And this is where Christian threw up after eating all of Mamma's raspberry tarts she made for her society tea party." Annette relayed joyfully. They were standing in the hall.
"I didn't eat them all." Christian objected.
Annette smiled knowingly. "That's right. He gave one to me. He ate everything else."
Satine dissolved into giggles.
"That's," she pointed to the painting. "The family portrait we had done just before Christian left. Papa doesn't believe in photographs. Mamma likes them, though. We have a few. Papa insists on family portraits. This way."
They walked into the next room. It was the parlor, the room they had just left. "The parlor." Annette announced, before ushering them to the next room.
"The dining room." she said. Satine was enchanted.
In the middle of the room was a long table of gleaming wood with a white linen table runner. The chairs were carved elaborately and upholstered with red velvet. The most impressive was the one the one at the farthest end of the table. Satine assumed with a giggle that the chair was where King Jeremy took his meals.
Four portraits adorned the wall- one of a young girl standing outside with a parasol, another of a little boy in a sailor suit holding a toy boat, another boy's serious face, and the oldest boy with a book in his hand.
"Let me guess," Satine said. "Annette, Thomas, Gregory, Christian."
Annette smiled. "Yes. Mamma has our portraits done every two years. Christian's due for one."
"Where do all the other ones go?" asked Satine dazedly. Christian was 20, that was 10 portraits right there. Annette was 16, that was 8, Gregory was 18, that was 9, and Thomas was 13, that was 6. "That's 30-some portraits!"
Both Annette and Christian cocked their heads and started to do the math. They both arrived with the answer at the same time. "About." they said in unison.
"All over the place," said Annette. "I have one of me in my room, they go in the guest rooms, parlors, hallways, bedrooms... it all depends." she smirked. "Mamma has one of Christian in her room. That and a family portrait. She loves Christie the best, doesn't she?"
Christian looked at Annette witheringly. "That's not true."
"Is too."
Christian rolled his eyes.
Annette stomped her foot. "You're supposed to say 'is too'." she complained. "Fine. Don't play. This way we have..."
~*~
Satine bit her nails on one hand nervously, smoothing down her hair with her free hand. She forced herself to stop biting, and looked in the mirror tensely. She was on display tonight.
Dressed in a modest dark blue silk dress with three strands of pearls, she looked ethereal and respectful. Her hair was pinned up, and the dress set off her pale skin to perfection. Looking in the mirror, she knew she looked fine.
"You look fine." Christian said, echoing her thoughts. He had just finished putting on his suit. Apparently Jeremy was very strict about dinner time appearance. He picked up a tie.
"What if I say something wrong?" she said anxiously. "Or if I forget to answer to my name?"
"You won't. You never do. And-" he paused here, struggling with his tie. "since you're so worried about it, you'll jump whenever anyone says your name."
Satine moved closer to tie the bow. "I hope you're right. I feel as though I'm on display or something."
"And you're not used to it by now?" Christian asked. Satine poked him in the stomach. "Honestly, darling, it's not as though we bite. Father is all bark and no bite, Mamma adores you, Annette idolizes you, Thomas is still and awe and can't string three words together in your presence, and Greg is just- just ignore Greg, okay?" Christian grabbed her wrist and forced her to look at him. "I mean it."
Satine raised an amused eyebrow at him, her fear momentarily subdued. "The true evil one of your family?" she asked.
"Greg is a jealous person, dearest. He will say all sorts of mean things to you. He is a mean spirited person. Don't pay him any mind, and don't show him how it hurts. That's his ammunition. Even if you're going to scream, wait until you're out of his sight. That's all the advice I can give you on the Deveraux family."
"Well," Satine said, putting her arms around his neck. "The father seems alright, the mother is a doll, I don't care much for the second son, don't have much of an opinion on the youngest, and adore the daughter- but I personally prefer the eldest son above the others."
"Oh, do you?" asked Christian, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Um-hmm." Satine nodded. She moved closer to him. "I also like-" she leaned in for the kiss, but there was a rat-a-tat-tat at the door. Satine jumped away as though she had been touched by fire.
"Christian? Julia? Dinner time!" called out Annette.
"Coming!" they replied in unison.
Satine's anxiety returned. She smoothed down her dress. "How do I look?" she asked.
Christian smiled lovingly at her. "Beautiful. Come on. No need to be frightened. Father likes you. If he likes you, that's all you need. Trust me."
The dining room was even more lovely when the chandelier illuminated. There were candles under all the portraits, giving them an almost frighteningly lifelike quality, with their bright eyes and smiling expressions. The crystal from the chandelier sent down rainbows of colors that danced on the china and the cut crystal glasses. The snowy linen was folded into an elaborate shape on the plate, which had a floral pattern was rimmed with gold.
Christian pulled out the middle chair on the side closest to the door. Satine slid in, and he pushed it in. Taking the seat next to her, he took her hand and squeezed it.
'Everything's going to be alright,' he mouthed. She nodded.
Annette ran in next. When she saw she wasn't late, she let her shoulders drop in a sigh of relief. She smiled at Christian and Satine, and plopped into the chair next to her.
"Good evening," she said breathlessly. She put a hand to her chest, crushing the delicate lilac muslin. "I thought I was going to be late. And Papa hates it when I'm late." She breathed in again. "Whew. What a rush."
Thomas skidded into the room next, silently siting across from Annette. He sat down, and Annette winced.
"Stop kicking!" she said angrily.
"I didn't!"
Annette gripped the sides of her chair and kicked. Thomas howled. "Ow!" He kicked back.
"Ow!" she squealed.
"Children!" thundered Christian. "Are you out of your minds? Knock it off!"
"He started it," said Annette sullenly, slumping into her chair.
"Did not." said Thomas in a nyah-nyah tone.
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Annette." said Christian in a low, dangerous tone. "You're older. Stop it."
Gregory strolled in. He leisurely took in Christian's authoritative pose, Thomas' hurt expression, and Annette's sulky position. "Problems?" he asked silkily.
Annette sat up and pasted a falsely bright grin on. "Now that you're here, yes."
Gregory sighed in mock despair. "To think how calm dinner was when you weren't here, Annette."
"To think how much better my digestion was when you weren't near me, Gregory." she shot back sweetly. Satine quickly transformed her laughter into a cough.
"Retorts such as that are hardly the works of a lady, Annie." chastised Gregory.
"Goading ladies on is hardly the work of a gentleman, Greg."
Gregory made a motion as if to say 'see?'
"A woman's sword is in her tongue," quoted Annette. "And she does not let it rust."
Gregory was about to reply when Jeremy entered, majestically escorting Evelyn.
Jeremy was a good foot and a half taller than Evelyn was, and she looked positively birdlike next to imposing Jeremy. He surveyed the scene imperiously.
"Good evening." he said austerely.
"Good evening," chorused Gregory, Thomas, Annette, Satine and Christian.
Jeremy pulled out the chair at the head of the table near Annette, and Evelyn sat down daintily. The manservant who had followed them in and draped a napkin on her lap. That was everyone else's cue to put their napkins on their laps.
Jeremy moved to the other end of the table and was sitting down at the most impressive chair at the head. He motioned to the servant standing at the door, who in turn rang a bronze bell. A train of servants filed in, each laden down with platters of food.
Satine looked around dazedly. She had never seen anything like this. She felt so simple and country. Annette seemed bored, tapping her fingers on the table until Evelyn gently put her hand over Annette's to stop her. Annette was used to this, she had seen it her whole life. This was nothing new. Evelyn was a true lady, smiling benevolently at all the servants. Thomas seemed anxious to eat, Gregory was glancing at the servants with contempt, Jeremy was oblivious to all around him and was looking around the table.
Their eyes met, and they held for a few seconds until Satine dropped her gaze, a blush creeping to her cheeks. Her hand moved from her lap to find Christian's. She found it and gripped it nervously.
As quickly as the servants had appeared, they were gone, and Satine looked to find her plate full as though by magic. A beautiful, salad was in the bowl, laden with beautiful slices of a juicy tomato and delicate shavings of carrots and other edible adornments, and topped off with a light vinaigrette. Next to the bowl was a plate with a smoking roll that smelled heavenly.
Satine ventured to look up and around the table. Evelyn had her hands pressed together, and was motioning for the others to do the same. Christian folded his hands, as did Annette and Thomas. Reluctantly, Jeremy put his hands together. Groaning, Gregory did as well. Christian coughed softly and cleared his throat. Jumping, Satine did the same.
"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit," said Evelyn, crossing herself. Everyone followed her. "Bless us, oh Lord, and these Your gifts, which we are about to receive from Your bounty through Christ Our Loud, Amen."
"Amen." repeated the rest of the table. Evelyn picked up her fork and took a bite of her salad. As usual, the rest of the table followed her example.
Dinner was remarkably and oddly frightening. Courses lasted for an eternity with the pleasant chatter Satine was accustomed to from her months in the mountains. Annette, normally so animated, was subdued to silence. Gregory's sarcasm was silenced. Thomas didn't attempt to look anywhere but his plate. Christian seemed slightly agitated at this silent, which he no doubt remembered from his childhood. Jeremy regulated the conversations, at first speaking only to Evelyn, then only to Gregory. And then, out of the blue, he turned to Satine, who paled.
"And you, Miss Julia? How do you like England?"
Satine quickly swallowed her forkful of roasted pheasant. "I enjoy England very much, Mr. Deveraux."
"Rather hasty judgment, considering you haven't seen anything but London and the mountains."
Annette almost choked. That last sentence out of her father had almost sounded pleasant!
Satine smiled hestiatantly at him. "Yes, sir, but I like it just the same."
"This summer you'll see the seashore. And the country in the spring is better than any mountains."
Satine looked at him oddly. "Will I?"
"Well," said Jeremy, pausing his fork over his fowl. "We go every year to those places. Do you not want to?"
Satine shook her head quickly. "Oh, yes, Mr. Deveraux. I'd love to go."
He nodded. "Of course, after you're married. Do you have any preferance as to when, Miss Julia?"
"As soon as possible," she responded quickly.
"And you'll want to invite family, I suppose." he said.
Satine shook her head. "I have no family."
"I know your parents died, lass, but what about other people?"
Satine bit her lip pensively. "I have none-" she paused for a moment, and idea coming to mind. "Except for my Uncle Harold and Aunt Marie."
Jeremy nodded. "They'll attend, of course."
Satine nodded as well. "I suppose they will, Mr. Deveraux."
"Then it's settled. I'll have Father Langston over for supper tomorrow- tell the cook that, Evie. And, by the way, Miss Julia-" he hesitated. "Call me Father."
Satine felt a blush rise to her cheeks with pride. "Certainly, Father."
Jeremy rose from the table, signaling that dinner was over. "Christian, I need to speak with you."
Christian blinked, startled. "Of course, Father." he got up and started after Jeremy. He looked over at Satine and smiled.
~*~
Jeremy's office was furnished with shelves made of dark cherrywood and burdened with volumes of thick books. There was an imposing desk that was made of the same wood and covered with neat piles of paper and ledgers filled with neat little columns of numbers. There was a dark green carpet and a dark green leather chair. The heavy curtains were green. There was a white marble bust of Caesar. Over the dark green marble fireplace was a portrait of Evelyn on their wedding day.
All in all, the room was not exactly a welcoming one.
Christian stood there nervously, waiting for his father to turn, which he did a few minutes later. He had been standing over his desk, studying a ledger.
"I disowned you, Christian." he said slowly.
Christian nodded. "I know that, Father."
"I took you out of my will." he continued.
Christian nodded again. "I expected that, Father."
Jeremy shut the ledger and moved around to the other side of the desk. "I was certain you would never come back, and waste your life in Montmartre. You have much potential, Christian."
Christian swallowed and nodded. "I know, Father."
"When you left, Christian, you were determined to prove me wrong. What happened to your dream of becoming a writer?"
"I still have them, Father." he said, his voice becoming more relaxed.
"Then what happened?" Jeremy sounded oddly gentle.
"I fell in love, Father." Christian replied easily.
"Would you have returned if she had not been ill?"
Christian shook his head. "No, Father."
"And why not?"
Christian held his head high. "Julia knew what I wanted to do with my life, and she approved."
"So you would allow a lady of her culture to destroy her place in society to marry you? Has your mother and I taught you nothing, Christian?"
"We love one another, Father."
"I understand that, Christian."
"Father, I am aware that you do not approve of me. Believe me, had it been my choice, I would have never come here. But Julia was sick, and I had no where else to go. I will leave if you want me."
Jeremy was silent for a moment, before chuckling. "You are just like me, Christian."
Christian looked at him, surprised.
"Determined. Won't take nonsense from anyone. Even," he looked hard at his son. "Your venerable father." he waved a hand. "I have returned you to my will, Christian. You will receive your fortune, under the stipulation that you watch after your sister, as previously stated. Go ahead. Marry the girl. Go abroad for your honeymoon. But when you return-" he watched his son with eyes as cold and as hard as steel. "You will help me run the family business."
Christian took his time thinking. "I need to think this over." he said carefully.
"What is there to think over?" thundered Jeremy.
Christian raised his chin. "I will discuss this with my wife. Excuse me."
With that, he left his father's office. He would have felt completely discouraged, had it not been for the small detail that elated him.
His father liked Satine.
The room was quiet with exception of Satine's fake sobs. Annette looked pretty shocked, as did Evelyn. Christian blinked a few times before coughing.
Satine sniffled and smiled. "You must think me a silly goose for bursting into tears like that. I'm terribly sorry."
Jeremy nodded a bit dazedly. "No, not at all, dear." The word 'dear' sounded strange and foreign when uttered by him. Christian stepped forwards and gently took Satine's arm.
"Come, darling, let's go upstairs." He led Satine up the stairs and into his room. She sat down on his bed, grinning mischievously.
"We're going to hell for that, you know." Christian said matter-of-factly. "You lied about us being married, about the house, about the honeymoon, about your parents-"
Satine laid down on the bed. "You worry too much."
Christian flopped down besides her. "We have a one-way ticket to hell now."
"Funny," Satine said, turning her head to look at him. "I thought you were my redemption card." she kissed him softly.
Christian pulled away. "And what was that Julia bit back there?" he sat up indignantly. "I mean, what was that? 'My name's Julia.'" he mimicked. "You certainly are a wonderful actress, Satine."
She rolled over, looking down at the coverlet and tracing the pattern. "That's my name, Christian." Tears were brimming in her eyes. "I haven't even said it since I was fourteen. But that's who I am. Was. Am. Whatever." She took a deep breath, as if afraid to say it. "I'm Julia." she repeated it a few more times, as if savoring her own name. "Jullllllllia. Juuuuuuuuulia. Juliiiiiiia. Juliaaaaa." She shook her head at herself. "I don't even think of myself as Julia anymore. I think of myself as Satine." she laughed bitterly. "How pathetic is that? I've lost my own identity." She spoke aloud, but not directing towards anyone. "How can I expect myself to answer to Julia when I call myself Satine?" She drew her knees to her chest, curling up in a ball. "Can I ever be Julia again?"
Christian sat down behind her, letting an arm drape over her waist.
"Who is Julia?" he asked innocently.
"Someone who I used to be." she said cryptically.
~*~
Annette was sitting in the parlor, practicing the piano. She was going fine until she came to a certain note. She messed up, sighed, and started the part again. Again, when she hit a particular note she messed up.
A hand reached over her shoulder and hit a few keys, producing the portion of the song Annette was having trouble with.
She looked over her shoulder, smiling at Christian. She imitated his movement over the keys. This time, she got it right.
"I've been working on that for weeks."
Christian smiled. "Easy." He sat down next to her on the piano bench.
Annette wrinkled her nose. "You have an ear for music, for languages, and you can write all sorts of things. I hardly think it's fair that you got all the talent in this family."
"I can't whine like you can." Christian pointed out.
Annette pouted. "Christiannnnnn." she whined. Christian laughed. After a moment, so did Annette.
When they had finished, Annette looked around the room. "Where's Satine? And what was with that Julia business?"
"That's her real name." Christian said, still sounding a bit dazed over the whole affair.
"And you didn't know?" Annette said in disgust. "That's contemptible."
"Thank you, Annette." Christian said sarcastically.
Annette peered around. "Where is she, anyway?"
Christian shrugged. "All her plotting wore her out. She's taking a nap."
Annette smiled. "She's awful talented. More so than you. And besides, it's for the best. I mean, if Papa knew what I knew..."
Christian pinched her lightly. "And you don't know anything, do you, my maid?"
Annette pouted. "No. And I hate when you call me that."
"What?"
"My maid. You make me sound like one of the help."
"You shouldn't sound so condescending, Annette. It's vulgar. And quite unattractive."
Annette paid him no mind. "I still hate it. You're calling me a domestic. And you've been calling me it for years and I still can't figure out why."
Christian sighed. "'Maid' is another word for 'girl', my darling ignoramus."
Annette smirked. "I blame my ignorance on Papa, who refuses to allow my governesses to teach me anything but poetry, German, and manners."
"Which need a little work, maid." Christian pointed out.
Annette was about to hit him when she smiled. "Sa-" she was stopped by a sharp jab in her ribs with Christian's elbow. "Julia. Julia! Hi!"
Satine stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She looked about five years younger. "Hi." she said softly. She crossed the room to sit on the couch. Christian stood up and sat down next to her. They kissed, and Annette looked away, pretending to be enraptured in her sheet of music.
"Christian?" came Satine's voice suddenly. Annette figured it was safe to turn around, and did so. Satine had her head resting on Christian's shoulder, and Christian has his head on top of hers.
"Hmm?" asked Christian.
"Can you show me around the house?"
Annette jumped up. "Ooh! Christie! Let's give her the tour!"
Christian sat up straight and clapped his hands. "Ooh! Yes!" he said in an overly-excited voice. He quirked an eyebrow and leaned back. "Let's not."
Annette furrowed her brow. "Come onnnnnnnn." she pleaded. "Sa- Julia does."
Satine nodded. "Uh-huh. I do. Please?" She stood up, standing next to Annette. The both made puppy eyes at Christian.
"Please?" they whined in unison.
Christian groaned. "Not fair."
Satine smirked. "I don't care. Now, get up, and give me a tour." she pulled him to his feet.
"How come I know I'm going to regret this?"
~*~
"And this is where Christian threw up after eating all of Mamma's raspberry tarts she made for her society tea party." Annette relayed joyfully. They were standing in the hall.
"I didn't eat them all." Christian objected.
Annette smiled knowingly. "That's right. He gave one to me. He ate everything else."
Satine dissolved into giggles.
"That's," she pointed to the painting. "The family portrait we had done just before Christian left. Papa doesn't believe in photographs. Mamma likes them, though. We have a few. Papa insists on family portraits. This way."
They walked into the next room. It was the parlor, the room they had just left. "The parlor." Annette announced, before ushering them to the next room.
"The dining room." she said. Satine was enchanted.
In the middle of the room was a long table of gleaming wood with a white linen table runner. The chairs were carved elaborately and upholstered with red velvet. The most impressive was the one the one at the farthest end of the table. Satine assumed with a giggle that the chair was where King Jeremy took his meals.
Four portraits adorned the wall- one of a young girl standing outside with a parasol, another of a little boy in a sailor suit holding a toy boat, another boy's serious face, and the oldest boy with a book in his hand.
"Let me guess," Satine said. "Annette, Thomas, Gregory, Christian."
Annette smiled. "Yes. Mamma has our portraits done every two years. Christian's due for one."
"Where do all the other ones go?" asked Satine dazedly. Christian was 20, that was 10 portraits right there. Annette was 16, that was 8, Gregory was 18, that was 9, and Thomas was 13, that was 6. "That's 30-some portraits!"
Both Annette and Christian cocked their heads and started to do the math. They both arrived with the answer at the same time. "About." they said in unison.
"All over the place," said Annette. "I have one of me in my room, they go in the guest rooms, parlors, hallways, bedrooms... it all depends." she smirked. "Mamma has one of Christian in her room. That and a family portrait. She loves Christie the best, doesn't she?"
Christian looked at Annette witheringly. "That's not true."
"Is too."
Christian rolled his eyes.
Annette stomped her foot. "You're supposed to say 'is too'." she complained. "Fine. Don't play. This way we have..."
~*~
Satine bit her nails on one hand nervously, smoothing down her hair with her free hand. She forced herself to stop biting, and looked in the mirror tensely. She was on display tonight.
Dressed in a modest dark blue silk dress with three strands of pearls, she looked ethereal and respectful. Her hair was pinned up, and the dress set off her pale skin to perfection. Looking in the mirror, she knew she looked fine.
"You look fine." Christian said, echoing her thoughts. He had just finished putting on his suit. Apparently Jeremy was very strict about dinner time appearance. He picked up a tie.
"What if I say something wrong?" she said anxiously. "Or if I forget to answer to my name?"
"You won't. You never do. And-" he paused here, struggling with his tie. "since you're so worried about it, you'll jump whenever anyone says your name."
Satine moved closer to tie the bow. "I hope you're right. I feel as though I'm on display or something."
"And you're not used to it by now?" Christian asked. Satine poked him in the stomach. "Honestly, darling, it's not as though we bite. Father is all bark and no bite, Mamma adores you, Annette idolizes you, Thomas is still and awe and can't string three words together in your presence, and Greg is just- just ignore Greg, okay?" Christian grabbed her wrist and forced her to look at him. "I mean it."
Satine raised an amused eyebrow at him, her fear momentarily subdued. "The true evil one of your family?" she asked.
"Greg is a jealous person, dearest. He will say all sorts of mean things to you. He is a mean spirited person. Don't pay him any mind, and don't show him how it hurts. That's his ammunition. Even if you're going to scream, wait until you're out of his sight. That's all the advice I can give you on the Deveraux family."
"Well," Satine said, putting her arms around his neck. "The father seems alright, the mother is a doll, I don't care much for the second son, don't have much of an opinion on the youngest, and adore the daughter- but I personally prefer the eldest son above the others."
"Oh, do you?" asked Christian, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Um-hmm." Satine nodded. She moved closer to him. "I also like-" she leaned in for the kiss, but there was a rat-a-tat-tat at the door. Satine jumped away as though she had been touched by fire.
"Christian? Julia? Dinner time!" called out Annette.
"Coming!" they replied in unison.
Satine's anxiety returned. She smoothed down her dress. "How do I look?" she asked.
Christian smiled lovingly at her. "Beautiful. Come on. No need to be frightened. Father likes you. If he likes you, that's all you need. Trust me."
The dining room was even more lovely when the chandelier illuminated. There were candles under all the portraits, giving them an almost frighteningly lifelike quality, with their bright eyes and smiling expressions. The crystal from the chandelier sent down rainbows of colors that danced on the china and the cut crystal glasses. The snowy linen was folded into an elaborate shape on the plate, which had a floral pattern was rimmed with gold.
Christian pulled out the middle chair on the side closest to the door. Satine slid in, and he pushed it in. Taking the seat next to her, he took her hand and squeezed it.
'Everything's going to be alright,' he mouthed. She nodded.
Annette ran in next. When she saw she wasn't late, she let her shoulders drop in a sigh of relief. She smiled at Christian and Satine, and plopped into the chair next to her.
"Good evening," she said breathlessly. She put a hand to her chest, crushing the delicate lilac muslin. "I thought I was going to be late. And Papa hates it when I'm late." She breathed in again. "Whew. What a rush."
Thomas skidded into the room next, silently siting across from Annette. He sat down, and Annette winced.
"Stop kicking!" she said angrily.
"I didn't!"
Annette gripped the sides of her chair and kicked. Thomas howled. "Ow!" He kicked back.
"Ow!" she squealed.
"Children!" thundered Christian. "Are you out of your minds? Knock it off!"
"He started it," said Annette sullenly, slumping into her chair.
"Did not." said Thomas in a nyah-nyah tone.
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Annette." said Christian in a low, dangerous tone. "You're older. Stop it."
Gregory strolled in. He leisurely took in Christian's authoritative pose, Thomas' hurt expression, and Annette's sulky position. "Problems?" he asked silkily.
Annette sat up and pasted a falsely bright grin on. "Now that you're here, yes."
Gregory sighed in mock despair. "To think how calm dinner was when you weren't here, Annette."
"To think how much better my digestion was when you weren't near me, Gregory." she shot back sweetly. Satine quickly transformed her laughter into a cough.
"Retorts such as that are hardly the works of a lady, Annie." chastised Gregory.
"Goading ladies on is hardly the work of a gentleman, Greg."
Gregory made a motion as if to say 'see?'
"A woman's sword is in her tongue," quoted Annette. "And she does not let it rust."
Gregory was about to reply when Jeremy entered, majestically escorting Evelyn.
Jeremy was a good foot and a half taller than Evelyn was, and she looked positively birdlike next to imposing Jeremy. He surveyed the scene imperiously.
"Good evening." he said austerely.
"Good evening," chorused Gregory, Thomas, Annette, Satine and Christian.
Jeremy pulled out the chair at the head of the table near Annette, and Evelyn sat down daintily. The manservant who had followed them in and draped a napkin on her lap. That was everyone else's cue to put their napkins on their laps.
Jeremy moved to the other end of the table and was sitting down at the most impressive chair at the head. He motioned to the servant standing at the door, who in turn rang a bronze bell. A train of servants filed in, each laden down with platters of food.
Satine looked around dazedly. She had never seen anything like this. She felt so simple and country. Annette seemed bored, tapping her fingers on the table until Evelyn gently put her hand over Annette's to stop her. Annette was used to this, she had seen it her whole life. This was nothing new. Evelyn was a true lady, smiling benevolently at all the servants. Thomas seemed anxious to eat, Gregory was glancing at the servants with contempt, Jeremy was oblivious to all around him and was looking around the table.
Their eyes met, and they held for a few seconds until Satine dropped her gaze, a blush creeping to her cheeks. Her hand moved from her lap to find Christian's. She found it and gripped it nervously.
As quickly as the servants had appeared, they were gone, and Satine looked to find her plate full as though by magic. A beautiful, salad was in the bowl, laden with beautiful slices of a juicy tomato and delicate shavings of carrots and other edible adornments, and topped off with a light vinaigrette. Next to the bowl was a plate with a smoking roll that smelled heavenly.
Satine ventured to look up and around the table. Evelyn had her hands pressed together, and was motioning for the others to do the same. Christian folded his hands, as did Annette and Thomas. Reluctantly, Jeremy put his hands together. Groaning, Gregory did as well. Christian coughed softly and cleared his throat. Jumping, Satine did the same.
"In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit," said Evelyn, crossing herself. Everyone followed her. "Bless us, oh Lord, and these Your gifts, which we are about to receive from Your bounty through Christ Our Loud, Amen."
"Amen." repeated the rest of the table. Evelyn picked up her fork and took a bite of her salad. As usual, the rest of the table followed her example.
Dinner was remarkably and oddly frightening. Courses lasted for an eternity with the pleasant chatter Satine was accustomed to from her months in the mountains. Annette, normally so animated, was subdued to silence. Gregory's sarcasm was silenced. Thomas didn't attempt to look anywhere but his plate. Christian seemed slightly agitated at this silent, which he no doubt remembered from his childhood. Jeremy regulated the conversations, at first speaking only to Evelyn, then only to Gregory. And then, out of the blue, he turned to Satine, who paled.
"And you, Miss Julia? How do you like England?"
Satine quickly swallowed her forkful of roasted pheasant. "I enjoy England very much, Mr. Deveraux."
"Rather hasty judgment, considering you haven't seen anything but London and the mountains."
Annette almost choked. That last sentence out of her father had almost sounded pleasant!
Satine smiled hestiatantly at him. "Yes, sir, but I like it just the same."
"This summer you'll see the seashore. And the country in the spring is better than any mountains."
Satine looked at him oddly. "Will I?"
"Well," said Jeremy, pausing his fork over his fowl. "We go every year to those places. Do you not want to?"
Satine shook her head quickly. "Oh, yes, Mr. Deveraux. I'd love to go."
He nodded. "Of course, after you're married. Do you have any preferance as to when, Miss Julia?"
"As soon as possible," she responded quickly.
"And you'll want to invite family, I suppose." he said.
Satine shook her head. "I have no family."
"I know your parents died, lass, but what about other people?"
Satine bit her lip pensively. "I have none-" she paused for a moment, and idea coming to mind. "Except for my Uncle Harold and Aunt Marie."
Jeremy nodded. "They'll attend, of course."
Satine nodded as well. "I suppose they will, Mr. Deveraux."
"Then it's settled. I'll have Father Langston over for supper tomorrow- tell the cook that, Evie. And, by the way, Miss Julia-" he hesitated. "Call me Father."
Satine felt a blush rise to her cheeks with pride. "Certainly, Father."
Jeremy rose from the table, signaling that dinner was over. "Christian, I need to speak with you."
Christian blinked, startled. "Of course, Father." he got up and started after Jeremy. He looked over at Satine and smiled.
~*~
Jeremy's office was furnished with shelves made of dark cherrywood and burdened with volumes of thick books. There was an imposing desk that was made of the same wood and covered with neat piles of paper and ledgers filled with neat little columns of numbers. There was a dark green carpet and a dark green leather chair. The heavy curtains were green. There was a white marble bust of Caesar. Over the dark green marble fireplace was a portrait of Evelyn on their wedding day.
All in all, the room was not exactly a welcoming one.
Christian stood there nervously, waiting for his father to turn, which he did a few minutes later. He had been standing over his desk, studying a ledger.
"I disowned you, Christian." he said slowly.
Christian nodded. "I know that, Father."
"I took you out of my will." he continued.
Christian nodded again. "I expected that, Father."
Jeremy shut the ledger and moved around to the other side of the desk. "I was certain you would never come back, and waste your life in Montmartre. You have much potential, Christian."
Christian swallowed and nodded. "I know, Father."
"When you left, Christian, you were determined to prove me wrong. What happened to your dream of becoming a writer?"
"I still have them, Father." he said, his voice becoming more relaxed.
"Then what happened?" Jeremy sounded oddly gentle.
"I fell in love, Father." Christian replied easily.
"Would you have returned if she had not been ill?"
Christian shook his head. "No, Father."
"And why not?"
Christian held his head high. "Julia knew what I wanted to do with my life, and she approved."
"So you would allow a lady of her culture to destroy her place in society to marry you? Has your mother and I taught you nothing, Christian?"
"We love one another, Father."
"I understand that, Christian."
"Father, I am aware that you do not approve of me. Believe me, had it been my choice, I would have never come here. But Julia was sick, and I had no where else to go. I will leave if you want me."
Jeremy was silent for a moment, before chuckling. "You are just like me, Christian."
Christian looked at him, surprised.
"Determined. Won't take nonsense from anyone. Even," he looked hard at his son. "Your venerable father." he waved a hand. "I have returned you to my will, Christian. You will receive your fortune, under the stipulation that you watch after your sister, as previously stated. Go ahead. Marry the girl. Go abroad for your honeymoon. But when you return-" he watched his son with eyes as cold and as hard as steel. "You will help me run the family business."
Christian took his time thinking. "I need to think this over." he said carefully.
"What is there to think over?" thundered Jeremy.
Christian raised his chin. "I will discuss this with my wife. Excuse me."
With that, he left his father's office. He would have felt completely discouraged, had it not been for the small detail that elated him.
His father liked Satine.