Disclaimer: *yawn* I know they don't belong to me.... you know they don't belong to me... let's move on.
This chapter is dedicated to the lovely people who are still reading and reviewing... I love you all... and too my Moulin Rouge Molls, Karita and Hannah. I have also heard that we have a new Rougette, which I will not disclose 'til later. Yeah. Suffer.
Satine sat at the vanity, brushing her hair slowly. Her hair flowed down her back in auburn ripples as she gently ran the brush down the length of her hair.
The door opened, and Satine looked in the mirror to see the door. It was Christian.
"Thank God," she murmured under her breath, flying across the room and into his arms.
"I was so worried- what did your father say?" she asked him, her head lying on his shoulder.
Christian chuckled, smoothing his hand over her silky hair.
"He likes you." he said right off.
Satine pulled away from him, smiling radiantly. "Does he really? Oh, I'm so glad. By the way you and Annette spoke of him I expected an ogre, but he isn't all that bad. What else did he say?"
Christian smiled. Satine still wasn't over her silent few weeks and was prone to chatter away.
"He asked me why I gave up being a writer."
Satine sat back down at the vanity, brush in hand. She looked at him, startled. "But you didn't." She said doubtfully.
"I know I didn't. He thought I had, because I came back here. I explained it was because of you."
Satine looked down. "I'm sorry about that."
Christian crossed over the vanity and stood behind her, taking the brush from her and starting to run it through her hair.
"It wasn't you fault, darling."
Satine gave a little half-smile.
"I'm glad we're here," continued Christian. "If not, Mamma and Annette would've never met you."
Satine sighed. "I suppose." she flashed a smile. "What else did he say?"
A dark look flashed over Christian's face, and Satine turned, concerned. Christian put down the brush and took Satine's hand. He led her over to the bed, where they both sat down.
"Darling, there's something we need to discuss."
Satine swallowed hard and looked at Christian with eyes filled with thinly-veiled fear. "Yes?" she said, slightly shakily.
"My father agrees to have us remarried.. He wants us to go on the Grand Tour for our honeymoon-" Satine's face brightened. "But," Satine's face fell. "When we returned, I would have to work for my father."
Satine looked down at their hands on her lap, and twisted the ring they were using as her 'wedding' ring.
"And you would hate that." she said quietly.
Christian lifted her chin. 'Satine, staying here wouldn't be all that bad. You would have loads of friends, and Mamma would always have you going to parties and teas, and we could go on vacations whenever we wished..."
"And if I got sick again there would be no problems." she finished.
"You won't get sick again." Christian promised fervently.
"But if I did," she continued, "We'd be here." she looked around the cozy room. "in this house." she shivered. "Nothing can go wrong in this house, can it, Christian?"
The question asked with such child-like simplicity Christian couldn't help squeezing her hand. "No, my love. Nothing can go wrong here."
Satine moved closer and lay her head on Christian's shoulder. "But you'd be unhappy. I don't want that."
"But if we left, then we'd have nothing. And then you'd be unhappy."
Satine pulled away and looked at him. "I couldn't be unhappy. Not if I was with you."
Christian watched her carefully. "Darling, it wouldn't be like it was before when you came to visit. There would be no where else to go."
Satine stuck her chin out obstinately. "I wouldn't want to."
Christian laughed. "You say that now, my darling. You think this all one big adventure. But it's not all fun and games. Sometimes you have to choose between being full or being warm. You're not used to that, dearest."
Satine snorted. "And you are?" she said, pointedly glancing around the room.
"This is not a game, Satine." he said quietly.
Satine drew herself up to sit up as straight as possible. "In case you forgot, darling, I lived in poverty for most of my childhood. So, yes, I have some comprehension of what I'm getting myself into."
"But you're not used to it anymore." he countered.
"I get used to it." Satine said in a controlled fury.
"No you won't." he replied.
"Why not?" she said coldly. "You did."
At that moment, and invisible bell was rung, and the round was over. Satine moved closer to Christian.
"Oh, darling, let's not fight."
Christian shook his head in agreement. Satine snuggled up against him. "Too bad there isn't some compromise we can come to."
"There isn't, love."
"I know."
This time Christian moved away to face Satine. "Darling, living here would be grand. You'd love it here."
"But you'd hate it."
"I would not." he said forcefully.
"Would too."
"Would not." he whined.
"You sound like Annette." Satine said pointed out.
"I didn't take you from Montmartre to compromise what you're accustomed to." he said, running his hand through his hair.
"And I didn't come with you to have you be unhappy for my sake." she countered.
"And I won't have you suffer for me."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, on opposite ends of the bed, backs to one another. Satine laughed suddenly.
Christian turned to face her. What could she possibly find amusing in this horrible dilemma?
"This," she said between her laughs "This is out problem, Christian."
Christian moved towards where she was, and she flung herself at him, resting her head on his leg and wrapping her arms around his waist.
"What is, darling?"
"We love each other too much." she said with absolute sincerity.
"What?" burst out Christian in surprise.
Satine nodded. "Uh huh." she sat up. "That's right. You want me to be happy, and I want you to be happy, and neither things coincide."
"So we're at a stalemate." Christian said.
She nodded again. "I won't sacrifice your happiness."
"And I won't sacrifice yours." he said definitely.
They looked at one another, identical grins playing on their lips. "This is pathetic." Satine said.
"Agreed."
Satine reached out and stroked his cheek. "I love you."
Christian nodded. "I know."
Satine laughed. "Conceited."
"I love you too."
"That's better."
The kiss was sweet. Things would have gone further had there not been a knock on the door.
"Dammit!" cursed Christian.
"Shh!" hissed Satine, buttoning her dress back up. "Who is it?"
"Annette." said Annette.
"Go away!" bellowed Christian.
"What is it, Annette?" asked Satine a bit breathlessly.
"Papa wants to see you."
"Who?" came Christian's angered voice.
"Julia."
Christian's eyes sought Satine's eyes in the darkness. Her eyes refused to meet his as she looked straight ahead into the darkness that surrounded them.
"Tell him I'm on my way, Annette." Satine said carefully, speaking very clearly.
"Alright!" she called, walking away. Satine and Christian both listened as her footsteps died away.
"I bet I know what he wants to talk about." Satine said between gritted teeth.
"You don't have to go." Christian said quietly.
Satine looked at him carefully before raising her chin. "Yes, I do." She turned on the oil lamp next to the bed and climbed off, moving to the mirror to smooth her hair back and button her dress up properly. Without looking at him for fear of crumbling, Satine walked out.
The wood banister was smooth and cool underneath her hand. Satine gripped it like a lifeline. She gripped the skirt of her dress to keep her hand from trembling. She was more scared than she cared to admit, but unless you knew her very well, you would not have been able to tell. She walked down the stairs with the grace worthy of a princess. Her face was perfectly composed, without a trace of emotion. And it would have stayed that way if it had not been for Gregory, who came galloping up the stairs at that minute.
Satine felt her confidence waver at his foolish grin.
"Well, hello, Julia. Where might you be off to?"
"To speak to your father." She started to move down the stairs. He jumped in front of her. "Please let me pass."
"Tsk tsk, Julia. Are we trying to leave a conversation without excusing ourselves? For shame."
Satine's temper flared. "I wasn't having a conversation with you. Now move aside, you foolish boy, and let me pass."
Gregory shook his head. "Don't think I will. You know, Julia, you have terrible manners."
"And what do you call this?" Satine asked pointedly. "Proper etiquette?" She tried to side step him, he moved in her way again. Frustrated, Satine grabbed his wrist and moved his arm.
Within an instant, he had grabbed her wrist and twisted it. Satine gasped in pain. "Don't get fresh now, Miss Julia. We don't allow that here."
"Who do you think you are?" Satine spat viciously, ignoring the pain that was shooting up her arm.
Gregory let her go as quickly as he had grabbed her. He shrugged, and smiled pleasantly. "Just a guy trying to protect his family." he attempted to pinch her cheek. Satine slapped his hand away, glaring. "Enjoy yourself, Julia." whistling a merry little tune, Gregory continued up the stairs.
Satine leaned against the rail for a moment, catching her breath. Gregory had scared her. There was something off about that boy, something that didn't fit. It was something that would bear more thought when Jeremy Deveraux wasn't awaiting her arrival.
Re-affixing her smile, Satine held her head up high and walked to the door of Jeremy's office. She knocked softly.
"Come in." said the old man's gruff voice.
Satine opened the door and slid in, as if opening the door more would disturb the eerie silence that shrouded the office. Jeremy had his back to her, and was thumbing through a book. He turned when he heard her footsteps.
Satine stood in the doorway, uncertain as of what to do.
"Ah. Julia. Sit down, my dear. I don't bite."
Satine took a shuddery breath and smiled gracefully, lowering herself into a hard wood-and-leather chair.
"I trust dinner was to your satisfaction." Jeremy said. Satine nodded, smiling.
"Yes, Mr. Dev- Father." He nodded.
"And I am assured that Christian has reported to you my proposition."
Satine nodded again. "Yes, sir."
"And?"
Satine looked at the old man carefully. "We have been debating it ever since."
"Pray, be frank, Julia. Tell me what you think."
Satine bit her lip. She wasn't at all sure of what to do.
"I think," she began. "I think that you are wrong to even consider it."
Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "Do you? Continue."
"Well," started Satine. "Christian left to pursue his own happiness as a writer, a happiness you would not allow him. Now we come back- and I assure you, it was not of Christian's own will, but because of my illness- and you want to hound him into taking up the business again. Have you no shame, Mr. Deveraux?"
"What do you want to do, Julia?" Satine stood up to be at eye level with him.
"I want to leave. I don't need a big wedding, I don't need a honeymoon. I don't care about any of that. I'd be perfectly happy living in a garret somewhere."
Jeremy chortled with delight. "Would you, Julia? A lady such as yourself could never be comfortable in such squalid conditions."
"I'd survive." she said through gritted teeth.
"And what does Christian say about all this?" Jeremy asked.
"He wants to sacrifice his happiness for my own."
"Pause for a moment, Julia, and let an old man gather his thoughts. You want to live in poverty to ensure Christian's happiness, and he wants to live the life he left in order to preserve your way of life."
"That is correct."
"Seems as though you have a bit of a problem then, don't you?" He said simply.
Satine sat back down. Her outburst had left her a bit dizzy. She hated this weakness. The doctor had warned her of this, and that she would be this way for quite a while. Thinking of that, whatever had become of Clara?
"Permit me to think aloud, Julia," Jeremy said. "Christian is willing to give up his happiness for your comfort. You are willing to give up your comfort for his happiness."
"I know this already," Satine snapped irritably. She was suddenly tired of the whole idea, her head ached, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, and forget about everything.
"Yet I need someone to work for me, preferably one of my sons." Jeremy continued smoothly, ignoring Satine.
"Take Gregory. He seems pretty keen to join your staff. Smart too, from what I've heard. Christian isn't good with figures." Satine said wearily, massaging her temples with her fingers.
"That's what you have bankers for, dear." Jeremy chuckled. "Gregory is quite a smart boy, I agree with you completely. But I regret to admit that my younger son is not very ethical."
"But he wants to work for you. That should be enough." Satine said. She wanted nothing more than to go to her room and be with Christian.
Jeremy drew himself to his full height in indignation. "My company, Miss Julia, is known for it's fairness and probity. Gregory is not the man for the job."
"And neither is Christian. He hates it." stated Satine hotly. They were both fighting a losing battle.
There was a long pause in the dialogue. It was enough to restore Satine's thinking to clarity.
"Julia, I have a proposition for you." said Jeremy, almost lyrically.
"Yes?" asked Satine warily.
"What if, after the wedding, and the honeymoon, and all that other nonsense young people go through after weddings, Christian comes and works for me as a trial period. After a time- say, six months- Christian can come to me. If he wants to stay on, good. If he doesn't, he is free to go."
Satine was watching him with a cautious eye as he walked around the room.
"And of his inheritance?" Satine said.
Jeremy waved a hand. "If his work is satisfactory, he may keep it. Consider it a wedding present."
Satine was still careful. "And I have your word on this?"
Jeremy held his right hand up. "On my honor."
Satine shook her head. "Not good enough. I require two forms of conviction on my part." She stood up and searched his shelves of books. Finally she found it- a gleaming copy of the Bible. It was obvious the good book had hardly been touched. She held it out to him. "Swear it."
Jeremy seemed to find it amusing, yet he indulged her and put his left hand on the Bible and held his right hand up. "I, Jeremy Deveraux, swear that Christian may work for me for six months after his honeymoon, may leave if not content, and will still receive his inheritance."
Satine nodded. "And here..." she motioned to his desk. "I want it in writing."
"You do not trust me?"
The question was balanced carefully, and for a moment, Satine was unsure of what to say. Then she held her head up high and shook her head. "Not when it comes to Christian. There, I trust no one but myself."
Jeremy watched this rather remarkable young lady with interest. He had never met anyone like her. She was quick, charming and intelligent. She was the first woman Jeremy had actually considered worthy of his time, besides his darling Evelyn. He smiled slowly and moved behind his desk.
He took his time, and when he handed it to Satine, she noticed it was in both French and English. Satine looked up at him with fear in her eyes. What did he know?
"You are French, are you not?" Jeremy asked. Had he been anyone but Jeremy, his voice would have had a trace of uncertainty.
Satine nodded absent-mindedly as she skimmed it. She looked back up at Jeremy. "This seems satisfactory."
He held the pen out to her. "Then you must sign as well."
Satine glanced at him, startled. "Me?"
"As for Christian, of course."
Satine shook her head. "I am sorry, Mr. Dev- Father. I must discuss this with him first."
"Always this ridiculous consultation! You know him as well as you know yourself, you know he will be satisfied, why don't you just sign it?!" said Jeremy in utter frustration.
As quickly as Satine had begun to warm up to him she turned frigid. "It's called respect, Mr. Deveraux. I will discuss this matter with my husband and that is all there is to it." She held the paper tightly in her hand as she moved to the door. "Please excuse me."
She walked up the stairs, gripping the banister as she had before. Christian's father and brother both seemed a little odd. There was something not right with this family, she thought. Something was off. Something sinister.
Oh, you silly girl! Came Satine's conscious in reply. You're making something out of nothing. You're just anxious.
Besides, what could a few men do to her? She was Satine, the Sparkling Diamond- and now she was Julia Deveraux, wife of Christian Deveraux. Or, at least, she would be, soon. She decided right then and there that Satine and Julia were not two different people. Satine didn't take nonsense from anybody, and neither would Julia. Julia would not be a meek and mild society lady. She had her reputation as a wildcat to protect, even if no one knew it. Satine was a bit confused now. Who had her reputation to protect? Satine was the wildcat, but if Julia and Satine were the same person, did Julia have the same connotation? And if she did, who could have given it to her, seeing as Julia had surfaced for the first time this afternoon after a little less than a decade of hibernation? And how could Satine ever expect herself to answer to herself if she even called herself Satine in her own thoughts?
How long had it taken Satine to become Satine and leave Julia behind?
Whatever or whoever she was, it mattered not. Under the whole name thing, she was just herself. End of story.
Yes, she would remain her spit-fire self. They could change her name, confuse her, and maybe even scare her out of her mind, but they could not take her identity.
With that thought, she continued up the stairs.
~*~
Christian was lying on the bed, reading a book. He looked up when she entered.
"What happened?" he said immediately, rising off the bed.
Satine wordlessly handed him the paper. Out of habit, Christian's eyes instantly moved to the French part, which he skimmed. It then occurred to him to read the English version, which he did.
A few minutes, after rereading it numerous times, he looked up at Satine.
"What does this mean?"
"Exactly what it says, my love."
He re-read it again. "No. This is too good to be true."
Satine smiled and nodded. "It's true, darling. Cross my heart."
"So, it's like a trial period."
Satine nodded again. "In a way, yes. And we get it all, dearest." She put a hand on his arm. "But only if it pleases you. If you don't like it, forget it."
"This is- wonderful, Satine!" He exclaimed, picking her up and twirling her around. She giggled madly.
"You like it?"
"Like it? This is better than anything I could have hoped for!"
For a moment they stared at one another with fanatic intensity.
"You blinked." Christian said.
"Did not."
"Did too."
"So did you." Satine returned.
"Did not." Christian retorted.
Satine traced a finger up his chest. "You know... I think some poetry might be appropriate. You know, for a celebration."
"Do you?" Christian said, sounding quite amused.
"Oh, yes." Satine said seriously, nodding. She straightened his collar. "Talent is so hard to find these days, but poetry is so lovely..."
"I think I could arrange for a poetry reading." Christian said modestly.
"Do you?" she said with a playful tone.
"I think I could manage it."
"I'd be much obliged, sir."
They kissed between giggles, for they were both laughing hysterically.
"Come, feel the poetry, Satine." Christian taunted.
"Ooh, how I love talent, darling."
They looked at one another again and cracked up.
~*~
The next morning at breakfast everyone was very quiet, with the exception of Christian and Satine, to whom everything seemed hilarious. They laughed at everything. Whereas Evelyn and Annette found it delightful, Gregory found it irritating.
"Would you please explain what is so amusing so we can have as much humor in our breakfast as you have in yours?"
Satine and Christian looked at one another and bit their lips to contain their shared glee.
"Oh, leave them alone, you jealous tatterdemalion." Annette retorted.
"Know how to spell that, Annie?" taunted Greg.
Christian and Satine fell to pieces.
"T-A-T-T-E-R-D-"
Evelyn kept her smile in check. "Children! Behave!"
"E-M-A-L-I-O-N."
"Dunce!" said Gregory.
"I spelled it right!"
"It's like some mad show!" cried Satine. Both she and Christian dissolved into laughter.
"Mamma, may I have the cream?" asked Thomas, the only one of the 'children' behaving.
"Children, please!" Evelyn cried.
"Mamma?"
"Ignoramus!"
"Gregory!"
"This is hilarious!"
"Children-"
"Half-wit!"
"Vexatious!"
"Spell it!"
"V-E-X-"
"Never had so much fun at home-"
"A-T-I-"
"MAMMA?"
"Children!"
"O-U-"
"WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET?" roared Jeremy.
Instantly, the pleas, spelling, taunting, and giggles abated.
"I do not intend to eat my breakfast with such cacophony. You will all cease this nonsense at ONCE." Jeremy, without waiting for a response, dug into his sausage savagely.
Satine and Christian looked at one another. They both hid their faces in their napkins.
Jeremy looked at them coldly. "And to what do you attribute this sudden absurdity?"
"Dinner mints." announced Christian promptly. It was too much for Satine, who once again burst into hysterics.
Annette watched Satine as she turned red, and felt a giggle bubble up within herself. She too started to snicker.
Evelyn sighed wearily. "Annette... Julia... please, dears, do control yourselves."
"Yes. Behave like CIVILIZED people, girls." chided Gregory.
"Spell it." Annette threw back.
Jeremy stood up. The austere gentleman looked pointedly at Christian and Satine, who was slowly but surely gaining control over herself.
"I'd like to talk to you both after breakfast. Excuse me."
And Jeremy was gone.
Satine and Christian exchanged glances, all traces of laughter gone. Was Jeremy going to retract his offer?
They wordlessly stood up, with a murmured 'Excuse us', and disappeared.
~*~
Christian opened the door, and pushed Satine in. Jeremy sat at his desk going over some papers. He looked up.
"Ah. Miss Julia and my wayward son. Have you any excuse for your appalling behavior this morning?"
Christian looked at his father seriously. "I'm afraid, sir, that we both have been reading too much poetry lately. It's effected our brains."
Satine nodded sedately in agreement. "Oh, yes, Father. Too much poetry causes lapses of the senses. Last night we read a particularly lovely verses and had to study it for quite some time."
"Oh yes." Christian added. "Quite a shame."
Neither looked at the other for fear of hysteria.
Jeremy nodded. "Have you considered my proposal?"
Christian looked at Satine then. She quirked her head in a motion that said, whatever you want to do, I'll do it.
Christian nodded. "Yes, Father."
Jeremy looked at Satine. "Julia, be a dear and fetch the paper for us to sign."
Satine agreed, excused herself, and hurried up to her room.
She found it, and was going back down the stairs when she heard the door open and was in the hall to go to the study.
"Yes, this is the Deveraux home." She heard the butler Chauncy say.
She paused in the shadows.
"A telegram." came a strange voice.
"Oh, yes." Chauncy must have taken it, for the door closed.
"Chauncy?" came Annette's voice, her light footsteps echoing across the wooden expanse of the front hall.
"Yes, Miss Annette?"
"What is that?"
"A telegram, Miss."
"For who?"
"It doesn't say, Miss."
"May I take it, then?"
"I was going to take it to Mrs. Deveraux, Miss."
"Please?" wheedled Annette. Satine smiled. Christian had already told her that Annette could get whatever she wanted out of old Chauncy, who favored Annette.
With a sigh, Chauncy must have handed it over, for Annette gave a squeal of joy.
"Oh, thank you, Chauncy!"
Because Satine entered the study then, she didn't hear Annette anxiously tear open the envelop that held the telegram.
Nor did she hear the gasp that followed it.
Instead, she scratched her name (Julia Deveraux) alongside Christian's and Jeremy's.
Satine studied it for a long time. She was a Deveraux. Supposedly. She belonged.
Grinning, Jeremy dismissed them.
Christian and Satine left the study and were both in rather high spirits when Annette, white-faced, grabbed Christian's arm.
"Good heavens, Annette, you look like you've seen a ghost. What happened, old girl?" Christian asked good-naturedly, prying Annette's hand off his arm.
"I might as well have."
"What is that?" Christian asked, grabbing for the telegram. "Well?"
"It's from... it's from..." Annette stuttered.
"Who?" asked Christian.
Annette gulped. "It- it's from Violet, Christie."
This chapter is dedicated to the lovely people who are still reading and reviewing... I love you all... and too my Moulin Rouge Molls, Karita and Hannah. I have also heard that we have a new Rougette, which I will not disclose 'til later. Yeah. Suffer.
Satine sat at the vanity, brushing her hair slowly. Her hair flowed down her back in auburn ripples as she gently ran the brush down the length of her hair.
The door opened, and Satine looked in the mirror to see the door. It was Christian.
"Thank God," she murmured under her breath, flying across the room and into his arms.
"I was so worried- what did your father say?" she asked him, her head lying on his shoulder.
Christian chuckled, smoothing his hand over her silky hair.
"He likes you." he said right off.
Satine pulled away from him, smiling radiantly. "Does he really? Oh, I'm so glad. By the way you and Annette spoke of him I expected an ogre, but he isn't all that bad. What else did he say?"
Christian smiled. Satine still wasn't over her silent few weeks and was prone to chatter away.
"He asked me why I gave up being a writer."
Satine sat back down at the vanity, brush in hand. She looked at him, startled. "But you didn't." She said doubtfully.
"I know I didn't. He thought I had, because I came back here. I explained it was because of you."
Satine looked down. "I'm sorry about that."
Christian crossed over the vanity and stood behind her, taking the brush from her and starting to run it through her hair.
"It wasn't you fault, darling."
Satine gave a little half-smile.
"I'm glad we're here," continued Christian. "If not, Mamma and Annette would've never met you."
Satine sighed. "I suppose." she flashed a smile. "What else did he say?"
A dark look flashed over Christian's face, and Satine turned, concerned. Christian put down the brush and took Satine's hand. He led her over to the bed, where they both sat down.
"Darling, there's something we need to discuss."
Satine swallowed hard and looked at Christian with eyes filled with thinly-veiled fear. "Yes?" she said, slightly shakily.
"My father agrees to have us remarried.. He wants us to go on the Grand Tour for our honeymoon-" Satine's face brightened. "But," Satine's face fell. "When we returned, I would have to work for my father."
Satine looked down at their hands on her lap, and twisted the ring they were using as her 'wedding' ring.
"And you would hate that." she said quietly.
Christian lifted her chin. 'Satine, staying here wouldn't be all that bad. You would have loads of friends, and Mamma would always have you going to parties and teas, and we could go on vacations whenever we wished..."
"And if I got sick again there would be no problems." she finished.
"You won't get sick again." Christian promised fervently.
"But if I did," she continued, "We'd be here." she looked around the cozy room. "in this house." she shivered. "Nothing can go wrong in this house, can it, Christian?"
The question asked with such child-like simplicity Christian couldn't help squeezing her hand. "No, my love. Nothing can go wrong here."
Satine moved closer and lay her head on Christian's shoulder. "But you'd be unhappy. I don't want that."
"But if we left, then we'd have nothing. And then you'd be unhappy."
Satine pulled away and looked at him. "I couldn't be unhappy. Not if I was with you."
Christian watched her carefully. "Darling, it wouldn't be like it was before when you came to visit. There would be no where else to go."
Satine stuck her chin out obstinately. "I wouldn't want to."
Christian laughed. "You say that now, my darling. You think this all one big adventure. But it's not all fun and games. Sometimes you have to choose between being full or being warm. You're not used to that, dearest."
Satine snorted. "And you are?" she said, pointedly glancing around the room.
"This is not a game, Satine." he said quietly.
Satine drew herself up to sit up as straight as possible. "In case you forgot, darling, I lived in poverty for most of my childhood. So, yes, I have some comprehension of what I'm getting myself into."
"But you're not used to it anymore." he countered.
"I get used to it." Satine said in a controlled fury.
"No you won't." he replied.
"Why not?" she said coldly. "You did."
At that moment, and invisible bell was rung, and the round was over. Satine moved closer to Christian.
"Oh, darling, let's not fight."
Christian shook his head in agreement. Satine snuggled up against him. "Too bad there isn't some compromise we can come to."
"There isn't, love."
"I know."
This time Christian moved away to face Satine. "Darling, living here would be grand. You'd love it here."
"But you'd hate it."
"I would not." he said forcefully.
"Would too."
"Would not." he whined.
"You sound like Annette." Satine said pointed out.
"I didn't take you from Montmartre to compromise what you're accustomed to." he said, running his hand through his hair.
"And I didn't come with you to have you be unhappy for my sake." she countered.
"And I won't have you suffer for me."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, on opposite ends of the bed, backs to one another. Satine laughed suddenly.
Christian turned to face her. What could she possibly find amusing in this horrible dilemma?
"This," she said between her laughs "This is out problem, Christian."
Christian moved towards where she was, and she flung herself at him, resting her head on his leg and wrapping her arms around his waist.
"What is, darling?"
"We love each other too much." she said with absolute sincerity.
"What?" burst out Christian in surprise.
Satine nodded. "Uh huh." she sat up. "That's right. You want me to be happy, and I want you to be happy, and neither things coincide."
"So we're at a stalemate." Christian said.
She nodded again. "I won't sacrifice your happiness."
"And I won't sacrifice yours." he said definitely.
They looked at one another, identical grins playing on their lips. "This is pathetic." Satine said.
"Agreed."
Satine reached out and stroked his cheek. "I love you."
Christian nodded. "I know."
Satine laughed. "Conceited."
"I love you too."
"That's better."
The kiss was sweet. Things would have gone further had there not been a knock on the door.
"Dammit!" cursed Christian.
"Shh!" hissed Satine, buttoning her dress back up. "Who is it?"
"Annette." said Annette.
"Go away!" bellowed Christian.
"What is it, Annette?" asked Satine a bit breathlessly.
"Papa wants to see you."
"Who?" came Christian's angered voice.
"Julia."
Christian's eyes sought Satine's eyes in the darkness. Her eyes refused to meet his as she looked straight ahead into the darkness that surrounded them.
"Tell him I'm on my way, Annette." Satine said carefully, speaking very clearly.
"Alright!" she called, walking away. Satine and Christian both listened as her footsteps died away.
"I bet I know what he wants to talk about." Satine said between gritted teeth.
"You don't have to go." Christian said quietly.
Satine looked at him carefully before raising her chin. "Yes, I do." She turned on the oil lamp next to the bed and climbed off, moving to the mirror to smooth her hair back and button her dress up properly. Without looking at him for fear of crumbling, Satine walked out.
The wood banister was smooth and cool underneath her hand. Satine gripped it like a lifeline. She gripped the skirt of her dress to keep her hand from trembling. She was more scared than she cared to admit, but unless you knew her very well, you would not have been able to tell. She walked down the stairs with the grace worthy of a princess. Her face was perfectly composed, without a trace of emotion. And it would have stayed that way if it had not been for Gregory, who came galloping up the stairs at that minute.
Satine felt her confidence waver at his foolish grin.
"Well, hello, Julia. Where might you be off to?"
"To speak to your father." She started to move down the stairs. He jumped in front of her. "Please let me pass."
"Tsk tsk, Julia. Are we trying to leave a conversation without excusing ourselves? For shame."
Satine's temper flared. "I wasn't having a conversation with you. Now move aside, you foolish boy, and let me pass."
Gregory shook his head. "Don't think I will. You know, Julia, you have terrible manners."
"And what do you call this?" Satine asked pointedly. "Proper etiquette?" She tried to side step him, he moved in her way again. Frustrated, Satine grabbed his wrist and moved his arm.
Within an instant, he had grabbed her wrist and twisted it. Satine gasped in pain. "Don't get fresh now, Miss Julia. We don't allow that here."
"Who do you think you are?" Satine spat viciously, ignoring the pain that was shooting up her arm.
Gregory let her go as quickly as he had grabbed her. He shrugged, and smiled pleasantly. "Just a guy trying to protect his family." he attempted to pinch her cheek. Satine slapped his hand away, glaring. "Enjoy yourself, Julia." whistling a merry little tune, Gregory continued up the stairs.
Satine leaned against the rail for a moment, catching her breath. Gregory had scared her. There was something off about that boy, something that didn't fit. It was something that would bear more thought when Jeremy Deveraux wasn't awaiting her arrival.
Re-affixing her smile, Satine held her head up high and walked to the door of Jeremy's office. She knocked softly.
"Come in." said the old man's gruff voice.
Satine opened the door and slid in, as if opening the door more would disturb the eerie silence that shrouded the office. Jeremy had his back to her, and was thumbing through a book. He turned when he heard her footsteps.
Satine stood in the doorway, uncertain as of what to do.
"Ah. Julia. Sit down, my dear. I don't bite."
Satine took a shuddery breath and smiled gracefully, lowering herself into a hard wood-and-leather chair.
"I trust dinner was to your satisfaction." Jeremy said. Satine nodded, smiling.
"Yes, Mr. Dev- Father." He nodded.
"And I am assured that Christian has reported to you my proposition."
Satine nodded again. "Yes, sir."
"And?"
Satine looked at the old man carefully. "We have been debating it ever since."
"Pray, be frank, Julia. Tell me what you think."
Satine bit her lip. She wasn't at all sure of what to do.
"I think," she began. "I think that you are wrong to even consider it."
Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "Do you? Continue."
"Well," started Satine. "Christian left to pursue his own happiness as a writer, a happiness you would not allow him. Now we come back- and I assure you, it was not of Christian's own will, but because of my illness- and you want to hound him into taking up the business again. Have you no shame, Mr. Deveraux?"
"What do you want to do, Julia?" Satine stood up to be at eye level with him.
"I want to leave. I don't need a big wedding, I don't need a honeymoon. I don't care about any of that. I'd be perfectly happy living in a garret somewhere."
Jeremy chortled with delight. "Would you, Julia? A lady such as yourself could never be comfortable in such squalid conditions."
"I'd survive." she said through gritted teeth.
"And what does Christian say about all this?" Jeremy asked.
"He wants to sacrifice his happiness for my own."
"Pause for a moment, Julia, and let an old man gather his thoughts. You want to live in poverty to ensure Christian's happiness, and he wants to live the life he left in order to preserve your way of life."
"That is correct."
"Seems as though you have a bit of a problem then, don't you?" He said simply.
Satine sat back down. Her outburst had left her a bit dizzy. She hated this weakness. The doctor had warned her of this, and that she would be this way for quite a while. Thinking of that, whatever had become of Clara?
"Permit me to think aloud, Julia," Jeremy said. "Christian is willing to give up his happiness for your comfort. You are willing to give up your comfort for his happiness."
"I know this already," Satine snapped irritably. She was suddenly tired of the whole idea, her head ached, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, and forget about everything.
"Yet I need someone to work for me, preferably one of my sons." Jeremy continued smoothly, ignoring Satine.
"Take Gregory. He seems pretty keen to join your staff. Smart too, from what I've heard. Christian isn't good with figures." Satine said wearily, massaging her temples with her fingers.
"That's what you have bankers for, dear." Jeremy chuckled. "Gregory is quite a smart boy, I agree with you completely. But I regret to admit that my younger son is not very ethical."
"But he wants to work for you. That should be enough." Satine said. She wanted nothing more than to go to her room and be with Christian.
Jeremy drew himself to his full height in indignation. "My company, Miss Julia, is known for it's fairness and probity. Gregory is not the man for the job."
"And neither is Christian. He hates it." stated Satine hotly. They were both fighting a losing battle.
There was a long pause in the dialogue. It was enough to restore Satine's thinking to clarity.
"Julia, I have a proposition for you." said Jeremy, almost lyrically.
"Yes?" asked Satine warily.
"What if, after the wedding, and the honeymoon, and all that other nonsense young people go through after weddings, Christian comes and works for me as a trial period. After a time- say, six months- Christian can come to me. If he wants to stay on, good. If he doesn't, he is free to go."
Satine was watching him with a cautious eye as he walked around the room.
"And of his inheritance?" Satine said.
Jeremy waved a hand. "If his work is satisfactory, he may keep it. Consider it a wedding present."
Satine was still careful. "And I have your word on this?"
Jeremy held his right hand up. "On my honor."
Satine shook her head. "Not good enough. I require two forms of conviction on my part." She stood up and searched his shelves of books. Finally she found it- a gleaming copy of the Bible. It was obvious the good book had hardly been touched. She held it out to him. "Swear it."
Jeremy seemed to find it amusing, yet he indulged her and put his left hand on the Bible and held his right hand up. "I, Jeremy Deveraux, swear that Christian may work for me for six months after his honeymoon, may leave if not content, and will still receive his inheritance."
Satine nodded. "And here..." she motioned to his desk. "I want it in writing."
"You do not trust me?"
The question was balanced carefully, and for a moment, Satine was unsure of what to say. Then she held her head up high and shook her head. "Not when it comes to Christian. There, I trust no one but myself."
Jeremy watched this rather remarkable young lady with interest. He had never met anyone like her. She was quick, charming and intelligent. She was the first woman Jeremy had actually considered worthy of his time, besides his darling Evelyn. He smiled slowly and moved behind his desk.
He took his time, and when he handed it to Satine, she noticed it was in both French and English. Satine looked up at him with fear in her eyes. What did he know?
"You are French, are you not?" Jeremy asked. Had he been anyone but Jeremy, his voice would have had a trace of uncertainty.
Satine nodded absent-mindedly as she skimmed it. She looked back up at Jeremy. "This seems satisfactory."
He held the pen out to her. "Then you must sign as well."
Satine glanced at him, startled. "Me?"
"As for Christian, of course."
Satine shook her head. "I am sorry, Mr. Dev- Father. I must discuss this with him first."
"Always this ridiculous consultation! You know him as well as you know yourself, you know he will be satisfied, why don't you just sign it?!" said Jeremy in utter frustration.
As quickly as Satine had begun to warm up to him she turned frigid. "It's called respect, Mr. Deveraux. I will discuss this matter with my husband and that is all there is to it." She held the paper tightly in her hand as she moved to the door. "Please excuse me."
She walked up the stairs, gripping the banister as she had before. Christian's father and brother both seemed a little odd. There was something not right with this family, she thought. Something was off. Something sinister.
Oh, you silly girl! Came Satine's conscious in reply. You're making something out of nothing. You're just anxious.
Besides, what could a few men do to her? She was Satine, the Sparkling Diamond- and now she was Julia Deveraux, wife of Christian Deveraux. Or, at least, she would be, soon. She decided right then and there that Satine and Julia were not two different people. Satine didn't take nonsense from anybody, and neither would Julia. Julia would not be a meek and mild society lady. She had her reputation as a wildcat to protect, even if no one knew it. Satine was a bit confused now. Who had her reputation to protect? Satine was the wildcat, but if Julia and Satine were the same person, did Julia have the same connotation? And if she did, who could have given it to her, seeing as Julia had surfaced for the first time this afternoon after a little less than a decade of hibernation? And how could Satine ever expect herself to answer to herself if she even called herself Satine in her own thoughts?
How long had it taken Satine to become Satine and leave Julia behind?
Whatever or whoever she was, it mattered not. Under the whole name thing, she was just herself. End of story.
Yes, she would remain her spit-fire self. They could change her name, confuse her, and maybe even scare her out of her mind, but they could not take her identity.
With that thought, she continued up the stairs.
~*~
Christian was lying on the bed, reading a book. He looked up when she entered.
"What happened?" he said immediately, rising off the bed.
Satine wordlessly handed him the paper. Out of habit, Christian's eyes instantly moved to the French part, which he skimmed. It then occurred to him to read the English version, which he did.
A few minutes, after rereading it numerous times, he looked up at Satine.
"What does this mean?"
"Exactly what it says, my love."
He re-read it again. "No. This is too good to be true."
Satine smiled and nodded. "It's true, darling. Cross my heart."
"So, it's like a trial period."
Satine nodded again. "In a way, yes. And we get it all, dearest." She put a hand on his arm. "But only if it pleases you. If you don't like it, forget it."
"This is- wonderful, Satine!" He exclaimed, picking her up and twirling her around. She giggled madly.
"You like it?"
"Like it? This is better than anything I could have hoped for!"
For a moment they stared at one another with fanatic intensity.
"You blinked." Christian said.
"Did not."
"Did too."
"So did you." Satine returned.
"Did not." Christian retorted.
Satine traced a finger up his chest. "You know... I think some poetry might be appropriate. You know, for a celebration."
"Do you?" Christian said, sounding quite amused.
"Oh, yes." Satine said seriously, nodding. She straightened his collar. "Talent is so hard to find these days, but poetry is so lovely..."
"I think I could arrange for a poetry reading." Christian said modestly.
"Do you?" she said with a playful tone.
"I think I could manage it."
"I'd be much obliged, sir."
They kissed between giggles, for they were both laughing hysterically.
"Come, feel the poetry, Satine." Christian taunted.
"Ooh, how I love talent, darling."
They looked at one another again and cracked up.
~*~
The next morning at breakfast everyone was very quiet, with the exception of Christian and Satine, to whom everything seemed hilarious. They laughed at everything. Whereas Evelyn and Annette found it delightful, Gregory found it irritating.
"Would you please explain what is so amusing so we can have as much humor in our breakfast as you have in yours?"
Satine and Christian looked at one another and bit their lips to contain their shared glee.
"Oh, leave them alone, you jealous tatterdemalion." Annette retorted.
"Know how to spell that, Annie?" taunted Greg.
Christian and Satine fell to pieces.
"T-A-T-T-E-R-D-"
Evelyn kept her smile in check. "Children! Behave!"
"E-M-A-L-I-O-N."
"Dunce!" said Gregory.
"I spelled it right!"
"It's like some mad show!" cried Satine. Both she and Christian dissolved into laughter.
"Mamma, may I have the cream?" asked Thomas, the only one of the 'children' behaving.
"Children, please!" Evelyn cried.
"Mamma?"
"Ignoramus!"
"Gregory!"
"This is hilarious!"
"Children-"
"Half-wit!"
"Vexatious!"
"Spell it!"
"V-E-X-"
"Never had so much fun at home-"
"A-T-I-"
"MAMMA?"
"Children!"
"O-U-"
"WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET?" roared Jeremy.
Instantly, the pleas, spelling, taunting, and giggles abated.
"I do not intend to eat my breakfast with such cacophony. You will all cease this nonsense at ONCE." Jeremy, without waiting for a response, dug into his sausage savagely.
Satine and Christian looked at one another. They both hid their faces in their napkins.
Jeremy looked at them coldly. "And to what do you attribute this sudden absurdity?"
"Dinner mints." announced Christian promptly. It was too much for Satine, who once again burst into hysterics.
Annette watched Satine as she turned red, and felt a giggle bubble up within herself. She too started to snicker.
Evelyn sighed wearily. "Annette... Julia... please, dears, do control yourselves."
"Yes. Behave like CIVILIZED people, girls." chided Gregory.
"Spell it." Annette threw back.
Jeremy stood up. The austere gentleman looked pointedly at Christian and Satine, who was slowly but surely gaining control over herself.
"I'd like to talk to you both after breakfast. Excuse me."
And Jeremy was gone.
Satine and Christian exchanged glances, all traces of laughter gone. Was Jeremy going to retract his offer?
They wordlessly stood up, with a murmured 'Excuse us', and disappeared.
~*~
Christian opened the door, and pushed Satine in. Jeremy sat at his desk going over some papers. He looked up.
"Ah. Miss Julia and my wayward son. Have you any excuse for your appalling behavior this morning?"
Christian looked at his father seriously. "I'm afraid, sir, that we both have been reading too much poetry lately. It's effected our brains."
Satine nodded sedately in agreement. "Oh, yes, Father. Too much poetry causes lapses of the senses. Last night we read a particularly lovely verses and had to study it for quite some time."
"Oh yes." Christian added. "Quite a shame."
Neither looked at the other for fear of hysteria.
Jeremy nodded. "Have you considered my proposal?"
Christian looked at Satine then. She quirked her head in a motion that said, whatever you want to do, I'll do it.
Christian nodded. "Yes, Father."
Jeremy looked at Satine. "Julia, be a dear and fetch the paper for us to sign."
Satine agreed, excused herself, and hurried up to her room.
She found it, and was going back down the stairs when she heard the door open and was in the hall to go to the study.
"Yes, this is the Deveraux home." She heard the butler Chauncy say.
She paused in the shadows.
"A telegram." came a strange voice.
"Oh, yes." Chauncy must have taken it, for the door closed.
"Chauncy?" came Annette's voice, her light footsteps echoing across the wooden expanse of the front hall.
"Yes, Miss Annette?"
"What is that?"
"A telegram, Miss."
"For who?"
"It doesn't say, Miss."
"May I take it, then?"
"I was going to take it to Mrs. Deveraux, Miss."
"Please?" wheedled Annette. Satine smiled. Christian had already told her that Annette could get whatever she wanted out of old Chauncy, who favored Annette.
With a sigh, Chauncy must have handed it over, for Annette gave a squeal of joy.
"Oh, thank you, Chauncy!"
Because Satine entered the study then, she didn't hear Annette anxiously tear open the envelop that held the telegram.
Nor did she hear the gasp that followed it.
Instead, she scratched her name (Julia Deveraux) alongside Christian's and Jeremy's.
Satine studied it for a long time. She was a Deveraux. Supposedly. She belonged.
Grinning, Jeremy dismissed them.
Christian and Satine left the study and were both in rather high spirits when Annette, white-faced, grabbed Christian's arm.
"Good heavens, Annette, you look like you've seen a ghost. What happened, old girl?" Christian asked good-naturedly, prying Annette's hand off his arm.
"I might as well have."
"What is that?" Christian asked, grabbing for the telegram. "Well?"
"It's from... it's from..." Annette stuttered.
"Who?" asked Christian.
Annette gulped. "It- it's from Violet, Christie."