Chapter III: Let Tomorrow Come

Are you all right, darling? Christian looked over at Satine with concern. She had paused and pressed a hand to her head. Her face was white and her lips pale. Two bright spots burned on her cheeks and her breath fluttered unevenly.

Satine asked faintly. Christian came up behind her and drew her down onto the chaise.

Sit down for a minute, he said worriedly. Should I call the doctor? Satine shook her head and held his arm.

No. . no, she answered. Christian studied her, his blue eyes alight with anxiety.

You're not sick, are you? Satine shook her head quickly.

No. . . it doesn't feel like that, it almost feels like. . . she stopped abruptly, a realization creeping through her mind.



Satine closed her eyes briefly, as if anchoring herself to the world. She held Christian's hand tightly, breathing slowly and carefully.

I think I'm with child again. Christian's eyebrows rose and his expression hardened a little.

Are you certain?

No. But that's-- that's what it feels like. Christian did not speak for the next few moments. He loved Celeste with all his heart, and would love to have more children, but Satine had ventured dangerously near death during Celeste's birth. Satine looked at him, plainly puzzled by his silence.

Is something wrong, Christian? He hesitated before voicing his fear.

I almost lost you when you brought Celeste into the world, Satine. I don't know if that's a chance I want to take again.

If I am pregnant, we don't have much of a choice, Satine said sensibly. Besides, the first birth is always the hardest, Christian. I should be fine this time around.

And if you aren't pregnant-- maybe we should-- ensure you aren't for a while. he flushed. I don't mean to--

I know, Satine said, a lump suddenly appearing in her throat. Spending nights without him by her side. . . she didn't think she could learn to sleep in an empty bed, separated from him. I know you don't, but Christian, I'm not sure that I want to--

We may not have a choice, Satine, Christian said finally. I'm not going to risk losing you. I've come too close to it too many times. Satine's jaw tightened.

she stopped herself before starting an argument. Let's just wait and see, all right? Christian relaxed slightly and nodded.

All right. He caressed her shoulder lightly. Do you want something to drink? Satine sank back down into the armchair and smiled up at him.

If you really want to get me something--

And I do, he answered.

Then I would like some peppermint tea, please. Christian kissed her forehead and walked off in search of the tea. Satine smiled a little to herself. He would doubtlessly offend the cook by insisting on making it himself. Her smile faded as she looked down at her slim stomach and felt a strange chill, half hopeful, half afraid. As much as she loved Celeste, she had not enjoyed carrying and giving birth to her. Christian was right about that.

Margaret stood hesitantly outside the parlor. Celeste was whimpering, and I thought I'd better bring her to you. Satine held out her arms for her daughter, her worries dissolving as she looked down into her baby face. Celeste shifted impatiently and grabbed one of her mother's fingers. Gently, Satine shook it, cooing over the little girl. Margaret sat down opposite from them, leaning her head against her hand.

How are you, Margaret? Satine asked, glancing up from Celeste. The younger woman shrugged slightly.

I'm well, thank you, Margaret said primly. Satine had to bend over the baby again to hide her smile. She would never be able to get over how funny some English accents were. Christian's voice was beautiful, but even his words were softened by a trace of a French accent that had crept in there over the past few years. Satine's thoughts were interrupted by the next question. How are you, Satine?

I don't know, Satine said absently. Oh, sweetheart, don't do that, that was directed at Celeste, who had a fistful of Satine's dress and was tugging energetically.

You don't know? Satine looked up and laughed.

I'm going to the doctor soon. I think I'm with child again. Margaret smiled slowly, her entire face changing with the expression. Satine reflected that her sister-in-law really did have a beautiful smile. Her face and figure were both a little on the plain side, but her mysterious smile made you forget all of that.

Oh, that's wonderful, Satine.

Satine said, looking down into Celeste's eyes. It is. Whatever the pain and frustration that childbirth entailed, the baby was more than ample payment. Satine would not trade the wonder that Celeste was for anything. Seeing some of both herself and Christian in another human being that they had made together was . . . amazing. She touched Celeste's cheek tenderly. Her darling little daughter. . .

They sat together in silence until Margaret stirred.

I'm going to go back to my studies, she said. Do you want me to take Celeste back to bed?

No, I'll watch her for some time. Thank you for bringing her in, she added as Margaret left. Picking Celeste up, she touched noses with the baby.

What do you want to do, precious?

Ahh ahh ahh, Celeste said firmly. Satine giggled. Celeste was an ever-present source of joy.



Yes, really, Christian said, entering with a cup of tea. Hello, elfie. Satine lifted Celeste's hand and made her wave at her father as he set the tray down. Here, I'll take her, he murmured as he sat down across from her, Celeste settling down in his lap. Satine sniffed her tea appreciatively.

Did you make this, darling?

Yes. Much to the, er, disapproval of Madam Perret, he said, throwing her a mischievous glance.

Satine said reproachfully, Her look of disapproval melted as she saw his wide grin.

I rang the doctor up, Christian said after a moment. He said he'd stop by tomorrow afternoon. Satine nodded.

I've been thinking, Christian, she said quietly. It's worth it. Christian shifted uneasily in his seat.

I know, Satine. It's just that. . . it's hard for me to see you in pain. I just want to bring joy into your life. . . although God knows I've been a failure at that. Satine glanced up sharply at his tone of voice.

What do you mean by that, Christian?

he said quickly, taking Celeste's hand in his own. Do you know, it's amazing how fast she grows.

Satine said. You haven't been a failure. He refused to meet her eyes, instead focusing on Celeste.

I suppose.

Christian, please put her down for a moment. She rose and sat down next to him, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. And look at me, please, darling. Christian's eyes met hers for a brief moment, and he sighed deeply, leaning forward.

I had these beautiful hopes when we first married, Satine. I was going cure you and make you the perfect home. . . be the perfect husband.

Satine began, trying to reassure him.

And then reality happened, he said bitterly. Satine stroked his hair gently. If I knew what was going to happen in the beginning. . . I don't know.

I do, Satine said firmly. I'd be living with the Duke and you would still be in London, probably working for your father. Celeste would never have been born. She kissed his forehead. That in itself makes it worth it. Besides, she added, tracing the dimple in his chin as she spoke. The greatest thing you'll ever learn--

Is just to love, he finished, a smile touching his lips. And be loved in return.

Let it go, love, Satine said softly. Let it go and move on. They looked at each other for a long moment until their lips touched.

Let tomorrow come, Christian said, touching her hair. And until then. . . Satine gave him a meaningful look and inclined her head towards the bedroom.

We have plenty of things to do.

Abba ahh! Celeste was plainly tired of being ignored.

Christian said in reply as he picked her up and headed towards the nursery. Bed. Now.

How romantic, dear, Satine said, deliberately misinterpreting who his words were directed at.

She barely had time to duck the cushion he threw at her.

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Author's Note: All characters are property of their respective owners. Reviews will be welcomed with fanfare and much rejoicing. :)