Chapter VI: Will You Dance?

Satine ignored Warner as she walked up the stairs of the Day's huge home, her velvet skirt trailing behind her. Her stomach was continually tightening in her stomach as she tried not to think of the young writer. Certainly he would be here, but he would probably spend the whole evening being fussed over by one Rose Woodhouse. Satine had spent three rehearsals in that woman's company and had no desire to see any more of her for the rest of her life. She was ostensibly quiet and sweet, but the facade dropped when it came to Satine, who she obviously considered to be a common whore.

Christian seemed oblivious to Rose's attempts to gain his affection, and spent his energy on Satine. Satine felt a small blush creep up her neck as she remembered him at rehearsals. Other men in the cast bowed and scraped when she was looking and cast lustful looks behind her back, but Christian went out of his way to play the charming knight. He brought her refreshments, opened the doors, and simply talked to her. His beautiful eyes watched her every movement, but somehow it didn't bother her. His glance wasn't possessive. He gave and gave and never expected anything in return, content to just add to her life.

Ah, Miss Claudel, how good of you to come! the plump director bowed to her and his wife followed suit with an awkward curtsy. Satine couldn't help it-- she smiled, a warm, genuine smile that lit up her entire face.

Thank you, she said, handing her fur stole over to the nearest servant, revealing the heavy diamond necklace she wore. She heard Mrs. Day give a brief gasp, and Satine couldn't resist tracing a finger along the edge of jewels. Her diamonds, the diamonds the Duke had given her during the opening night of Spectacular Spectacular. They were magnificent. But the necklace always lay cold against her skin, as if reminding her that this gift was conditional. Like everything else the Duke had given her.

Satine turned and gave Warner a glare, which he faithfully ignored. He had been insisting on accompanying her everywhere she went, and by now, she was thoroughly annoyed by his constant presence. She wondered viciously if this was the Duke's way of keeping track of her. Satine sighed as Warner held out his arm expectantly. If he thought she was going to dance attendance on him the entire evening, he was mistaken.

Excuse me, please, won't you, she murmured to Warner. I need to go to the powder room for a few minutes and check my hair. The big man studied her for a moment and then nodded reluctantly.

Very well, Mademoiselle. I will be waiting by the punch table for you.

Thank you, Satine said, seething underneath her bright smile. She walked briskly off towards the direction of the ladies room. Once in the shadows of the hall, she ducked out onto a small balcony. She took a deep breath of the perfumed evening air and sank down onto a bench. She was nearly hidden by the darkened shadow of the tree, and on a whim, she reached back and unclasped the necklace she wore. Satine sighed with relief as the jewels released their hold on her. She tossed them onto the bench beside her and closed her eyes.

She was startled by another presence entering. She drew a little deeper into the comforting darkness, hoping that it wasn't Warner on a fishing expedition already. It was a little soon for that. Satine tilted her head, studying the profile of the man that stood with his back to her. He sighed and looked down, and she realized it was Christian.

she said. She winced. Why on earth had she spoken to him? Chances were that he wouldn't have even noticed her. Satine reluctantly admitted to herself that she wanted him to notice her-- wanted to spend time with him. She liked him. Christian turned to her, a wide smile appearing on his face, and Satine felt small flutter in her spirits. She liked him very much.

She rose and walked over to greet him, unaccountably delighted by the way he pronounced her name. He usually called her Mademoiselle, but at times when she startled him, or in the midst of a conversation, he would forget the title. Her name fell like poetry from his lips, as if he treasured it. Christian bowed over her hand and kissed it, so gently that she could barely detect the warm pressure of his lips on her fingers. Satine flushed, suddenly very grateful for the dim lighting.

What are you doing out here? she asked him. Christian shrugged, a little embarrassed.

I wanted to. . . well, see a little less of a few people. Satine barely suppressed her laugh.

Rose has gotten to you that much?

Well, yes, Christian admitted simply. She's a very nice girl, but I don't enjoy her company as much as. . . others. There was that look again, that gaze that was almost a caress in itself! Satine set her jaw. She would not allow herself to be affected by it.

What about you? Christian's eyebrows drew together as he caught sight of her diamonds lying abandoned on the bench. Satine laughed a little.

Oh, I'm avoiding Warner.

Christian said, his opinion of the manservant coming through his tone. Want help? Satine hesitated and then disregarded caution. She wanted to spend time with him. He brought a smile to her face just through his presence.

Certainly. Let's go for a walk. She took his arm and tugged him towards the maze of hedges. Christian looked back at the bench.

What about your necklace? Do you want me to carry it?

Thank you, Satine said softly. Her eyelashes descended onto her cheek for a moment and her lips curved up in a small smile. Christian was immediately enchanted.

The garden was strangely quiet in the twilight, broken only by faint strands of conversation and music from the house. The sky was a velvety blue and gold, rapidly softening towards night. They wandered through the maze arm in arm, not speaking. Christian cast a shy look over at Satine. A faint colour had appeared in her marble face, and she seemed alive and vivid here. Not the porcelain doll she showed to the rest of the world, but just Satine. He looked down at the diamonds in his hand and sighed. They were beautiful, but Christian was wise enough to recognize a collar when he saw one.

Oh, look. Satine's voice was slightly breathless, and she stopped walking. Christian looked out at the small fountain and rose garden that they had walked into. It was surrounded by an ornate fence, and he guessed that the next estate started over there. He could hear conversation from there, but it quickly faded when the music started. The soft swell of violins cascaded over into the rose garden, and he set the necklace down on a trim square of grass.

Will you do me the honor, my lady? He extended his hand out to her, hoping. . . Satine's hand hesitantly rested in his, and he drew her closer to begin their waltz.

Neither of them spoke for the dance. Satine tightened her hold on his shoulder as they moved together. She knew she was playing with a deadly flame, but all protests were silenced by Christian's hand on her waist. On a whim, she rested her head on his shoulder, warmth and security rushing over her.

Christian started at Satine's movement. A shot of joy went through him, and he dropped a light kiss on her hair. The moon was out now, gilding everything with a pale silver light. The water rose and fell in the fountain, echoing their dance.

Eventually the music drew to a close, and Satine raised her head and looked into Christian's eyes. His hand brushed her cheek tenderly, and then dropped to hold her waist loosely. Satine lifted her face, a dizzy feeling of euphoria running through her veins. Their lips met, timidly at first, but as she wrapped her arms around him, their kiss deepened. Christian closed his eyes. Satine's scent was intoxicating, and the taste of her mouth was the sweetest he could ever dream of.

After a few moments, they both stepped back, uncertain of what to say. It was Satine who broke the silence.

Will you meet at the park at midnight?

Christian breathed.

I'll be waiting for you there. She turned to hurry back, picking up her necklace as she did so.

Christian called. Perhaps he shouldn't say anything, but the words came out of him before he could think. Satine turned to face him, her eyes shining in the moonlight. A shy smile graced her face and Christian wanted nothing more than to keep it there for the rest of her days.



I never knew I could feel like this, he said quietly. It's like I've never seen the sky before.

Satine felt the first glimmer of tears appear in her eyes. She was so happy that her heart ached with the unaccustomed joy of it. This was heavenly-- like tasting ambrosia for the soul, all delicate and wonderful. Something she had thought was for angels alone.

she said, the longing in her heart transmitting to her voice. Nor did I. She desperately wanted to go back into his embrace, but instead she forced herself to refasten the clasp on her necklace. Remember. Midnight.

I'll be there.