Chapter IX: A Jealous Friend

Oh, Miss Claudel, how good of you to come! Ah. Mr. Warner. Paul Day's tone abruptly switched from a fawning into a cold civility as he caught sight of her companion. Satine wondered briefly if there was anyone in the world besides the Duke who actually liked his manservant. It was doubtful. Good of you to come.

Thank you, Warner said, either missing the change in voice or ignoring it. Satine, if you'll allow me. It was never a question, Satine reflected wryly as she let him take her furs. It was more a veiled command than anything. She swiftly ducked Warner and took the director's arm, leaving her content with a woman who was nearly his size. They would make a nice couple, Satine reflected mischievously as she entered the dining room. Will Jones, her co-star, sent her a polite nod. He was wonderful on stage, but utterly boring off of it, she thought wryly.

The room was lit with the gentle glow of candlelight rather than the dazzling electrical lamps, but she didn't mind. Satine actually liked the old-fashioned illumination. It softened the harsh edges of objects and faces and reminded her of times that were easier. Before the Moulin Rouge had fallen on hard time, when life was simple. But emptier, she thought ruefully, searching the room with her eyes. Love changed everything for her. She'd found the innocence she'd lost, and the hope she'd never had. All in the eyes of an enchanted boy.

And there he was. He stood there next to the window, staring out at the London sky. The warmth of the sunset outside lit up with face, and a small smile danced about his mouth. Satine felt a sudden, terrible rush of longing. It wasn't enough. The stolen kisses and conversation they snatched in between rehearsals didn't even begin to pacify her hunger to be near him. She needed him now like she'd needed diamonds in her former life. But those jewels had turned to ashes in the flame of their love.

She loved him so much, with every part of her mind, soul, and body. And they belonged to each other. Christian and Satine. How she would ever be able to let him go when the Duke returned, she didn't know.

With an effort, Satine shoved that thought away. She didn't want to wonder about the future now. She just wanted to drift in the happiness that kept a smile on her face day and night. She was able to see the beauty in the smallest things now. A flower petal drifting on a pond, or a soft breeze rushing through the curtains.

Christian watched the sky fade from glory, his hand bracing him against the window frame. Oh, how he missed her when she wasn't with him. He'd written about love, read about it, seen other people in love, but never before had he felt it. Now, though, everything was different. He no longer wondered why Shakespeare could compare his love to a summer's day. What had once seemed to be over-inflated rhetoric was now understatements. Satine was part of him. She not only had his heart, she was his heart.

Monsieur Everett? Her voice startled him out of his reverie. He turned, the joy at seeing her clouding his mind. She wore a lilac dress embroidered with white flowers, and a tiny white rose was tucked into her curls. Christian reflected that the angels in heaven could not be more beautiful than the woman he loved. He bent and kissed her hand gently, breathing in her perfume.

Mademoiselle Claudel.

Good of you to come, Monsieur. She sounded haughty, but her blue eyes sparkled mischievously at him. Christian inclined his head.

The pleasure is all mine, Mademoiselle. Satine's eyelashes lowered demurely on her cheek for a moment, and then she raised a piquant eyebrow.

All yours?

I beg your pardon, Christian said hastily. Of course it is entirely yours.

Rose's harsh English accent jarred on Christian's ears after hearing Satine's sweet, silvery tones. Won't you come and sit down! Christian's expression said exactly how much he liked that idea-- not at all-- but he bowed diplomatically and took his seat near Rose.

Rose narrowed her cold blue eyes at Satine as she sat down across from her. Resentment burned in her soul as she studied the graceful wings of her eyebrows and the high cheekbones. Why, why did the woman have to be so beautiful! Christian's infatuation with Satine grew more obvious daily, and Rose Woodhouse did not appreciate it at all. What business had the writer admiring the lead actress when he had a perfectly good potential bride right in front of him! She knew about the Everetts. They were a respectable upper middle class family rapidly gaining in wealth day after day. New wealth, of course, but one couldn't have it all.

But she couldn't have anything if Christian continued to make sheep's eyes at Satine! So the woman was pretty. She had some charming mannerisms, but that didn't change the fact that she was sleeping with the patron. Christian had to realize that! Rose set her jaw as the first course arrived.

How is the Duke, Miss Claudel? Rose asked innocently after taking a small bite of her food. Satine's lips might have tightened at that, but her face was otherwise calm as she answered.

I hear that he is enjoying China, Miss Woodhouse.

Pity you couldn't have joined him there, Rose remarked, deliberately keeping her tone benign.

Pity we couldn't have all joined him there, Satine said lightly, willing her face to remain relaxed. At the moment, she wanted nothing more than to pour her wine over Rose's head. Satine's fingers itched to do just that, but she contented herself with viciously twisting her napkin in her lap.

Oh, I think the Duke would enjoy your company much more, Rose remarked, the hard edge finally coming into her words. Her meaning was not misunderstood by anyone at the table. Warner's conversation halted, Christian looked worried, and Mr. and Mrs. Day stared nervously at them. Even Will had an expression on his face. Satine took a deep breath. She was not going to let Rose win this game. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Christian cut in.

I think anyone would enjoy Satine's company more than mine or even yours, Rose, he said lightly. I should think that hardly comes as a surprise-- not to reflect poorly on you, of course. Rose's face flushed and Satine allowed herself a tiny smirk. There. It was about time that someone told the little witch where she stood with Christian.

Of course, Rose said slowly after a long moment. She studied Christian's face carefully until her gaze drifted over to Satine. The intelligent light in her eyes was brightened by the sudden influx of knowledge. How silly of me. Her face hardened, robbing her of her beauty. She pressed a finger to her cheekbone, her glare fixed on Satine. Very silly. Satine swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her stomach and tried to stare down those eyes filled with venom.

I wouldn't worry about it, Satine laughed weakly as Rose looked away. She twisted her napkin again, wishing she could have some water help her suddenly dry mouth. Christian was beginning to be a little pale as well and she could tell that he wanted to comfort her. Satine began silently praying that he would stay where he was. Please, Christian, don't. Not here.

I don't, Rose said quickly, throwing her a forced smile. I don't suppose I could have some more wine-- ah, thank you. She took a sip of the ruby liquid and smiled. How's the wine, Mademoiselle Claudel?

Satine said faintly. She took an unsteady breath, scolded herself for it, and threw a brilliant smile across the table at her co-star. Tell me, Will, are you familiar with the Portmeandeu style of acting?

To some extent, Will answered quickly, glad as she was to return the table to normalcy. He tried to smile, but the Are you?

Very much, Satine replied, playing with her fork and ignoring Christian's earnest looks in her direction. Fear still held her securely in its grip. If Rose managed to get some wayward ideas through Warner's thick head, she would be in serious trouble. They'd been lucky thus far, but she wasn't going to take any chances. Not with Christian.

A night full of benign conversation passed, and Christian couldn't help but feel a little nervous by Satine's continued focus on everyone at the table but him. He bit his lower lip and scowled at dessert. If only he and Satine could eat dinner alone together, without the prying eyes of the world focused on them! An idea began to formulate in Christian's head. Maybe they could. . .

Satine surreptitiously fixed her eyes on Christian and sighed. Was this fair to him? To ask him to carry on a hidden romance, forbidden by her station and the ways of the world. She was a kept woman, not a pretty socialite. To have to frown at him when all she wanted to do was to laugh with him must take a toll on him as well as herself. She closed her eyes briefly. Oh, Christian, if only you knew how badly I want to be in your arms at this very moment, would you forgive me?

she murmured to him at the end of the evening. I'm sorry, she mouthed as he kissed her hand. When she glanced into his eyes for a moment, she was surprised and a little intrigued by the sparkle in them. What was he up to?

Till later, Mademoiselle, Christian said casually. At least, to anyone else he would sound casual. Satine raised an eyebrow at him. He definitely was up to something. The only question was what.

Try as she might, Satine couldn't quite repress a feeling of excitement. Two bright spots burned on her cheeks, and it was hard to swallow her smile as she walked out to her automobile. Being in love was wonderful.

A pair of cold blue eyes watched her from her from the shadows of the Day's garden as the automobile drove off. Rose Woodhouse might appear to be a quiet woman, but she had not risen to her position without cutthroat policies and a vicious sense of ambition. She wanted Christian Everett. And she was going to get him.

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Author's Note:

I don't own em, don't make any money off of em.

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Thanks to Celyn for help with this!