The Lovers are Discovered
The next several days progressed with the same pleasant routine – the Duke interrupted us on occasion, but it was all too easy for us to conduct our love affair right under his nose. Just as the story between the courtesan and her penniless sitar player progressed, we found similar excuses to spend every possible moment together we could – because what was, after all, more plausible than the lead actress being dedicated to learning her part through rigorous rehearsal?
For his part, the Duke was fairly tolerant of his attempts at getting me alone being thwarted by Christian's frequent interruptions – and as for myself, I was thankful for them. Even as I sat with the Duke, watching the others conduct the rehearsal of one of the more elaborate dance numbers, Christian came up behind us and knelt down alongside my chair.
"Mademoiselle Satine," he spoke up, "I haven't quite finished writing that new scene."
I turned and gave him a faintly questioning look.
"The . . . 'will the lovers be meeting in the sitar player's humble abode?' scene," he provided, "And I was wondering if I could work on it with you later tonight."
Realization dawning – as well as appreciation for Christian's cleverness – I lifted a brow, but the Duke was soon to protest.
"But my dear – I've arranged a magnificent supper for us in the Gothic Tower."
"Well, it's not important," Christian responded with melodramatic reluctance, his tone suggesting otherwise. "We – we could work on it tomorrow."
"How dare you," I scolded instantly. "It cannot wait until tomorrow. 'The lovers will be meeting in the sitar player's humble abode' scene is the most important in the production! We'll work on it tonight until I am completely satisfied."
My tone left no room for refusal, and as the Duke attempted to put up another protest, I lifted a finger to silence him. "Dear Duke, excuse me."
Then I pivoted and walked off, moving backstage.
Christian, I knew, left in the opposite direction, but he met me up on the balcony, eagerly pulling me into his arms and leaning forward to kiss me as if we hadn't seen each other all day. We had, of course, but it still didn't affect our longing.
When we had to pause to draw breath, he leaned back and gave me a look of anticipation. "You'll come tonight?"
"Yes," I assured him with a faint laugh, then pulled back and gestured for him to leave before we were seen together.
He started to walk away, then paused again, asking, "What time?"
"Eight o'clock!" I repeated in exasperation, waving him away.
Christian moved toward the stairs, but turned back to offer me a grin, and I couldn't help but laugh at his appearance – he had my lipstick all over his face, but then that was no uncommon occurrence these days.
"Promise?" he asked.
"Yes!" I called. "Now, go!"
With a self-conscious smoothing of my hair, I watched him vanish – making sure he was actually going this time – then turned to leave as well, only to be startled by the disapproving face of Harold. My eyes widened and I unconsciously stepped backward, frozen by his expression.
"Are you mad?" he demanded. "The Duke holds the deeds to the Moulin Rouge. He's spending a fortune on you. He's given you a beautiful new dressing room – he wants to make you a star. And you're dallying with the writer!"
I feigned innocence, shaking my head carelessly. "Oh, Harold, don't be ridiculous –"
"I saw you together!" he shouted, abruptly ceasing my protest.
I shrank back and felt a nervous flutter in my stomach as everything began to come crashing down. It was almost as if I were a little girl again, being disciplined by the closest thing to a father figure I'd ever had.
"It – it's nothing," I stammered, lying unconvincingly. "It's just an infatuation . . . it's nothing."
"The infatuation will end," he said shortly. "Go to the boy, tell him it's over. The Duke is expecting you in the Tower at eight."
With those ominously final words, Harold turned and walked away, leaving me alone. I stared out into the distance, my heart feeling as if it had been broken. Christian was everything to me, but now Harold knew – and how long would it be before the Duke did, as well?
Everyone was relying on me, everyone needed me to carry through . . . I had to do it. They needed me. But Christian . . .
If I should die this very moment, I wouldn't fear . . .
For I've never known completeness like being here.
Wrapped in the warmth of you, loving every breath of you . . .
"Why live life from dream to dream . . . and dread the day . . ." I questioned myself bitterly, making the walk back to my dressing room that seemed to take ages.
Still my heart this moment, or it might burst.
Could we stay right here till the end of time,
Till the earth stops turning?
As I wound my way backstage, a coughing spell similar to all the others I'd been having over the past several weeks seized me suddenly, and I began to gasp for air, my body shaking violently with each wracking cough. I stared in shock at the blood on my hand, but had little time to consider it, as everything started to spin.
Want to love you till the seas run dry.
I've found the one I've waited for . . .