Chapter Six

          She had been in the house for a week. Ever since that first afternoon, she had locked herself in her bedroom, not leaving and rarely accepting food.

Everyone in this house was like the man from the Moulin. The maids…the butlers…everyone!

          They all looked at her like she was a prostitute…a whore. None of them said it, but she knew it was what they were thinking. They were the reason she stayed locked up, serving her own condemnation of solitude.

          "I want to leave," She whispered to herself as she settled into the window seat in her room. She gazed out the window, letting her eyes fall on the gardens and fountains that made up the property of the James Manor.

          She sighed, knowing that if she left, she'd have nowhere to go. She lifted her eyes from the gardens when she heard a tapping on her door.

          "Satine…it's Christian. May I come in?"

          She hesitated. He was the only one in the household with whom she could trust…that she did trust.

          She opened the door.

          The first thing she saw were his eyes, stormy and beautiful.

          Then she noticed his face was twisted with worry. He did not wear a smile. His fists were clenched nervously at his sides.

          "May I come in?" He asked, entering after she nodded in approval. He sat down on the window seat that she had just vacated and motioned for her to join him.

          She hesitated, not knowing if she really wanted to be that close to someone.

          Finally, she sat.

          "You've been on my mind since you…um…in the hallway…when you first arrived," Christian said, a bit uneasily, as his voice did tell.

          "I'm sorry about that. I was just shaken from…what happened in the… in the alley that morning," She lied, not wanting to discuss the true reason behind her collapse.

          "I know you're lying," Christian said, his gaze leaving her's and turning to the window.

          "I am not!" She said, a bit too loudly for her words to seem sincere.

          "You said something about a man at the Moulin. I assume you meant the Moulin Rouge. The Moulin Rouge is in France and you are from France, which I realized because of your accent. Something happened there and I want to know…I want to help you," His eyes were penetrating hers.

          "It was nothing…"She started, rising from her seat at the window, "I was ten years old and something happened and I left," She finished after taking a deep breath. She was fighting tears.

          "That 'something' that happened effected you…it made you collapse. I need to know about it in order to help you."

          "I don't need your help!" She said loudly, tears splashing down her cheeks. He stood and she fell into his open arms, sobbing into his strong shoulder. 

          "It…it was…twelve years ago. I…worked…at the…Moulin Rouge…" She managed to blurt out before her sobs became too strong for any words to be understandable.

          "Shh…it's alright, Satine. You were a little girl…you didn't know the difference between right and wrong," Christian whispered, stroking her back soothingly.

          "I…I know…but he…just…didn't care that I…was…only ten…" She stuttered, her hands gripping the back of Christian's shirt tightly.

          "What man? Tell me about him," Christian whispered. She sucked in breath just remembering that man's face.

          "He had light hair…and black eyes…like two pieces of coal…and he had cold hands…like ice…"

          "Did you know him? Do you have his name?" She shook her head no.

          "You have to forget about him…make way for happier memories,"

          "I'm afraid I won't…be able to," She whispered, pulling back so she looked into Christian's eyes.

          "I'll help you," He said, smiling.

          "I don't think you can."

          "May I prove you wrong?" He asked, his eyes glittering.

          "How will you do that?" She asked curiously, wiping away tears.

          "Like this," He whispered, before bringing his lips to hers. Her body tingled with warmth that she hadn't felt for years. She felt alive with his lips moving tenderly over hers.

          When he pulled back, the warmth did not leave her.

          "Have I proven you wrong?" He asked, tenderly stroking her cheek. She nodded, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He had touched her cheek like that.

          Christian is not that man!! Her mind screamed. She smiled and Christian took her lips again.

          He left Satine's room only minutes later, fearing that he'd take advantage of her willfulness. She was too vulnerable and he knew it.

          He let himself smile, feeling triumphant. He had managed to persuade her to reveal her innermost secrets, secrets that had clearly been tormenting her for years.

          He was also smiling because he had kissed her…and she had kissed back. Ryan would probably laugh if he knew how his younger brother was reacting to a simple kiss. But to Christian, it had been more then a kiss. He had poured out feelings he did not know he had had through a connection of lips. His heart was still pounding and he wanted to ask Satine if her's was as well, but going back to her room would be too tempting. He was only human.

          He was so deep in thought that he didn't realize Ryan was in the hallway until he had actually hit into him.

          "I always knew you were blind," Ryan said, chuckling as he helped Christian up from the ground.

          "Oh…sorry," He mumbled, breathing deeply. The air smelled like the perfume Satine had been wearing.

          "What's wrong with you?" Ryan asked. Christian did now hear him, though, because he was, once again, thinking of Satine.

          "Christian. Christian! CHRISTIAN!!" Ryan yelled, hitting his brother across the head.

          "What?? I'm not allowed to think anymore without getting attacked?" He said defensively. His brother eyed him suspiciously, but walked passed him, continuing down the hallway to the stairs.

          "Dinner's ready, by the way!" Ryan called as he descended down the staircase.

          Christian sighed and walked to his room to change. His clothes were muddy; he had been by the stream again. He seemed to be going there a lot. He threw his dirty shirt aside and pulled on a fresh pair of trousers.

          When he heard a knocking on his door, he assumed it was Ryan again. He didn't bother putting on a shirt…it was his brother, after all.

          It was not his brother.

          When the door opened, it probably would have been impossible to tell who was more shocked: him or Satine.

          "O…Oh…I'm sorry…I just…your mother…dinner?" She stuttered. He choked back laughter because she was clearly disoriented and laughing would have made her angry. It was very hard not to laugh.

          "Tell my mother that I'll be right down," He said, not able to stop a smile from crossing his face. Her features were a bit less distorted once he smiled.

          "Alright," She said, but she didn't move away from the door.

          "I could always join you as is," Christian said, chuckling and running a hand through his hair.

          "No…I think your mother would prefer you there with a shirt on," Satine said, laughing.

          Christian resisted the urge to ask, "But would you?" and, instead, smiled and closed the door.

          Dinner was quiet that night, as it always was when his father was away on business. Thomas James hadn't been home for two weeks, but he was due back tomorrow.

          Christian was glad his father was away. The house was always more pleasant when he was gone.

          "I'm glad you could join us, Satine," His mother said when everyone was seated. Satine blushed and thanked Elizabeth.

          "Christian, I bought one of those paintings that you wanted," Ryan said, smiling, "It's in the study."

          "One of Toulouse-Lautrec's paintings!" He said, poorly hiding the excitement in his voice. Ryan nodded.

          "I remember him," Satine said quietly, pushing food around her plate with her fork.

          "Y…you knew Toulouse-Lautrec??" Both he and Ryan exclaimed.

          "Yes…he lived in a garret above the one I had when I worked…when I lived in Montmartre," She had stuttered on her words and Christian knew what she had meant to say: When I had worked at the Moulin Rouge.

          "A garret?? How very Bohemian!" Elizabeth exclaimed, laughing.

          "Montmartre?" Ryan asked. Satine nodded slowly; clearly unsure of where he was going to take the conversation, "Isn't that where the Moulin Rouge is?"

          Christian was sitting beside Satine, so he saw her body freeze up at the last two words his brother uttered.

          "I believe it is, Ryan…right, Christian?" Elizabeth said, her brow furrowing as she tried to remember the geography of France.

          "Yes, it is mother. The Moulin Rouge is in Montmartre," He said quietly, squeezing Satine's hand under the table.

          "Why is my family discussing a village of sin at my dinner table??"

          They all turned in their chairs and Christian felt anger swell within him.

          Daddy was home.