"...And I'll be a street serenader...la dee da...hee hee, and everybody'll love me...and they'll throw money...and I'll buy brandy...la dee da..."

Miss Ororo's silver brows met above her eyes in a worried frown, as she alternated between looking in concern at the splendidly-dressed girl to practically glaring at the handsome young man who was cradling her in his arms.
"What exactly did happen at the Acquillas' all-day party that would leave her like this?" the elegant African-American woman admonished, while Rogue continued to sing out gibberish and giggle rather foolishly from her position nested in Remy's arms.
"She, ah, apparently got a bit tipsy on some champagne," the charming Cajun replied, working to subtly change the subject. "Shouldn't you have been at the party? It's usually customary of young girls to go with their chaperones."
"There was work to be done at the plantation today--I had to supervise the birth and baptism of one of the maids' new baby," Ororo replied, lips set in a tight line. "This doesn't excuse the way you've returned Miss Rogue to us, Mr. LeBeau."
"I--" Remy began to defend himself, trying to think of a way to tactfully explain to the plantation's manager just how one of her charges had gotten herself into such an unladylike position.
"And what about her sisters?" Ororo cut in coldly, while Rogue hiccupped and giggled, then held out one of her hands and began spinning it around dizzily in the air. "Where are Miss Jean and Miss Kitty? Where's Mr. Xavier, for that matter?"
"Miss Jean and Mr. Xavier stayed behind at the party for the impromptu celebration of the former's engagement to a Pietro Maximoff--Miss Kitty is with her sister, in point of fact," Remy answered smoothly, as Ororo frowned and nodded at the realization that the announcement of Jean and Pietro's impending engagement had finally been made. "I personally took Miss Rogue home early after her little incident at the refreshments table."
"What happened?" Ororo demanded sharply, fearing that Rogue had gotten drunk and made a disgraceful spectacle of herself.
"She fainted--apparently her corset had been laced too tightly," Remy lied with a straight face, deciding that Ororo didn't need to know Rogue had instead begun singing and laughing at the top of her lungs after sneaking a few too many sips of champagne.
"That's a lie," Ororo snapped, and if Remy was surprised at how easily she'd seen through his words, he did an excellent job hiding it. "Miss Rogue would never faint, no matter how tightly her corset were laced. She's much too proud to ever swoon, especially in public."
"I see," Remy murmured quietly, more to himself than to the tall, silver-haired woman in front of him. "You're quite the lady, Miss Ororo. I really wouldn't mind getting to know you better." Ororo shot him a cross scowl; this was about as discourteous as a lady could ever hope to be to a gentleman, and she accompanied her look with a frosty demand of, "If it isn't too much to ask, Mr. LeBeau, I would like an account of what really did happen tonight, without any embellishments or little white lies."
"If you must." Remy sighed, then glanced down at the girl in his arms, who had somehow quieted down and looked as though she were almost sleeping, and spoke up pointedly, "But if you can wait a few minutes there, Miss Ororo, I think it'd be best that we get Miss Rogue to bed first." Ororo wordlessly walked away, taking a candle from a nearby maid and daintily lifting the front of her rustling skirts as she made her way upstairs, calling back calmly to Remy who was following her, "You can tell me the story on the way." Remy grinned at her words, a move which she couldn't see but somehow managed to sense.
"Very well, then, Miss Ororo," he conceded pleasantly.


Rogue smiled nervously to herself as Remy led her to the dance floor, darting what she hoped was a quick, inconspicuous glance back at Pietro to observe his reaction. Unfortunately for her, he, being Pietro, failed to miss the discreet slight turn of her head, and responded by smirking in his usual maddening way back at her, before raising his glass of champagne toward her as though proposing a toast.
"He's quite the charmer, isn't he?" an amused French-accented voice spoke up lazily, and Rogue froze at the sound of Remy's voice, cringing that she'd been caught by both men as she turned around as slowly as possible to meet his eyes.
"Ah...have no idea whatever it is that you're talking about," she lied, none too smoothly, and if her voice hadn't given her away then surely her blush and her eyes had.
"But of course you do, ma chérie," Remy teased, as they began to dance, and she unwittingly colored with pleasure at the way he'd reverted back to the more intimate term of "chérie." Remy continued, glancing over at Pietro, who was now being approached by Jean, "In fact, I'd say he would make a perfect match for you if he weren't engaged to your sister."
"You would?" Rogue couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that he felt she would make a good match with the unattainable Pietro. What about with Remy? What about him? an inner voice remarked dryly. A handsome and charming gentleman like him would never be interested in a long-term relationship with a wallflower like you--Remy's equally unattainable, in case you've forgotten. Rogue's shoulders slumped slightly without her noticing, as a tiny sigh escaped from her lips. Remy glanced down at her, asking gently, "Mademoiselle Rogue? Is something the matter?" Rogue snapped up, surprised that he'd noticed, and silently wondered whether all men were this observant or whether it was simply her lousy luck and poor timing.
"Of course not, why would anything be the matter?" she stammered nervously, trying to remember some of the charming words and tactics her sisters had countlessly used with suitors. "In fact, why would anything be wrong, when Ah'm in the company of so gallant and handsome a gentleman...?"

And then disaster struck, as Rogue, distracted with trying to wriggle gracefully out of her awkward situation and employ the feminine charms that she'd barely ever practiced, let alone polished, stumbled during the reel and wound up accidentally stepping on Remy's feet. Her already pale face drained of all color, and the fact that Remy looked like he was trying very hard not to burst out laughing at her blunder only worsened matters.
"Ah...Ah am so, incredibly sorry.." a mortified Rogue cried apologetically, scrambling to back off his feet and tripping over the edges of her full moiré skirts, promptly falling backwards...and right into the waiting arms of Pietro.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Maximoff," Remy spoke up in his ever amused voice, being answered with an equally flippant retort of, "And I see, Mr. LeBeau, that you have wasted no time in acquainting yourself with one of the county's young ladies." It was only when she heard the words exchanged between the two gentlemen that Rogue realized exactly what had happened, and she hastened to jump out of Pietro's arms, which, as she remembered the morning when she'd fallen out of her window, were getting to be a bit more familiar than was appropriate.
"Pietro," she greeted hastily, "Ah, er, didn't realize you were approaching." Her eyes swept over to Jean by his side, wearing a carefully even expression on her flawless features, and she quickly added, "With mah sister, of course." Jean spoke up.
"It's very nice to see how well you're getting along with Mr. LeBeau, Rogue," she remarked in a friendly voice, then added sweetly with a tinkling laugh, "I hope you won't mind, however, if you dance with Pietro this next reel? He seems to have this silly idea that I'm more interested in Mr. Worthington, and is apparently very intent on making me jealous." Rogue's mouth nearly dropped open, widening into a burgundy 'O' of surprise.
"Ah--" she started to protest, when at that moment the music started and Pietro grabbed her hand and led her a couple of feet away from Remy and Jean.

"Come on, Miss Rogue--you're not scared of me after that little incident by the tree a few hours ago, are you?" he teased, earning himself a scowl from Rogue, who, after a few moments of irate silence, decided to refrain from speaking and began automatically moving to the beat of the music. Her eyes were fixed on Remy and Jean, and she wondered whether the Cajun really was being more charming than usual with her sister or whether she was just overreacting. Distracted by Remy dancing with Jean and barely hearing the laughter and carefree chattering around her, Rogue drifted farther away into her own little world of observation and speculation, being abruptly snapped back only when Pietro playfully dipped her. She, in her unawareness of her surroundings, nearly dropped right down onto the floor, and would have smacked her head had the silver-haired youth not swiftly reached forward and lifted her back up in a single discreet, fluid motion.
"Wouldn't do that pretty little head of yours any good if you fell down, Miss Rogue," he murmured out of the corner of his mouth, and Rogue shot back, "Wouldn't do your pretty little reputation any good either, if your dancing partner commits such an ungraceful blunder and you fail to do anything about it, now would it?"
"Aren't you being sassy today," came the instant retort. "But you know, Miss Rogue, I--"
"Should really dance this next waltz with your future fiancée," Rogue quickly finished for him, taking her hands away from his as the dance ended and lifting her rustling skirts to head across the dance floor toward the available Remy, leaving a somewhat surprised-looking Pietro to stare after her retreating figure.

Remy greeted her with a boyish grin as she reached his side, joking cheerfully, "Glad to see you've come back, chérie--I was afraid I'd lost you to Mr. Maximoff." Rogue smiled back, replying playfully, "And Ah was afraid that Ah'd lost you to mah older sister," as Jean rejoined Pietro several feet away. The opening notes of the waltz started, as Remy lightly took her hand and drew her closer toward him, saying in a low voice, "What, and miss the opportunity to slow dance with you? Never." Rogue blushed happily, beginning to answer as they began to dance, "Ah'm very flattered, Remy--" She stopped abruptly in mid-sentence, a worried frown beginning to knit into her eyebrows when Kitty came into view, with Kurt trailing a couple of paces behind her and surrounded by a multitude of young men who'd tried their luck at courting Rogue earlier during the party--John, Ray, Bobby, and even Jamie--listening intently to something the perky brunette was saying.
"Oh, no," Rogue muttered under her breath, realizing that Kitty had finally found out who'd set her up with Jamie and was now intent on pay back.
"Chérie?" Remy lifted an eyebrow at her. "Is the prospect of slow dancing with me really that bad? Because I'm sure Mr. Maximoff will be more than happy to switch partners!"
"No, it's not that..." Rogue's voice trailed off, and she could only watch in dismay as the first wave of ex-beaus began approaching.

St. John Allerdyce was the first to make his presence known, as he boldly cut in and literally swept Rogue away from the bemused and slightly amused Remy, calling out cheerfully, "Sorry, sir, but Miss Rogue and myself have to finish a little chat we began earlier this afternoon." Remy's upper lip began to curl up in a little smirk, while Rogue glared in annoyance at John and hissed angrily, "What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm just saving you from the troubles of having that big bloke step all over your feet," John replied innocently, and Rogue scowled.
"Actually, Remy happens to be a divine dancer," she began to boast haughtily, and John grinned and taunted, "Really? How would you know, considering the fact that you spent more time dancing with your sister's fiancé than with that Cajun?" Rogue blushed, but before she had to think up a civil retort, Bobby cut in to save her the trouble, whisking her away from the blonde Australian native and chirping brightly, "So, Miss Rogue, it's a shame we lost track of each other over the course of the party, isn't it?" Rogue was busy trying to get a glimpse of Remy, and what she saw didn't exactly please her, as a swarm of waiting girls promptly crowded around the charming Cajun and began leading him off to dance with them.
"Yes, it is," she replied distractedly, not even knowing what it was she'd just agreed to but figuring it must have been the right thing, for Bobby nodded happily.
"But don't worry, I don't plan on--" he started to bubble, when he was yanked away by Ray, who stepped in and took the younger boy's place dancing with Rogue.
"Hn. Sorry about the fan this morning," he grunted awkwardly, speaking more to Rogue's hair than to her face. Rogue craned her neck, trying to get a better view of Remy while replying obligingly, "Yes, it is." Ray's features twisted in confusion, as he demanded, "Does that mean you forgive me?"
"Yes, it is," Rogue repeated automatically, frowning and deciding that Amara was definitely flirting with Remy. So, guess he's the first one chivalrous and gallant enough for the little princess, she thought sourly to herself, pausing amid her furious train of thought to reply upon cue, "Yes, it is," to whatever it was that Ray had just told her. Ray paused abruptly during the dance, scowling as he realized that Rogue was barely paying any attention to him, and would have let his temper flare and said something cross to her had Jamie not quickly slipped in and pulled Rogue away.
"Miss Rogue?" the twelve-year-old boy spoke up shyly.
"Yes it is...Jamie?!" Rogue blinked in surprise, her attention finally wrenched away from Remy and all his adoring fans. "Jamie! What are you doing still up? Aren't you a bit too young to stay up for the ball?"
"Well, my nurse agreed to let me stay up and watch the first hour of the ball if I didn't cause too much trouble," Jamie explained in a tiny voice.
"Miss Rogue, did I tell you how divine you look--!" John hollered as he rushed over.
"Miss Rogue, do you need some water?" Bobby asked eagerly, pushing his way toward her as well.
"Miss Rogue," Ray began, as he also stalked up to the auburn-haired girl, "I know I haven't exactly been behaving like the Southern gentleman, but your sister said that--" Rogue sighed to herself as the suitors she'd worked so hard on getting rid of now came swarming back. Out of the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of the Acquillas' butler walking around holding a tray of champagne in elegant crystal glasses, and, remembering her father's plantation overseer Logan's numerous remarks about how alcohol was the best way to relax and forget all problems, reached over and snatched a glass, ignoring the curious look of the servant and the disapproving glares from the matrons as she downed all the champagne in one swallow.

A few feet away, surrounded by pretty girls and being practically pulled in two different directions by Amara and Rahne, Remy watched with an amused twinkle in his eye as Rogue finished her first glass of champagne and ran away from her cluster of beaus to get another.


The next morning, Rogue woke up extremely late and feeling as though her head would burst, not knowing that she was suffering the effects of her first hangover. She blinked groggily at the bright sunlight that was filtering into her room from the open windows, then turned in her bed and spoke to the person standing by the heavy forest-green drapes, "What happened last night? It's rather strange that Ah don't remember a thing." Kitty turned from the window, laughing and teasing, "Apparently, you got a bit tipsy on champagne and made quite the scene, dearest sister." Rogue felt her cheeks grow hot, as she suddenly recalled a faint memory of singing the national anthem at the top of her lungs by the refreshment table, interrupting a beautiful waltz to show off her patriotic spirit.
"Ah...didn't mean to...Oh, stop laughing, it couldn't have been that bad!" she finally defended herself lamely, frowning and turning her head away.
"Yes it was," Kitty giggled. "In fact, Mr. LeBeau had to leave the party early and carry you home." Rogue nearly shot right through the ceiling when she heard this.
"He did what?!" she shrieked, a mixture of pleasure that he'd cared and embarrassment that he'd witnessed such an ungraceful and most definitely unladylike scene shooting through her.
"Miss Ororo certainly wasn't pleased, to say the least--I recall her telling Papa that you seem to be getting too comfortable being carried around in the arms of young gentlemen," Kitty teased, referring both to the previous night and to the morning when her sister had fallen out her bedroom window and into Pietro's arms.
"Ah...Miss Ororo...it's none of her business anyway..." Rogue's voice trailed off, and she finally ventured, "Where is Remy...er, Mr. LeBeau? Ah'd like to, uh, thank him for his favor last night..."
"Oh, he left early this morning but should be coming back soon," Kitty replied airily. Her eyes darkened slightly, as she added, "But to be quite honest, I expect him to be cutting his visit short after that letter he received a couple of hours ago."
"A letter? From whom?" Rogue asked with little curiosity. Kitty shrugged.
"From a woman named Belladonna," she disclosed.
"Belladonna? Is that his sister?" Rogue's voice was casual, as she got out of bed and began to get dressed. Kitty moved over to help lace her sister into her corset, answering while her fingers moved deftly over the lacy stays, "Actually, no. I think Mr. LeBeau mentioned that Belladonna is his wife, in fact."