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."
