"Don't worry, she's getting some well-deserved rest at last, and should be just fine within a couple of days...physically, at least." The last part of his sentence was said in a low, concerned voice, and Miss Ororo picked up on that immediately and asked, "What do you mean, physically? A fainting spell shouldn't prove to be that distressing, should it?" She briefly closed her eyes as she remembered the frenzied panic that had surrounded the house when Remy had brought Rogue back after she'd run off during the family's welcoming of Belladonna. Ororo had never trusted the tall, darkly handsome Cajun, and she liked him even less after he'd returned Rogue in the same condition he had just the previous night--cradled in his arms as though she were his bride to be carried over the threshold. Only this time the situation was more grave, and Ororo needed take only one look into the panicked eyes of the usually charmingly collected Mr. LeBeau to know that something was wrong before being told that Rogue had fainted.
"Yes, it is pretty unusual to call in a doctor when a young lady has a swooning spell," Dr. McCoy's gentle, steady voice broke into Ororo's thoughts. "However, in this case, I'm glad you did."
"What do you mean?" Kitty spoke up worriedly, a frown darkening her usually sunny face as she alternated between looking at the family doctor to her sister resting on the bed.
"I can't quite pinpoint her problem just yet," Dr. McCoy admitted as he began packing up his kit. "I can stand here and give you every fancy diagnosis in the book, but to be quite honest, it seems as if Miss Rogue has been carrying around quite an emotional burden that has finally taken its toll on her body and caused it to temporarily shut down from exhaustion."
"What does that mean?" Kitty's lips began to quiver, and she turned worried blue eyes to Miss Ororo, seeking a more reassuring diagnosis. Ororo reached out and comfortingly stroked the young girl's hair, saying soothingly with a calm that she herself didn't even feel, "It simply means that your sister will need a little more time than usual to rest and recover, that's all." And she shot a meaningful look at Dr. McCoy, as if to tell him to keep any more upsetting diagnoses from Kitty.
Outside Rogue's room, Jean
paused from her trip to fetch some tea for the good doctor, turning instead
to the solitary figure sitting in the hallway with his head lowered defeatedly
over his knees and a still burning cigar dangling from his fingers. She
cleared her throat quietly to announce her presence, before dropping down
to match his height in his seated position and said in a soft, gentle voice,
"You know, Mr. LeBeau, that the entire family is indebted to you for bringing
Rogue back safely. Even Miss Ororo is immensely grateful, and especially
Papa and Kitty and myself." Her attempt at cheering him up brought only
a humorless laugh from Remy, who failed to even raise his head in a half-hearted
attempt to greet her.
"Mr. LeBeau, please don't
blame yourself if you think you're the reason that my sister fainted,"
Jean tried again, this time stirring a response in the Cajun as he finally
lifted his head but didn't straighten up from his slouched position. How
kind yet naïve she is, Remy thought silently to himself as he
gazed at the concerned frown that had settled into her flawless features.
She doesn't know that I'm the exact reason why Miss Rogue's in such
a state! Out loud he spoke, "But I do blame myself, Miss Jean,
and there's no need to treat me with this kindness. I..." His voice trailed
off there, and he wondered just how he could explain to such a dignified
young lady the outrageous proposal that he'd dared bring up to her sister.
Jean, meanwhile, was looking at him with an understanding expression in
her eyes.
"You're fond of her, aren't
you?" she guessed quietly, and Remy felt as though the wind had been knocked
out of him. She knew! But how...?
"I...have taken quite a
liking to your sister," he finally admitted, his shoulders slumping in
defeat. What was the point in lying? Jean, fortunately, was nodding in
agreement rather than glaring at him as though he were some sort of vile
scoundrel.
"I'm glad you have managed
to see through my sister's facade of coldness and sarcasm to realize just
how wonderful a person she is," the lovely redhead smiled, earning a lifeless
shrug from Remy, who was too distressed to even feel any relief that Jean
had misinterpreted his love for Rogue as mere friendly affection, and not
something deeper. Yes, Rogue was wonderful. She was beautiful and
she was intelligent, but she wasn't aware of that, having lived in the
shadows of a dazzling older sister and slowly being outshone by a promising
younger sister, and it only made him all the more affectionate and protective
of her. She was like a fragile rose, to be cherished and nurtured, for
she suffered from a severe lack of any self-esteem due to having lived
for fifteen years believing she was the least desirable of Xavier's otherwise
gorgeous and charming daughters. But despite her low self-confidence, Rogue
possessed an inner strength and sauciness that in fact made her the most
desirable of all the other demure, carefully timid county belles. Remy
had seen flashes of her strong yet resourcefully mischievous side when
she'd lied about having promised all her dances to him in an effort to
get rid of her unwanted beaus, and even when she'd gotten tipsy on champagne
and had had the humor and boldness to stride up in front of everybody and
sing the national anthem at the top of her lungs.
Remy abruptly snapped himself
out of his thoughts, asking hoarsely, "Belle...where's Belladonna?" as
if to remind himself that he was, indeed, married. The quickest flash of
surprise darted across Jean's eyes at his hasty change of subject, before
she smoothly replied while covering up what her true feelings might be,
"She departed shortly after you'd left to search for my sister, in fact,
and mentioned something about still needing to unpack her suitcases. She
told me to remind you that she'll be staying at the Congressional Hotel
in the city, in case you'd forgotten." If Jean thought that this was an
unusual rooming arrangement for a married couple--which she probably did--she
was too polite to ask any questions.
"I...er...thank you." After
having initially used his wife as a forceful reminder that Rogue was definitely
out of his reach, Remy no longer knew what to do or say. He certainly didn't
want to face Belladonna--at least not at the moment--especially considering
how he would be unable to cover up his true emotions with his mind in its
present state of turmoil.
"Are you going to the hotel
to be with her, Mr. LeBeau?" Jean asked with mild curiosity, then added
quickly, "You don't have to feel obliged to stay here, I can assure you
that my sister will be all right."
"I..." Remy struggled for
something to say, his mind running a mile a minute as it thought up and
then discarded a thousand reasons to linger and remain at the house, where
he might catch if only a glimpse of Rogue.
Finally, after realizing
his inability to conjure up any reasonable excuses, he gave up and muttered,
"I suppose I should return to my wife." Jean stood up, smoothing over her
full skirts and absently placing a tendril of strawberry-red hair behind
her ear as she accompanied him to the door.
"I can still expect you
and Mrs. LeBeau at the wedding in three months, can't I?" she asked amiably
as the Cajun shrugged on his coat and reached for his hat. "Or do you plan
on returning to New Orleans immediately?" Remy wore a distracted frown
as he paused briefly before tucking his hat over his dark brown hair.
"No, and even if we were,
there's no chance I'd be absent during your wedding, Miss Jean--after all,
it'll be my duty to play the role of protective older brother and threaten
the lucky groom that he better not break your heart, or I'd make sure to
do certain things that really shouldn't be mentioned in the presence of
a lady," Remy quipped, a spark of his old charm beginning to return while
inwardly he made a silent note that he'd have to later battle Belladonna
at the hotel to stay in Mississippi for three more months. A thought suddenly
occurred to him while Jean giggled at his joke, and he asked in a carefully
even voice, "But three months, Miss Jean, is quite a short period of time
for an engagement...please forgive me if I'm intruding, but--"
"Nonsense; I have no intention
of keeping petty little secrets against a friend of my father's," Jean
hastened to reassure him, then explained about the curiously short engagement,
"You see, Pietro's father has arranged for him to attend an university
in Germany starting this autumn, and neither of our families wanted to
wait four years for the actual marriage, so..."
"I understand," Remy broke
in. He paused at the doorway, taking off his hat which he'd only placed
on five minutes earlier and offering a short bow to the beautiful redhead.
"Well, I hope to see you around, Miss Jean...and, ah, please give my regards
to Miss Rogue when she wakes up."
"I'll let you know of her
recovery as soon as she's better," Jean offered sweetly, then closed the
door after exchanging the appropriate good-byes. Remy stood at the doorsteps,
staring intently at the heavy piece of oak between him and the Xavier house,
almost as if he could see through the finely polished wood and search out
a glimpse of the fitfully sleeping Rogue. Finally, he returned his hat
to his head and began to walk slowly away from the building.
Two Weeks Later...
"Can you believe Jean'll
be getting married in less than three months? It's so exciting..."
"I know, although that was
a rather dubious choice she made when she picked her maid--or rather, maids--of
honor..."
"Well, you can't expect
someone as loyal as her to pick anyone but those two sisters of hers, now
can you?"
"I suppose, and I have no
problem with Kitty being one of them, although in a sense I pity Jean for
having a sister as antisocial as Rogue being her other maid of honor..."
"Aw, don't be such a jealous
cat..."
"But you have to admit that
Rogue's personality has taken a turn for the worse ever since she
fainted and had her entire house in chaos, calling in the family doctor
when some simple smelling salts would have waken her up..."
"Well, all I can say is
that Jean's the first one of us to get married--not that I'm terribly surprised
by that; with all those suitors, she was bound to have finally picked one
sooner or later..."
"Personally, I don't see
why she's rushing into marriage so soon--she's only sixteen, and I know
that if I were in her position, I wouldn't want to give up the lifestyle
of a Southern belle so easily just to don boring old matron's dresses and
work all day managing a plantation..."
"Tabby, if it were up to
you, you'd still be dancing and wearing pretty dresses when you're thirty!"
"Except that nobody then
will want to dance with a spinster who should already be a matriarch, when
there are sixteen-year-old belles around!"
"Speaking of matriarchs,
have you girls heard that Mr. LeBeau's wife has left for New Orleans...without
Mr. LeBeau?"
"No! What happened?"
"I don't know anything but
rumors, Rahne, and all I've heard is that she departed after a supposedly
terrible argument at their hotel."
"I heard they've
never gotten along in the first place, that they've been estranged ever
since their wedding day, and now Mr. LeBeau's finally seeking to do the
unthinkable!"
"He's going to ask for a
divorce? Amara, you're terrible for spreading rumors like that!"
"Rahne, this isn't just
petty gossip; I overheard my mother telling my father about it last night
when they were discussing New Orleans's degenerating morals, and Mother
brought up Mr. LeBeau and the fact that he might be looking for a divorce
from his wife as an example."
"Remy's divorcing that Belladonna?!"
A sudden silence fell over the massive bedroom as the girls, in their
corsets and petticoats, milled about to exchange gossip while their maids
helped them dress for the formal evening ball that was to take place after
the morning's festivities. Rogue stood in the doorway, having returned
before her two sisters had, and now she swept each and every girl in a
long, even gaze as she repeated through clenched teeth, "Ah'll ask this
again. Remy's been trying to divorce Belladonna?" Rahne was the first one
to speak.
"Of course not," she tittered
nervously, trying to cover up her embarrassment and apprehension with laughter
while discreetly elbowing Amara to stay silent. "We'd never spread rumors
that could damage the reputation of a guest of your father's! Amara was
just kidding around, that's all...weren't you Amara?"
"A true lady never "kids
around," as you've so eloquently put it--" Amara began to say haughtily,
when Tabitha quickly cut her off.
"Why Rogue, your new dress
looks just dazzling--I'll bet Bobby and Ray will definitely start courting
you even more eagerly after tonight, huh?" she tried to tactfully change
the subject. Rogue glanced down at her frothily pale jade organdie with
its feathery, billowing skirts, arching an eyebrow at Tabitha as if to
remind her of its charmingly simple design, before suddenly turning around
and stalking off without another word.
As soon as Rogue had left,
the room exploded with conversation again, as all the girls tried to cram
in as much gossip about her as they could before her sisters arrived.
"Ugh, that was certainly
awkward!" Tabitha exclaimed as she collapsed backwards onto a bed, at the
same time that Amara sniffed distastefully, "How unladylike of Rogue to
just barge in here like that and start questioning us about Mr. LeBeau's
marital affairs as though it were her personal business!" Rahne, meanwhile,
kept staring curiously at the spot where Rogue had stood, even as the other
girls around her immediately started quieting down as the sound of Jean
and Kitty's light footsteps gave away their impending arrival.
"I wonder if she's planning
on confronting Mr. LeBeau about this whole nasty divorce business," she
wondered quietly to herself.
Rogue was...and she wasn't.
As she wove determinedly across the halls of the mansion standing proudly
in the middle of the Maximoff plantation, her mind running a mile a minute,
she wondered silently whether she should laugh with joy that Remy might
finally be free of Belladonna, or burst into tears that the Cajun was now
even less attainable than before, seeing how if he did go through
with a divorce from the blonde, Rogue's devoutly Catholic family would
much rather have her become an old maid than marry such a man. What was
worse, if a divorce did happen, they would probably expect her, as an unmarried
young girl, to never associate with such a man again, no matter how close
his ties were with her family.
"Oh, Ah hate these rules
and customs of the antiquated South!" she growled in frustration to herself,
stopping and slamming one fist against a wall before quickly withdrawing
it at the sudden flash of pain that flared across her knuckles in protest
of her brash action.
"Our customs may seem antiquated
to you, Miss Rogue," a dismayingly familiar male voice spoke up in amusement,
"but they have also accomplished in producing lovely ladies like your two
sisters. Perhaps with some time, these same "antiquated Southern customs"
might be able to tame your sassy temper as well...although if my dear twin
sister is any indication of what you might become in two years, then I'd
rather not think--" Rogue turned around angrily before he had a chance
to finish his smug sentence.
"Pietro, Ah don't have time
for your little games," she exploded hotly. "Why can't you just leave me
alone!" Pietro leaned back, pretending to be hurt.
"Now, now, Miss Rogue, is
that any way to talk to your brother-in-law?" he chided with a little smirk,
causing Rogue to scowl in response.
"You ain't going to be mah
brother-in-law for another three months," she reminded him in a chilly
tone of voice, beginning to push past him, "so in the meantime, Ah suggest
you get out of mah way so Ah can--"
"Flirt with the debonair
Mr. LeBeau, I suppose, now that his wife is rumored to soon be out of the
picture," Pietro finished smoothly, coolly for her. Rogue froze in her
tracks, feeling the blood drain from her face in shock and silently cursing
Pietro for always knowing the exact words to say that would make her halt
like this.
"How...how did you know?"
she whispered in a trembling voice, then corrected herself with a small
blush, "About the unconfirmed rumors that they've separated, Ah mean."
Pietro lazily rolled his eyes in her direction, drawling in an exaggerated
Southern accent to match her own prominent one, "Mah dear, you ain't the
only one with sources like this; Ah am quite aware of this county and its
more prominent citizens." Rogue scowled as the maddeningly taunting words
rolled off his lips.
"Ah don't talk like that,
you ridiculous clown of a man," she snapped. "And Ah'm also not planning
on standing around to let you further insult mahself or Remy like this."
And she rustled her skirts and stomped off, purposely snapping her hair
back as she elbowed past him to let it hit him squarely in the cheek.
