Author's Notes: So much for posting the chapters quicker! (but in fairness I posted the last chapter last Monday and now the latest is here, and it's only Friday!) Bleh. I just finished 16 out of the 200 hours required for the internship, and it was just… bleh! Thank God I have my three other friends with me :)

Oh! Three exams tomorrow!!! THREE!!!! OHMYGOD!!!

Ok-ay! You might be thinking, enough about me already, let's get to the (hopefully) good stuff!!! Shutting up now… :)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to 'The Lost World'

Dedication: This is to the fabulous fab (okay, that was a bad pun, I know… :p) I love your review, I really do! And Tez. LOL! You were totally right in your guess… I was really happy that you saw that 'bloody mess' comment. I was waiting for someone to comment on it, and I was very happy that you did!

Behold the Façade

Six

John Roxton allowed his large, calloused fingers to completely cover her small, smooth ones. The feeling was quite exquisite; the textures of their hands were truly a wonderful contradiction. Their hands touched, palm to palm, pulse to pulse. He felt her blood flow in that delicate rhythm on her wrist, felt the rapidness that quickly set in when he took her hand. It made him proud, that even though she appears to be unaffected, her body proves otherwise, that indeed his charm has achieved its purpose. But then, what? What comes after?

He decided not to prod on that road further, at least not until after he had his dance with her.

"Why the smile, Lord John Roxton?" she queried, one brow arched, as he guided her slowly towards the dance floor of the ballroom, as they left William to his lonesome.

John didn't even notice that he was smiling until she mentioned it. "I am just relishing my victory for this night," he stated.

"Victory?"

They stopped walking right at the middle. The crowd seemed to know their importance as they thinned and eventually dispersed, until only a couple of pairs remained brave enough to share the same floor.

"Yes, victory. My accomplishment. It's not often that I get a second chance around women, you know."

She smiled somewhat snidely. "Somehow I do not doubt the truth behind that."

John lifted his other hand and placed it on her waist, while the other held on to its precious treasure. In beat with the first note, he stepped on forward… and stepped right at her foot.

She hissed in pain. "Brave enough to ask a lady for a dance, and yet quite the idiot when it comes to the actual dancing, aren't you, Lord Roxton?"

He looked down at their feet and hastily removed his foot on hers, disconcerted with the thought that he might have broken some of her bones because of the unusually large feet that he has. "Sorry, sorry." He mumbled apologetically.

"Well. If the ceremony tomorrow cannot be commenced because the bride accidentally suffered a broken foot, William will certainly know who to blame, and eventually, murder."

John looked right at her face and caught the self-satisfied smirk in them. He cocked his head. "That can always be arranged," he countered. "Why don't I step on your other foot as well… maybe we can start a tradition where the bride is wheeled in instead of her walking in."

Her face broke into a wide grin and, surprisingly, she chuckled. "Do let's try to actually dance, shall we? And please, sir – be kind enough to be mindful of my feet."

"I'll try that, Miss Marguerite."

There was a short moment of silence between them, him actually being cautious about her feet, her being observant of his expression. Eventually, they finally managed to catch their own rhythm after she showed him some of the basic moves.

"I must say that you learn pretty quickly, Lord Roxton." She told him after a minute or two. "You hardly step on my feet anymore. I'm impressed."

John grinned at her. "I have an impressive tutor. And please, call me John." he said. "It can be pretty confusing, since there are technically two Lord Roxtons."

"So I've noticed." She said. "Honestly, as embarrassing as it may sound, I do not know much about you, since William rarely mentions anything about his brother. Truth be told, I don't think he even mentioned you at all."

"The boy must have been pretty occupied to think of his brother. Anyways, I do not blame him; if I were on his shoes I'm guessing I would probably be too busy to be even thinking of my own name." John gave her a long, meaningful look, one that he knew she wouldn't miss. When she said nothing in reply, he shrugged and continued. "Makes us quite even, doesn't it? You don't know about me and I don't know anything about you."

She nodded. "And you never will." She said cryptically.

He ignored the remark. "But we still have tonight," he said. "We still have the remainder of this song to know more about the other. Tell me, Marguerite. Where are you from? Who are your parents? D you have any siblings? How did you meet my brother?"

"I didn't know I was invited for a questioning, officer." She quipped. "Will it satiate you if I were to say that if I were to marry William then my life might as well have started from the first day of our lives together? That I would deem the past… my past, that is, irrelevant and completely unimportant, so questions like that won't seem to matter anymore?"

John frowned at her. "Such simple questions, Marguerite. And yet you avoid answering them like the plague."

"I have my reasons, John." There seems to be a heavy emphasis on his name. "Reasons which my husband is the only one fit enough to know."

"I didn't know my brother will be marrying a Jane Doe."

She wrinkled her nose. "Jane Doe?"

"A woman without any identity. Full of mysteries and intrigues. That's what you are."

"Huh. Well," her signature smirk came back on, full force. "there's a lot that you don't know about me, John. And I doubt that you ever will."

The song that the orchestra was playing abruptly pulled to a halt.

She pulled her hand from his, and gave him quite a scathing look when he didn't give any indication of letting her go. "Song's ended." Marguerite told him. "I better get back to William."

John, while still holding onto her hand, glanced at the orchestra. "Another song is starting," he said. "One more dance, Marguerite."

She glared at him. "Victory's almost always short and sweet, John. Besides, you said so yourself, you have luck at getting second chances from women." Then, with a surprising display of agility and strength, she quickly yanked her hand free from his hold. One last wicked stare at his direction, before she said, "But I just don't think you have a good shot at getting a third." And with that, she turned on her heels and walked out of the dance floor, and left John with more than his fair share of curious stares from those around him.

*

"Marguerite!"

She turned around. "What?!" said she in a biting tone.

Jerome was surprised. "Are you alright? You look quite flushed." He said, indicating the pink tinge on her cheeks.

Marguerite knew this, for she could still feel the heat radiating off of them. "I'm fine," she muttered. "Just had myself some form of conversation with William's brother."

"John? He's here?" Jerome asked. He looked around them, then spotted the older Roxton being hugged by an even older one, the Lady Roxton. Jerome sort of smiled. "That was something I'm not expecting." He turned his attention back to the woman, then inwardly winced at the sight of her glowering at him.

"Well? Is there a good reason for—"                                     

"Veronica came by."

There was a significant change in her expression. "Veronica? She's here?"

Jerome shook his head. "She already left, but she gave us this." He took the note from his breast pocket and handed it to her.

As she read, Marguerite cannot help but be surprised. "But this is… unacceptable," she told him. "I thought… is this… is this George's bidding?"

"Veronica didn't say." He replied. "She just said that there's been some change of plans." Jerome looked at her, a smile appearing on his face. "You'd be wearing that wedding gown after all."

"And it might as well have been red in color." She folded the note and hid it in the creases of her skirt. "Come on. We better bid the others a good night."

*

"Oh, John… you don't know how happy I am to have my son home at last."

John took his mother's hand and brought it to his lips. "It is very wonderful to see you again, Mother." He said as she squeezed her hand. "Of course I have to be home at a time like this, it is William's wedding, after all."

Lady Roxton smiled. "The wedding. I am looking forward to it. You're going to love Marguerite, John. She's a very beautiful, intelligent young woman. She will be a lovely wife for William."

William chuckled. "As you can see, John, Mother's more in love with Marguerite than I am."

"Hush, William. You know what I say is true." Lady Roxton glared at her youngest son. "It'd be good to have a daughter for once. Only God knows how much patience I have to draw from Him while raising two sons!"

"You make us sound so horrible, Mother." John told her. "And you need not worry about Marguerite and I. I'm loving her already as it is."

As though she heard that she was the topic of the conversation, Marguerite appeared beside William.

"Marguerite! There you are!" Lady Roxton said.

She smiled at the older woman. "Hello, Lady Roxton." She said sweetly. Then, she turned to William. "I'm sorry, love, but I have to go."

William looked alarmed. "What's wrong, Marguerite? Are you feeling ill?"

Marguerite shook her head. "I'm just… tired." She gave John one glance as she said this. "It's getting quite late, and I have to have my beauty rest if I were to appear beautiful tomorrow."

"Believe me, you don't have anything to worry about." William told her as he kissed her on the cheek. "Shall I escort you?"

Marguerite shook her head. "I'll just have Jerome take me home. This is your party, William. I want you to enjoy it." She walked to Lady Roxton and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mother." She said.

Lady Roxton placed her hand above Marguerite's. "Be careful, my dear."

Marguerite then looked at John, who has been silent since the moment she came. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Lord John Roxton." She said to him.

"No, Marguerite." John said, his voice rough. "The pleasure is all mine."

They locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity, before Jerome appeared and took her hand. "Ready to leave, Marguerite?"

"Yes." She told him, her eyes still holding John's gaze. "I believe I am."

To be continued…