Ten days passed quickly and Eve found herself dressed in the black velvet gown she'd rescued from the floor, still occasionally finding cat hair (despite having washed the dress twice) and picking it off nonchalantly while waiting for her carriage. Thankfully, fashions for mourning wear had not changed much in the last few years and she could claim to still be in mourning to cover up the fact all of her dresses were now too far out of fashion to wear to a general's soiree. Behind her, Anastasia and Drizella played with dolls in front of the fire, watched over by the seamstress Eve worked for, Marie. Eve shifted uncomfortably in the window – it had been a long time since she'd been laced up quite so tightly and the corset she was wearing was uncomfortable. Outside, the balmy autumn sunshine faded to a low grey haze, plunging the streets into gloom. It was just seven o' clock, but Eve was already bored of waiting. Finally, she heard a rattle of carriage wheels and saw Dubois haphazardly guiding General Léglise's carriage to her door. She frowned when she saw the manner of his driving and was a little concerned for her safety. Nevertheless, Eve had decided to use this opportunity to seek out allies and hopefully to find work as a teacher or governess for some noble woman's children. She left the window, kissed the girls and left the house just as Dubois pulled up the horse. Dubois jumped down, a little too pleased to be back on firm ground for Eve's liking, and opened the door for her. Eve took a seat while Dubois settled himself back on top of the carriage. As the carriage groaned and rattled back into motion, Eve crossed herself and looked upwards, imploring God to make sure that, just for the next thirty minutes, the colt pulling the carriage would not take it into its head to canter off around the town.
Despite her predictions of doom, Eve arrived at the general's home in one piece and relatively unscathed by the journey. The relief on Dubois' face as he opened the door for her did little to comfort her however – he was her ride home tonight as well. She thanked Dubois, then looked up at the building General Léglise called home. The stately chateau rose above her, reminding her of her parents' home, although on a much grander scale. The general was clearly a very rich man. Unbidden, her late mother's advice on picking a suitable husband came back to her – "looks fade, but a rich man will make you a rich wife." Well, almost right, mother. And I'm sure the general is already married. However if he's not... Eve thought for a moment about the implications of marrying the general and pulled a face in disgust at the memory of his fat, red face with its mane of white hair. There are limits, she thought, however rich he is. She reached up for the door-knocker and rapped twice, raising a shout from within. A tired-looking servant opened the door for her and offered to take her cloak, which she slipped off without a word. Not bad, thought Eve, taking in the heavily decorated hall. Soldiers of the regiment in full uniform and a multitude of ladies in full evening dress surrounded her. General Léglise arrived moments later, together with a round, white-haired woman of a similar age to himself. Eve breathed a sigh of relief as her last suspicions about the general's invitation fled from her mind.
"Madam Labeau – so pleased you could make it my dear! Have you met my wife Winifred? Winnie, Madam Labeau was Pierre's wife – you remember Pierre don't you? Terribly sad business, simply ghastly, don't know how you've coped. Well, must dash!" The general left quickly, leaving the two women staring at each other for a moment, before smiling and shaking hands.
"Pleased to meet you Madam Labeau."
"My thanks for your husband's kind invitation, Madam Léglise."
"Winifred! Please – one feels so old when always referred to as Madam!"
"Then I must insist you call me Eve."
"I will my dear, now there are some people who have been dying to meet you..."
Eve spent the next two hours being shepherded around from one group of military wives to another, forced to tell and re-tell the "simply ghastly" story of how she and the girls had survived since Pierre's death. There were promises of help and a few offers of menial jobs like housekeeper, and cook, and in one instance governess, but Eve could not shake her underlying hatred of being pitied and took few of the offers seriously. She realised she would be the centre of gossip for some time to come – having gossiped with some of these women before on other, less formal, occasions with Pierre. The general seemed to have invited the entire regiment, together with various nobles and their wives who were in some way connected to the regiment – in one case, a middle-aged landowner boasting that the only reason he was there was that he owned the stable the general's horse had been sired in. At last, when the dancing in the ballroom started, Eve found herself alone. She looked through the women she had met – none of which needed a governess for their children. She hoped the evening would not be a complete waste of time as she had been forced to pay Marie for her time with the girls tonight. Sighing, a little unsettled at the sight of so many happy couples waltzing around the ballroom, she sought out a quiet balcony where she could be alone with her thoughts. The balcony was quiet and had a view over the river, something she had not thought to look at for any length of time for some months. She gazed at the rippling water, the music and laughter in the background fading as she poured her energies into just watching the river. She switched off to the outside world and felt herself relax to the calm surrounding her. Her mental wanderings had deafened her to the approach of the general however and his sudden tap on her shoulder brought her back to herself with a start. The general was escorting a lieutenant towards her. Oh no, she thought, I've been set-up...
"Madam Labeau! You are not dancing! May I introduce my nephew, Carl Léglise?"
"Charmed," replied Eve flatly. The lieutenant grinned and offered her his hand. She smiled politely and placed her hand in his, giving the general a foul look as she swept passed and out onto the dance floor. The general laughed in response – he had been searching for a wife for Carl for some time and he hoped that Eve would fit the bill.
Eve however had other plans. While the Léglise family had enough money to impress her, their behaviour tonight had not. Carl was hopelessly drunk, embarrassing Eve with his attempts to waltz with her. On top of this, his wandering left hand was causing her some discomfort, not to mention embarrassment. She made her excuses after their second dance and quickly slipped back out to another balcony. After checking that she had not been followed, she drew the curtains behind her, a signal most people in polite society would have read as "please go away!" Eve made an irritated growl in the back of her throat and pummelled her fists into an innocent planter. She had at least another hour before it would be polite to leave and knew she was going to find that time unbearable. She gave a disgusted shriek and sat heavily on the balustrade, glaring out at the countryside with her arms folded. Eve rarely pouted, but when she did she could out-pout even Drizella.
A cough from her left forced her to turn around and for the first time she noticed the man standing at the corner of the balcony. He must have been behind the curtain, thought Eve. The figure was silhouetted against the lights in the ballroom and she was aware that he had the advantage here of being able to read her expression while she could see nothing of his face. He walked towards her slowly, stopping briefly to pull one curtain back to illuminate the balcony. Eve stood and clasped her hands behind her back, determined to regain at least some of her dignity. She watched as the man circled around her and looked up at him as he stood in front of her.
"Good evening madam. I don't think we have been introduced. My name is Raoul Tremaine. I was a captain in this regiment until two years ago. From what I have heard this evening, you must be the inimitable Madam Labeau – is that in fact the case?"
"Yes Monsieur, you are correct. If you would just excuse me I am feeling unwell and simply must leave," lied Eve easily, trying to pass Raoul. He spun around and caught her left hand in his right.
"One dance? Before you leave? I promise to escort you straight to your carriage if you still wish to leave." Raoul smiled, his brown eyes lighting up as he looked imploringly into Eve's eyes.
"Well," she started, taken aback at his smile, "perhaps just the one dance..."
As the couple danced, Raoul asked Eve if all he heard that evening was true. She could confirm that she was a widow with two dependent daughters and that she was currently working for a seamstress, but laughed when she heard herself described as a beggar crying for scraps to feed her half-starved children.
"I'm sorry – that is too much! Who told you that?" Raoul looked as though he might tell her, but Eve waved him into silence. "No, don't tell me – I shall probably be forced into gossiping with her again at some point this evening." She smiled at Raoul as he pulled her back towards him for the next dance. It was their sixth since Eve had agreed to spend just one dance with him, though she was not complaining too loudly. Raoul seemed genuinely interested in their conversation and the evening had improved considerably since their meeting. Eve noticed Carl slumped in a far corner, relieved that she had found another escort for the rest of the night. As their dance ended, Eve put a hand up to stop Raoul starting another dance with her.
"I must leave – I left the girls with Marie and I cannot be late home."
"Of course – may I escort you to your carriage?"
"Please do," answered Eve, shamelessly flirting as she knew she would probably never see Raoul again. He walked her out of the house and into the mews to the side of the building. Dubois saw them and quickly mounted the carriage.
"My thanks for a very pleasant evening monsieur."
"May I see you again, Eve?" She paused before replying.
"I don't see why not. Did you hear the rumour about where I live?" She laughed softly, enjoying Raoul's company.
"The poor quarter, wasn't it?" He laughed and put both hands on her waist. As he drew her closer, Eve's expression turned to one of mild alarm. Raoul stopped laughing and his face turned serious. "I have had a wonderful evening madam. It has been some time since I felt this happy – please may I kiss you goodnight?" Raoul stroked her face gently and looked into her eyes. Eve hesitated and Raoul took her silence as acquiescence, bending over slightly and pecking her lightly on the lips. He grinned broadly, turned and left without a word. Eve's stony expression did not change as she climbed into the carriage, nor while she was conveyed home. She did not flinch while thanking Marie and refused to comment when Anastasia asked if she had enjoyed her evening. Marie left soon after Eve's arrival, helping her to settle in the girls before she left. Alone in her bedroom, Eve looked up through the window to the moon. Eve nodded a greeting to Luna, and smiled.