Chapter 6. Being A Lady

"Are you the same girl?"

Hidden behind a spectrum of color upon my face, a head full of curls and ribbons, and a silk gown that accentuated curves that Cecille's new corset provided me with, I looked like a stranger even to myself. Cecille had pinned back my bangs to open up my face, and I suddenly felt completely exposed to the world without the feeling of my bangs brushing my forehead and my hood moving with the wind.

For several days I had forgotten of my new appearance, but suddenly seeing this man stare at me with bewilderment, I wished to hide deep within my cape once more. Only it was now gathering dust within my bureau.

"I suppose I am," I replied softly when Cecille had walked away to flirt with a group of men that whistled upon her entrance. "My Uncle… he wanted me… to be more… presentable. More like a lady. Less of a girl."

"Is that what you want?" he questioned in just as soft of a tone. "To be a… lady?"

"I would not mind being a lady," I lowered my gaze, wanting to escape his eyes. "But… not like this. I feel like I'm a doll on display. I do not enjoy being so dressed up. But that is what my instructor has advised me to do. And I value her opinion immensely and respect her to a deep extent."

"There is no doubt you look gorgeous," he muttered, blushing suddenly.

"You are not the first to think so," I giggled. "No need to get so crimson, you know. I am still the same, I assure you."

"Don't go changing, to try and please me. You never let me down before. Mmmm…mmmm.." (1)

"Any more inspiration for me, monsieur?"

"Still in need of inspiration?"

"Always could use more," I shrugged, fighting the need to shriek with how I was able to pull of this coy behavior. "You still willing to help me?"

"You just call out my name
And you know wherever I am
I'll come runnin'
To see you again
Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you have to do is call
And I'll be there
You've got a friend." (2)

"I was hoping you might say that," I grinned at his song and the sound of his breathtaking voice. "You know… I was wondering… perhaps sometime we both might meet and discuss our writing. Surely us writers can find something to converse about over supper. Nothing fancy, mind you, I'm as poor as a church mouse, but just a night with you and me." I took a step back, realizing what I had just done. "Oh… no… you don't have to. I'm so sorry, monsieur. I got carried away. I shouldn't have done that. Ooooh… I am so dreadfully sorry. That was out of my place."

"I would not mind," he smiled, running a hand through his hair. "But I… I have not been… out… in awhile. I apologize ahead of time."

"Just a friendly gathering… friend." I put a hand to my forehead at my redundancy. "I should really go… before I sound more of a fool. I shouldn't have said that."

"Where might… I… meet… you?" he stumbled across the words, as if he were practicing them for the first time.

"I'll just go where Toulouse took me," I shrugged. "I was the one who devised this little meeting anyway. It is no trouble."

"No trouble at all?"

"Not at all. It is, in fact, quite a pleasure indeed."

"When should we schedule this…meeting… of ours?"

"How about in… a few weeks?"

"Weeks?"

"My instructor still has much to teach me before I become a polished lady. I would not want to go out being anything less than a lady, if you would not mind waiting, that is."

"I am sure it shall be worth the wait."

"You are too kind…" my voice faltered at his flattering words. No doubt used to make me feel better for my unruly behavior.

A pleasure?

The girl had most certainly undergone much change during the span of our last meeting. She looked ridiculous, it was true, but in a way that made me want to laugh and pat her on the head like a girl who had done something foolish. Behind the gorgeous mask she wore, she was still the young girl I knew her to be, and it was apparent in how wide her eyes went at my comments on her appearance.

She was not used to be so flattered.

I could easily fix that though…

And then she had gone and asked me out. Quite a forward move on her part, and if she had done such a thing to any other man, she might have been taken advantage of. But I had no such intentions with her.

She was far too young…

"I hope you don't mind. I hope you don't mind. That I put down in words. How wonderful life is while your in the world."

Where did she hear that song? Only a limited number of people knew those words… meant for only one person. It was no wonder I stopped in my tracks upon hearing her singing my song… Satine's song… her song.

"Did you see Isabel lately, Christian?" Toulouse entered to find me sitting before my typewriter, a sight he has grown quite accustomed to lately.

"Yes, I have."

"She is… she… looks… magnificent!"

"She looks the role of a girl playing an older woman."

"And won the lead role!" Toulouse laughed and stopped at the silence that answered him. "Do you not agree?"

"Isabel asked me to dinner in a few weeks."

"Why… that is splendid!" Toulouse clapped his hands. "You and her. What a pair! It shall be like old times again, Christian!"

"No… it will not be like old times."

"But…"

"Isabel is a child, Toulouse."

"A child! Christian, she is not that much younger than you."

"She is four years…"

"Satine was only three years older."

"Do not mention her to me!" I lowered my head, feeling the sadness possess me once more. "She is bringing it all back to me again, Toulouse."

"And what is bad with that?"

"Satine is dead."

"That is only one memory among many," Toulouse reminded. "You have many other memories together, Christian. Do not let that one sad one make you forget all of the others."

"I do not think I could love again…"

"You might try."

"She will never compare to Satine. No one can."

"You should not expect her to. It would not be fair for either of you."

"I am going to help her with her writing. That is all. She is nothing besides that. A friend, at the most."

"It seems she has helped you with your writing as well. I have not seen you writing in so long. Since you finished your story."

"It was our story, Toulouse. Satine's story."

"And you will never let me forget that."

"I could never impress him," I sighed at my reflection. "I am far too plain. A mess of bones, colorless skin, and too many freckles. I seemed more fit in a crib than a man's arms. Why should he think any different?"

"Because you look gorgeous," Cecille pulled back my bangs with a flower pin of crystals. "And I did not spend the past few hours doing nothing. Your hair looks lovely with all those curls. Your face does have color, thanks to a few dabs of blush here and there. Your figure begs to differ with that crib remark. Your white gown makes you look like a bride awaiting her husband. I do not think you could look any better."

"What if he thinks I am too fancy?"

"I have never heard a man complain of that before. I wouldn't worry about it."

"I do not look the same," I replied. "He might think I am trying rather hard to look pleasing."

"And you succeeded," Cecille rested her head on my shoulder and laughed. "Do not worry about it, mademoiselle. Men are flattered by these things. He shall feel especially high about himself to know a woman such as yourself is putting forward such effort for him."

"What is he thinks I am…"

"Don't worry about it." Cecille handed me a bag and pushed me out of my room. "You're gorgeous. You're ready. And you're going to have this fellow head over heels by the end of the night. Nothing else to think about really. There's the truth for you, honey."

"But…"

"Just believe me on this one," Cecille smiled and motioned for me to leave for my date.

1. Billy Joel "Just the way you are"

2. James Taylor "You've Got A Friend"