AN: Hopefully I will post the next chapter tomorrowso you all are not left in the dark as to what might happen. Much thanks to littlelottie for pointing out my lack of French. Unfortunately, I am not fluent in French. Was thinking of you, Modesty, while writing this chapter. Had to have some reference to POTO in this chapter. Perhaps I can incorporate little bits of it here and there, and have more setting around the opera… ; )Please keep reviewing everyone! It is so awesome knowing people out there are reading and enjoying this. You guys keep me going.
Chapter 18. The Beginning Of A Conspiracy
Gregory came for me just as the sun was setting. Clad in a silken dress and a head of ringlets, I was unrecognizable to myself. Fear pumped through my body like blood as Gregory stared at me.
Did he know who I was?
"Isn't dressing up fun?" Gregory brought my hand to his lips cordially. "I am sure all of the women and men of tonight shall find you a sight to compare to."
"Let us just hope that the mask on my face isn't smudged away during the evening," I joked, referring to the tons of powder and such Cecille had applied to my face. "Not a freckle in sight, you know."
"I rather enjoy your freckles, mon amour." Gregory remarked, locking arms with me, and proceeding on in a rather orderly fashion I had seen several noble couples doing on a daily basis. Will we end up like them? Will I allow such a matter to occur? "And, someday, I plan to kiss every single one of them."
"Not very gentlemanly of you to say," I commented back, blushing as a man held the door for a carriage. "Good evening, Monsieur."
"Good day to you, Mademoiselle." He tipped his hat, the stairs of entering the carriage exposed.
Holding Gregory's hand, I stepped forward. Upon moving my second leg upon the threshold, I lost balance and my foot hit the ground once more. My action was preceded by a large ripping sound and, looking down, my dress had torn to reveal my ankle.
"It is nothing," Gregory reassured, helping me in with more care this time. When the door had closed and the driver started towards the opera, he began to laugh. "I love you so much, Isabel. You make even nights such as this, when I must become like a suit of armor-polished and stiff- seem enchanting and humorous. Life does not seem so dreadful and meaningless when I am with you, ma belle."
"I am glad one of us can see the humor in the situation," I replied weakly. "I can only imagine the expression on my Uncle's face when I return with this gown completely ruined. I doubt this fall shall be the last of tonight."
"No matter how many times you may fall, mon amour." Gregory grabbed my hands and leaned forward. "I will always be there to catch you."
"It would be dreadfully wrong if we were to arrive with my lips printed across your face," I giggled. "I shall have to remember to kiss you later for such flattering words."
"What a sight it might be if we were to arrive as so!" Gregory grinned, quite amused with the idea. "I can just imagine the look upon dear Edmund's face!"
"Edmund?" I looked up. "He shall be there?"
"My cousin is quite drawn towards the opera," Gregory told me. "He comes quite frequently. My family is a very musical family, Isabel. We all are completely infatuated with music. You will soon grow to learn that, if you have not already."
"Nothing wrong with a little music," I shrugged helplessly, offering him a weak smile.
"There is about ten minutes before we arrive," Gregory said before kissing me softly. "I think we can look decent by the time the driver opens our doors."
I responded by deepening the kiss.
That was the fastest ten minutes of my life.
While Christian and Cecille basked in misery together and Isabel and Gregory kissed intimately behind the curtains of a private opera box, Edmund Ambler met with Harold Ziddler.
Concealed behind curtains and the shadows of Ziddler's box, opposite of Gregory's, both men could easily observe the moving shadows as the curtain swayed back and forth.
A frown was plastered upon Edmund Ambler, although the shadows of his topcoat hid the anger that was evoked within his eyes. He was in every aspect almost identical to Gregory, except his face lacked the blithe and altruistic behavior of his cousin's. Turning his sharp gaze away from his cousin, he looked at Ziddler and spoke in a low voice.
"I do not like the idea of Gregory with a commoner, Ziddler." He remarked. "I do not care if she is your niece. She has no money. Nothing to offer my cousin. She is a charming creature, but moths are easily ignited when playing within the illumination of fire. She will be consumed in no time by society."
"He loves her, Edmund." Ziddler said.
"And Cecille?" he inquired. "Do not think I have forgotten of her. She is my fiancé after all. When shall she be returning to me."
"Cecille is still… working for Isabel."
"I do not like the idea of Cecille being lose, Ziddler." He growled. "I do not like other men toying with what is rightfully mine and mine alone. I suggest you find yourself a new whore, otherwise the funds for the Moulin Rouge will be taken away and you and your niece shall have to go far away to find shelter. For I doubt anyone within Paris would take in a man of a whorehouse and his penniless niece, no matter how charming she may be."
"What do you want me to do, Edmund?"
"I want this little love of my cousin's to go away," he wrinkled his nose, pulling out a handkerchief. "Do away with her by whatever means necessary. She is the root of all my problems nonetheless. She is corrupting my cousin and she keeps my fiancé away from me. When Isabel is gone, I shall require you to send my cousin and Cecille back to me. To my home. Where they both should be in the first place."
"And the Moulin Rouge?"
"You shall have your money," Edmund pulled out a stack of francs tied together with a black ribbon. "But I expect haste from you, Ziddler. No delay. No intermissions. This is not one of your amateur plays that you can easily improvise with."
"I understand completely," Ziddler nodded before leaving Edmund alone in the box to glare at his cousin across the opera.
"An enchanting creature," the late Duchess told her son. "Quite amiable, and nothing like those boisterous heathens most young girls are at that age. She is very sweet, Gregory."
"And you cousin?" Gregory wondered. "How did you find Isabel?"
"I do not approve of you calling her that."
"It is her name."
"And I do not approve of her calling you by Gregory."
"It is my name."
"You are a Duke. Why allow anyone to address you as less?"
"I will not have the love of my life call me by anything but my God-given name. For once we marry, we shall be one and the same."
"She is garbage."
"Edmund!" the Duchess exclaimed.
"Aunt, it is true. Beggars on the street own more than she."
"I love her."
"What has she to offer you? Her love? Does she even love you? As far as you know, she could be with other men."
"I trust Isabel."
"Love blinds you."
"How would you know?" Gregory challenged.
"What is between me and Cecille needs not to be touched."
"The same applies to Isabel and myself."
"Talk son sense into your son."
"I find Isabel to be perfect for my son, Edmund. Never has he been happier. Surely you have noticed the change."
"She will be his end," Edmund grumbled.
Unless Ziddler keeps his word…
"I can feel the magic floating in the air
Being with you gets me that way
I watch the sunlight dance across your face and I've
Never been this swept away
All my thoughts seem to settle on the breeze
When I'm lying wrapped up in your arms
The whole world just fades away
The only thing I hear
Is the beating of your heart," (1)
I sang to myself as Gregory rode away in his carriage.
Nothing could have prepared me for tonight. My day with Gregory had begun with him singing a promise and consoling me. Hearing his heart pound as I cried upon his chest, I had no doubt of his love. Gregory would provide me with all the love a man could possibly offer.
The ride there I was greeted with his reassuring words filled with honesty and promise. So much promise. He offered me the world, and yet I would resist. But his persistence. His complete devotion. It drew me to him the more. I love him for loving me. I love the idea of him.I love him for accepting me as I am and not leaving me within the shadows, guessing his true intentions. I knew his intentions. I knew he wished to marry me and would spend his life with me, probably with even more love and devotion than he already expressed to me.
He waited only for my answer…
Even now I could not guess why he might love me. He gives no explanation. I fascinated him. Something about me drew him towards who I was. What was it? Why could Christian not see it?
But I cannot wait for Christian forever. I grow tired of him not letting go. I cannot compare to Satine. I am plain as can be. I am no Goddess. No special talent. Yet Gregory accepts me. Why should I give up something so great for an opportunity to be with someone, especially when it is not even guaranteed that it shall last?
I know that if I agree to Gregory's proposal, he shall love me past death. Would Christian do the same? Did he even love me now?
I do not wish to risk it…
…though I still have not agreed to marry Gregory.
"Isabel," Ziddler approached me as I contemplated my future actions.
Would I proceed on loving Christian as he has loved Satine, or do I let him go and give into Gregory's love?
"My dear child," he set a hand upon my shoulder, and I closed my eyes, knowing nothing good would come from my Uncle's words. "There is much we need to discuss."
Turning from his touch, I ignored his repetition of my name. How could Ziddler take the splendor of the night and fill the air with such tension and drear.
"Isabel!" Ziddler seized me, turning me to face him. Upon seeing my eyes blaze at him with an internal fire, I saw his gaze retreat. "My child, I did not mean to disturb you. It is only that the Duke Ambler will be on business for the next week, and will be unable to visit."
"Business? Gregory told me of no engagements."
"It was immediate," Ziddler explained. "Edmund told me of the matter while you and the Duke were enjoying the opera. Edmund is probably informing Gregory of this business as we speak."
"Did you enjoy the opera, Uncle?"
"The opera? Oh yes, the opera. It was fantastic. Stupendous. A true capture of the Bohemian spirit!"
"Really?" I concealed my laughter. "Did you enjoy the star of the performance?"
"La Carlotta is a very talented woman."
"She was not cast tonight."
"Why… of course she wasn't."
"A new girl took her role. Have you heard of her?"
"Of course."
"She is quite young. A beautiful girl. Probably no older than myself, I suppose. Do you remember her name, Uncle?"
"Her name?" I grew amused at his improvising. "It was… I believe… well… I think it to be Madame Felicity?"
"Felicity?" I laughed. "What an odd name, when it was Christine."
"Oh yes, Christine." Ziddler joined in. "How could I forget?"
"Are you taking me home?"
"I have other… engagements… tonight." He handed me some money. "Just hail a cab, and I shall see you tomorrow."
"How odd it shall be for me to ride a carraige alone, Uncle. Especially when I have never been to the opera house before, and I know not the way back to the Moulin Rouge."
"You are a smart girl, Isabel." Ziddler patted my shoulder with a grin. "I am sure you can find your way back home."
But did I want to go home?
"Goodnight, Uncle."
He was already gone.
"Where to, Mademoiselle?"
"Take me to where Duke Ambler resides."
There was much to be said before this night was through…
1. Faith Hill "Breathe"