A/N: Well, two weeks without an update is better than two months.
Chapter 11
The Le Haut family had broken even: gaining one and losing one in a single night. Camille was born, squashed, red faced and angry, just minutes before her father keeled over from a heart attack, leaving Régine an incredibly wealthy and not particularly grieving widow.
Odette threw herself into her work, for it seemed that anytime she paused to catch her breath, Régine would saunter in, raise a cruel eyebrow in Odette's general direction, and give her several additional tasks to complete before nightfall. Régine still payed her, although a mere pittance, which meant work at the Le Haut residence must be completed first. She found herself arriving at l'Opéra later and later each day, long after most of the dancers (and handsome choreographers) had returned home. She worked until late in the evening, often well after midnight, carefully locking up behind her and walking the two blocks back to her meager rooms behind the Le Haut mansion, only to rise before dawn and repeat.
It was after one such late night, just after the youngest Le Haut had celebrated her first anniversary, that she found herself cleaning the director's office when his door opened and she found herself face to face with him for the first time since he'd taken her breath away all those months ago. He stared, his face unreadable, as she bowed her head and tried to take her leave. As she walked past, he touched her wrist gently, and she froze, her heart hammering so loud she was certain the dancers could keep time to it if they needed to.
"Odette," he breathed her name in supplication, and she turned to face him. "Do you know I cannot get you out of my head?" Shocked by his boldness as much as the words themselves, she only stared, as he took both of her hands in his. "There have been so many women thrown at me these many months. Any one of them would make a fine wife, I suppose, but I find no joy in their company. You intrigue me, and I think, despite the difference in our circumstance, I mean to say, many people would question it, and certainly there would be talk, what with your debt, and your station, but, that is, Odette, please. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"