Disclaimer: "I do not own the Count of Monte Cristo, any of the characters, or any part of that franchise. Alexandre Dumas is the one who wrote the story, and all credit for that should be his. Any quotes from the 2002 movie version of this book belong to the producers, editors, writers, and so forth. I only own Hadlee, and any original content I make her do or say."

Chapter 7

Hadlee had all the flower arrangements ready to go to the Mondego residence. And though he'd been disappointed, Albert had understood when she wrote him a letter, informing him that she didn't think she'd be able to attend his party this year. Her excuse was that she was catching a rather contagious cold, and did not want to infect him on his big day.

He only wrote her back to ensure that his own father and mother weren't the reason she wasn't attending. But he knows he should've known better. Her dislike of his parents had never caused her to not show up before, and it wouldn't be the reason now.

It was only a couple of days until the party, and Hadlee was sending the flowers to them now, opting for hiring some carriages to do it for her, so she wouldn't have to deliver them herself. She needed to still keep up the pretense that she was so sick, she couldn't even leave the house to send the flowers in her own cart.

On that same day, a package was delivered to her with a letter pinned on top. And upon seeing the fancy scrawling of the Count of Monte Cristo, Hadlee had half a mind to throw it away without even looking at it.

Intrigue got the best of her, and so she tore open the letter and began to read.

"Dear Mademoiselle,

Albert took the liberty of informing me that you no longer plan on being in attendance at his party. The potential reasons he lists for this are as follows. One, that his parents made a sort of threat that convinced you to stay away. Two, that you feel you have worn out any dress that would be suitable for the evening. Or three, that you truly are as ill as you claim to be.

If the first is the reason you will not attend, please inform me. I have a great many connections and servants that would eagerly provide you with protection whilst in the midst of those you consider enemies. And if the last of those reasons is it, than I do wish you feel better. It will be a shame if an illness is able to keep such a bright spirit away from a day meant for such happiness.

If the second reason is the one that keeps you away, then I pray you find this gift as a suitable means for marking that particular reason null and void.

Lastly… if the fourth reason I'm about to mention is the reason you choose to stay away, then I bid you please accept my humblest apologies. For I fear that the one reason Albert did not come upon, may indeed be the one that has caused you to reconsider attending an event that you have never missed in your life otherwise.

I know our last meeting did not end on welcome and happy terms. And if I am the reason that you do not want to attend Albert's party, I beg you reconsider. Write back to tell me I am correct, and I will arrange new plans for myself that day. If you cannot stand to see me there, then I shall make myself scarce. There will be other days on which I can meet with Albert's parents.

I am sorry for causing you to doubt my intentions towards your nephew. I can only promise that I have never, nor will I ever, have any intention of harming one whom you care for so deeply. And as for your reference to my thinking of you as a fool, nothing could be farther from the truth. You are correct, in thinking that I made a show of talking about the shipment I am expecting to arrive within the next week or so now. That was intentional, but nothing in my intentions will ever be meant to cause harm to Albert. I have very different plans in mind, for different individuals who have indeed wronged me. And if you can find it in your heart to grant me an audience, I will gladly take the time to explain it all to you.

Whatever your reason for not wanting to attend Albert's party, please write back to let me know. If you are ill, I wish you come back to health quickly. If you are in danger, I will protect you. If it is the dress, then please know neither Albert nor myself care how you arrive, so long as you are there.

And if I am the reason, then please tell me to stay away. The last thing I will ever want to do, is hurt you by merely standing in the same room.

Sincerely,
Monte Cristo"

Hadlee stares at the letter for a moment, reading it over a couple more times. Then she wipes at a tear that falls from her eye. Sighing, she mutters, "It's not as though he said he loved me."

But he did express his deepest desire was to never hurt her, and only to protect her. And she cannot remember anyone else in her life; that had ever expressed that desire so strongly to her. She had friends who would fight for her and love her unconditionally. But… none of them had ever made her feel like this.

Shaking her head at herself, she then looks to the package. Tearing it open, her mouth drops open as she stares at the material inside. Hand coming up to cover her mouth, she wonders briefly how he would even know her size.

Then she remembers the way his eyes never seemed to stray from her, and a blush rushes to her skin before she puts the lid back on the box. Now she has a decision to make. And Lord, she hopes it's the right one.

When Bertuccio brought Monte Cristo the letter that had been written by Hadlee, he quickly went into his study to read it alone. And as he read, he couldn't prevent a smile coming to his face.

"Dear Monsieur,

I have yet to pass on all of my perceptive skills to Albert, so he easily believed I was ill when I told him so, even if he did start off with these other concerns you mentioned. But… you are correct. You were the reason I did not wish to attend, and were the reason I came up with an excuse to avoid my nephew's celebration.

I feel a certain need at this point to assure you that Albert worries needlessly about any threat his father can make. There is nothing left that that man can take from me. As for the illness… I am not. And as for the dress... you should not have troubled yourself. But thank you.

As for my true reason being that I did not want to see you… then if you are willing to explain why you put on a show for my nephew, then perhaps we can remain friends. And if you truly mean him no harm, then I am glad, and will apologize in due course for my misjudgment.

I will be coming to the party. Whether I wear this dress you've gifted to me, or if I will simply return it at a later date has yet to be determined. But I will be coming, and you've no need to make yourself scarce. Not only will that upset Albert on his birthday, but as you've promised to explain yourself, I see much less need to be so wary of you.

Sincerely,
Hadlee Mondego"

Sighing as he lays the letter down on his desk, he turns when he hears a knock on his door, followed by Jacopo entering. Nodding to the Count, he says, "Everything is in place on Luigi's end. How are things looking here?"

Cristo holds up the letter with a smile, "I think I'm being forgiven. Our conversation pending, of course. But she will be attending the party again, and I've no need to stay away." Jacopo smiles happily, and then asks, "And the dress?"

Cristo shrugs, but smiles as he glances back at the paper. "To be determined, my friend. Though it will be a shame if she doesn't. No other woman will ever be able to do the fabric justice, if she chooses to never wear it."

As Hadlee walks inside, Albert waves to her from the bottom of the staircase. Monte Cristo had apparently walked in only a few minutes before her, and was already being introduced to Fernand and Mercedes.

As Mercedes stares at the Count with what Hadlee knows to be her 'dainty and elegant' expression, Hadlee can't stop her smile from slipping a bit. Mercedes, even married to Fernand, was still one of the most beautiful women in the country. And though she rarely did it, if there was a man she wanted in her bed nowadays, she always won him over rather easily. Be it a count, a duke, or any other nobleman in the country.

Approaching them, Hadlee hears Mercedes say, "You would have to be a mother to truly appreciate what you have done for my son and me, Count. Monsieur, I'm certain I shall never forget you."

That part was probably the piece that was supposed to ensure Monte Cristo had taken the bait and was close to being reeled in. But Hadlee pauses briefly in surprise, and then can't help feeling a bit smug at Mercedes' shocked expression, when Cristo simply says, "Please Madame, it was nothing. I am sure that within a month you will not ever remember my name. Hmm?"

Mercedes tries to give off a carefree smile, but then says, "My, what lovely music. I do believe it's the waltz about to start. Could I trouble you for…"

But before she can finish, Albert shouts, "Hadee! Don't stand so far away. Please, come!"

Blushing as the Count turns swiftly, his eyes finding her and a smile gracing his lips, she moves forward to join the rest. And now, Mercedes' shocked eyes are on the dress she's wearing.

The deep ruby colored fabric was, as Hadlee had suspected, tailored to fit her exact size. The bodice was lower cut than maybe it should've been for it to be an entirely formal dress. But it was also still high enough that no one would comment. The bodice fit her to a tee, and black trimming was trailed on the sides and seams of the dress. From her waist down, though it did poof out a tad, it was still not as widely spread as other women's dresses.

She was wearing a pair of black heels that had come with the dress as well. Again, her exact size. Black gloves adorned her hands and forearms, and her golden hair was pulled to one side and braided loosely to hang over her shoulder. She'd even taken the time to put shimmering pins in her hair. Something she normally never would've worn.

No, she did not wear all of this to please the Count of Monte Cristo. Nope. Not in the slightest.

Upon getting to them, Hadlee bows for a moment to the Count, and then turns to Albert. Smiling up at him, she says, "Happy Birthday." "It is indeed! I'm so glad you're feeling better and could make it!"

Clearing her throat, trying not to look over at the grinning Count beside her, Hadlee says, "Yes, it was quite a miraculous recovery."

Then she turns her eyes to Fernand. Smile slipping, she simply says, "Brother." He offers her a scowl before commenting, "Sister." Mercedes glances between them, and then hurriedly says, "My, Hadlee. That is a beautiful dress. Wherever did you get it? I must meet the tailor and have one designed for myself."

Hadlee nods her appreciation, though she still looks at Mercedes coldly before replying, "I'm afraid the name slips my mind at the moment. Perhaps I will remember it later."

And then, to Mercedes' shock and Hadlee's blushing chagrin, Cristo comments, "Perhaps its just as well. You seem to do the dress justice that others would not be capable of." He extends his hand to her, which is again, a shock to Mercedes, whom he had not offered his hand to. Hadlee places hers in his, willing herself not to look away as his eyes never leave hers while lifting her hand to his lips.

Still not breaking eye contact, or releasing her hand, Cristo asks, "May I steal your aunt for a moment, Albert? For the waltz?" "Oh, absolutely!"

Turning to lead the way, Monte Cristo then grins when, once they're out of earshot, Hadlee declares, "I do not like to dance." "Perhaps you have simply not danced with the right partner yet." "And you think you will be?"

As he turns to face her on the floor, taking her other hand in his so they can begin the dance, he says boldly, "It is my intention to be."

He grins at the widening of her eyes, and as they begin to sway to the music, he steps closer to her and asks, "Are you alright, Miss Mondego?" Shaking herself back to the present, she sighs and asks, "Who even are you?"

When he tilts his head curiously, she explains, "No one in their right mind would want to be my partner. Not with how my social standing is now. So who are you; that it apparently doesn't matter in the slightest?" Cristo nods to that, and steps closer still and says, "One who knows how much you've lost. One who understands that, while no one else knows that you loved it so dearly, that it was you who suffered most when it was taken, regardless of what anyone else thinks."

She freezes for a moment. In fright or shock, she's not sure. And then she asks breathlessly, "How?" The hand he's holding he squeezes gently, and then says, "I assure you, all will be explained later. When there are not so many people to listen in on our conversation?"

Hadlee nods to that, and then as Cristo's other hand gently finds her waist, he leans in closer and whispers, "I also promise you, that while it is within my power, you will never be made to feel that way again. Everything you could ever want, I will work to lay at your feet." "Why?!"

He simply glances around before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Then he says, "Be patient with me."

Before she can ask any more questions, the servant from downstairs announces, "Monsieur and Madame Villefort."

Eyes hardening, Hadlee glances down to see them entering the building. And though Valentina waves and smiles happily up at them, Villefort himself meets Hadlee's gaze for only a second, before swiftly looking away and ushering his wife to hurry up the stairs.

Glaring at the back of his head, Hadlee asks, "What are they doing here?" "I requested them." Her head snaps back to him so fast, Cristo lifts a hand to gently touch the side of her head, as though to save her from whiplash. And before she can ask him anything, he says gently, "Patience. I will explain everything, I assure you."

Hadlee lets her eyes flit between his for a moment. Then they widen as she says, "You know I hate him." Cristo doesn't deny that, nor does he deny it when she adds, "And you know why I hate my brother and Danglars."

For a moment all is silent. Then, because he knows he has to give her something, he leans closer and concedes, "And I know you have very strong prejudices against the Countess Mondego."

Hadlee stares at him a moment longer, and then takes a breath before saying, "You will explain everything to me. Everything." Cristo nods, "Without hesitation, and with as much haste as I can manage. But, just for the remainder of this evening, please be patient with me."

When she finally nods, the Count sighs in relief. Kissing her forehead gently again, he then says, "Now, you'll have to excuse me. I have another 'performance' to give. And then I shall return to you."

She can't help glaring at Villefort, even as Cristo pulls him aside to speak. But after they're out of sight, Hadlee jumps when Mercedes says from beside her, "The Count seems quite taken with you. What did you do to find yourself in his good graces?"

Mercedes shrinks back from the withering look Hadlee gives her, but then she answers honestly, "I have no idea." Looking out to where the Count had been, Mercedes then glances at Hadlee and asks in what was supposed to be a nonchalant voice, "Is it… serious? The two of you?"

Hadlee begins counting backward from one-hundred again, and then says, "I don't know that either." "So, if I were to…" Spinning swiftly so she can face Mercedes, she hisses out, "I don't care what you do. Try and seduce him, I don't care."

But even as she walks away, Hadlee knows it's not true. She does care. Far more than she should.

Prior to the toast being given, Hadlee found her brother and Villefort on the balcony of his estate. Discussing yet another plot together. They hadn't met socially in years, not since the day they'd made their first arrangement. And yet, here they were, sixteen years later, and already plotting to do something just as wicked as they had done before.

Well… okay, it's not as wicked as what they'd done to Edmond. But… it was still bad. And they were going to pull Danglars into it as well. Again!

Hadlee didn't think she could hate them more than she already did. But oh, how very wrong she'd been to think that.

Returning to the party, she weaved her way through the crowd, looking for Monte Cristo so she could warn him that, whatever shipment he was expecting, it was going to be hijacked. But when she found him, he was already seated at the table.

The seat beside him remained vacant, and Hadlee briefly glanced around to see if anyone else was going to take it. But that's when one of the servants came up to her, saying, "Mademoiselle, we've been looking for you. Your seat has been moved and reserved. Please, right this way."

The Count's only response when she arrives is to grin, because he'd obviously arranged to have her next to him. And for a moment, as those piercing eyes of his stare back into hers, she forgets for a moment she has something important to tell him. In fact, for a moment, she forgets to breathe.

His hand on hers shakes her back to her senses. Then she says, "I have something very important to tell you. It…" But Mercedes clinks her glass at that moment, and upon realizing that Fernand had not yet returned, Hadlee finds herself hating the man all the more. He was plotting to steal Monte Cristo's fortune, and in so doing, he could not even be bothered to give the toast on his son's birthday.

She didn't realize her hand had clenched into a fist, until Cristo took it between both of his, gently attempting to sooth her anger. And then, to her and Mercedes' surprise, he rises from his seat and introduces himself as the giver of the toast.

And it is a beautiful thing. He talks of Albert's bravery in the catacombs. How as they'd threatened to cut off his finger and send it as evidence that he was kidnapped, Albert's reply had simply been 'Do your worst'.

As Maximillian slaps Albert's shoulder, proud of his friend's bravery, Cristo continues. "Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man, is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm, and shout as you did in Rome, 'Do your worst, for I will do mine.' Then the fates will know you as we know you. As Albert Mondego, the man."

And as he lifts his glass, concluding his toast, uproarious applause meets Albert. Hadlee glances down the table, seeing the tremendous smile on his face. Nothing his father, Fernand, had ever done had caused Albert quite this much pride and joy.

Cristo winks at Albert before returning to his seat. And as Hadlee turns back to face him, he smiles when she says, "There is nothing I can do or say in this moment to thank you properly for what you've done."

Turning his attention to her hand again, Cristo takes it in his and says, "You've forgotten your brother for a moment. That is enough thanks for me." Hadlee doesn't understand why he thinks that, but she is glad he brought it up. Because it reminds her that she has something important to tell him. Squeezing his hand in hers, she says, "I have something important to tell you." "So you said moments ago. I wonder if, perhaps, you could indulge me by waiting an hour more. I feel certain that, once I have revealed all of my intentions to you, your worries will cease to exist."

Hadlee stares at him for a moment, and then raises an eyebrow, "I find that hard to believe." "Trust me." "Trust is earned, Cristo." Grinning at her, he nods, "Then let me earn it." He lifts her hand to his lips again, lingering there for a moment. A flash of desire seems to cover his already intense eyes for a moment, and Hadlee finds it hard to breathe again.

She decides she seriously needs to get a grip. The man was about to explain himself to her, and she needed to be ready to be pissed if she didn't like any part of it. Not ready to simply fall into his bed if he invited her there. No matter how warm or wonderful a place that might end up being, or…

No, stop it. Story first. Passion, if he even wanted that, would come later.

Chapter 7! Woohoo!