Chapter 8: The Outing

The trip was silent allowing Stephanie to mull over her situation.

She was in the past-- in Erik's World where certain expectations were demanded on the sexes. She had found the study of the 19th century exciting to learn, but living in it was a blessing and a curse. Her way of life would be considered improper and speaking her mind would be a no-no in the circles of society. She was in a time where the fight for women's rights was taking flight. Never mind the goodwill station she found herself in or the slow-pacing life where everything was taken for granted. It was almost like stepping into a foreign country. It was an all-new experience for her.

Then she thought what was left behind in her World. Would time simply stop as it did for Erik? Or was it going on? If so, what about Harper? Veronica wasn't an animal-lover and she wouldn't know what to do to take care of him. And there was her job and Dan.

Dan… what if he comes back and I'm not there? No. He would think it's over when it's not! Her mind cried. Of the wrong times to end up here. Is this another delightful wicked game of Fate's? What have I done to deserve this mockery?

She could not accept the inopportunity of it all. Yes, she told herself, she was very happy to see Erik again but she would have much preferred it when Dan made his mind up and returned to her. Maybe by then she would have a ring to show Erik and she wouldn't feel half as bad for lying.

Thou Fate hath scorn me, she thought bitterly.

Meanwhile, Etienne was preoccupied with his own thoughts. Not of the usual rehearsals and upcoming opening night that would normally plague his mind; instead, he was consumed with the woman sitting across from him. Who was this Stephanie Larson? Why is she here? These questions bothered him tremendously, as he stared at her from the corner of his scrutinizing eye.

She was different, quite so than what Etienne was accustomed in dealing with. She was no Jeanette LeBlanc or any of those simpering beauties. She was something else, a something he wasn't sure if he should admire or detest. He wasn't sure if her visit should be counted as a blessing or an omen. His parents may be elated to see her, but he was torn with his emotions. Who was she? What was she doing here?

From the moment she awoken with her blatant remarks, Etienne found her to be highly opinionated to his comfort and a thorn in his side as she easily dismissed him like he was any other man. Yet, somehow he was caught up with escorting her to the dressmakers' shop for clothes. How in the world that happened, Etienne could suppose it was a punishment for his lustful sins.

Despite her misgiving character, Etienne would admit her looks were agreeable. Her curls were wavy and had a life to them. He wondered if they were soft as silk and wanted to reach out and touch a strand to see if it was true. The impulse was held back and he continued to watch her attentively.

Her eyes… yes her eyes. Two precious gems with spark of fire in them as she spoke. Etienne never met a person who had two different colors so that alone was intriguing. He knew better than to ask how it came to be or if she was born with it because of his father. But he had a good feeling it was organic. Can that be why I see her so differently than the rest? Is it because of her eyes? Etienne would be lying if he claimed that wasn't a possibility. There was so much emotions warring in them, he noticed, one minute they were light and the next both were gravely dark. What could be going on in her head?

Her eyelashes flickered towards him and Etienne quickly focused his attention to his nails. Why couldn't he stop thinking of her? He was doing fine until they both were in the carriage. So suddenly why now was he burdened with such thoughts?

This is going to be a long day, he thought.

xxXXxx

The hansom stopped abruptly, the driver calling out they were there. Stephanie almost flew out of her seat, grabbing the sides to keep in her place. Etienne keenly watched with some amusement at her actions. She lowered her hands back into her lap, muttering, "Caught me by surprise."

"Haven't you ever ridden in an hansom before?" His question was the first directed attempt of conversation between them and his deep voice startled her.

"No," she answered. "We have cars and they stop nice and smoothly. If you're paying attention."

"Ah, then we can say M. Ronin wasn't paying attention," Etienne said, a slight smirk curving at the end of his lips. "Come along Mlle Larson."

He hopped off the step and didn't bother in helping her out. Stephanie struggled a bit with the ruffle of her skirt and heels, but managed to exit without falling or making a fool of herself. She glared at Etienne's back but kept her mouth shut. Well, for a second.

"So where exactly are you taking me?" she asked, moving quickly to stand in front of him.

He sighed. "Madam Laverne is mother's trusted seamstress and has constructed me to take you to her. She will take the necessary measurements and make all that you are required in wearing. This way mademoiselle."

Etienne strode ahead to the store with Stephanie following closely behind. She inwardly gulped at the sight of the bountiful ribbons, fabrics, and laces. There were some lovely shades and some… that shouldn't be for sale. She found a few corsets and shuddered. Looking at Etienne, she announced, "There is no way your mother or anyone else is going to make me wear those corsets. So if they ask I'm saying no and don't push it."

He frowned. "Why ever not? Don't you need them for… for… you know?"

Stephanie chuckled at his flustered statement. "I have a bra that will last me I think and if not I won't turn to that caged garment."

Etienne could feel his face growing red by her nonchalance of the female undergarments and cleared his throat, hoping that Madam Laverne or one of her assistants would hear.

On cue, the dapper gray-haired woman appeared. "Ah, M. Destler! What a pleasure to see you! Pray, how is your mother?"

"Likewise and she is fine Madam," he replied with a gracious nod of his dark head.

"To what do I owe a visit? Is Mme Destler in need of a new wardrobe?"

"No Madam. We have a guest who needs a fresh set of attire," Etienne explained, nodding towards Stephanie.

Madam Laverne's questing gray eyes settled on her. A crease of her high forehead done by a thick brow took in all of Stephanie, her tongue sweeping out across her lips. "You know the Destler's?"

Stephanie answered before Etienne could, "Yes ma'am. My father used to be an old pupil of the senior M. Destler. They used to correspond with one another when I was a child, but their acquaintance was sadly cut as distance and time often does. My father past a year ago and I was able to get into contact with M. Destler to tell him of my father's death. He invited me to stay for a while, but I'm afraid on my journey I came upon highwaymen and was robbed of all of my belongings. No worries though. I made it out in one piece."

"How terrible! I'm sorry for your loss Mlle—"

"Larson," she said.

"—Larson. Don't worry. My associates and I will take care of everything. Highwaymen… poor child," the benevolent Madam Laverne murmured to herself as she went into the back of the shop.

Etienne cocked his head at Stephanie, frustration written in his features. "Why did you do that?"

"It worked didn't it?" she questioned with a wave of her hand.

"Yes but do you know what you just done?" he hissed, lowering the tone of his voice. "Now she will tell anyone who is willing to listen about you. Madam Laverne maybe mother's seamstress but she has a nose for gossip."

"It's a cover for now. Did you expect me to tell the truth?" she shot back.

"No! I was going to provide a less suspicious story if you hadn't interrupted me!" Etienne snapped. "You put in a connection, one of which will be difficult to prove if someone were to investigate. At least with mine, you would have been an unfortunate American lost in the country. No connection and no angle to reconnoiter."

"Oh so make me a hapless victim? Yeah that is so believable!" Stephanie retorted.

"It's partial truth. You are lost in a way," Etienne defended his excuse.

Before she could add a rejoinder, Madam Laverne and a couple bug-eyed and quivering girls returned.

Looking back and forth between them, Madam Laverne regarded Etienne with a raised brow while hustling Stephanie to the end. "My dear, Mlles Leboeuf and Aimee will take your measurements. I have some other business to attend to."

She left Stephanie to the frightened fillies; one redhead stuttering between her teeth asked her to remove her dress. Stephanie could hardly understand a word she was saying, but thankfully knew what must be done. Stripping down until she was left in the chemise, she ignored the whispers as they proceeded to measure her waist, girth, shoulders, and bust. All the while, one might sneak a peek to her face, gawking at the mismatched eyes.

For years Stephanie had gotten used to the stares and name-callings, but ever since Dan and she dated, she never had to go through that ridicule again. Feeling those beady little stares was enough to cause the old self-consciousness and fears to resurface. The past taunts echoed in her head—freak, monster, and dog-face. She wanted it to stop but the voices grew louder, drowning out her pleas.

Her whole body became taut, her fists clenching and unclenching, as her breaths became short and quick. She will not lose her temper. She will not—

In a guttural tone Stephanie asked, "Is something wrong?"

The girls blinked. "E-excuse me, mademoiselle?" The other one with dirt-blondish locks questioned.

"I said, 'Is something wrong'?" She whirled around to face them, her flushed face taking on a reddish hue. "You both continue to gape like codfish. Do I have anything on my face, hmm? Food? Marks? By the looks of it, I don't see anything amiss yet you're staring."

"N-n-n-no w-w-we're n-not s-s-staring," the redhead replied for both.

"Please," Stephanie growled. "I'm not blind if that's what you're thinking. My vision is perfect 20/20 and you both were staring. I believe it's a courtesy for customers to be treated with respect. Now, quit looking at me like I'm on display and do your work so I can leave!"

Both closed their mouths and kept their eyes to the floor as they finished. Stephanie wasn't too pleased by biting their heads off, but she will not stand to be accosted like a sideshow freak. She thrown her dress back on and stormed out to meet Etienne and leave.

He was busy speaking to Madam Laverne and almost missed seeing Stephanie flying by.

"I'm done," she declared sternly. Her fuming state couldn't be suppressed as she crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes dark with fury.

"I'll send a post when the order is done Monsieur," Madam Laverne explained, looking at Stephanie.

"Thank you Madam and good day," Etienne said with a tilt of his head.

"Oh and Madam?" Stephanie called out as she reached the door. Gazing hard at the older woman and then sending a murderous look to the simpering girls, saying, "I believe your associates need a lesson in manners when dealing with potential customers."

And she slammed the door to make her point. Grinning impishly, she was about to walk to the hansom when Etienne, his countenance ruffled, jerked her arm. "What was that about?"

Angered by him grabbing her, she glowered, "They were rude! You should have seen the way they were looking at me. A couple of guppies, if you ask me, and had the gull to pretend to be innocent too. They were lucky I didn't close those big eyes with several black—"

"Mlle Larson," Etienne coldly interrupted. "I think that's enough."

"I wouldn't really punch them," she protested. "But they shouldn't have been staring or whispering behind my back."

"And a lady doesn't behave so brusquely neither," Etienne chastised. "If there was a problem, you should have informed me and I would have seen to it."

Stephanie's mouth fell opened as he dragged her to the carriage. "And I can't see to it myself?" she yelled, climbing in and unceremoniously landing on the cushion. "I didn't need your help. I took care of it."

Closing the door, Etienne sat across and returned her glare. "And well done I must say."

She snorted, rolling her eyes, but he continued. "We happen to be one of the most important customers there. Losing us will be a severe blow to Madam Laverne and she will not stand for it. What influence do you have? None! So, in respect to the future, mademoiselle, if there any displeasing conveniences should occur; I fully expect you to deter from idle impulses and allow myself or Father to handle it. That should remove any burden from your shoulders."

The condescending remark caused Stephanie's jaw to drop in wordless shock. Gaining her bearings, she stuck out her head, her eyes sharp as daggers. "I do not need you or Erik to fight for me! This was my own battle and it doesn't concern you. If you don't like it, then too bad. At least next time those dimwits would think twice of using their wide pupils."

"Those girls happened to be starting the trade today and were nervous as mice," Etienne argued. "Do you feel better now?"

She started, but kept her cool in check. "A little head's up would have been nice," Stephanie retorted. "But it doesn't matter. First day, fifth day, even a hundred twelve wouldn't make a difference. How would you like it if someone were gawking at you? You wouldn't be so civil then."

"I would remember my place and where I am," he answered stiffly. "Such silly nonsense can be overlooked."

"Well, kudos for you," she snapped, looking away. In a much softer and quieter tone, she whispered, "You have no idea what I went through because of my eyes."

Etienne glanced at her, yet he didn't hear a word she uttered. He turned away, silently praising for a quick ride home.

TBC…