Chapter 3
The porcelain basin rattled violently, causing water to splash on the wooden bureau. Andre slammed his fists onto the wooden surface repeatedly. He cried out in muffled agony as hot tears rolled down his face.
His reflection stared back at him in the mirror.
Pathetic. He was utterly pathetic.
He had always known that his love for Oscar would condemn him and he would have been happy to die for her, yet he never imagined just how much it would hurt.
How he had missed her! He thought of nothing but her when she was away and his attention was consumed by her when she was around. That small encounter just an hour ago seemed to breathe new life into him, making him hopeful once more. There had been no mistaking it, for he knew Oscar better than anyone: she had missed him too.
And so, he had made it a point to finish his tasks quickly and then run into the kitchen to fix some hot chocolate for them. Grandmere had informed him that Oscar was staying the night at home, and all the servants would be going to the ball, so it was a perfect opportunity. It would just be him and her tonight. Like old times. They would sit by the fire, drink and catch up. She would play the piano or the violin for him and then he would read to her until she was tired enough to go to bed.
His Oscar was back and tonight, she would be all his. Even if it wasn't in the way he truly wanted.
So, with a spring in his foot and a song in his heart, Andre was on his way with a tray to Oscar's rooms when he stopped dead in his tracks.
There were voices coming out of her room. First, her voice, warm with laughter in it. And then, he glimpsed him.
Fersen.
He saw him go into her rooms and the door closing behind him.
Andre waited and waited but no one came out.
The worst part was that there were no voices talking after that. There was no conversation. When he pressed his ear to the wall, all he could hear was Oscar's soft moans and grunts. He couldn't listen any longer.
He ran away and, in his hurry, he fell down the stairs with the tray.
It was all over.
His worst nightmare had finally materialized: Oscar and Fersen.
He splashed water onto his face in an attempt to discard this horrible thought.
But it's all your fault… a little voice inside of him whispered. You made her realize…
He stared his reflection back in defiance.
How could he possibly imagine that his meticulously concocted plan of showing up to a masquerade ball in a perfect disguise would inadvertently drive her right into the arms of Fersen?
All he had wanted was one dance. Just to feel her body close to his, to have her perfume linger on him, to feel her head against his chest, to look her in the eyes and transmit to her all the love and desire he carried for. That is, without her knowing it was him, of course.
He had never even intended to kiss her. It all happened so quickly and unexpectedly. The opportunity presented itself and he simply couldn't resist.
His fingers absently traced his lips. It had been simply divine. Yet all it seemed to have done was to awaken something in his friend that he never thought possible. Alas, all hope of ever feeling Oscar's lips on his was now extinguished.
He took a deep breath and exhaled out loudly.
And so, Andre put on his black mask and cape and headed out to the servants' masquerade ball. Tonight, Andre Grandier will not hold back. He will lose himself to the point of numbness, whether it was in the arms of a woman, or a bottle or several. Tonight, he will make himself forget. Tomorrow, he will lick his wound, and he will mourn for the rest of his life.
…
The venue was loud and crowded. Oscar was lost in a sea of people whom she did not recognize and who did not recognize her. She made sure of the latter. At least, Fersen did. She stepped into the hall on his arm, wearing a simple dress of pale blue, with a dark brown wig and a royal blue velvety mask to complete the outfit. Her arm clutched that of Fersen's a tad tightly, as it dawned on her just out of place she really felt. A part of her wondered if it hadn't been better to do this mission with Andre instead. At least with him, she would not have felt this anxious.
Fersen brought Oscar a glass of wine and he watched in fascination as she downed it in one shot.
"Shall we mingle?" he proposed.
"Absolutely not," came her resolute response. Her eyes kept scanning the room like a hawk looking for its next prey. He will show himself, she was sure of it.
"Wouldn't it look odd if we just stood here?" he insisted.
Oscar sighed. "I agree. Go on ahead and mingle. I will keep watch."
Not the answer he had hoped for, evidently.
"Come, come, I won't go without you. Let us dance together, shall we?" he gave her one of his charming smiles and gently tugged on her arm.
Just as she was about to decline, the man in the Black Mask entered the room. Oscar's heart almost stopped, flashbacks of that kiss making her flush. She watched him intently as he greeted people here and there. Evidently, he was known here. So, he was no foreigner, after all. It did not even take long for him to find a young lady and make his way to the dance floor.
"Fine, let's go," she finally said to Fersen.
…
"So, what's the plan?" Fersen whispered when the dance had brought them face-to-face. He reveled in the close contact that this opportunity provided him.
"First, we need to get closer and then find a way to isolate him," Oscar responded with her militaristic command.
"I can definitely get us closer." It was true, Fersen was the most talented dancer Oscar had ever seen at Versailles. At least, until this masked man, whom she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of. There was something even more alluring about him now than the last time she had seen him. Something… devilish. As if he had no reserve or inhibition.
"But it would be on you to drag him away." This comment from Fersen sharply drew attention back to him.
"And how do you suppose I do that by myself in front of all of these people without blowing my cover?" she snapped.
"Well…" Fersen's eyes rested on her decolletage then he discreetly nodded in the direction of the man in the Black Mask.
It took Oscar a few seconds to grasp his suggestion and when she did, her eyes widened in embarrassment.
"You're not suggesting I… seduce him!?" she hissed, indignant.
"Well, of course. How else were you planning on secluding him?"
"I… stalk him until he is alone and then ambush him?"
Fersen burst out in laughter, making Oscar feel more ridiculous than ever.
"Ma chere," he resumed. "A man like that is never alone."
They turned to watch him once more. The dance was not over and he was already dancing with three different women.
Oscar sighed. "And how do you suggest I…do this?" she asked reluctantly. The last thing she wanted was for Fersen to know just how inexperienced and unworldly she was.
"Ah, my dear, but you don't have to do anything." He leaned in closer, his breath caressing her neck, making the hair on her arms stand up. "In case you haven't noticed, you are the most beautiful woman in the room tonight. Any man would be foolish not to take you."
Oscar's cheeks turned bright red. She looked away, over Fersen's shoulder, not wanting to cross eyes with him. He chuckled softly, finding her innocence wholly endearing, and pulled her an inch closer to him. They made a good pair, her and him, Fersen thought. They had always shared a common understanding of the world. They enjoyed each other's company and built a solid friendship over time. More importantly, they held each other in the highest esteem: Oscar's transparency and honesty was something he admired greatly in her. Even when it meant hearing things he did not want to hear; like convincing him to leave for the sake of the Queen. For a moment, as he held her in his arms, he could see them together, spending their days riding, Oscar challenging him to a race or a shooting match. He could have a normal life with her. They could travel together and live in Sweden, far away from the madness and cut-throat climate at Versailles. He would be there for her, support her in whatever she wanted to do, continue to be the loyal friend he had always been. Just as she had done for him.
Alas…
His heart remained bound to the one woman in the world whom he could never have. He pressed Oscar closer to him, momentarily burying his face in her neck, willing his sorrow to disappear. He could have had a normal life.
But that was not his Fate.
He lifted her chin to him and gave her a knowing smile before disengaging reluctantly from her, sending her into the arms of another man.
…
Oscar barely had time to digest what had just taken place. Had Fersen made an attempt to court her just now? To court her? Oscar Francois de Jarjayes? The man she been relentlessly dreaming of and secretly madly in love with for the past several years?
But before she could even react, she found herself floating on the dance floor until a familiar strong arm encircled her waist and grounded her in place. She was suddenly face to face with the object of her most recent obsession. He gave her a rakish grin that tickled her spine.
"Bonsoir," he said.
So, he was not a foreigner. And he did not recognize her. Excellent!
"Bonsoir," she replied, confidently, her voice a sultry alto.
"Lovely evening, isn't it?" he attempted conversation as they danced.
"Riveting," came her reply. Do you always use that line? She wondered.
"I see you're not alone," he gestured to Fersen. Thankfully, her companion had disguised himself quite well so as not to be recognized.
"Oh, he's just a friend."
"Lucky me," he replied.
"Oh? How so?" she feigned ignorance.
He pulled her closer to him and whispered in her ear. "Well, that means I won't have to die tonight duelling with another man for your love."
Oscar's laugh rang through the hall, drawing some attention to them. He stared at her, perplexed.
"Does that line normally work for you?" she teased.
His pride seemed slightly wounded but he quickly recovered and grinned.
"It does, actually, you would be surprised."
"I'm sure I wouldn't," she said knowingly and twirled him around. She was leading the dance now, which completely took him off guard.
Andre Grandier's interest was piqued. He had not expected this at all. He had come with only one intention tonight: to score an easy conquest. Instead, he found himself with a woman whose beauty was beguiling and who possessed a rare sense of self-assuredness, confidence and boldness that rendered her utterly seductive. The evening had suddenly become a lot more interesting than he had thought. But, who was this woman?
"Have we met before?" he bluntly asked her.
"Hmm… I don't believe so." Oscar managed to keep her cool so as not to give herself away.
He scrutinized her. Why did she seem so familiar? There was something in her eyes…
"Say, which household do you work in?"
"Erm… the Polignac's." Oscar said the first name that came to mind.
Excellent, thought Andre, he would unlikely cross paths with her again, then.
"Surprising," he said.
"What is?"
"That the Countess de Polignac would allow a maid of your beauty into her service and not feel an ounce of jealousy."
Oscar rolled her eyes and grinned. Oh, this was surely going to be easy. He was besotted by her.
What she did not account for, though, was the fact that she, too, was besotted by him. Seeing as how she was immune to his flirtations, Andre simply let his body speak for him. He fixed her intently, letting all his passion and desire spew unreservedly towards her. His fingers lightly traced the warm skin of her arms and the small of her back, making her shiver at the contact. He felt her body reverberate with his touch and her seemingly wild spirit submit under his quiet gaze. He knew he had her. She was unlike any other woman he had ever met. It was as if she was not of this world. And yet, there was something so vaguely familiar about her. Had he indeed seen her before? Staring into her eyes was like a reflection into his own soul. And her lips, they were so moist and pink and inviting like a strawberry on a hot summer morning. How he longed to taste them!
He did not want to waste anymore time and it seemed, neither did she. For when she voiced the words, "is there somewhere quieter we can talk?" he grabbed her arm and led her to the first empty room he could find.