Chapter 15
Part one
By the time Marinette had taken her first step onto the grand staircase the ball was in full swing. While there weren't nearly as many people dancing as Marinette had hoped, the turn out was satisfactory enough. Just as she had predicted the promise of nurturing one's curiosity was too great for anyone to resist. Granted it didn't hurt that the champagne was complimentary, it was the cheapest Marinette could buy. Granted the result would be the same had she sprung for the good stuff or not. Either way, if her guests had enough to drink of it they would soon forget the quality anyways. As she descended the steps Marinette couldn't help but flush as she began to draw the eyes of her guests. Maybe she should have worn her gray dress afterall, the heat on her cheeks was nearly enough to make her swoon.
Her salvation finally came as she took her final step onto the marble floors, and the guests had once again turned their attention back to their conversations and drink. Marinette began to walk around the outskirts of the dance floor, she had two people she was on the hunt for. Three if you counted the mystery serial letter writer, Marinette didn't at all. If she ran into this so-called man then so be it. However, it wouldn't break her heart if they just happened to miss one another due to the thick crowd of people. No, her mission was to find Hubert and Paquet, surely they rubbed elbows with the elites of Paris society. They would have to make introductions and that would increase her chances of procuring the finances she needed. In her hastiness however, Marinette had forgotten to remain aware of her surroundings. Her elbow caught the arm of a young gentleman, sending his drink into his evening wear. His very expensive looking evening wear. "Oh Monsieur, I must apologize!" Marinette searched in vain for any sort of cloth that may soak up the champagne from his jacket. Maybe it could absorb some of her embarrassment as well. She wasn't even thirty minutes into her very first ball before blundering.
"It's quite alright, I have a dozen more at home just like it." The young man laughed and pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. He began to dab at the wet spot and Marinette sighed. "Please at least send me the laundering bill, " I insist. Had I not been so airheaded then this wouldn't have happened." Marinette bit the inside of her cheek. In what universe did she think she had enough funds to cover the laundering bill of such a fine piece of clothing! "Nonsense!" The man smiled warmly and began to put his handkerchief back into his pocket. "See? You wouldn't be able to tell that anything had happened at all." The man retained his smile and Marinette released the breath she'd been holding and ceased her self loathing. "If you insist than who am I to persist in the matter?" She returned the man's smile. The man before her was probably only a few years older than herself. His honey blonde hair and fair skin shone with health and his chocolate brown eyes held nothing but kindness. Marinette's heart skipped a beat and she jolted from the feeling. "Are you alright? You've nearly jumped out of your skin and you're flushed." The man began to scrutinize Marinette. "Oh I'm fine! It's sweltering in here is it not?" Marinette went to fan herself but decided against the motion. There was nothing more embarrassing than fanning oneself without a proper fan.
"Please allow me to fetch you a drink, though I would like to secure your promise that you won't dump it on me this time." The man smiled brightly, as Marinette chuckled nervously. "I can do my best, but I make no promises." With that being said the man was off in search of a refreshment for Marinette. It was a strange feeling having someone of the opposite sex cater to her "delicate feminine" needs. Back in Italy the only men she was ever around were her male cousins, and they didn't really fit the picture of chivalry. "He's a gallant one isn't he!" Meg's voice interrupted her thoughts. Marinette spun around to greet her cousin, seeing her was enough to ease most of Marinette's nerves. "He sure is gentlemanly." Marinette looked back at the direction the man had left. "I would say so! He's the son of a Count, which I can't recall. By the way, you look like a vision!" Meg gushed and preened over Marinette. "The son of a Count?" Marinette turned back to her cousin, her eyes the size of a dinner plate. "Yes! I believe he's the son of the Count of Toulouse, though I can't be sure. The champagne has made my thoughts fuzzy and strung together. Do you think he'd fund us?" Meg asked a little too loud for Marinette's comfort. "Maybe you should put the bubbles down for a bit, who knows what your mother will do if she catches you with them!" Marinette hissed.
Meg seemed to have sobered up rather quickly at the mention of her mother. "Perhaps you're right. But you didn't answer my question." Meg pouted. "I doubt he will, I basically ran him over and forced him to empty nearly his entire glass onto himself." Marinette ran her hand down the length of her dress nervously. It was one thing to run off an aristocrat or two but he son of a Count was entirely too big of a loss for her to stomach. "Just blink those long pretty lashes at him and he'll forget the incident." Meg wagged her eyebrows at her cousin. "Meg, I will not use womanly wiles to get to the top. I'm a business woman and I need to be seen as such in order to be respected." Marinette chastised her cousin. In truth, Marinette was fully confident she had what it took to woo a man, let alone someone so high up in the social scene. "Boo, maybe you should have some champagne. This is your party after all, no one wants a logical Laura to dampen the mood. "Meg I-" But before she could continue to argue with her cousin Marinette spotted something…no it was someone. Someone who just so happened to be wearing a blood red rose on his lapel. Someone who was smirking at her from across the ballroom. "Please excuse me." Marinette didn't give her cousin time to protest as she fisted her skirts into her hands and began to march towards the man. She was nearly halfway before she'd been cut off by the son of the Count. "Mademoiselle! I have your refreshment for you." He stood in her path and gingerly held out a glass of champagne for Marinette's taking. Marinette hesitantly took the glass from him and offered him a tight smile. She had been this close to confronting the letter man.
"Thank you sir." Marinette took a small sip in order to satisfy his manners. She tried not to grimace at the bitterness of the drink. "It was my pleasure, now may I also have the pleasure of your name? Or would you prefer I call you the hazardous spiller?" The Count's son offered a playful smile. "You may call me Madame Gippetti." Marinette's brow twitched, though she knew he meant no harm she couldn't help but feel annoyed at the unwanted jest. Never mind the fact her confrontation was thwarted by him. "Madame? I was not aware you were spoken for." The Count's son's smile faltered. "I am not, I am simply just too old for courtship. I am past the debutante age." Marinette felt bad for a moment, this explanation was her way of apologizing. "Ah but a rose in full bloom still has a chance to be picked." He responded as he picked up Marinette's hand and placed a small kiss upon it. Marinette blushed and stammered. Almost immediately she could feel her cousin's eyes on her back, no doubt harboring a smug look. "Am I to be the only one whose identity is unmasked?" Marinette retorted as she politely withdrew her hand from his. "Ah, well you may call me Louis Alexandre de Bourbon. And no, I have no relation to those Bourbons." He responded, Marinette was about to ask more of his family when Louis perked his head up. "It sounds like they're beginning another waltz, would you do me the honor?" Louis offered his arm to Marinette, who hesitantly took it.
"I would be honored but I must admit I'm not well versed in the world of dance." Marinette admitted sheepishly. "That's quite alright I'll lead." Louis said gently as he led her to the middle of the dance floor. Marinette smiled softly and tried to swallow down the uncomfortable feeling of eyes watching her every move. There was also the issue that the man whom she suspected was the mysterious Monsieur D had disappeared into thin air. Louis held Marinette at a respectable distance from himself, he was nothing short of gentlemanly. But that didn't stop Marinette from having to keep herself from squeaking when she laid his hand at her waist and softly took her hand in his other. The music began and like magic her feet began to move alongside his, granted there were a few times she stumbled. But he always caught her before anyone could notice. "I dare say that you seem to anticipate my blunders." Marinette looked him in his eyes with an accusatory stare. "Well given your previous clumsiness and your counting off the steps, it's not all that hard to." He smiled down at her. "You do an awful lot of smiling, you know." Marinette averted her eyes and he chuckled. "Why shouldn't I? I'm enjoying the presence of a beautiful young woman and I'm having a grand time. Also, I find that the more you smile, the more tolerable life becomes." Marinette didn't mention the fact that while that statement could be true in theory, having an arsenal of funds probably gave him a lot to smile about as well.
The music around them swelled as they turned on the dance floor, the whisper of the fellow party goers wasn't lost on Marinette. "So how did you find yourself here at the ball?" Louis asked. "Well you see, this is actually my ball. I own this opera house." Marinette but her lip as she avoided his stare. "You mean to tell me that you own this establishment?" Louis looked down at her incredulously. "Well yes, now I know it's very unorthodox but I couldn't let this place die." Marinette defended, while she was sure he hadn't meant to sound so surprised, it still struck a chord with her. "Oh please, don't mistake my surprise for anything dubious. It's just that well…you don't see a lot of women taking on these roles." It was Louis' turn to smile sheepishly. "Yes well, now you know. I'm sure that has casted a certain light onto me." Marinette bit her tongue, she could sass off to anyone, but not Louis. "On the contrary I admire your guts for doing so. And from what I've seen you've done a damn good job of reviving the old girl." Louis responded genuinely and Marinette was genuinely surprised.
"Thank you, but it won't matter if I do a good job or not if I don't procure the funding for it." Marinette sighed. "Funding? Don't you have patrons? I thought I remembered reading about it in the paper." Marinette looked up at him in surprise. "You've read about us?" "The whole of Paris has. I couldn't walk down the market streets without hearing about the resurrection of the Opera Populair." Louis added dramatics onto the last bit of his sentence. "Yes it's true that we have two patrons, if you could call them that. They have agreed to fund our costuming but there's much more to pay for before we debut and they've decided to withhold funding. The bank has threatened to rescind the loan. That doesn't necessarily shout "financial stability" to anyone involved." Marinette couldn't understand why she was telling him all of this, but she had to admit it was nice to have a fresh ear to speak to. "Well, miracles do tend to happen. Ah it would seem our waltz has come to an end." Louis looked around at the other fellow dancers who all began to clap for the musicians. Marinette blinked and couldn't believe that time had flown by that quickly, albeit it was a four minute waltz but it felt like seconds. "Would you like some fresh air? I would be happy to escort you." Louis once again offered his arm to Marinette. She was about to take it but the sound of a throat clearing interrupted the action. "I believe the young miss owes me her next waltz." A deep voice that was so musical Marinette could have swooned. But instead Marinette's blood turned to ice as she turned and came face to face with the man from earlier. The man with the red rose on his lapel.
"Isn't that right, Marinette?"