Was she trying to kill him? All evening, all he could think about was her, all he could look at was her. He could stop looking at her. He had never seen so much skin, nor such a bright, flirtatious smile coming from her normally pouting lips. She ruthlessly flirted with every man, not giving them the chance to realize what was happening. She was killing him. How he managed to sit across from her in the carriage  - which was hard enough, given her shaking and his need to comfort her - he didn't know. From the moment he saw her on the stairs his blood had been boiling. With every other young man who was infatuated by her, his fingers itched for the lasso that was not in his sleeve. His heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to drag her out of the ballroom to somewhere the world would not know to look. But as he had learned twice now, kidnapping was not the answer.

   Yet she was taunting him, the forbidden fruit that he could not reach. And not because of his or her own vows, but their combined unspoken agreements. She wanted nothing to do with him, and he would not force himself. He would not make her listen to what he had to say. So he let her flirt. So he ignored his burning rage, his boiling jealousy, and his fiery desire.

   Fortunately, Celi quickly grew tired of flirting. She was reminded once again why she did not like large gatherings, nor people. She drifted, slowly of course, back to Erik's side and stayed on his arm for the remainder of the night. A night that took a very comical turn when she found out he had never had one of her favorite deserts.

   "Two chocolates, please," she told a servant before addressing Erik. "You poor darling. I've forgotten you have lived as a grouchy old hermit under two opera houses for most of your life. You've never experienced most indulgences."

  She handed him a bowl of a frozen brown lump and a spoon. He stared at her, at a loss. She was already eating hers. "It's ice cream, honey, you eat it."

"I'm aware that you eat it, but... what is it?"

  "Shut up and don't chew - a smaller bite than that, you'll freeze your head!"

   Erik followed her instructions, hesitantly. He found she was absolutely right. "My god, how is it you know where to find the best cake and then this... creamed ice?"

   "Ice cream. Because I am all-knowing." She had not known just how hungry she was until that moment. It seemed as if her weeks of barely eating had caught up to her and she was considering seconds. If her corset permitted it, that is. "I thought you weren't a fan of food."

  "You make everything better." Celi dropped her spoon on the floor. She was about to respond, a was cut off.

  "My, my, Grace. Still clumsy as ever, I see?" A nasal female voice came from her shoulder.

   "Hello Trudy. I changed my name. It's Celine now," she spat.

   Erik watched her and another girl size each other up - in a ladylike manner, though, for this Trudy was a lady and Celi immediately took up airs at her presence.

   "Even when we were little you were changeful. It's a shame not all people can outgrow their childlike qualities."

  "It is a shame some people are born adults. The miss out on having fun and a life."

   Trudy smiled cruelly. She was about Celine's stature, perhaps a bit taller. Her eyes were dull and cold, and Erik disliked her greatly. Her voice made ears sore.

   "Your version of fun and mine, are two different things."

   "Oh?"

  "Well let's just say," Trudy said. "I don't move from man to man. First Rodger. Now your handsome masked friend. Who's next? Who will you use to climb the theatrical ladder next, Celine? A director?"

  "I didn't buy my way into a ballet school."

   "I have talent!" Trudy loathed Celine, and the feeling was mutual.

   "Yes you do. I just have more."

  Erik wondered if he should step in. Truth be told, he did not want to. Celi looked like she wanted to claw someone's eyes out.

   "Well forgive me then. You have talent, but not looks. Try a wooden corset next time, whalebone clearly doesn't work for you. It might give the next man you bed splinters... not that you need to ward anyone off. You haven't been pregnant yet."

   "Should I go tell your mother how very unladylike you are being? Nice girls do not insult other girls, nor speak with such diction." She let her bowl fall to the floor.

   "In parting, goodbye. I'm sad you're still alive. I was told Paris harmed you."

   "No. I loved Paris."

   "You must have. There's no one there to embarrass yourself in front of." And Trudy trudged off before Celine could get the last word.

  She wouldn't have been able to anyway. She had gone terribly pale.

   "I know you asked me not to murder anyone, but may she be the exception?" Erik jested, trying to get the terrifying expression off of Celi's face.

"Why does she hate you?" He added the question a moment later.

   She tried to reach for her spoon on the floor, but couldn't for her corset prevented her from bending. "Could you?"

  "Yes."

  He gathered the spoon and bowl and set it on a table for her.

   "Thank you.... Can we just say ballet school was... difficult. Nora and George paid for the first set of classes. But only a few recieved the invitation to train for the ballet - for advanced lessons and a professional future. Trudy was the first to buy her way into the advanced classes. I was the only other girl present. And we always hated each other. But one day... we were in the rooms offered for breaks. She tore my costume... and I had to graduate early because no one wanted to dance with me after that."

   "I think your scars are beautiful, even if I haven't seen all of them."

"You offered me your coat earlier, may I have it?"

                              🌹

   "Celine, when I gifted you that dress I meant for you to embrace your inner goddess of passion. Discover your daring sex goddess. Or at the very least lead men on so that you and I could laugh at them in private later. I did not intend for you to tightlace and flaunt yourself." Rodger stood in Celine's bedroom with his arms crossed, the closest thing to a scowl on his face. But the pursed lipped grimace was nothing more than adorable - and he knew it.

  "Oh Rodger, stop. Or continue but help me out of the so-called man-trap. Unlace me, will you?" She presented her back to him.

   "Where is Erik?" He asked, unlacing the strings with fingers much more nimble and adept at the work then her own.

  "He's in the parlor. Asked me to come down and talk to him but I'm not."

   Rodger lifted the large gown over her head, needing it off to release the corset. "You will go down there." He placed it in her closet as she shuffled around her slip and slid offher petticoats.

  "Do not tear those petticoats or your stockings! They are silk. Why I give you nice things when you are so callus with them, I do not know!" He called from somewhere in her mass of dresses, knowing her habits all too well.

  She rolled her eyes but carefully undressed further.

  He re-emerged holding a midnight blue gown. It was plain except for the black lace of the neckline. "Put this on."

   With the dress over one arm, he used his free hand to undo the corset further.

  "I will not. I'm putting on a nightgown and that is it."

  "I expect it won't be the first time he's seen you in such apparel. But do you think he can restrain himself now that you're in love?"

  "I am going to bed!"

  But Rodger was forcing the gown over her head.

   "You are not. You will give the man a chance. At least be amiable and break his heart gently."

  "He brutally shattered my own," she mumbled from beneath the layers.

   "Right. So throw yourself at each other, go to whoever's room is nearest and make amends."

  "I am not having an affair! Unlike you -"

  "Unlike me, you can get pregnant. I know."

  "Rodger!"

  "Talk to him!"

Next Chapter is very steamy. And second to last. I think. Might be last. We'll see.