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In the very room Fleur woke up, she was now standing, holding the bar of her bed as Elizabeth pulled her corset tighter. She was going to the opera tonight. Mama would never have allowed her to go there instead of a ball, so she was pleased to hear there was none.
She joined her Mama downstairs, all dressed. Zahara coughed. "Are you well, Mama?" Fleur asked her. "Should we stay home?"
"No, of course not, you silly girl," She tried to joke. "I am quite well, thank you." But then she coughed another time, this time louder than the one before.
Zahara had been feeling unwell the entire day. But she was looking forward to spending this time with her daughter. This was an opportunity to forget about any possible suitors for one night and just enjoy each other's presence. It seemed like the universe did not wish that upon our dear Lachapelles.
The coughing had sounded through the house. Only Henri, who'd been sitting in the library close to them, had heard and came speeding in the hallway. "Are you feeling alright, Mother?" He asked as well.
Zahara kept up her act. "Yes, dear. I am perfectly healthy. We should get going if we want to be on time."
"I'm sorry, Mother, but you cannot go outside in this condition." Henri told her.
"I am perfectly healthy," She continued to say. "Besides, we have an opera to listen to." She attempted a smile at Fleur, who was standing there listening to the situation.
Henri shrugged. "I will take Fleur. You stay home and rest. Make sure you are as perfectly healthy as you say you are for tomorrow's ball." He grinned at Fleur.
Finally, Zahara gave in to her sickness. A doorman opened the door for Henri and Fleur. They walked to Louis' carriage in silence. Neither of them said a word when Louis opened the door for them. Fleur wanted to say something to her brother, but as he kept on drinking from his flask, she wasn't sure now was the time.
She couldn't believe she would actually have to ask about it. He must've known how much it tortured her, not knowing what was happening to Theo Sharpe. Instead he said nothing.
Fleur cleared her throat. "So . . . Brother? What have you been up to these past few days?" She tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible.
"Oh, you know, raking, as you so elegantly call it. Lots of nights at the club," He took a swig from his flask. "I don't suppose you want to hear about that, Sister."
Fleur tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. "I mean the other part."
"If you're asking about Theo Sharpe's debts, he still has them." Henri said. Another swig.
