A Gentleman's Prerogative (Unedited Version)

Chapter 9

Marioselle made her way back to the ballroom. She was still trying to process everything Sean had said. The thought that someone intended to harm her was unnerving. She felt naked and exposed. As if everyone was suddenly watching her.

In truth most were. It was her party after all. The revelation was frightening, and served only to increase her anxiety. How was she supposed to determine who was friend or foe. Had she been at any other event someone watching her intently would be obvious.

On the other hand however, seeing as the room was full of observers, no one in their right mind would attempt anything and risk being seen, or captured. Would they? The thought caused her to shiver.

No, she decided. It would be impossible. The ballroom was the safest place for her to be. At least, until Sean could create a diversion. Then she would have to be cautious as to those around her, as she made her escape.

Trust no one, he had said. She would do just that. Although truthfully it wouldn't be a difficult task, she hardly knew most of the guests. Some of them were friends of her grandparents, a few were acquaintances, however the majority were strictly there for bragging rights. She hadn't made any real friends since she moved back to Paris. There were a couple of girls from her finishing school days, but honesty she didn't care for them. So sadly, though it was her party, there were only three others besides Sean, who were truly there for her. Her grandparents and her mother.

As if thinking about her made her magically appear, she spotted her mother next to the dance floor. She was speaking with a group of women. Older matrons, the Beua Monde of society. A good hostess catered to these ladies, and her mother excelled in this particular skill. She had been raised to.

Marioselle unfortunately lacked the finer qualities. She tried her best, however she could never manage the gracefulness required of a true society lady. She shrugged off the thought. She had resigned herself to that failing long ago. Besides at the moment she had other, more pressing obstacles to attend to.

As she made her way towards her mother, she was filled with dread. What is if this were the last time she would see her? She couldn't even tell her goodbye, as she didn't want to put her in danger as well. Would she forgive her for running away? Would she understand why? She would miss her terribly.

It had always been just the two of them, even after her mother remarried, they had still remained close. She had never been apart from her before, and now she would be an ocean away. That was if she managed to survive. She pushed away the morbid thought. She would be safe, Sean would never let anything happen to her. But what if Sean...? No, I will not think of it. I must remain optimistic.

She continued on, winding her way through the room when she suddenly collided with someone. Lost in her own thoughts she hadn't noticed the woman until it was too late. The collision had caused her to spill an entire glass of wine down the front of the womans gown. Marioselle was was thoroughly embarrassed by her own clumsiness. Everyone was staring at them as the woman began to sputter, tears forming in her eyes over the ruination of her lovely gown.

Oh! Dear, I have really made a mess of things this time, she groaned. Of all times for this to happen. I cant just leave her here crying. But my mother? I can't leave without seeing her. What should I do? She stood there for several seconds arguing with her conscience, while those around her whispered and laughed. In the end, her sense of duty and compassion won out and overruled her own needs.

"Oh, dear! I'm so terribly sorry. Please, let me help you."

"Non, Mademoiselle. It is all my fault. Do not worry. I am "what you say, a klutz?" I shall just find my way to the powder room and clean myself up. Though I daresay, this wine will never come out."

"I am awfully sorry. Please? Allow me to assist you. It is the very least I can do."

"That is very kind of you, however I do not believe it would be proper for us to be seen together." At her statement, Marioselle, looked at her in question.

"You do not understand? Look closely Madamoiselle."

Marioselle took another look at the lovely young woman. This time comprehending her cryptic words. The cut of her gown, the overly applied make-up, no ring upon her left finger. Her appearance spoke volumes. Marioselle's eyes betrayed her, as they widened upon realization.

"I see that you understand now. I thank you for your kind offer milady," she said as she executed a small curtsy. "However I shall be fine on my own. Au revoir."

Marioselle stood there staring after the young woman. She looked no older than herself, mayhap a bit younger without all the cosmetics. What, she wondered, could have driven her to the life of a demimonde. She felt sorry for her, and terrible that society wouldn't allow her to assist her. Her sympathy however, quickly turned to anger, fueling her frustration with the Beau Monde. Who were they to judge anyone? She fumed, as she hurried across the room, trying to catch up to her.

She lost sight of her several times before she made it through the crush. When she finally caught a glimpse of her again, she was heading towards the same hall the parlour was connected to. She sighed in relief. Helping the young woman would allow her to get to the parlour by midnight without anyone seeing her leave. Her maid Lisette would be waiting in the coach with her things, so she didn't have to worry about packing. Sean had seen to every little detail. All she would have to do now was wait.

She rounded the corner and spotted her at the end of the hall. She was hunched over, hugging herself at the waist. She looked as if she were crying. Concerned about her state of distress, Marioselle picked up her skirts and rushed to her side. "Miss! What is it? What is wrong?" She asked, placing an arm around her shoulders.

The young woman looked up into her eyes, her face free of tears and said, "I'm sorry, I have no choice."

Marioselle felt a sharp prick just before she fell into darkness.