Welcome to chapter 4! Things are already starting to happen in this story, and I’m sure there are a lot of questions that need to be answered. For now, let’s continue this story from where we left off and, as always, leave your comments and critiques below:

“Tell me again about Monsieur de Fontaine!” Meg begs as she bounces on her mattress.

In the aftermath of the ball, skirts, petticoats, and ribbons litter the floor of the girls’ bedroom. They sit up on their beds, their hair falling in loose waves around their faces, which glow with ecstasy and reminiscence.

Angelique shakes her locks at Meg. “I’ve told you before, Meg,” she scolds playfully, “we spoke, we danced, and that was it.”

Meg sighs, squeezing the pillow that she clutches to her chest. “I wish I could have gone with you. I was stuck with a bumbling youth who didn’t know dancing from tromping across the floor.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Angelique empathizes.

Meg sighs again. “Oh, to be as beautiful as my sister,” she muses, “who is so lovely that young lords seek to turn her head.”

Angelique scoffs. “Margaret Giry, you are just as beautiful as I am, and do not let anyone tell you otherwise. And besides, I did not turn his head. We were simply…” She pauses, considering her next words. She shakes her head again. “It was just the polite thing to do: he asked, I accepted.”

Meg raises her eyebrows in incredulity. “Do you really think that was the only reason he asked?”

“What other reason is there?”

Meg giggles at her sister’s naivety. “He is smitten with you!”

Angelique throws her pillow at Meg, who dodges with impromptu dexterity. “We just met this evening, Meg!”

The latter shrugs, lying down on her side. “Well, that might be true,” she says, “but I think that I’m right. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he seeks you out.”

Angelique rolls her eyes. “Good night, Meg,” she says as if that ends the conversation. Meg echoes her sister, and Angelique blows out the candle on their bureau. She had hoped that her revelation would be the end of her thoughts—that it was only a silly flame—but as she lies in bed staring at the ceiling, she can’t help but wonder if Meg is right. What if Gustave is smitten with her? What if he does seek her out? She shakes her head and rolls over on her side. Of course it’s just a silly daydream…but if it’s only that, why did the face of Gustave de Fontaine continue to force itself into her dreams that night?