"Shit hits the fan so fertilizer can rain." Jackie Viramontez

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XXI.

"May I escort a lady inside?" Peter asked, still rubbing his pride as he climbed to his feet, Belle's posture straightening simultaneously.

Her eyes flicked to both Cecily and Grace, both of whom had joined their gathering. Peter could sense a little bashfulness from Belle all of a sudden, and it frustrated him that she had grown so shy so quickly when she had appeared so excited only a moment ago. He wished she would not allow her nerves to get the better of her.

"I am not a lady," Belle whispered, as though it were a confession.

Peter's face fell as he realised that Belle had grown self-conscious over his use of the word "lady". She observed the ladies around her, and she believed that she did not belong. While his initial thoughts were of his own frustration, Peter had to remind himself that Belle was conditioned to believe this. She had lived most of her life being treated as though she had the worth of a sewer rat.

Before Peter could assure her, Cecily interjected.

"Hogwash!" declared the dowager duchess.

Peter grinned as Cecily's exclamation elicited a jump of surprise from Belle. Her golden eyes flicked back to him. "What is hogwash?" she asked him, again in a whisper. "Hog is pig, no?" Belle's eyes flared with shock at the realisation. "Does she call me a pig?"

Were Peter not already stupidly in love with this woman, that would have been the moment that did it. Belle's expression of horror was terribly amusing, and Peter knew that he would be going to hell for laughing, but he could not help it. Nor could anyone else.

Peter never wanted to surprise Belle with touch, but he put his arm around her in a secure, comforting manner, just as she became terribly embarrassed by the laughs of their party.

"What did I say wrong?" stressed Belle. "Do they all think I am a pig?"

"No, no," Peter promised. "Hogwash means nonsense. What you said was nonsense, rubbish, not true," he explained. "Her Grace was defending you. There was absolutely no mention of pigs," he assured her. "Besides, you are every bit a lady to me."

"Oh, dear Belle, how terribly cruel of us to laugh so," Grace cried, her voice filled with regret, though Peter could still tell that his sister was amused at the situation.

"Well said, Peter," Cecily commended. "You are every bit a lady, my dear girl," she added to Belle. "I have found the best women in my acquaintance to be the ones that society witches would look down upon. You will find that I have marvellous taste," she then said, commending herself, before adding, "and an even sharper tongue. Should you feel that anyone in attendance tonight requires a dressing down, do not hesitate to find me. Have a lovely evening." She smiled slyly. "Adam?" Cecily turned to the duke. "Will you escort Grace and I inside now? I fear blue does nothing for my complexion."

"Blue, however, suits Grace so well, Mother. I thought we might stay out in the cold a little while longer," Adam replied teasingly, before securing both his wife and mother on either arm and leading them towards the assembly hall.

Peter and Belle followed last, following Jem and Mrs Denham inside. The music was merry, and the first dance was already in full swing. The Beresfords were fashionably late to make their entrance.

Belle's grip on Peter's arm was tight, but her expression had returned to that of her original excitement. She was standing up on her toes, attempting to peer over the top of the crowds, though that was quite impossible with her short stature.

"You look beautiful tonight," Peter complimented, bending down to whisper in her ear.

Belle looked up at him and smiled, her golden eyes warming. "You look handsome tonight," she said, returning the compliment.

After they were announced into the ball, the ladies were offered dance card. Belle beamed in anticipation as she held out her gloved arm to the attendant, who slipped the ribbon over her wrist. Her attention was focussed on the card, so she did not see the expression of confusion and judgement on the attendant. Peter glared at him, and his face became neutral by the time that Belle was aware that it was time to move on.

Peter would not allow anything or anyone to spoil her night, or their night.

"The duchess, your sister, she has been very kind to me," Belle said as she held onto her dance card. "She has been teaching me the English dances, so I do not make a fool of myself like I did last time."

Peter realised that she must have been referring to Susanna's wedding. He chuckled. "I enjoyed improvising a dance with you."

Belle pursed her lips, though she smiled. "I enjoyed dancing with you then, as well. But I do so want to be ... ordinary."

Peter did understand her desire. Though considering she was quite plainly the prettiest woman in the ballroom, wearing a garment that flattered her so beautifully it ought to have been a crime, Belle would never be ordinary. But Peter would oblige her, whatever she desired. "May I have the honour of the next with you, Miss Desjardins?" he asked formally.

Belle grinned rather gleefully, and she nodded, holding out her dance card to him so that Peter could sign his name.

Just as Peter had finished writing, Jem seized hold of his arm, hitting him once in the chest, and saying, "Be calm, we are about to be introduced!"

Peter rubbed his chest and resisted elbowing Jem back. "You be calm, you duffer."

The ballroom was clearly abuzz now that the Beresfords had arrived, as the social schmoozing could begin. Peter had watched this sort of behaviour for years from the outside. It was amusing, really, how some people thought that gaining the favour of women like Cecily Beresford, could boost their own social standing ...

Peter then realised that thought was hyper-hypocritical of him. He supposed that he was the evidence of what gaining favour could do. Had his sister, had not two of his sisters married into the family, then he would have never had the opportunity to go to work in London.

"Schmooze away," he muttered under his breath. "Good luck to you all." Peter followed Jem's line of sight, which was, of course, focussed on Cressie Martin.

Cressie was being dragged along by her mother, the dance card on her wrist dangling by her side. Cressie did appear awfully put out, and Peter's previous assumption that there had been a quarrel between the two prior to the ball appeared more apparent.

Peter found himself feeling sorry for the girl. She reminded him then of Susanna the summer before last, when she had been suffering through her last season in London, at the mercy of her mother, and hordes of insufferable suitors.

Mrs Martin appeared very keen indeed to have her daughter introduced to the Beresfords. The vicar was beside Adam, Grace, and Cecily making the introductions of any new residents of the parish, and Mrs Martin and Cressie were certainly new.

No matter how his brother teased him, Peter would always be on Jem's side. "Wait on moment," he uttered to Belle, before left hers and Jem's sides. He manoeuvred around the crowd to come and stand behind his sister, just as Mrs Martin and Cressie were being introduced.

"Your Graces, may I introduce Mrs Martin, and her daughter, Miss Cressida Martin," said the vicar formally. "Mrs Martin, Miss Martin, may I present their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Ashwood, and the Dowager Duchess of Ashwood."

Mrs Martin and Cressie both curtseyed deeply, and the quarrelsome expression from Cressie's face had disappeared, and was replaced with a respectful, albeit intimidated, smile.

"It is a true honour to make your acquaintance, Your Graces," declared Mrs Martin, seemingly very pleased indeed. She then looked to her daughter, almost nudging her forward.

"Yes, I agree with my mother. I am d-delighted," stammered Cressie nervously.

As Mrs Martin went on to praise the festivities, Peter leaned forward to Grace's ear.

"Do your youngest brother a favour and introduce him to Miss Martin," he murmured.

Grace's expression did not change, save for a very small smile appearing on her lips.

Peter returned to Belle's side, and he spied Jem nervously fretting, a glisten of swear evident on his forehead. He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Jem. "She is not going to want to go near you if it looks as though you've just been swimming."

Jem huffed and quickly wiped his brow, just as they noticed Grace delicately claim Cressie, as though she was taking her under her wing. Behind her, Mrs Martin followed on, utterly delighted at the unfolding events.

Grace arrived with Cressie before Peter and Belle, meeting Peter's eye with an excited glance.

"Miss Martin, I would like you to meet my brother, Mr Denham," she gestured to Peter, "and this is Miss Belle Desjardins. She is a dear friend of my family, and rather a talented modiste as you may have read in the papers, in and amongst the drivel. Peter, Belle, meet Miss Cressida Martin."

Cressie was still very nervously standing in and amongst the party, and she rather reminded Peter of Belle quite a bit. She looked as though she felt a little out of place. Certainly, she did on the arm of a duchess. That part was Peter's fault.

"Delighted to meet you, Miss Martin," Peter said kindly.

"And you, Mr Denham, Miss Desjardins," replied Cressie.

"I would also like you to meet my youngest brother," continued Grace casually. "Miss Martin, meet Mr Jem Denham. Jem, meet Miss Cressida Martin."

Jem looked as though he had swallowed a lemon. Peter wanted to kick him. For how long had he been planning this moment, and now here he was ... looking like that. Cressie peered at him curiously, frowning. It was now that Peter noticed that Cressie had quite dark brown eyes, and they were looking upon Jem for the first time.

"I am sure Miss Martin is truly pleased to make the acquaintances of the brothers of the duchess!" encouraged Mrs Martin from behind her daughter, which prompted Grace to add in her quick introduction.

"I want a sandwich!" Jem rather loudly announced, before he promptly turned on his heel and all but marched in the direction of the refreshment room.

"Good Lord, Jem," muttered Peter under his breath. He would hate himself for that later. He probably hated himself for it right now. He had spoiled their meeting, and Cressie probably thought that he was a lunatic with an insatiable need for sandwiches in the middle of parties.

Peter and Grace shared a look, before Belle murmured, "You should go to him. Go and calm him."

Peter smiled down at her gratefully. "Will you save me the next dance, then?"

Belle smiled, her cheeks warming. "Yes."

***

Belle watched as Peter walked away, weaving through the crowd in the direction that Jem had escaped. She felt terribly for Jem, as it was very obvious how nervous he was in the presence of such a pretty girl as Miss Martin. Belle understood feeling nervous very well.

She was left standing with Grace and Miss Martin, whose mother flanked her closely behind. Belle met the brown eyed gaze of Miss Martin. She was terribly young, and Belle could sense sadness within her.

Belle would have offered her some word of comfort, but she felt a little intimidated by Mrs Martin, who appeared quite domineering. Belle was unsure if she would have wanted someone like her to be speaking to her daughter. Belle acted with precaution and merely offered Miss Martin a kind smile.

Miss Martin returned the gesture.

"Is not that the way of gentleman nowadays, Your Grace? Always hurrying about one way or another!" Mrs Martin laughed to herself. "When do you suppose your brothers will return?"

"I am certain they will not be long," replied Grace. At that moment, Adam joined her, gently claiming Grace's arm for his own.

"Do pardon me, ladies, but the duchess had promised me this dance." As Adam spoke, Belle heard the music change, and the couples began to gather for the next dance. Adam led Grace away, which prompted Mrs Martin to reclaim her daughter's arm.

Mrs Martin began to pull Miss Martin away, and as she did, she turned over her shoulder and said, "Your dress is beautiful by the way, Miss Desjardins."

Belle was so flattered by the compliment that she couldn't find the English words quickly enough to reply before Miss Martin had disappeared into the crowd.

Belle was alone, as Mrs Denham had gone to sit down on one of the chairs at the edge of the ballroom, and she was joined by Cecily, who had apparently left the vicar.

It was suddenly very daunting standing alone. Though the ballroom was filled with hundreds of people, she felt quite isolated, though by the hairs standing up on the back of her neck, she knew she was not invisible. She felt eyes on her. She could see some of them. There were looks of brief admiration, as well as suspicion and uncertainty ... and, of course, there were distasteful and judgemental expressions, but Belle took no heed of those.

Belle turned her attention to the dancers, ignoring the feeling of being watched. She looked on as the couples jumped and twirled jovially to the upbeat melody of the song. Adam and Grace danced happily in and amongst them, looking just like every other cheerful couple, and not the highest-ranking pair for miles.

Belle had become so distracted by the dancers that she had not realised that she was no longer alone. She felt a large hand on the small of her back and she jumped half a mile in the air.

"I'm sorry!" exclaimed Peter apologetically. "I did not realise that you had not seen me approach."

Belle placed a hand on her chest as she caught her breath. "It is alright. I was ... dreaming in the day ... I think is the English word."

Peter grinned. "I think I prefer it your way," he mused. "I set Jem straight. Poor boy was in a state. If you look over there," Peter pointed into the crowd, "he should be asking her to dance right about now."

Belle stood up on her toes. She did not have a terrific view, but she could just make out the top of Jem's head. She would have to take Peter's word for it.

"But enough delaying. Shall we dance?"

Belle had never had such a terrific time in her life. For the first time ever she forgot about everything, anything that could take her mind from being happy in the present. She didn't think about her past. She didn't think about what anyone else was whispering. She paid no heed to anyone but Peter, who was looking upon her with such affection that Belle feared she might melt every time she met his gaze.

Though she had been learning, she had not mastered every dance, which gave her and Peter the opportunity to still invent some steps together. This time it did not embarrass her. Belle laughed.

Save for a few rest breaks, Belle danced every dance with Peter, and was quite thoroughly exhausted near the end of the program. She had certainly worn through her shoes, and she was positive that some of her hair had come loose from the pins, as she could feel her curls bouncing.

"I can't breathe!" Belle panted as they finished the quadrille.

"Come with me," Peter urged, as he took Belle's hand and pulled her through the crowd. Belle followed him into the refreshment room, before he expertly, and subtly, led them outside into the chilly night air.

Belle inhaled deeply, filling her lungs. She wore no coat, and in that moment, she did not need one as she had been dancing vigorously. The cold air felt pleasant against her skin. She and Peter were around the side of the assembly hall. In the distance, and illuminated in the moonlight, Belle could see the carriages and the horses belonging to the attendees inside.

They stood in a small garden that consisted of a stretch of lawn, shrubbery, trees and a stone bench that appeared black in the night.

"Will you sit with me?"

"Yes," answered Belle, and they sat down together on the bench.

Peter took hold of her hand and squeezed it tightly. "You really are the beauty of the garden."

It took Belle a moment to realise what he was saying before she understood his reference to her name. She smiled bashfully. "It is dark. You cannot see me properly."

"Hogwash," he said teasingly. "I can see you just fine."

Belle's smile became a grin. "I do not like that pig word, you know," she jested.

"I call hogwash on that, as well." Peter laughed.

When he quietened, Belle sensed a change in him. She sensed it in her chest, and in her stomach as her nerves began to rise.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" Peter's voice was thick, and no louder than a whisper.

"I have been looking forward to this night for weeks," replied Belle, nodding. "I have loved every moment."

Peter lifted the hand that was he was holding, and with the other, he began to run his index finger over her knuckles gently. Belle was suddenly glad for her gloves, as Peter could not feel the goosepimples which now covered her skin.

"I am so proud of you, you know," Peter uttered, still tracing. "I loved every one of your letters. Thank you so much for writing to me."

Belle's heart swelled as she heard his sincerity. She had tried so hard to write him good letters. She had pored over them for hours to write and spell as well as she could. She had wanted to say so much more, but she didn't know how. Hearing that Peter appreciated her letters meant a great deal to her.

"There is something that I have been wanting to do ... if you will let me ... if you want to ..."

Peter's hand lifted to her chin, and he gently lifted her face towards his. Belle's heart quickened when she realised what he wanted from her, but there was no forcefulness. He did not lead her any further. He waited. He was waiting for her permission, for her to decide that it was safe.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

For how long had those words chanted through her brain when she thought of Peter? He was safe, and she was safe with him. She was safe now, no matter what. Belle did not want to wait a moment longer.

As she began to lean forward to close the distance between them, Peter fell off of the bench, taking Belle down with him as he landed on top of her. It took Belle a moment to realise that she'd heard an almighty thud.

It took her eyes a moment to focus from the shock to realise that they were no longer alone in the garden. Peter was unconscious, and someone had struck him. As Belle sucked in a breath, filling her lungs so that she could scream, a rag was placed over her mouth, and she fell into the darkness completely.

-----

Sorrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. 

And yet, totally not sorry ;)

Poor Belle and Peter. I'm just innately evil, I can't help it!

But we witnessed the beginning of Jem and Cressie's story ... sorta. It will of course hit a lil different when it's told from their perspectives. Ahhhh once again I'm so excited for them. This was the beginning of a VERY BUMPY MOUNTAINOUS CAVERNOUS ROCK SLIDE ROAD. Can't wait :)

Happy New Year, friends! I hope your celebrations were safe and warm. 

Now, I'm gonna have to let you suffer for a little while ... because I'm going to Adelaide for a few days! This is my first trip on a plane since pre-pandemic. I've had that many trips cancelled and my family are all surprising my grandparents as my grandad turned 80 last November (borders were closed so we couldn't go interstate then). I fly home on Thursday so I'll update then!

Or maybe I'm lying and I just wanna let you sweat for a little bit?

Hmm we'll never know ..

Vote and comment xxx