3. Chapter 3 (1/2)
dear reader: so, now, there is a twist to this story. at this point, mademoiselle emmanuelle has met grantaire and enjolras, two of the members of what will become les amis de l'abc. it does seem that monsieur grantaire has taken quite a fancy to emmanuelle javert…
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december 31, 1830…..pontmercy mansion
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"papa, come on….it's for marius. he is one of my best friends," emmanuelle insisted, tying her hair back with a white ribbon. "it is only one party. one night. do you really have to come?"
"yes, i do," javert replied, stone-faced as ever. "i will go to ensure that you do not engage in improper activities." what he meant to say, or, at least, the subliminal message that he was sending was, you can't go near men without me there to send them off running with their tails between their legs and their belts around their waists.
emmanuelle's face scrunched up. "papa! marius….i….we….no. just no. we would never even think of it! marius is too much like my big
other for me to ever even start to think of the prospect of...that."
"all the same, i think i should attend just in case," javert settled. and when javert settled, emmanuelle knew that the discussion was over.
she once again sighed as she put the single white-feather plume into her hair, pinning it in place with a crystal clip that had once belonged to her mother. stepping back and glancing at herself in the glass, full-body mirror, she asked, "how do i look, papa?"
"perfect," javert answered. it was true. her
own hair was curled up in a bun, which she had pinned up on the top of her head. three white feathers were pinned into the top of the bun, and they were stuck into place by a small crystal barrette. her grey eyes were shadowed by accents of white eye shadow, and her lips were painted a very faint but lovely shade of pink. emmanuelle's dress was modest, white, pure, and, even though some may have called it prudish, it was very lovely and complemented her shapely figure nicely. javert had made quite sure that the neckline was high enough so that her sizeable cleavage was not visible. he most certainly did not need a young man seeing her bosom and trying something that would get his neck wrung in javert's leather-gloved hands. "just like your mother….."
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"emmanuelle! you came!" marius smiled as he came up to stand next to emmanuelle. "i didn't think you would!"
emmanuelle grinned as well, the light of the great crystal chandelier reflecting off of her steely eyes and hairpin. "you knew i would, marius. you're one of my best friends in the whole world."
marius laughed. he knew it was true. after emmanuelle's father, javert, had come on business with monsieur gillenormand, marius' grandfather, and
ought emmanuelle, they had been closer than two fleurs-de-lis flowers. they had constantly been playing together, learning together, growing together, and, when marius had gone to go to the university recently, emmanuelle had supported him even though she yearned to be able to smell the crispness of the schoolroom books, and to run her hands over the stone columns of university hall. "come, you must meet my friends!" he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and dragging her to a table in the corner. around it were gathered nine young men, most of whom were grasping a crystal chalice filled with-oh, who would guess?-alcohol. new year's eve was always the night of the drunkards, and this year appeared as if it would be no different.
"emmanuelle, meet my friends!" marius cried with a sweeping, circular gesture to the men around the table. "this is bahorel, combeferre, courfeyrac, enjolras…."
"we've met," emmanuelle interjected. "nice to see you again, monsieur." enjolras offered a quaint nod.
"-like i was saying….there's also feuilly, jean prouvaire….we call him jehan, joly, bossuet, and grantaire," marius introduced.
grantaire.
he was just as juliet remembered: messy and drunk, but still, in a strange, convoluted way, enchanting and mysterious. "monsieur," she murmured, curtsying politely.
the man who was-according to marius' testimony-courfeyrac slid over to emmanuelle's side, slithering a hand around her slender waist. "mademoiselle," he grinned cheekily and in a distinct mixture of an irish, french, and cockney accents, "would you like to….oh, i don't know….visit the upstairs with me?" his
eath smelled of a mixture of booze and whiskey, flushing unpleasantly into her face and making her cringe. obviously, he was drunk….and very, very, very drunk at that point of the nighttime.
emmanuelle set a serious face. "you should know beforehand….i do not swallow."
the group of men, all except for enjolras and marius, burst into a roar of laughter and mirth. grantraire fell over the table and spilled his drink on bossuet, who groaned and shrieked, "i told you i was unlucky! i did, i did, i did!" and, as a result, the laughter's fervor only increased to a greater level of intensity. she withdrew a clean linen handkerchief and handed it to bossuet, who dabbed it eagerly at his shirt."there's promise for this one yet," grantaire announced, raising his bottle to her in a toast. "there is, i can tell!"
"emmanuelle?" a voice asked behind her, tapping her shoulder gently. she turned around and came face-to-face with inspector javert.
"yes?" she asked. "is everything alright?"
javert turned as red as the wine that was in grantaire's bottle, and he stammered and searched in his mind for a response. "um….i….i….wantedyoutomeetmycolleaguebecauseheisag oodman… hissonisasinglebachelorandiwasthinkingofyoutwocour tingsomedayisn'tthatanicethought? soithinkitwouldbeagoodideaifyouwouldcomewithmelike rightnowsolet'sgoplease," he rushed, running his words together as he dragged his daughter off by the dress sleeve. emmanuelle shot a helpless glance back at her newfound friends as she was dragged into what she knew was an excuse to keep her away from men. not like he could…she was going to spend the night at marius' grandfather's house. she was not a young lady anymore, and she hadn't been for a few years.
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