'Of Decadence and Desire...'

Madame Celeste Arielle Doubaillier had already carefully calculated the effect she would have on her guests as she glided down the burgundy carpeted spiral staircase. She had certainly dressed for the occasion with her blue satin gown, earrings dripping emeralds, gold ring indented with a ruby the size of a small walnut, not to mention the matching diamond tiara and necklace. All of which proud family heirlooms. As she had expected, all eyes in the large hallway were on her: the richest spinster in gaie Paris.

Ladies and gentlemen respectfully gave way for her as she joined the throng, and she demurely accepted a flute of champagne from one of the attendants. As Celeste made her greetings, her attention came to rest on a young man standing alone by the old grandfather clock. He had the dark, roguish good looks of a gypsy, an earring visible from his mass of tawny curls. Celeste proceeded to make small talk with her company, but her interest remained on the young man. She felt captivated by the deep, hazel eyes that quietly watched her. Her mind strayed from the topic of conversation, and she licked her top lip as she began to toy with more lascivious thoughts.

Celeste politely brushed her entourage aside, and approached the dark stranger. "Hello. I do not believe that we have met," she said.

The man bowed his head. "Madame. My name is Dorian Deviel, nephew of Doctor Laurence Deviel. I have been a great admirer of yours for some time," he replied, a hint of rustic dialect in his voice.

"Well. I did not know that Laurence had such a handsome nephew," Celeste said, eyeing him appreciatively.

As they talked, Celeste was aware of the envious glances she was getting from some of the other younger women. She smiled inwardly. She had not lost her charm over men. Deviel was looking at her in admiration, hanging on her every word. She had him where she wanted him.

Celeste waited for the right moment, and then crooked her finger at her hapless captive. "Follow me," she said into her ear. "We will go somewhere more quiet."

She led him to a side room, taking care that their exit from the hallway was unobserved. Inside the room was a large, velvet divan on which Celeste reclined seductively, thrusting her ample chest outwards.

She looked up at the younger man, satisfied with the look of undisguised desire on his face. "Come on. I know what you want. Take it!" she gasped, provocatively.

Deviel needed no more persuasion, and jumped on top of her, grabbing her arm, and pushing her face down against the divan.

"Oh yes. Be rough!" she cried.

But, much to the utter vexation of Madame Celeste, Deviel simply pulled off her ring, then her earrings, and then her necklace and tiara. Before she could gather her wits Deviel had vanished, and she was alone again, stripped of her jewels and her dignity.

Celeste sat still for a moment, taking a deep breath and gathering her thoughts. Even if the thief was not caught, those stones were insured for a hefty sum, she consoled herself. A half-smile slowly crept back onto her face. And then, there was another young man that she had noticed earlier...