Music Soothes the Savage Beast
By Linnet
He sat at the roll top desk and pondered over the clutter, poking ever so often at some of the old, yellow-stained envelopes. Perhaps he should clean this up really. He didn't require what "staff" was on the premises, if you could call them that, to go through and clean everything. Besides this was really a job for a Master of the Estate. What a peculiar title for him since it held really no meaning in the space of an existence. His double yellow iris eyes scanned the room. Phantomhive had had good taste. The mansion itself was elegant and extremely spacious, almost too much domicile for one former shinigami, and a staff of four. Nonetheless, Vincent had been a friend, and to that matter so had his son. Shame what happened with Ciel, but then when you bargain with that crew the price is always very high. The great part about an existence is the thrill of choices and risks.
He turned back to shift some of the yellowed papers on the desk in some sort of a pile and the neatly closed down the roll top lid with a smart snap. It was time to see what that bumbling group of humans called a staff was up to. Oh, the Tanaka fellow seemed to have sense, but was really too up in years to be of much use. He was more of a Phantomhive historian than anything else. It reminded him to check with Will to see what date old Tanaka was due. Moving rather quickly, the Undertaker got up, and moved across the room towards the door just as it started to open.
"Master, you have a visitor," this came from from Mey-Rin. "It is the young Miss, Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford."
The Undertaker merely nodded, "Very well Mey-Rin. Show her up here to these offices, and try to be as careful as you can." He smirked knowing full well that in the course of going back to the great hall the maid would fall down at least three times. Pity she didn't want to take those glasses off, but he understood the story behind it.
He crossed back over to the musty desk and seated himself. Since these offices had been closed off while Ciel had presided in the home, thousands of cobwebs, dust, and other such neglect icons left their mark. He had a fondness for it however because of the era of furniture…it took him back to a time when things were very different indeed.
Lizzie swept into the room, wearing a beautiful black taffeta day dress, replete with white lace trimmings and a black rose band gracing her golden hair. She had since lost the ponytails and had an air of a more grown up young person, belieing her 16 years.
With a flourished courtesy she flopped down on the main settee in the room, a little poof of a dust cloud wafted up, "Oh dear! Doesn't your staff ever dust Master Undertaker?" Curious emerald eyes tilted to the right as she peered at the tall Undertaker.
"Alas, madam, I find it best to keep them to the immediate daily chores at hand. This room is used very little, but I have a little affectation about it" he sighed and smiled. He touched the brim of his rather dilapidated top hat with a gloved hand. So many had inquired why he did not exchange it for a proper hat; however this chapeau had a great deal of history and memories with it…and a sad day at the docks of the Thames River. The Undertaker sighed.
"Why so great a sigh, Master Undertaker. If anything it should be I that sighs in such a manner," Lizzie said with such a forlorn face. If he only knew. Maybe he understands how I'm feeling?….but she shook her head and dismissed the thought. Time to bring that up a bit later. "Master Undertaker I wonder if you would care to examine an item I have brought. My, uhm, Mother had purchased this in a curio shop and thought it quaint. However, for me it seems different somehow. It's beautiful but for some reason I'm fearful of it."
What had the little wench gone and done now? The Undertaker sensed that something was amiss. Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford had taken to dropping on him unannounced, and with increased frequency ever since Ciel had last seen her; that had been about 2 years ago. She too, as had the Undertaker, received a little black box on the day the young lord left, but she passionately refused to open hers saying that she feared it would mean a darker and more dreadful event. Little did she know how right she had been. All Ciel had told her in their last day was that he freed her from the obligation of becoming his wife, and that she was at liberty to have a Season. Lizzie had protested vehemently, however Ciel had stopped her saying that he had gone through many changes since his parents had died. He stated that he and Sebastian would be departing for other parts of the world to primarily go on exploration journeys. He said he had no further interest in any other woman and that Lizzie had been his ideal. While that made her feel a tiny bit better, something seemed off. But before she could protest much further he launched into yet another dance and they danced all evening; while he was handsome, he nonetheless was dressed in all black (what a yucky color!) and her in orange sherbet. That was the last day…..tears stood in her eyes thinking about him; the play kisses they gave each other as children…it hurt so bad. It was hard to believe 2 years had passed.
The Undertaker seeing the imminent path of this conversation and the warning signs immediately turned the situation around, "Miss Elizabeth how is it that this item seems different? What exactly IS this thing?" He started to laugh now, his odd little laugh. What a charming young thing.
"It's a music box! See here!" With a flourish she produced out of a soft ermine bag, a cylindrical music box, with a gold filigree basket on the lower half holding a clear glass tube to end with a golden dome pinnacle hinged at the lid. "I haven't opened it yet because Mother said I musn't."
"And why is that my dear?" This sentence purred out of his lips. Today Elizabeth seemed to just captivate him. Why today of all days? Wasn't she just a silly child? He thought a moment more. No…he was becoming quite taken with this little miss. Well she wasn't really little any longer. By Society standards she was fully a young woman and with a Season in a few months and would be married soon. This gave the Undertaker pause for thought.
Lizzie had noticed a rather peculiar expression on the Undertaker's face. What a mystery Master Undertaker is…and exciting somehow! She understood him though. The Undertaker had a tragic air about him, one that he covered well with laughter. Some found the chortling creepy and even sinister at times. She, however, always found him charming. Ciel had always placed great trust and faith, and she knew that he had worked with the Phantomhives a very long time. She once had thought to ask him his age, but that of course was just not done. It would seem calculating and impolite. Still…he was….
The Undertaker continued to watch with amusement as she seemed to be daydreaming and looking at him. Ha! Such fun! "Come, Elizabeth my dear, what does this trinket have that gives it such intrinsic value?"
Lizzie snapped out of her reverie, "Oh! Well! It's magic! Or," she frowned a bit thinking over the history of the music box, "at least it seems so! Would you like me to tell you?"
"Certainly, it would be my delight and a wonderful afternoon's diversion." It was at this point Mey-Rin came in and managed quite well not to spill the tea and scones. He looked to the rather befuddled maid, "Mey-Rin, see that Miss Elizabeth and I are not disturbed the rest of the afternoon. She has an item of great value, and is going to tell a tale."
"Very good, Master" and turned to leave only to trip on her way out, "With your permission Master, I am so sorry and will take my leave."
The Undertaker shook his head, but Lizzie, as the door closed, erupted in to peels of tinkling laughter, "She is sooo funny! I absolutely love Mey-Rin."
Laughing as well he said, "I also find her amusing. But. Now. To this mysterious and all-consuming tale." Odd that music box seemed familiar somehow. It tugged at the back of his mind but then he had been alive for many, many…well, never mind that now.
She smiled and clapped her gloved hands together slightly. " I'll be happy to tell you about Miss Josette's music box! Well what I know of it! Mother told me...well actually I overheard mother when she was talking to a distant cousin of the Collinsworth family. It was another boring party, and I do hate those! But this story sounded so interesting!" Her eyes gleamed and her voice went down to a bit of a whisper, "Well," she said in a conversational tone," Miss Josette had a grand love of her life, Master Bernard Collinsworth. Miss Josette's name was actually Miss Josette Winters at the time. The two fell hopelessly in love and on the day before they were supposed to wed, Master Bernard presented her with that," she gestured with her petite gloved hand towards the music box. "Miss Josette opened the box, and danced grandly, for it is said she was the most graceful and elegant of all ladies in England. She was originally from France, and so she spoke with a bit of an accent. It was that lilting voice of hers that Bernard fell in love with. The music box is said to have contained the music of the dance that the couple's first danced to together." Then her face fell ever so slightly with sadness, "But alas, their love was not meant to be completed. It is unknown but rumored the Bernard fell to a terrible and incurable illness and was sent away to the Americas. Some say a darker curse was upon him. It stormed the night Bernard left, and trying to chase to the docks to stop him, Josette slipped falling into the cruel murky waters of the Thames. Since she could not swim against such a current, she was pulled down with the undertow, and perished. I'm sure you've heard by the launch docks the place called Widows Leap?" She tilted her head a bit in askance, but soon her eyes teared up at the story, "Bernard received the message of Josette's demise shortly after arriving to the Americas and it is here where the music box gets its legend. It was said that fateful day that Bernard placed a curse on the box so that whatever young lady shall listen to the music will dance as in Josette's time. Only the true spirit of Josette can hear the music and not fall to the curse. Only then will Bernard be reunited with his Josette...through their love of their song." She sniffed back a bit; she loved a good love story. She turned to the Master Undertaker, "So what do you think of this strange and tragic tale, Sir? Do curses really exist?"
