The next day

September 25, 1886
Upper Manhattan West
Cabanela residence
2 P.M.

My mouth dropped open in surprise when Mr. Murdoch pulled the carriage into the drive of Mr. Cabanela's home, the horses trotting briskly. My eyes widened to see the large expanse of trees that lined either side of the cobblestoned driveway as we swept on past and I had to remember to keep a firm hand on my satchel lest it spill out all over the carriage floor.

I was amazed at the beauty that flashed before my eyes but I was in for an even bigger surprise when we approached the main house itself. I was stunned by the sheer size of it as it spread out over the large lawn that seemed to cover an acre or more of the immediate property, with flower beds, fountains here and there gurgling happily with beautiful water music and a maze that led into a beautiful garden complete with a garden path laid out in multicolored stepping stones.

Whoever had designed this had-and I really couldn't help but wonder if it was by someone I knew-the artist's eye. I could definitely appreciate the natural beauty as it went by me.

I enjoyed the trip immensely and was sorry to see it end when we arrived at the carriage house where five servants waited silently for our arrival. Mr. Murdoch pulled the horses to a stop with a soft "whoa there." They danced in place for a moment or two and then stood still, not a muscle moving.

"Mr. Jowd?" The tall thin butler dressed in impeccable black stepped forward, taking the knob on the carriage door and twisting it, pulling it open in one fluid motion and then stepped back as the footman pulled down the steps so I could alight from the carriage.

"Yes?" I was struggling a little with the large satchel I carried with me that held my art supplies until a large man stepped forward, also dressed in impeccable black like the butler and the other three servants that stood there with them, extending his hand. I handed it over to him with a grateful smile and he nodded, the ghost of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips as he turned and walked into the carriage house, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor until he was lost to sight.

"The Master is expecting you in the main house," the butler explained, his brown eyes twinkling, "and he has personally asked me to escort you into the receiving room." He stepped aside as I gingerly lit on the ground from the carriage, smoothing out the wrinkles in my black overcoat resulting from the half hour trip. I had to admit that it was definitely an interesting method of getting around but also a very comfortable one, too.

I could get used to this. I grinned at the thought as I followed the butler, stopping every few feet to gape in amazement at the beautiful rooms that we passed through. The butler noticed and smiled slightly but made no comment as we went through the main house, through the parlor and into what I assumed was the receiving room.

The butler indicated a seat across from a small coffee table laden with refreshments and I sat, my eyes widening at the delicious assortment that lay spread on the table before me on three silver platters along with a silver tea service that lay off to the side and a coffee urn that sparkled in the overhead light.

A young maid stepped forward and curtsied. "Would you care for some coffee or tea, Sir?"

"Coffee, please." I waited while she picked up the coffee urn and poured me a cup into the china coffee cup that she had placed before me. I watched as the dark brew poured from its silver spout and filled the cup to the brim; she smiled and stepped back, offering me one of the silver platters of baked goods that looked tantalizingly good from where I was sitting.

I took two pastries and set one on a plate that was sitting on the table in front of me. I bit into the one I held in my hand, closing my eyes in pleasure as lemon and orange flavors burst out over my tongue in a pleasurable symphony of taste. I couldn't help but moan with the deliciousness of it all; I wasn't sure exactly what kind of pastry it was but, whatever it may have been, there was no denying that it tasted like a little slice of heaven. It was something that I had never tasted before in my life and I couldn't repress the small moan of pleasure I made as I ate it, enjoying every delicious bite.

The maid looked pleased and she nodded with satisfaction when I reached over and cadged two more of those little pastries, putting them on my plate. She inclined her head in a respectful bow that I returned if somewhat awkwardly and took her leave a few moments later, her face wreathed in smiles. I couldn't imagine why she was smiling like that but I reasoned that Mr. Cabanela was a good Master to her and his other servants alike; if there was one thing that I had noticed about Mr. Cabanela's household servants, it was that they were all happy.

That stands to reason, I thought as I took another bite, chewing happily before I picked up my coffee cup and took a sip of the steaming brew. He seems like a good Master; how did I feel when he insisted that he send his driver over for me to come pick me up? He didn't have to do that but yet he did. That really tells you all you need to know about him.

This was certainly a new event. Most of the other wealthy patrons I worked for treated their servants abominably and they often wondered out loud to me when I was working on their portraits why they gave their notice. I ached to tell them the reason but I held my tongue; if they couldn't figure out it was the very poor way that they treated them, I wasn't about to tell them.

I killed time waiting for Mr. Cabanela to arrive by looking around the receiving room and I was struck dumb with amazement at what I saw and how beautiful it was: the beautifully soft cream colored walls, lush red carpeting, the oak doors that led into the main part of the house, the beautiful bookshelves that lined one side of the room with the rich leather books that filled them, the circular staircase that led to the upper floor and what I assumed to be either a study or library with its rich cherrywood bannister that snaked its way upward; the black-and-white tiled marble floor; the many beautiful paintings that lined the walls on all four sides, the crystal lamps that stood on two tables at opposite sides of the room... all in all, it was a beautiful and serene place and I couldn't help but wonder who it was that had helped him to put together such an impressive, room. I felt very comfortable here and I was sure that was the intent: to put his guests at ease. What a marvelous way to do it!

I finished my pastry and coffee just as the mahogany grandfather clock chimed two thirty in the far corner of the room. I dusted my hands off and waited for my client's arrival, my hands lying on my thighs. I assumed that Mr. Cabanela was very busy today since I had been waiting here for a half hour already but he had seen fit to have refreshments and coffee or tea ready for me since he had to have known at some point that he would be late.

What a fine gentleman, I thought with admiration as I looked around the room again, how thoughtful, courteous and kind he is! I couldn't help but smile. I'm certainly going to enjoy this job! What a wonderful way to start!

He did arrive a few moments later and I was starteld out of my reverie to see him loping in that peculiar, but very attractive walk of his, through the door and the dazzling smile he bestowed on me was enough to make me blush.

He chuckled. "I'm sooory I'm late," he began, gliding over to where I stood looking after him mutely. "I haaad other business to attend tooo and it toook me longer than I expected to complete." He tilted his head to the right and I could feel my heart start to beat faster as he did so, his brown eyes shining. "I trust that you were well taaaken care of by my staff while you waited for me to complete my busssiness?"

I nodded, swallowing hard a few times since my throat suddenly felt tight "Yes. They were very kind and attentive, thank you."

His eyes flickered over to the small coffee table and back to me again. "I taaake it you enjoyed yooour repast?"

"I did, indeed! The pastries were wonderful and quite delicious." I found myself blushing. "I enjoyed them very much and have never tasted anything like them before."

"My cook is a French pastry chef that has wooorked some of the finest restaurants in the wooorld." He was very pleased at my reaction. "I shall tell him that yooou enjoyed his lemon pastries; he will be very pleased, I'm certain."

I couldn't help it. I blushed pink with pleasure. For some reason, the lilt in his voice seemed much... softer than it had the first time he had come into my abode the day before. I couldn't really account for the change but shrugged it off as being of no consequence; I was here to do a job and I would do so.

The fact that he had come to my place of business instead of the other establishments in Upper Manhattan spoke volumes; I prided myself on being able to turn a very good piece of work and it had made my reputation among the quality.

"At any rate," he continued, tilting his head slightly to the right, "am I right to expect that yooou will want to start wooork as soon as possible?"

I nodded, not being able to speak. For some reason, his closeness was intoxicating and I had to pointedly remind myself to breathe. Again. I was starting to become concerned over the lapses of emotion; I couldn't understand why this was even happening. I'd never had anything like this with any of my other clients before so what was it about Mr. Cabanela that reduced me to an emotional mess?

You really need to get a grip, Jowd, I told myself sternly as Mr. Cabanela stood there watching me in silence, the corners of his mouth twitching with undisguised amusement, and the sooner you can do that, the better. This is the best commission you could have ever received and I sure as hell don't want to mess that up!

After many moments of an uneasy silence, Mr. Cabanela smiled at me and I swore that my insides melted which was an even more surprising reaction than the previous ones had been. I still couldn't figure out what on earth was going on or even why I was feeling like I was but I shrugged and pushed the matter from my mind, concentrating on the job at hand.

I gave my head a shake, throwing off the cobwebs that seemed to be infecting my brain.

"If there is nothing else that you wish to discuss at this time," I said, standing up abruptly and Mr. Cabanela seemed a little taken aback at first but quickly regained his composure, "I would like to get started." I looked around the room. "Is there anywhere that you wish me to work: perhaps a side room, an atrium or another place?"

He thought for a moment and I had to tell my insides very sternly to behave. I wished I knew where all this was coming from... It was becoming a problem and the last thing I wanted was for it to become more of a problem than I could handle which would mean the end of this commission. Come what may, I didn't want that to happen. I was just at a loss as to how I could make that happen since it seemed that my insides turned to mush whenever he was close to me.

"There is a place near the back that wooould be perfect for what you require," he said at last. "It's a small, brightly lit room to the side of the garden. I usually dooon't go in there but it is perfect fooor yooour needs."

I smiled. "Thank you very much, Mr. Cabanela," I replied, following as he turned and began to glide out of the room. "I do appreciate your kindess and consideration."

He smiled, bowing slightly form the waist. "It is my pleasuuure. Now-" here he indicated a door - "if you would fooollow me, I will take you to the room I mentioned." He looked back at me as I followed him into the hallway. "Your gear is already seeet up and we can begin immeeediately, if you wish."

I brightened. "I would! Thank you!"

He didn't say another word the rest of the way and even when we entered the room; he merely walked over to the lounging chair that had been placed specifically there for that purpose, sliding into it with such liquid grace that I couldn't help staring. He merely grinned at me, immediately setting me at ease as I picked up my canvas and charcoal and, my tongue between my teeth, I began to roughly sketch him.

We would have many a day to come for the next six months to be in each others presence and I was to find that I enjoyed his company immensely. He was not only kind and thoughtful but a shrewd businessman who had a droll sense of humor and a down-to-earth view of himself. My admiration for him grew as each day passed and I found myself, more and more, wanting to spend every possible moment he could spare from his business dealings; to my surprise, he didn't seem to mind and made sure that every moment he was not engaged in his day to day affairs he spent in my company.

Little did I know then that this was only the beginning and that my life, and his, would be inextricably linked from that day on.