Part 2

When he arrived at the door of the mystery woman's estate, a German style schloss, he immediately recognized the owner's character in its architecture: practical, not flamboyant; grounded and sturdy, not facetious and delicate. A middle-aged woman, obviously a servant, greeted them at the large, intricately carved oaken doors. She was a stern little woman with graying hair, and her only greeting was a nod of her head and the word, "Come." The guards made to enter with their captive, hoping for some wine and hospitality, but the woman pointed her finger at them. "Here now, my mistress won't have you in her estate no more. Not after last time your like was here. Go on, then."

Grumbling to themselves, the guards left Clopin with the old bat.

Once inside, Clopin immediately felt ill-at-ease. Normally if he was anywhere near such a place as this, it was because he and his band were making an attempt at robbery. He did have to admit, looking at the ornamentation and the valuables in plenty, his fingers itched to snatch something away. But he would wait to do that. The serving woman was none too trusting and seemed like she had the eyes of a hawk. After traveling up a grand staircase, they eventually stopped at a door. "My mistress awaits you beyond this door."

Clopin nodded and was reaching for the latch when the old woman suddenly placed a forceful hand in his chest. "Mark me, gypsy," she whispered threateningly. "If you so much as harm a hair on her head, yours will be on a chopping block faster than you can say 'ingrate.'" He was not afraid of her, but he noted her none the less.

Once inside, his hostess was no where immediately to be found. He found himself in her boudoir, a rich bed dressed with silks from the Orient. The momentary idea of making love on a bed like that gave him that lovely stirring of anticipation in his belly. He removed his gauntlets and had set about touring the room, when he heard the voice of his hostess from behind him. "I'm glad to see you've come." She wore a large, flowing silk robe of green. Her hair was bundled on the sides of her head in thick braids, and a red and gold circlet was wrapped about her forehead.

He smiled. "You left me little choice."

"As a matter of fact I did. It's merely that one option has conditions."

He approached with a slight swagger, which made him no less charming. "And what conditions, may I ask, are there for being your lover?"

Her eyes clouded momentarily with lust. "Only that you come to me. And perhaps avoid stealing my possessions."

"Aha. And when am I to come to you? How? Like a dog that runs when he's called?"

"I rather suspect you are more like a cat than a dog. A cat will only give respect to the call that has earned it…or one must tempt it with something agreeable…But I have no design on making you a slave to my word, Clopin. It would take away too much of your appeal."

He leaned lazily against a dresser and perused the treasures upon it with disinterest. "What manner of appeal you see in me, Lady, I am most curious."

She gazed at him in thought as he grinned at her. He was looking for flattery, but he would get the truth. "You have a freedom which I lack. I must follow the laws of virtue, or at least appear to do so, lest I suffer my husband's abandonment and therefore all that I have."

"And yet you have brought me to your bed."

"I freed you from your imprisonment, and you will free me from mine."

He laughed. "And such a prison! A German castle with all finery from all over the earth? You would trade it for a gypsy's life?"

"Perhaps not. But my will is strong and I am forbidden to exercise it. You know as much as you might enjoy this security and comfort, you would never trade it for your freedom to behave and be as you wish. A life of virtue is as much a prison as stone walls if one is not suited for it."

"And you are not?"

"If my husband knew half the thoughts in my head, he'd call me a libertine and have me excommunicated."

Her eyes were positively alive, as if she'd been wishing for years to say aloud who she truly was, and Clopin couldn't help finding her refreshing. His smirk reached his eyes as he drew close, placing his hands on her waist. "In that case, ma cherie, you could have chosen no better man to free you from virtue."

There was a moment of stillness and then the Baroness gently clasped the back of his head and pulled him into a blood-pounding kiss. When she finally released him, the two of them panting, she went to a door to the next room. "Come," she beckoned. And like a cat having caught a whiff of something very agreeable, come he did.