XI.
Though it was an early Saturday morning, he already rushed up and down the corridors of the main house. Firstly, he prepared the breakfast – omelette du fromage with bacon, and tea; a typical French meal with English taste; then he gave orders to the rest of the servants. After that he took up with his duties as a butler – serving the breakfast, polishing the silver cutlery, coordinating the housework. With the years this had become an empty (and rather boring) daily routine for him.
Sometime around noon he looked at his small, golden pocket-watch. It showed 20 minutes to twelve. Usually at this time he would go down to the kitchen to instruct the cook about today's lunch menu, but he headed to the staircase, which leaded to rooms on the second floor instead. As he passed through the main hall, he suddenly stopped. He sensed a presence in the premise and looked around. His slightly reddish eyes stopped on the womanly figure, which was sitting in the arm-chair next to the fireplace.
The flaming logs were burning slowly, giving out quiet cracks. The light from the fire added a soft glow to her pale skin. The edges of long dark dress touched slightly the expensive, Persian carpet. She had cast a richly decorated with floral motives stole over her shoulders. As usual a dark ribbon was tied around her neck.
He stepped up to her. For his surprise he noticed, that she was holding a small toy in her hands – a porcelain doll. Except for the many patches on the doll's dress he admitted that the toy was in state of good preservation. She was observing quietly the doll's face. It seemed to him, that they were holding a silent conversation with their empty eyes; a conversation, which only they could understand. She sighed and broke the silence:
"We are so much alike – the doll and I; aren't we?" she started. "Same porcelain skin, same emotionless face, same glassy eyes…" she paused. "Same emptiness inside."
He took a stand behind the arm-chair. With a questioning voice he said:
"Same emptiness, my lady says. Allow me to disagree. You once said the pitch black void behind your chest is filled with lost memories and broken dreams. They guide you through your own darkness and give you power – the power of revenge." One of the logs in the fire place cracked louder. As hypnotized she moved her gaze on the fire. The dancing flames were reflected in her glassy eyes. He slowly leaned to her and whispered. "What's the feeling to control such a destructive power?"
She remained silent for few moments. Then she heard her own voice resounding in the room – she couldn't control the words she uttered:
"It feels…just like a blazing fire, burning everything in its path…Even myself."
He stepped back, still smiling.
"It's almost noon, milady. The Baron will arrive any time soon."
His words broke the spell, which had enchanted her. She stood up and turned to him.
"Very well. I shall prepare myself. Please, welcome our guest properly."
"As you wish, Mistress." He bowed to her and headed back to the kitchen.
The carriage moved slowly through the narrow, paved London streets. It followed the road with its all turns until it finally reached its goal – the main London Street. The coachman pulled the strings slightly and the horses stopped. The door of the carriage opened and a charming, elegantly dressed man hopped on the pavement. He helped the young lady behind him to get off and turned to the coachman.
"Thank you for the marvelous ride, Michael." Henry said. "Now if you allow me, I shall take away your master for few hours. Be assured, she's in good hands."
Michael took off his cylinder and bowed to the Baron with a smile.
"Wait for us somewhere here." Eileen said.
"As you wish, my lady. Have a pleasant walk." Eileen pinned him with her icy glare.
"Let's go, Duchess Griffin." said Henry with enthusiasm and took her hand under his arm. "See you later, Michael."
They both walked away from the carriage. Michael observed silently as their silhouettes vanished within the crowd. Then he drove the carriage down the street.
London's main street was a lively place – merchants were selling exotic fruits and vegetables, the wives of nobles were storming the boutique stores in order to dress into the latest fashion. Young children were running around, playing various games.
The couple attracted the attention of many. The old ladies began immediately to gossip with each other. It was indeed a rare sight to see the Duchess of Devonshire taking a walk in London, with the young Baron Carpenter at that.
"Pardon me for asking" whispered Henry, "but does your appearance in public attract so much attention each time?"
"You know me Baron; I'm not the out-going type lately."
"Then I'm lucky." Said he with a smile.
"And that's because?" said Eileen with questioning voice.
"Because I succeeded to take you out for a walk."
Eileen smiled slightly.
"At least you helped me to replace the old gossips at the court with new ones."
Henry laughed. They walked down the street and entered a small pastry shop. "Backer's shop" was one of the most famous confectioneries in London. The pastry shop on London Street was just one of the many shops, which were spread throughout England. Because of its central location in the last few years it became famous for the special orders, which the aristocrats made here. And since Henry's ball was a special occasion, a special cake was required - the Baron ordered twelve layered vanilla cake with marzipan decorations. Personally Eileen was against such luxuriance, but the rules of nobility required it.
After the pastry shop the next stop was Madame Loren's Boutique. Henry had to pick up his costume for the ball, which was specially imported from France. Eileen was forced to wait for him forty minutes in the boutique's foyer since the Baron wanted to keep his character for the masquerade in secret. The Duchess began to feel a deep boredom, even though they still had to go about many places still. Eileen could almost see Michael's ironical smile in front of her. She started asking herself, why she agreed to Henry's little tease.
"Eileen?" The Baron's words startled her. "I'm sorry for my delay. I hope I didn't bore you already…"
"Oh, no, it's alright, Henry…"
"I promise, the next stops won't take us so long." Henry smiled. It was such a charming, innocent smile. Eileen couldn't resist and smiled back at him.
The Baron kept his promise. They visited the groceries store to check the food supply; then arranged the new furniture and decorations for the party. When finally even the smallest details around the occasion were arranged, they headed back to the carriage. On the way back they passed by the flower shop of mister Florin – one of the oldest flower shop in England. The Florin family was famous for importing exotic flowers from all over the world. Eileen stopped in front of it.
"Henry, do you mind if we take a look?" said she. Henry looked at her, then cried out.
"What a fantastic idea, Eileen!" answered Henry. "I never thought of floral decorations for the party. I knew it was the right choice to take you with me today, Duchess."
As they entered the shop, a small bell above the door rang. The aroma of hundreds of flowers embraced the customers. Eileen looked around – exotic representatives of the flora surrounded her. Such a colourful fairy-scene of beauty!
"Good day!" a man's voice said. Somewhere behind the many leaves and blossom there was a small desk. A friendly old man was standing behind it, smiling softly at the couple.
"Mister Florin! Long time no see." Henry greeted cheerfully.
"Lord Carpenter. And the young lady – could it be? Duchess Griffin! It's an honour!" He bowed to them and kissed Eileen's hand. "How can I serve you?"
"I've come with a special request, mister Florin. You see I'm organizing a party and I'd like to buy some floral decoration for it. What can you offer me?"
"Ah, decoration for a special occasion, I see." Mister Florin turned and opened the door to the backroom. "Please, Baron, follow me. Here I keep some of my unique species."
Henry turned to Eileen.
"Are you coming?"
"I'd rather take a look around here. Some flowers had already caught my attention."
Henry nodded and disappeared in the backroom with mister Florin.
As the door closed, Eileen turned around. She began moving between the flowerpots. Her gaze examined each flower carefully – obliviously she was searching for something. And finally she saw it. There behind the daisies and the violets, was the plant she was searching for – the black rose. Eileen moved to it. The Duchess had figured out that the only place she could find that rare flower was mister Florin's shop. That's the reason why she agreed to escort Henry. It was the perfect opportunity not to raise suspicions on herself – after all her own investigation had to kept in secret. She touched the black blossom carefully. Its leaves were as soft as velvet.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" a voice said. "No wonder they call the rose the queen of the flowers"
Eileen startled.
"Mister Florin…"
"Excuse me for startling you, my lady, but Lord Henry asked me to call you. Obviously he can't make decision."
"Of course, I'm coming."
"But first I want to greet you for your exceptional taste, Lady Griffin. The black rose is quite tender and fair flower. Though it has quite the character – it's very hard to grow them; they are very capricious."
"Yes, I've heard." Eileen said. "You see, my mother was interested in that kind of roses. She wanted to plant some at our garden in the mansion." She paused. "Now I'd like to try to do it for her memento."
"I see." said Florin. "If you want my advice I can give you guidance how to grow them."
"Thank you."
"If I have to be honest, if you order some black roses, you'll be one of the few customers, who are brave enough to face their hard to please temperament." laughed Florin.
"Is that so?" asked Eileen. There was a tag of curiosity in her voice.
"Yes. In fact, when I think of it…the only one, who succeeded to grow black roses, is an acquaintance of yours…" Eileen tingled, but she didn't let any sign of emotion to appear on her face. "Mister Alexander Bowman, that is."
The Duchess was petrified. She just couldn't hide her surprise.
"Mister Bowman, you say…" She tottered slightly.
In that moment Henry came back. He ran to her and caught her.
"Eileen, are you alright?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine. The strong aroma of the flowers dazed me." She took a deep breath. "Henry, I'm sorry I'd like to go back already."
"But of course, of course. We are going." The Baron turned to Mister Florin. "Mister Florin, I will contact you soon to arrange our agreement. Now if you excuse us."
They left the flower shop and headed with quickened pace to the carriage.