25

There were many subsequent visits to the Lefevres home.

Helen rarely went, as she was packing and moving into the house on the lake. Christine's old rooms had been converted into an art studio, as well as storage for items that were being displaced in the whole affair. It was now wide open, full of light and movement, something it had not seen for many years.

Erik was rapidly growing impatient with Katrina's attempts to help, and being sure she would be crushed by falling furniture, agreed to any outing of a day Marie suggested. Those outings often ended at the Lefevre estate.

Katrina's ninth birthday had been one mad rush from dawn to bedtime. Helen had moved the last of her things in, and was taking a last sweep of her little rented studio and her mother's house. Marie's final performance as a career soprano was that evening, and there was a celebration in the opera house planned after. Madame refused to admit that she was crying, or at all emotional about anything. Jacques was thrilled that the comments often leveled at a husband and wife in the performing world had been relatively few.

Katrina was packed to visit Madame for a week, as after the party, Helen and Erik were going to elope. With the D'Arcy's full knowledge of course. Madame kept insisting it would cause a scandal, and that she should never recover once it was discovered. Helen couldn't stop laughing, and became positively giddy when Katrina finally asked what a scandal was.

"Something bad, Katrina." Marie said coolly as the girl buttoned up her dress for the first act. It would be the last time Katrina would do so for many months.

"Oh." The little girl said contentedly, as if that solved everything, instead of explaining why the whole ordeal was so complicated.

The night went without a problem, Marie sang well, earning a complement from Erik. Jacques was calm, considering that he had finally learned whom he had been paying for so long. Katrina was kissed repeatedly by Helen before she slipped away to be married, and was given a package from her uncle with a stern warning not to sit on it.

At Madame's house, she found that she was rather lonely without her Erik, and was grateful the old woman had agreed to let her bring Tomino.

"I understand it's your birthday, Katrina," Madame said, tucking the child into the bed Marie and Helen had once shared.

"Yes, Grandmamma. I can call you that now, since Helen's my Aunt?"

Grandmamma sniffed. "You were given permission to call me that long ago. But I suppose it's more fitting tonight. Tomorrow, we shall spend the day in the country, and stop off at the Lefevres, if that agrees with you. They have asked us to stay for a few days."

Katrina nodded, and pulled the package from under the bed. "May I open this now?"

"Of course."

Tearing off the brown wrapping, Katrina found a violin, her name inlaid on the ribs. Inside was a letter from her uncle, which left her and Madame a little weepy. It was stored carefully in the case for the rest of the girl's life, to be found many years later by her own grandchildren.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, and Katrina had a splendid romp in the fields flying kites and inhaled her basket lunch at a startling rate. Madame had enough grace to let the wild antics pass, since it would be the last real time outdoors before winter set in.

They reached the Lefevre's in time for tea, a much lighter affair than lunch had been.

Katrina and Monsieur Lefevre again retired to the music room, where they spent a pleasant few hours. It was then that the butler walked in, and handed the gentleman a letter.

Jean Lefevre read it twice, his face growing grim. "When he arrives, take him to his room. I will speak to him over breakfast."

"Yes, sir." The butler replied, and vanished.

Katrina looked solemnly at her new friend, and had the good sense not to ask what was wrong. She had a feeling she'd know sooner than she wanted too.

Her instinct proved correct.

The man arrived early, during supper. He stood in the door watching coolly as a place was set for him, and took his chair next to Katrina almost dramatically. "Hello Mama, Papa. It has been some time."

Madame raised an eyebrow, but being acquainted with the Lefevre history, needed no farther information. Monsieur Lefevre nodded in stiff politeness, and Madame Lefevre smiled in tentative welcome. "You know of Madame D'Arcy, Jean. This is her grandchild, Katrina."

The young man's eyes turned down to the diminutive form beside him. Her great brown eyes were slowly taking him in, wondering why he was there if he did not like to claim his own family. His lean good looks were slightly blocked by a long hairstyle, in sad need of re-arraigning, and his eyes were a tawny color, nearing gold or yellow. His clothes were fashionable, but worn about the seams, Katrina noted.

Jean pressed his lips together in a narrow frown. "Haven't your parents taught you not to stare?"

There was an utter silence at the table, brought on by his compiled rudeness in arrival, attitude, and refusal to greet the guests. This brash attempt to point out another's faults clearly insulted his parents' sensibilities.

Before they could retort, Katrina actually turned in her seat to sit on her knees and face him. She was nearly eye to eye with him that way. "My parents are dead. What is your excuse?"

Perhaps Erik would have been angry to know she had used one of him common replies on a perfect stranger and before that stranger's family. But at the moment, all anyone felt was a keen appreciation of her cool response.

The meal finished without another word spoken, and they all retired to bed.