Part 6: Distillation
Rise to silvery heights. Cast off your fear for all that is left thereafter is a tremendous concentration of a firmament that sparkles in your gaze.
When I opened the door, I masked my surprise to see Joanne standing at the top of the steps, suitcase in tow. The suitcase alerted me that he had indeed taken me up on the offer I had given him in my post, and he had the intention to stay for a time. It is not to say that I was shocked by his arrival, but rather caught off guard that he should choose to visit on this particular day. Young master had been faring as well as one might expect, but I could not begin to anticipate how he might react, for I had not prepared him for this guest. Given the circumstances, it had not been a priority.
Whatever carriage that had dropped him onto this doorstep was well and gone, so it would be a difficult situation if the young master decided he was not in the mood to entertain.
Perhaps we stood in silence for a moment too long, for he stammered, "Mr. Michaelis."
"I see that you are well, Joanne. And do not call me that, please." I took his suitcase and directed him into the foyer.
"Right... my apologies... did you receive my last letter?" Joanne surveyed his surroundings, taking interest in one of the paintings on the wall, a Dutch still life.
I took his coat. He was not wearing his typical school uniform, but instead a warm sienna ensemble which he chose to pair with an ascot that flashed with pinks and greens. I thought it a smart choice. "Was this a letter informing me that you would be arriving today?"
"The very one."
I chuckled. "My sincerest apologies, but you must have sent this correspondence to the manor proper, and I fear I have not been there for the past week to receive it." Nor had the servants thought it appropriate to forward such correspondence to the town house, despite my alerting them to the master's whereabouts, and our plans to stay in London until after the ball.
"I'm sorry! I knew when you didn't reply it would be best to not-"
"Nonsense. You were invited. You are here now, a welcomed guest of my master. See? I have already hung your coat so I see little reason to leave so soon."
He wrung his hands. "Surely Ciel knows of my coming."
I flashed a grin. "Absolutely not." It was not as though I planned for this bit of awkwardness, but there was no use in fumbling through the situation. "We will just have to inform him that you are here and will be visiting for a time."
"Sebastian, why didn't you tell him? Did you plan to surprise him like this?" He slipped his fingers through the blonde fringe in that nervous manner of his, but I chose to ignore it.
Mey-Rin breezed through the foyer from the door to the left and stopped short, nearly running into the stair railing. "Mey-Rin, would you kindly take Mr. Harcourt's effects up to the guest room? You did air out that room, yes?"
She stammered, "I did, as best I could, sir. Is the master expecting-?"
I turned back to the nervous young lad. "Our last guest, you know Prince Soma, with him being in your house on campus, when he was freeloading here he would light that ghastly incense at all hours of the day, and the smell just gets in everything. Glad to see he has taken to schooling, it is good for him. Yes, you will be staying there."
Mey-Rin gathered enough not to ask any more question. "I'll see the room is prepared for you proper, young sir." She turned her eyes downward as she took the case from beside me. She had done well to follow the master's instruction, for the townhouse had been given thorough treatment, even going so far as to dust the crown moulding and polish the brass lighting. Since our arrival, she had kept herself rather scarce and I preferred it that way.
Joanne whispered, "Oh dear, I've already caused too much of an inconvenience."
"Nonsense. The maid is more than happy to accommodate the young master's guest." In her attempts to lug the cases up to the guest room she proved that it is entirely possible to trip going up a flight of stairs. Joanne flinched at the sight of it. "Never mind her, she is perfectly all right."
"She looks to be struggling, please miss, allow me-"
"Joanne, it would be a disgrace to force you to carry your own luggage to your room. The maid will manage well enough, I promise. We have more important matters, such as refreshment, and..."
"Sebastian, who was at the door?" the young master barked from the parlour. Perhaps he heard Mey-Rin clunking up the stairs.
Joanne was wide eyed with terror as I directed him with a hand on his shoulder. "As good a time as any to greet the young master, yes?"
Worst case scenario was that Joanne would be asked to leave immediately, in a less than polite fashion. I determined that I could not force one to stay in the abode of my master if he did not wish them to stay, but I could stave off his temper if he decided to be so intolerable.
Ciel sat in the window seat recessed against the large bay windows that filtered cheerful April sunshine. It had been raining for days and if there would be one positive to this entire situation it was that Joanne did not have to travel here in the rain. After I knocked at the door lintel he set down his periodical, swinging his legs off his bench to face me.
His days had been quiet as of late, and so his choice of dress had been rather casual, not even bothering with waist coat or his usual heels. Even his collar was open, with no desire to don so much as a simple tie. Where earlier in the week he had sported a bandage that wrapped about his head, there was but a small strip of gauze taped over a cut that was healing rather nicely. He was recalling bits and pieces with each passing day, but this had done little to lighten his mood. He was far less confused, but I had no idea what was still a blur for him. If he wanted me to know, he would have told me, I reasoned.
"Young master, you have a visitor."
"Oh? I know it's not Soma because he is inclined to announce himself." He tossed the publication he was reading to the other end of the bench.
I chuckled. "Too right." I directed Joanne to come and stand in the door way. Being rather sheepish, he shuffled in front of me, holding his arms and head turned to the side. Placing a hand on his back urged him to stand a little straighter.
Ciel stood. "Joanne?"
"Good afternoon, Ciel."
For once the boy held his tongue, for I had anticipated the immediate reaction of "What are you doing here?" followed by terse orders for me to explain the situation. Surely his bellowing would have resulted in Joanne fleeing the town house, luggage be damned. The young master blinked, sizing up this unexpected guest, perhaps noting how Joanne was picking at the cuff of his sleeve.
He gestured to an arm chair by his bench. "Would you care to have a seat?" He dropped his jittery arms and nodded, taking careful steps across the room. The young master sat back into the cushion of his bench as I pushed an armchair closer to the window. Joanne nodded his thank you and took a stiff seat, wrists poised on the armrests and legs crossed at the ankle. "I'm sorry I did not anticipate your arrival, Joanne."
"No no, I feel as if I have dropped in unannounced... Ciel, have you been hurt?" Joanne eyed the bandage.
He waved a hand and then attempted to shift his fringe over the injury. "Oh yes... I'll spare you the details. It has been a dreadful week, truly, and I hate to admit I'm still recovering."
"Oh this is a terrible time for me to be here, I shouldn't—" Joanne uncrossed his legs, leaning forward and readying himself to launch from the cheerful parlour.
"No, please. Do not leave, or I will be forced to run after you and I cannot bear the headache that would cause me."
"I don't wish to be a burden." Joanne spoke with a deep resonance that I felt did not suit his demeanour, yet it was the sort of timbre Ciel had always wished he had possessed. He would often push his tone to sound authoritative, yet in this setting he spoke with the soft tenor that was most natural for him.
"Actually... I think I could stand to have a bit of company. Like I said... it's been a dreadful week."
"So you want me here?"
"Well, I'm not asking you to leave. You showing up is by far the most delightful thing I've had to encounter recently, because I do not know of too many that will pop in just to visit... except Lady Elizabeth, and I still question why she even bothers to visit me."
Joanne snickered. "Maybe she comes because she finds you witty."
"I think she seeks to find a lot in me, but in her case I leave much to be desired, hence me wondering why she insists on seeking my company. So I have to ask, Joanne, what brings you here? What are you seeking from me?" He leaned forward. "And don't tell me it's just the pleasure of my company. I'm not very pleasurable company." He glanced in my direction. "You're still standing there. Aren't you going to bring tea and biscuits or something?"
"Very well, sir."
"Like I should have to prompt you. Joanne, it is most fortunate that you arrived just in time for tea."
This was turning out quite a bit better than I anticipated. Perhaps he had sensed Joanne's unease and felt it appropriate to make him feel welcome. There was still the possibility that after tea and he learned more about the situation he would not be inclined to go with the plan I had set into motion some weeks back. The young master had the capacity to act with highest cordiality, but there are times when he could not be bothered to convey it.
Shortbread is an easy accompaniment to tea, and it afforded me a prompt return to the parlour. As I wheeled in my tea trolley Ciel greeted me. "So, when were you going to tell me that you have been writing letters to one of my former colleagues?"
"Well, I suppose the only excuse I have is that given the circumstances... I do not need to tell you it has been a dreadful week." A squat table was wheeled before the two boys. After the tea tray was set upon it, Joanne helped himself to the cream, yet took no sugar.
"You consider me a colleague, Ciel?"
"Of course. You were integral to our case at Weston. What was that, two years ago?" He sipped from his cup.
"People are still talking about you."
"Good and ill, I suspect."
"No shortage of either."
Ciel smirked, and decided to add one more cube of sugar. "And you are acquainted with my family, of course."
"Yes and the dinner party that Good Friday was... memorable."
"That's a very polite way to describe it. Between me insulting your father and upsetting my aunt..." So the young master could recall the events of that weekend, for if he could remember his aunt had been cross with him then surely he could remember why.
"Oh... did she find out about how you were... that night?"
Ciel's teacup clinked on the table. He had a blank expression that suggested he had not conceived the possibility that anyone other than Elizabeth had knowledge of his behaviour after he had left the company of others. Joanne fidgeted in his seat, preoccupied with a biscuit. "Young master." I gestured him to lean forward and I bent to whisper, "After I saw the lady back to her quarters that evening, I encountered Joanne who accompanied me to find you in a most miserable state." His hair smelled of linen that had been hung in the sun to dry. My voice deepened. "I suspect you would not have even acknowledged his presence, you were so enfeebled." His cheeks flared and he was forced to turn his face to see me grinning. His gaze snapped from me and he plucked up his languid disposition once more.
"Good Lord, Joanne, must you always encounter me at my worst? You must think me an intolerable prat." He crossed his arms.
Joanne hid behind his tea cup. "No… but must you endeavour to use excess in every situation?"
"Well… considering what you know of me, that is a fair question." He leaned his head against the glass, staring at the heather shrubs beyond the window. "I really can't do anything half-heartedly, I suppose."
Joanne broke the stillness. "Well, that's one way to turn a vice into a virtue."
Ciel lifted his head and laughed, a first true, genuine laugh that I had heard from him in a long while. "Joanne, I did not know you to be so amusing. I feel slighted to have not discovered this sooner. If I had known, I would have invited you myself, instead of the butler just taking it upon himself to invite people to my house."
Of course he would place the focus on me, as though acting of my own accord is a shortcoming in a servant. Let me be the brunt of his criticisms, if it took the focus away from being told that Joanne saw him make sick at his aunt and uncle's estate.
"It was too rash of me to assume—"
"Now now, please let me assure you there is no wrong in you being here," Ciel wagged his hand in that dismissive manner of his, "because frankly the problem is not you being a guest." He turned to me once more. "Sebastian, I believe we have no further need of you, so my guest and I are going to catch up, for we failed to do that last we saw each other."
I bowed. "Very good, my lord. Dinner will be in two hours. I ask that the both of you not spoil it on shortbread." As I moved to take away the plate of biscuits, a mischievous earl managed to grab another round, but I snatched it away before he realized it went missing from his hand. He cut a vindictive look and I smirked.
Although, when Ciel came down to the kitchen nearly two hours later as I was pulling breads from the oven, he did not look the slightest bit pleased with me.
"Surely you did not send Joanne away, not after I have prepared this lovely meal." I gestured to the roasted quail resting on the table, greens, a risotto dish, spiced yams, and a white wine in the decanter.
"On the contrary, he's upstairs refreshing before dinner. Let me make this quite clear, Sebastian." He pointed in my direction. "Do not think for one second that he is here just because you coaxed him into coming. He is a guest in my house, so he stays because I permit it."
"Well, that is wonderful to hear, young master. It is good to see you possess a bit of graciousness after all."
"Don't mock me!" He slammed a hand on the counter. "And worse still you mock him! He is going to keep insisting that he is causing me strain, that he really shouldn't impose all because of your actions, when you have no business inviting guests! Why place him under that sort of pressure? How inconsiderate! Why do you think you can just do these things?"
I turned my attention to him. "Is it necessary to shout? And pray tell, precisely what are 'these things' to which you refer?"
"Doing as you please behind my back?"
"Oh? So is that the only 'thing?' Or do you mean to imply I have acted as such on more than one occasion?" I very well knew that acting of my own accord without his knowledge was a normal habit. I could also anticipate that every time he found out about such things, he would express his irritation, disappointment, or whatever sentiment I never really cared to receive from him.
For a moment he wore that blank expression, but shook it off as if were a pesky fly before his face. "There probably is, I just can't think of it right now!"
I gave a dismissive "hmm" and turned out the bread onto a cooling rack. Naturally his pride would get the better of him, too embarrassed to admit that while he knew I was conniving and deceptive, he could not recall a recent moment of me behaving as such.
He decided it best to change the subject. "And you better tell me why you invited him here, writing letters back and forth, like you're trying to get away with something while I'm gone? Looks pretty sordid to me. Can I assume this is precisely what it looks like?"
I stared at him, appalled by his presumption. "Are you... accusing me of taking advantage of…?" He crossed his arms in silence. "Truly, is your opinion of me so low?" I stifled a laugh behind my hand.
"You had best clue me into what you believe is so funny."
"Young master, as if I had something to gain from—"
"Yes, what do you have to gain?" I was not about to tell him that I needed my master to divert his attention to someone other than myself, and that Joanne had a keen interest in him to begin with.
I crossed the room to set a stool before him so he can sit. "So he has not told you a single thing about why he is here?" If Joanne was not going to explain it, then perhaps it would be a benefit to exercise the consideration my master accused me of lacking and save the shy lad some trouble. I set a glass of wine before him.
"Are you trying to sweeten me up? Do I need to be concerned?" He took a sip anyway. "I've tried asking him several times why he is here, but every time I encounter the subject, he grows quiet and suggests that he is imposing, so apparently he is too embarrassed to come right out and say what he wants."
The door to the kitchen was closed, and I reasoned that loading the trolleys with dinner could wait a few minutes. "Young master, after the dinner party, Joanne came to me with a very curious confession. I do not know how to phrase it without it sounding preposterous but it is true as I am about to say it."
"Will you sit down? You know how it irritates me to have you looming over as you explain things." That did not stop me from doing so at every opportunity, but it seemed the better option to be agreeable and pull up a stool next to him.
It had been some time since we had spoken like this and it not be some heated exchange. Our shoulders nearly touched as we both faced the counter, and I considered there was some other reason why he wished me to sit. "How to put this as simple as possible… Joanne has a problem with feeling right with himself as in... as male. I mean, you see how he acts... it is rather feminine, would you say?"
Ciel blinked a few times. "I haven't the slightest clue what you mean."
"Are you saying you cannot see it?"
Well, yes, he's pretty, I'll give you that, but he's... just that. He's an attractive young man, perhaps lacking in self-surety—"
"Yes, he is extremely self-conscious because he does not feel like he was ever meant to be a man in the first place."
"But that is what he is, he's not a girl, he's just not."
The young master was exhibiting one of those rare moments of extreme density. "Joanne wants to be a woman, young master. That is what he confessed to me last Easter. He does not like to be treated like a man, he wishes he did not have to live his life like one, and the matter causes him an extreme amount of anxiety."
He took a deeper sip of the wine. "That is ridiculous."
"Is it now? You mean to tell me you have never encountered another individual with a similar predilection?"
He knew to whom I was referring and curled his lip like I had just thrust some vile substance under his nose. "Yes, but Joanne is nothing like… Joanne has some decency! Come to think, he is rather refined." Ciel swirled the wine in the glass for a moment, as if it were an aid to his thought process. "Joanne isn't secretly some degenerate who's really adept at hiding it, is he? And he came to you with this confession?"
"It is not the first time he has come to me in distress."
"You insist that you have no intention of using him for some debauched purpose, and thus far nothing you have told me helps your case."
"Honestly, young master, I think at the time he needed someone to tell, and felt I was a person who would be willing to listen. But you ask why he is here. He wants to attend your ball as a lady, and I'm giving him the means to do that."
Ciel nearly spit his wine. "Whoa whoa, hang on. How did you think this was an acceptable idea? Why in the world would you placate such a notion?"
"Since he has given such a generous donation already, why not accommodate him this way?"
"And 'give him the means?' In what way?" I saw him wide eyed, face stricken pale, and realized I had misinterpreted his shock as him believing I was out to scandalize him. No, his fear surged much deeper than that. "Surely it's not possible… Sebastian you can't—" He seized my lapel, eye patch torn from his face and I was halted by heliotrope. Words he had said so long ago rang in my head as a mantra, 'Never leave me, never betray me, my knight, my sword and shield...' My beautiful master, with wine on his breath and sparks in his eyes actually believed I would consider...
I fell to my knees, for a look such as that could subjugate and this was why I needed him distracted, so he could not suffocate all sense of me. The kiss I had with him on the roof was such a rush that I could not bear it if I should lose control with him again, that I could just take what was not yet due to me. To be deprived of the feast before me was intolerable, maddening, but I could no longer have him suffer my cruelty just so I could be sated for a time, for the world had shown him cruelty enough.
"I am not going anywhere."
He released the front of my jacket to sip at his wine once more.
I continued. "Perhaps I should clarify. He would like to dress as a lady, and considering the sizeable donation he has given to your charity, it is possible for you to accommodate.
"And he wants to know you better. He is not here just for what he hopes to receive, but also for what he may give to you."
He glared down at me. "And what might that be?"
"Kindness." Joanne seemed to bathe in such a sentiment, and while I found it unpalatable, I anticipated my master would crave such a thing.
"As if I need it."
"Pardon me, but I disagree."
"Kindness is not something one needs."
I smiled, because he was endearing when he lied to himself. "Whatever you say, young master. All I ask is that you accept it with all the graciousness I know you possess."
"Get up from the floor before I kick you." As I did so, he handed me the glass. "I need another before I go back upstairs to collect Joanne."
"Please do not overdo it this evening, young master." I obliged his glass.
"Please don't compel me to drink excessively, Sebastian."
"Now, that is just not fair." I poked him on the shoulder, and he swatted at me.
"Don't tease me, either."
He sat in silence as he watched me load trays of food onto trolleys. When I opened the door, Mey-Rin shuffled in after waiting patiently outside. So she had learned her lesson, and I granted her a nod of approval as she collected the custom Wedgwood set from the cabinet, one by one as instructed, and set places for the boys in the dining room. He was an instance of simple company, where I could work without interruption and he could be content to watch me perform such tasks.
As I loaded the last tray, I suggested, "Why do you go tell Joanne that dinner is ready?" I took his glass from him and set it on the trolley. "Your wine will be waiting for you at the table." There was a charm to how he rolled his eyes and scooted off the seat. It was the same sort of charm when he swirled the wine in the glass... Possibly I was enchanted by every action, every gesture. Could we sustain ourselves by just watching the other exist?
The two came down the stairs, past the parlour and into dining room to find me lighting the candles on the table. "There is no need to overdo it on my account," Joanne said with a grin.
"This is the norm at my dinner table," Ciel replied as I pulled the seat back for him. "But this is not a fancy occasion, no need to put on airs, I haven't the energy to keep up anyways."
The past few days Ciel had taken very little at meals, but it appeared that being in the presence of another had improved his appetite to where he was asking for seconds, which is practically unseen by that boy. With a sampling of every dish Joanne awarded me favour, and eventually I had to insist that this was just me fulfilling my duties, that I am not deserving of so much of his praise. Despite this being a casual meal, he displayed such etiquette for its most genuine purpose: to express gratitude for the meal before him. I suspected Joanne was used to eating in a noisy dining hall, rushing through meals to attend to some other academic responsibility, so to sit for even over an hour for dinner was a luxury.
Their main course was coming to a close, the young gentlemen at the table picking up their forks less often. "I feel as though the conversation has been focused on me today. I want to hear more about you, Joanne." The young master drank from the water goblet, as if a shift in conversation required it.
The boy set down his fork to push a strand of blonde hair behind his ear. "Well... what do you wish to know? I don't think there's much about me that is very interesting."
"Nonsense." Ciel waved his hand as if to dismiss this notion. "How are things at Weston? What courses are you studying? Are you in the cricket match this year?"
Joanne lifted a finger, signalling the other to slow his barrage of questions. "I... things are fine, I suppose. I have a lot of friends... things have improved considerably since you were there. Um, courses... I'm still taking Latin, history, literature, philosophy, and I started taking law classes this year."
"Law? But you're only a fourth year, if my memory serves?"
"Yes, but it was at my father's insistence." As he looked off to the side, the fringe tucked behind his ear came loose to hang over his eyes again. "He pulled some strings and had me enrolled in classes that most students don't start until their sixth year."
Ciel finished chewing and noticed how Joanne's demeanour had shifted at the mention of his father. "And after that would be to university, Oxford, I imagine?"
"Yes, Pembroke College, more than likely." Joanne's usual resonant voice trickled to a whimper.
Ciel leaned back in his chair and Joanne's knife chinked against the plate. "But what would you rather be doing, Joanne? You don't seem much the type to enter into law." Clayton, now, he certainly looked like a law student. You strike me as the literary type," he pointed out, the statement directed with a firm hand.
"Is it so obvious?"
"Indeed."
"Well... yes, I'd rather be studying Classical literature. If I had my way... I'd pursue writing." Joanne lifted his eyes to see his dinner mate smiling, and he mimicked the expression. Perhaps it was rare for him to be asked such a thing. Perhaps Joanne had come to believe that such a pursuit was foolish, if for no other reason than someone else had placed that notion in his head. "And to answer your previous question, no, I'm not in the cricket match this year. After that... incident second year."
That devious Earl chuckled. "Oh, yes, that was... I'm sorry Joanne, but in hindsight you have to admit-"
"I don't think it's very funny."
Ciel pardoned himself, hiding his laugh and urged Joanne to continue.
"Needless to say, I don't much care for the sport. Father was furious when I told him I dropped off the team. It didn't suit me anyway. But I suspect that is why he has me on a fast track to university." I noticed how he smoothed his hands on his napkin in his lap.
"Does he know you're here?"
Joanne shook his head, and he wiped the sweat from his palms on the napkin in his lap.
"So he thinks you're still at school."
"Well, classes for upperclassmen are on hiatus until mid-May so they can study for examinations, then afterwards is the cricket tournament. But I put in a request for holiday to be here, and it was granted due to high marks."
"Well, I suppose all that reading and hard work pays off." Ciel lifted his wine glass. "Don't worry, he won't find you. I suspect if he knew you were keeping company with me he... I gather he is a difficult person to please."
Joanne's shoulders stiffened. From the curtain of his hair he whispered, "More than you know."
The young master must have taken this as a sign to change the subject. "Well, if you're not practicing cricket, what do you do in your spare time?"
"It's mostly fag duties. I've managed to stay prefect fag since second year." He tried for another bite of food. It was apparent to me that some of this conversation had affected his appetite. "It can be exhausting to have so many people asking for your attention. But I'm never want for company."
"And you are so popular because you're the prefect's fag?"
"I think... it's a little more involved. Perhaps I'm just... nice?" He looked up as if to ponder the notion, fixated on the chandelier above the table.
"That's a rare trait."
Joanne brought his attention back to the table. "You think most people aren't?"
"Well, as you say, it's a little more involved." Ciel shifted his utensils onto his plate and I moved to his left to retrieve it. As I came back with the wine bottle he lifted his hand to indicate he had had enough. "I think many people try to be nice, but there are few who can get away with it."
"How do you mean?"
"How should I put it? It is a rare thing for someone to be a nice person... and not be trampled over. I think most people when they see a good thing they have a desire to squash it, to sully it in some way."
"That is a most unfortunate perspective to have, Ciel." Joanne followed suit with his plate of food and proceeded to preoccupy himself with a glass that was still rather full.
"Yes, well, our perspectives are shaped by what we see." As I was cutting into the sponge cake, I watched the young master lean over the table, and Joanne leaned back in response. "But when I see you, I am pleased by how you don't follow my usual expectations. You are nice, Joanne, and it's the kind of niceness that I feel people are not inclined to stamp out. I would not want to, that's for sure."
Dessert was set before them, and Joanne appeared dazzled by it. He could not resist taking a moment to savour. Ciel had partaken of this recipe for years, but to see Joanne so engrossed must have given him reason to follow suit.
Joanne continued, "You talk about these people... people who 'see a good thing and want to stamp it out...' why do you think they would want to do such a thing?"
Ciel took a moment to reflect on this question over sponge cake. A sip of coffee seemed to bring him to a conclusion. "Because... well, I think there are some who bear witness to a good thing and it brings to their attention such an inadequacy in themselves. Doing work to fill the empty parts of ourselves... I suppose it can be rather painful." It was his turn to look off to the side. I could not help but suspect there was some wisp of a memory that fluttered in and out of his train of thought. "So instead why not level the playing field, and kick them down?"
"It's a sad thing, to see others perpetuate such evil."
"Yes, I suppose one could argue that is the very definition of evil. Goodness, when did the topic of conversation become so philosophical?"
I would not turn to face him, but my eyes shifted in his direction. Was there something in his explanation that was influenced by some remembrance, some bitter feeling? Was that even bitterness I was sensing from him? Ciel was being rather difficult to read because he was putting on a nice face for his guest, but on the other hand, it did not appear he had to make great strides to accomplish this.
"I'm sorry, do such subjects bore you?" Joanne inquired.
"On the contrary, I think I am just unused to such conversation."
"Oh, well... let me ask you another question." Joanne seemed inclined to speak with very little motion to his words, but this time he offered an open palm. "What makes me so special? I mean, by your logic, I should have suffered the misfortune of others' cruelty. There have been times when I have, but that hasn't stopped me from acting with kindness. And now I can say such kindness is advantageous. My friends are always telling me I'm nice. So what is different about me?"
"Hmm... a true philosophical conundrum. Let me ask you this. Do you think all of your friends are nice people? Do you think some of them could stand to be nicer?" Ciel held his chin and turned his head to the left, shielding his view of the other boy.
"I suppose... some may not be as nice as what they might believe."
"But do you tell them this? I mean, you could argue that you are an authority on what it is to be a good person, yes?"
"But I can't argue that. No one can argue that."
"Oh really?"
"Can anyone really argue for an ideal of what is good? Can we even know such a thing? It would be arrogant to assume that one can embody what it means to be good." His single-eyed stare would have been enough to cause Joanne to look away, but this usually timid boy met that gaze with equal intensity. "All we can do is... act with kindness... and believe in our hearts that it is right."
"Right there, you said it. That's why people like you." Ciel sat straighter, wagging a finger.
"Hang on, I don't think I follow."
"Joanne, you don't judge others. You are not out to be kind as a way to show up someone else, or to prove a point, or to receive recognition. You are good for the sake of it, if for no other reason. That is a very, very rare trait."
Joanne blushed from this comment, at a loss of how to reply. My young master had to learn much too early how to read people. He had to learn how to judge them as well. He acknowledged such differences between him and Joanne, and he surprised me with the acceptance of such, to not consider this young man foolish for possessing a trait that never suited my master.
Ciel finished off the last of his sponge cake. "And this is why I don't much care for philanthropists."
"And yet you are hosting a charity ball next month."
"Yes, but you know that wasn't my idea, and besides, when did I ever say I cared for myself?" Joanne laughed at this quip as Ciel shrugged his shoulders.
The two sat over their coffee rather satisfied, and Ciel piped up. "I think it's time we talk about the matter of why you're here, Joanne. At first I was very sceptical, but after discussing this issue," he pointed his cup in my direction, "I think I just need to hear it from you."
"So you talked to Sebastian about... me."
"A bit." He toyed with the coffee spoon on the saucer.
By this point, Joanne had wrung his napkin to near-shreds. "If the situation offends you, I can respect that..."
"No, I'm not offended, maybe I just don't understand. Maybe I'm missing something." Joanne sunk into his chair from the young master's intense gaze. He could be rather overbearing at times. "Why do you want to dress up as a woman for the ball? What is the purpose of this? What is there to be gained from it?"
"I can't say there's any real reason... other than I want to."
"But why? Are you looking for some sort of attention?"
"No, it's not like I want to make a scene or anything…"
"Because I really can't afford a scandal-"
"Oh Ciel, I'm sorry," Joanne sputtered into his wrinkled napkin. I rested my forehead into the palm of my hand, for the master was showing his pig-headedness again. "I knew it was wrong for me to impose," his voice cracked, "and I thought if Sebastian had suggested that this was a possibility... please don't be angry with him either, oh I'm so sorry..."
Ciel was startled by this outburst, lips parted as if the words evacuated in silence. His once forcible demeanour deflated and the sentiment of 'Damn it all I broke him,' was heard in his sighing. Joanne was making effort to hide desperate tears. "Are you... seriously this upset?" Ciel reached across the table. "I didn't say I wasn't going to allow this, I'm just really... come now, stop crying like a..." and when he realized what he was about to say it was as if a light had flared to life. He stood from the table, walked to the side where Joanne sat hunched over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Joanne. I can be... rather insensitive sometimes."
That lad's emotions waded just beneath a penetrable surface as soft as whipped cream. He took a deep shuddering breath, for something as insubstantial as air was substance enough to force his distress beneath a filmy barrier. I suspected that Joanne understood his plight little more than Ciel, for who in the wide world could give an answer to "why?" For all the mystery of it, my master could grasp one tangible fact; Joanne felt shame, isolation and futility. Ciel knew how such emotions could blast away at one's inner strength, and bequeaths such desperation. Never mind how any should arrive at such a state, for in the end suffering is all the same.
The dining room had quieted and even the candle fire burned dimmer as if worriment weighted the air. The young master's tone was solemn. "Sebastian, how is this going to work?"
"I have already planned for it. Ms. Hopkins was more than delighted to take on the commission and we should be receiving a package in a little less than a week, I gather."
"Leave it to you to have worked out the details. Joanne, look at me." Ciel lifted the boy's pointed chin. Tears trickled along a flawless complexion from dazzling eyes. He sniffled that upturned Gallic nose. Ciel's face flushed and he snapped, "You could pass. It wouldn't take very much work."
"Are you saying...?"
He turned away, posture erect and hands behind his back. "Yes, I suppose I can permit this. I wouldn't if I had the impression you were out to make a fool of yourself and ruin my reputation." He turned his head over his shoulder. "But you're not, am I correct in my judgment? You're too nice."
"And I think you are nicer than you would like to admit," Joanne said with thick voice, ready to burst into another fit of weeping.
"So you must be out to ruin me if you insist on spreading such rumours." The Earl flashed that charming smile, that very one that could part waves in the sea that was polite English society.
It was a smile that lifted Joanne from his chair to fling his arms around my young master. "Ciel… thank you!" He buried his appreciation into Ciel's shoulder, arms tight with indebtedness and I was forced to set down cup and saucer to chortle behind my hand at such an endearing display. Ciel looking uncomfortable was too irresistible.
Then he caught my minor lapse in composure, and the corner of his lip curled in that devious manner.
Instead of slinking away from Joanne's embrace, he tightened it. He did not drop his gaze from mine for one moment.
