The doctor was returning from the carriage house. As he walked he marveled at the deep pink and orange of the sun that was bursting to life on the eastern horizon. As he walked toward the house, he lowered his head, his breath rising from him in frosty plumes of sorrow. When the previous day had begun, the boy had likely been enjoying some sort of breakfast, perhaps pondering his future. This morning was quite different; this morning found him passed from this world, thus bringing to a rather abrupt end, the Crawlings family, and the Crawlings legacy.
The crunch of the reatreating snow beneath his boots as he traveled, did little to distract him from his thoughts. The doctor could not bring himself to rejoice in the boy's passing, as certainly all of Paris would be once word of his death found its way to the City. No, he could not celebrate it at all, for he'd been a mere boy. He'd not yet had opportunity to change his ways, to repent of his wrongs, to choose a different path. The words of the priest floated through his mind "no man can choose the day, the hour, nor the manner of his death." He sighed, but surely there was something unjust about a child being formed to be nothing but a criminal. The fault had resided with his father and his father alone. The boy had been nothing more than the result of years of teaching, on a most crooked path. He shook his head, there was something pitifully sad about that fate.
As he reached the veranda, he paused, stretching and taking in a full lung of what seemed to be warming Spring-like air. Perhaps this would be a new day. One full of hope, one full of joy, one full of peace. One thing was certain, there would be a great many who would rest easier in the knowledge that the Crawlings family could no longer wager their treachery. Word would no doubt travel like wildfire once the boy was delivered to Paris.
He was met at the door by Madeline, who herself looked to have managed little if any sleep the previous evening. Without a word, she handed him a cup of thick black coffee, and a biscuit filled with apricot preserves. She knew he'd no time for sitting down, so she'd given him the warm breakfast on a plate that he could take with him to his room.
"Thank you Madeline, you are most thoughtful." It had been supper the night before since he'd eaten, and though that would not have been unusual, the fact that he'd not yet slept, made his body crave that which it did not have need for if it had been in slumber.
He quietly stood on the veranda looking out at the lawn as he consumed his biscuit, supping from his hot coffee. The yard showed only traces of the carnage that had gone on there. A large ashen pile of wood lay off the right of the house still smoldering slightly, not entirely that far from the line of trees that made its way into the depths of the woods. There were faint hints of blood in the center of the yard, no doubt where the dogs and wolves had their encounter. The paw prints had been muddled by the trampling of many pairs of boots over the snow from the subsequent events.
He glanced once more off at the woods. That is where the boy had been when Raoul had shot him dead. The doctor grimaced. Raoul would have a difficult time adjusting to the blood on his hands. No, he'd not deal with it well, he simply knew it. As he put the remaining crumbs of the biscuit in between his lips he glanced at the carriage house. He'd done his job, though not a perfect one. He was no undertaker, but understood the rudimentary skills necessary to do what he'd needed, but little more. He'd tended to one of the stable hands who'd attempted to watch the process, and fainted. No doubt this was the first they'd seen such a thing. Raoul's house had suffered from no trauma, and certainly nothing of this nature. He supped at his coffee once more, and then passed through the door into the house.
Outside the sun's first rays began piercing at every dark corner where shadow had rested. Yes, today would be a new day. Full of possibility, and full of hope…perhaps even more than anyone knew.
XXXXX
The doctor found his way back from the kitchen at the Inn, knocking lightly on the door before he entered. The room was still dark, though the first shafts of morning light grew outside. He'd not touch the curtains, he wanted both ladies to rest. He sat the tray of soup and bread that he'd brought on the small table next to the divan where Nicole now lay. He smiled, he could tell by her shallow breathing that she'd been asleep minutes only. Though he felt somewhat guilty for having to wake her, he knew she'd feel much better if she'd something in her stomach.
He gently reached out laying his hand on her shoulder, carefully shaking it a bit. Nicole easily woke, blinking at him through bleary eyes. "I've brought you some soup my dear. Do sit up and have a few bites won't you?"
Nicole was far more compliant, and her defensiveness much declined when she first woke. It had often been those moments that her mother would speak to her of things that she knew Nicole held in, for in those moments she was the most vulnerable that she would be all of her waking hours. She slid up, resting her back against the tall back of the divan, pulling the covers up under her arms. She was chilled though the room was warm.
The doctor smiled once more sitting the tray on her lap, quickly realizing that would be most awkward for her. She smiled, lifting the bowl and the spoon from the saucer smiling at him.
"I can hold it sir. Something I am quite accustomed to. I'm afraid that the work that I do does not always allow for the most proper time nor use of manners at meal time." She paused, "but I do have them." He smiled at her as she took her first spoonful of soup. She blew on it, the steam rising from the spoon she closed her eyes taking in the wonderful aroma of the basil heavy chicken stock filled with all manner of winter vegetable.
As she opened her eyes, she saw the doctor staring at her. Not the sort of stare one gives a stranger, but a more familiar stare, one that is exchanged among friends or lovers. Though it startled her, it was not uncomfortable…all she could do was return his gaze with a smile. "Thank you," Nicole said as she took her first bit of soup. It was wonderful. Not merely the flavor of balanced medley, but the fact that it had been brought to her out of compassion by someone who would now most likely be, a most trusted friend.
XXXXX
Andre was already dressing in his quarters for his journey. He'd chosen something refined, yet warm, most suitable for travel. He glanced over at the ivory envelope that sat on the table beneath his cloak. Lady C had been rather specific in her instructions. The envelope had to be delivered to the man's house that very day so that he might have adequate time to prepare for her arrival.
He finished, sipping from his first cup of morning coffee, he took the list of ingredients that the cooks had prepared for him. He tucked that inside his breast pocket, he'd not want to lose it lest he have to guess at the contents of it, and he was certainly no epicurean! It would indeed be a busy day.
Slipping on his cloak, and riding gloves he departed his room. In his haste, the envelope left laying on the table.
In but a few moments he found himself downstairs, checking one last time with those who'd risen to prepare him for his travels. Truly, the City of Chauesser was not a far journey, but there was an excitement in the air. There always was this time of year, with the festival not far off, but there was something decidedly different about this day. It seemed to be brimming with possibility.
XXXXXXXX
The doctor had thought long and hard about returning to Courtland Manor to visit Elizabeth. He'd stayed with his sister two days more than he'd thought he would when he first arrived, but the weather had altered his plans. He'd so enjoyed spending the additional hours coddling his new niece and nephew, and spending time with his sister and her husband. He thought his brother-in-law to be quite amiable, but this unexpectedly extended visit had proven him to be even more so than he'd first estimated. He looked on with great happiness as the man helped his sister with every aspect of caring for their young children, even shooing her off to bed in the mid-afternoon for a nap whilst he tended to the children and took care of the dishes from the afternoon meal. True he had little else he could do while the snow was piled still up to the bottoms of the window sills, but he could as well have found it time to relax himself. He'd come to respect how much the man truly loved and respected his sister. Yes, he was a man ahead of his times no doubt, and the doctor was entirely thankful that his sister had married such a fine man.
He rather hoped that he too would one day find a woman to embrace as his own, though he was no longer a lad, and truly, he'd been so devoted to his work and his studies, he'd had little time to do much else. He found his love, his commitment, and his interest lay so heavily in those that he cared for, he wasn't certain if he could ever marry lest his wife feel that his work was his mistress. Perhaps one day he would find someone that he could love the way this man loved his sister, or the way Stephan loved Elizabeth. If ever he could choose as examples of pure love, he'd have to look no further than the pairs he had privilege to know.
He had already packed his bag and had it sitting by the door when his sister woke. She no doubt smelled the aroma from the first pot of coffee of the morning.
"Dear brother, why is that you rise so early, it is yet dark outside?" she said coming through the door from her room into the parlor, rubbing at her eyes, tugging on the edges of her robe, wrapping it tightly around her waist drawing it in with the sash.
"I did not mean to wake you. I've asked the carriage driver to have the sleigh readied. It has been far too long since I've visited with several of my patients. Now that the weather is more reasonable, all threat of more snow now gone, I really should be getting back to my keeps." He said as he sat rocking in the chair next to the fire. "I've so enjoyed our visit sister, and the chance to hold those beautiful children of yours."
His sister blushed, walking over to the hearth sitting on the stone ledge that lay in front of it in a near half-moon shape. "We have enjoyed having you. I must say Thomas has rather enjoyed the company of another man these last days. I'm quite afraid he's heard nothing more than discussions of babies and the like for some weeks now. It was quite refreshing for him to have someone to discuss a great many other things with!"
She laughed. "Politics, the burgeoning Bohemian revolution, the scandals of the various theaters of question in Paris…the strange disappearances of people in that City, they are much more interesting fodder for the company of gentlemen than talk of feeding and diapering babies!" She laughed again as she glanced into the fire. Her husband was indeed a thoughtful man, and would never have said as much, but he had enjoyed the distraction.
The doctor smiled. "Thomas has proven to be quite an able companion my dear sister. I'd always thought him to be noble, but I've seen his compassion in his dealings with you. And when he holds his daughter…well…let us say that no greater love hath no man!"
He smiled at her. Both knew it were true. Her husband was a bit older than she, and all had worried that the difference in age would not bode well for their happiness. But, thankfully, all had been proven wrong, for no finer match could have been made for either of them. Content and happy. Those were the two words most oft used by others to describe the couple. Now with a family quite firmly established with the birth of their twins, there was little doubt that they would be a very wonderful family.
"Your work is so very important to you brother dear. I only fear that this passion of caring for the lives of others, does not in the end deprive you of having a life of your own." She said, gently resting her hand on his shoulder as she walked passed him on her way to the kettle that lay on the stove.
He glanced down, that very thing had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. "My dear sister, do not worry. I shall know the woman when I meet her. I can only hope she is as fine a match for me as you have been for Thomas."
His sister nodded at him as she carried a cup for the both of them over to where he sat. She herself sitting down by the hearth once more. True, it wasn't a proper place to sit, but it was warm, and she'd no children watching for her example just yet, so she could take these last few liberties.
"Do you go to visit the young woman that is with child?" She said sipping from her cup.
He turned to look at her. "Yes, she and her husband. I should like very much to stop there after I visit with a few of the elders along the way. With any fortune at all, I shall be there before night falls. His household is rather accommodating, and providing they've room, they are most likely to ask me to join them for dinner and a nights rest. I've much to tend to when I make my way back home. No doubt the house will need much tending when I return." He scratched at his chin. He could only hope that it had faired well during the storm. It was small and adequate, though how sturdy the roof had been under the weight of the snow was something that remained to be seen.
XXXXXXX
As gentle tickling shafts of golden sun flickered through the split in the curtains, it danced off the glistening hair on the head that was nestled far down into the satin covered pillow on which it lay. She'd wandered off into a deep, fitful sleep. Normally she'd have risen by this hour, for she'd not been able to sleep more than a half-dozen hours at one time since she was a young woman. That night had been most unusual with the unexpected news of Victoria's death, and the discovery of a man of noble intentions. She'd been in and out of slumber too many times to count. It hadn't been until the last hour that she'd finally found her way off into the deep sleep.
She'd spent so much of the time recollecting all of the encounters that she and Victoria had over the years since her father's confession and subsequent death. It had been that very thing that had sent her back to Chauesser. She'd had many a nightmare about wandering through the empty streets of the city looking…looking for that which she'd lost, nay that had been taken from her. Those dreams had been frequent, and were now quite predictable.
What dream possessed her now, was one she'd not had in a great number of years…and it was the one she feared most, that caused her the greatest agony. In her sleep she began to roll from one side to the other, holding onto her mid-section as if seized in the grip of a great pain. Oh how she'd writhed this way and that. Her nightgown now soaking with sweat, her brow furrowed her lips pursed but parted slightly as her staggered breath began rushing in and out between her lips. She'd nearly doubled herself over, grasping at her stomach as she did.
She could hear the words, "push now, push!" She groaned in her sleep as she clutched at the sides of her bed, pulling the cover out from the top of the feather ticking. "Once more, push!" Her body went limp, she was gasping. She began to cry. She'd heard a faint cry, some hushed words, and everyone had left the room.
In her dream she shuddered, her body going cold. The damp cloths covered in water and blood lay beneath her trembling body. She not been tended to, but abandoned in the dark of the barely lit room. It seemed like hours before the small midwife who'd been with the doctor came in carrying a basin of warm water and began to care for her. She'd applied a damp cloth to her forehead, and delicately laid another over her cheeks.
Not a word was exchanged between the women, as the woman spoke only German, and she'd not had a word of it in her education. Soon she'd assisted her in sitting up, sliding a fresh nightgown over her, leading her to the chair that sat by the window. She'd been far to weak to stand, yet nothing she did seemed to alleviate the great pains she'd had.
It wasn't long and the woman had changed the coverings on the bed, and had helped her recline once more. She handed her a glass of cool water, and patted her shoulder and was gone.
She once again found herself alone in the room. She'd known her father's intentions, it was going to live with a relative in a far off land, she'd start a new life, and forget all that had happened there. She'd only wanted to see it…just once… She watched the door to the room with bated breath. Surely they'd come to tell her what it was, let her hold it just once.
Her breath caught in her throat as the door slowly creaked open, a rather ashen faced doctor entering the room. He himself was not long out of school no doubt, looking to be not many years older than she. He walked over to her, pulling her hand into his. "I am sorry my dear young miss…."
The woman sat up in her bed gasping. She looked around the room, thrashing about as if she'd wandered into a hornet's nest. She'd not had that hideous dream in years! She'd wanted to believe so badly all those long years, that it just had not been so. Though the harder she tried to rid herself of the memory, it was there, as clear as fine cut crystal, showing the many facets of a life she might have had…one she'd been deprived of. She rolled herself into a ball in the middle of her bed, drawing her legs up against her chest.
Perhaps it had been roused by Victoria's death. A final chapter of the book of mystery coming to a close. She'd been in no more a position to control the events that had played out these last days leading to the woman's death, than she'd had been so very many years ago. Fate was a cruel thing she thought. For one sin…one simple sin…had derprived her of her father's love and respect, the possibility of marriage because of her stubbornness, and the one…the small tender life that had begun…she began to weep bitterly…more so than she had in years.
Dear Faithfuls: Be sure to look in your e-mails. If you've reviewed the last two chapters, there should be a response for you today! Bon Nuit!