The undertaker walked outside, looking this way and that down LeMortem Street. A few of the other undertakers had emerged from their buildings, stretching, all looking like they'd had their fill of work, and were in desperate need of fresh air. They nodded at one another, it had been busy for all of them.
Perdue scratched at his chin, lifting the small piece of rather yellowed paper from his pocket. It was old and tattered, no doubt part of a family's inheritance. He opened it, looking at the words once more. "Plot 27, single". He'd already dispatched his men to locate the plot and dig the hole necessary for the burial. It had to take place today, the law insisted upon it. Cold or not, prepared or not she had been too many days dead. As it was he wasn't certain the truth had not been extended a day or more.
He stretched, a mere utterance "one on her way, four more to go." Then he ventured back in.
XXXXXXX
The young apprentice pulled the last of the white covering over the woman's face. He'd completed the ablution, and had dressed her in her proper garments. "She's ready for the casket sir," he called out to his employer. The man had been sitting in the other room sipping from his cold cup of coffee for more than an hour.
He turned to join the boy. An apprentice always had the final work to do in preparing a body, and there had been very little that needed doing on this one, it having arrived already bled.
"Very well, let us see to it." He walked to the back room, assisting the young man in making movement to the box, laying her to rest inside. "Did the man instruct where she was to be buried?" The elder man inquired as they positioned her in the center.
"No, he'd not said, though he did say in his note that he would be in this very day to make final settlement. Perhaps we can inquire of his intentions upon his arrival." The younger man said.
The older man looked a bit irritated. "No mention of what plot, what place? Surely she's not without one!" He exclaimed. His mind still wrestled with the strange man who'd come to town not weeks before and had no less than two women dead in his presence alone. It all seemed so very odd, very odd indeed. It had distracted him from all normal thoughts.
The young man looked at him rather disgustedly. It mattered little to him. He had a faith in people that the elder man seemed to lack. "If the man said he'd be in to take care of the arrangements, then I should think he shall. He seems to be a man of his word." The man lowered the cover to the box, closing the woman inside.
"Ah yes, but what of his words…we know nothing of this man, nothing at all."
The young man was shaking his head behind the undertaker whose back was now turned. "In time we shall sir. He's already paid you for one unfortunate woman, we've no reason to believe otherwise of the man." He disappeared behind the wall, pouring water from the pitcher, beginning to wash his hands up to his elbows. Perhaps he was a bit more affable than his elder counterpart, but he saw no reason to assume the worst.
The older man just stood, staring out the window. Perhaps he'd become a bit too jaded. Years in the business of caring for the remnants of the dead had likely helped in his rather faulted impression of people. Still he could not help but wonder if the man had some arrant ways not yet revealed.
He crooked his head, if his eyes did not deceive him, there was a rather finely dressed young woman maneuvering through the snow on the esplanade, accompanied by a young man. Not far in the distance was a sleigh…..he knew it well…though he only saw it twice a year. It was regal and larger than any others he'd ever seen, save the royal carriages of course, but that carriage belonged to one woman, and one only, Lady C. Now his only mystery that remained was, who might this young couple be?
He watched as they approached the porch, knocking the snow from the bottom of their boots. They briefly hesitated at the door, not being certain if it were proper to knock first at such an establishment. The man smiled, surely they'd no experience in this manner of things. He walked to the door, opening it. "Welcome!" He said with a heartily outstretched hand to the young man. "Do come in." He looked over the pair of them, quickly assessing that neither of them were yet twenty. No doubt a family member had died and they'd not know what to do. He loved the young and naïve. No, he'd not gouge them for money, but rather play on their sorrows, convincing them of all the things that they would need to show their loved one proper respect. They appeared to have a bit of money, so the source of payment was not his chief concern.
The man focused on the younger man, nearly ignoring the young lady until she came forward, quite directly saying to him; "we've come on behalf of Monsieur Courtland. I was instructed to deliver this," she handed him the bundle of funds, "and this," she said, handing him the sealed envelope containing the note which Stephan had entrusted to her.
The undertaker looked at the pair with curious eyes, glancing back and forth between them. He looked at the young man, walking over to him. "What is this, can you not speak?" He said in a chiding, sardonic manner.
He simply stared at him, then glanced at Misty who was giving him a stern look of consternation. "She's in charge sir!"
The man began to laugh heartily at his reply. "No doubt she is!" the man said as he opened first the thick envelope of money, carefully counting it, his eyebrows raised. It was certainly sufficient funds to cover any expense he'd have in caring for the woman's body.
He glanced at them, laying it down on the counter, ripping open the second envelope, removing the note from it. He glanced over their shoulders. He could see someone dismounting the sleigh that was now situated across the street from his establishment. No doubt whomever it was that Lady C had sent on her behalf, had come to inquire who had deceased during the storm. He'd give them their full attention once this matter was settled.
He unfolded the note quickly reading it.
My Good Man: Please see to the final disposition of this woman. Whatever her daughter and granddaughter are in need of in terms of the woman's burial, please see to it that it is provided for them without delay. I shall trust that you will find a suitable plot, perhaps near a tree and stream for the woman. Once all has been completed, please allow me the courtesy of the knowledge of her final disposition. I would prefer that the matter in which her final expenses have been handled will remain a rather private matter. I've no wish to embarrass her family with knowledge of this in the community. I shall trust in you for the utmost discretion. – Monsieur Courtland.
The man refolded the paper looking Misty squarely in the eye. "You may tell Monsieur Courtland that all he's requested shall be done for him. I know just the place for the woman, and there is a tree and a babbling brook lay not far off." He paused. "And do tell him, that if he'd like, for a fee, I could provide a bench at the gravesite for her family to rest when they visit her."
Misty nodded, "I shall convey your thoughts to him good sir, we bid you good day." She was turning to leave, the boy who'd bitten his lip through the entire interchange, followed her closely, helping her to reaffix her cloak.
The bell on the door clinked, and in walked a rather tall gentleman. Misty gazed upon him with such wonder. He was tall, well dressed, well groomed, and as handsome a man as she could ever recall seeing. He walked passed her, tipping his top hat in greeting to her and the young man.
"Ahh Andre. No doubt you've come to retrieve a list for Lady C. I shall have it for you. It is a rather short list, compared to what would have been expected in the wake of the storm." The undertaker turned and was walking back toward his office.
"No good sir. It is true, I am here on the business of our dear Lady, but that is not the matter I've need to discuss with you."
Misty was not truly trying to eavesdrop, but the man, Andre, spoke with such a clear crisp tone, they could make out his every word with veritable ease.
"I am here on the matter of Victoria. I am afraid that I do not know her last name."
Misty had pulled her cloak around her and was prepared to leave, her young companion reaching for the door.
"What say you of her name?" The undertaker said. He'd prepared five women and two men in the last day alone, only several of which he knew well enough to know their names.
Andre looked about a bit irritated to find that the young couple had not yet departed. "The woman, the one who was brought here from the tavern the evening before."
"Yes, she is ready," he looked at Andre, "why is it that you inquire?"
"Lady C wishes to be certain that all her arrangements have been taken care of, and funds provided for her disposition." The undertaker began to laugh, causing Andre to fidget in irritation. "What is it that amuses you so good man?" He knew of Lady C's great disdain for the man, she thought him to be a bete noire (someone particularly detested or avoided) and he must say, he rather agreed with her opinion of him!
"Allow me to introduce you?" The man walked from behind the counter, quickly approaching Misty as she prepared to depart. "My lady," he said, taking her hand. "My good sir," he said walking her over to Andre. "My lady, this is Andre, he is the envoy for our dear Lady C."
Misty shook his hand, immediately hearing Stephan's words replaying in her mind… "speak with no one except the undertaker". She'd be proper and formal. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance Monsieur." She said, curtseying politely.
The undertaker turning to Andre, "this young squire, as fate would have it, deposited her here at this precise moment of your arrival! She is a young miss from the very man's home, whose become quite the local hero in these last days. On top of all other gestures, he's sent her on his behalf to take care of the very thing you've come to inquire about for Lady C!"
Misty was aghast. She'd heard rumor of Lady C, though she'd never been to one of her celebrations, nor seen the woman. She'd heard much about her kindness and benevolence. All of Chauesser seemed to have a fond affection for her.
Andre took both of Misty's hands into his, shaking them as if she were a long forgotten friend. "Dear lady, what is your name?" He looked her in the eye with great anticipation.
She stammered, "Misty, Monsieur."
He smiled at her widely. "Now dear lady, do call me by my given name Andre. I am certainly not yet a Monsieur, nor squire," he turned smiling at the flattery with which the undertaker had addressed him. "It is true that I do act on Lady C's behalf." He was smiling profusely, though Misty could not imagine why. "It is as if fortune has smiled upon me this very day!" He asseverated, leading her over to a bench in the outer room, a bit out of earshot of the unusually interested undertaker. Young Thomas followed them, closing the door between the two rooms to afford them a bit of privacy.
The undertaker grimaced. He was rather curious as to what business the two of them would make such friendly acquaintance. He sighed, perhaps it would be revealed in due course.
Andre smiled as he and Misty sat on the bench. Thomas had proved to be a most unusual companion, entirely more respectful and proper than Misty had ever envisioned he would be. He walked out of doors, pulling the door closed behind him.
"Dear lady, may I be so forward as to call you by name?"
Misty nodded. Andre had a pleasant demeanor, brilliant smile, and conducted himself with acute aplomb, making her swoon, quickly winning her over.
He nodded, "then dear lady…Misty…I shall tell you of what fortune it is that you and I should meet in this very place. If I'd remembered the envelope, we'd have missed one another entirely…it was simply fated." He was looking at her with such thankfulness.
Misty turned her head a bit to the side, she did not understand.
Andre apologized. "I am sorry, this makes no sense to you at all I'm certain. You see, Lady C has sent me to the village of Chauesser to tend to several matters of business on her behalf. She'd sent along with me a post I was to deliver to your master's home this very day!"
He smiled at her, her eyes growing wide….Stephan would truly not have approved, he'd specified, no visitors!
"You see, in my haste I'd left the envelope on the table in my quarters. I'd had to return for it, delaying shamefully, my schedule of tasks. Truly I'd feared I'd not have them all done before the young sun would have started to diminish thus forcing my return before I'd completed all I'd been sent to the City for!"
Misty was beginning to understand the man's excitement. Their unexpected crossing of paths would save him the trip, for surely she could deliver the post herself. Their meeting indeed had been most opportune!
Andre smiled at her. Something about her made him feel as though he could trust her to keep his confidences, though truly they'd be revealed the very next day. "You see Misty, Lady C heard of your master's, Monsieur Courtland's rather selfless act in rescuing the poor Victoria. True it is rather sad that she'd not lived long, but at least she'd been in the company of her loved ones. Had he not found her, she might very well still be lost. You see, Lady C has long looked for another she could trust in this City, someone who would share in her altruistic ventures." He was looking Misty squarely in the eye, handing her the thick ivory envelope. "You see, though I do not truly know the contents of this envelope, I can tell that it contains much more than a simple notice of her impending arrival at your master's house!" Misty gasped. "Are you alright Misty?" Andre said, a bit of sincere concern in his voice.
"Yes, quite." In truth she was terrified! Not only was this young man speaking of visiting himself, but what's more the golden benefactor of Chauesser herself! "My dear sir…Andre…if I might inquire…do you know when she intends to pay call on his family?"
Andre looked at her most sincerely, "on the morrow dear lady. That is why I was to deliver the post before mid-day so as to allow his household proper time to plan for her arrival."
Misty's mind was darting this way and that. She'd have to delay. "I am terribly sorry to inform you that the Monsieur and his wife have departed the City for Paris, to attend…to attend a funeral. They'll not return until Sunday, or perhaps the day after."
Andre settled back against the bench. "Four days? They'll not be back before then dear lady?"
Misty was nodding, "I'm quite afraid that is true. I dare say they'd not be prepared to take visitors until Tuesday, perhaps Wednesday of the week next."
She glanced at the floor. She knew it not to be true, but in truth, she really didn't know how long it would be before they'd return. Stephan had said he thought a day or two perhaps….this would give them a bit of time.
"I see," Andre said, looking rather disappointedly at the floor. "Lady C will be quite distressed to learn of this delay. She'd so looked very forward to speaking with him, long ahead of the festival that arrives not two weeks from now. Perhaps you could give this to the Monsieur when he returns, and then send us a reply, letting us know what would be suitable for him to receive her."
Misty was nodding, Andre had been rather accommodating. "I shall do as you propose. I will give him the note straightaway when he arrives." She stood, walking toward the door. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance…Andre." She nodded at him.
He rose walking over to open the door for her, but rested his palm against it. Lady C would be most grateful for whatever information that he'd brought to her about the man. "Do tell me, what is the gentleman like, away from the City, in the leisure of his own home? Is he as humble as he appeared to be whilst in the City?"
Misty smiled at him, reaching out for the door handle, "more so Andre, more so. He is a wonderful, respectful, honorable man sir. He has taken good care of his household, even in his absence he'd provided for their every need. Now that he occupies the house, he is gentle and patient, and not too demanding of us. He is a doting husband…most pleased by even the slightest efforts of his wife." She smiled at Andre. "He is one of the finest men I've had opportunity to know in my lifetime sir."
Andre smiled with great pleasure. That would be well received by Lady C. Yes well received indeed. "Are you off to return to the house or have you other business to attend to in the City?" Andre inquired looking Misty in the eye.
"We are to return straightaway after delivering the instructions and funds to the undertaker. We've much to do there. Monsieur Courtland is a generous soul, though he does not take kindly to idle behavior!"
Andre laughed, it too was something the households had in common! "I shall look forward to your post upon Monsieur Courtland's return. Perhaps you and I shall see one another at the celebration!"
Misty smiled, "perhaps we shall." She tugged at the door, and he opened it for her, providing proper escort to Thomas who had been waiting most patiently outside in the cold.
Andre smiled as he watched them walk away. He turned, returning to the undertaker. "Now good sir, everything then has been set in order for the woman?"
The undertaker was nodding, "yes, the only thing I've need to acquire now is the plot to put her in! The man was specific, he'd wanted one by a tree, and a stream if possible…he wanted it to be pleasant when her family visited her."
Andre smiled profusely. It seems as if fortune had paid him yet another visit! "Dear sir, look no further. Lady C has provided a plot for her. She'd had it a number of years already, and wished for me to convey to you that she preferred that you use that plot for the woman's disposition."
The undertaker smiled too…..he'd been paid for the plot, and now one had quite literally fallen into his lap, and he'd done nothing save introduce the two people! "I shall see to it right away!" He said as he watched Andre don his hat once more.
"Do tell me, how are the preparations coming for the festival?"
Andre smiled at him as he reaffixed his cloak. "They are getting on quite well sir, I do thank you for inquiring!" With that he was gone. He was rather glad to be out of the company of that man. No, he'd not had any wholly unpleasant encounters with him, there was just something that nagged at him about the man. Now he'd be on to the mercantile and then off to the Inn whilst the shopkeeper scurried about filling his order.
He'd be home in time for an early supper if he so chose, and a nice long visit with Lady C.
Misty and Thomas were already at the City's edge. Save the one unavoidable contact at the undertaker, she'd done exactly as she had been instructed. Monsieur Courtland was bound to be pleased with her. Now she carried word of an impending visit from Lady C. She knew they'd have at least four days time to prepare the house for the visit…she hoped that they'd have everything ready before then. Now all she'd have to decide is whether she wanted to send a post to Paris, though was not certain where in the city she would find them.
XXXXX
In the room full of colored fabrics a couple in love shared all that they had with one another. Though the atelier was empty, and all was silent in all other ways, their love screamed at the top of its lungs, calling out to the very reaches of their pasts, to the very distance of their futures, claiming ownership over it all. Now they pair lay resting in one another's arms. Though they were tired they could not sleep, they wanted nothing more than to bask in the glow of being reunited once more.
Erik sat up, pulling Christine up with him. She leaning against his bare chest, he running his hand mindlessly up and down the length of her exposed arm. She turned placing a gentle kiss upon his chest.
He pulled himself up to the edge of the divan, looking at Christine over his shoulder. She was smiling at him with such sleepy eyes. She reached out for him. He took her outstretched hand into his. Standing he led her to her feet, wrapping a blanket beneath her arms around her chest, and bunched it beneath her arm. He turned retrieving one for himself, wrapping it around his waist. Taking her hand once more into his, he lifted her knuckles to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on them. He led her over to the door that opened out into the cooridor.
He squinted just slightly as his eyes took in the brightness of the sun that shone in through the windows of the outer rooms. He turned to look at Christine. She'd no question in her eye…it was as if she'd known where he was taking her without his ever having to utter a word.
As they stepped out into the hallway, it was clear that the remainder of the house was not nearly so pleasant as that room had been. As they passed down the hall, they felt a warm sensation about their ankles. Erik smiled, the woman had anticipated their arrival in the room. As he led Christine into the parlor they were greeted by a warm fire. Erik took Christine into an embrace, leading her back and shoulders to his chest, he resting his head next to hers.
The pair gazed on the pictures together, searching each one without a word. He held her one hand in his, laying their intertwined fingers lightly over her stomach. The other hand he held in his resting on her collarbone, his thumb sliding gently on the flesh of her neck. Their thoughts flying back over the distance of years that were covered by each loving painting. They had both been there, for each and every one of the experiences, it was a history, a past, that they had shared together, captured forever on canvas for generations to come to view, though the details so precious to the artist would be lost over time. For now, they reveled in it. Not only in the methods and mediums employed to complete each work…but of the life they'd shared for so very long. Truly they'd been married but a few months…but they'd been joined in an intangible way…for years.