Dear Faithfuls:
Yet another longer chapter. I'm updating today, as Friday I will be out of town yet again, but this time for a social event. I'm going to a large city an hour's drive from where I live to participate in festivities for celebrating St.Patrick's Day. Now, a confession, I am not Irish, but have oft admired the culture, and the Country. It will be a welcome break from all things serious. We all need a frivolous diversion every now and then, and a dear friend of mine reminded me of it just the other day…take time to breathe…and so I shall.
I hope you enjoy this chapter. The next is sure to be a bit hair-raising to be certain….sorry for the hint! I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend, and I want to renew my sentiment that I am most ardently looking forward to March being over so that I might return to my more frequent chapters, and to the replying to all of your reviews. I do continue to read them, and some days, they are the brightest spot in them! Take care everyone, your faithful Angel Dreamer.
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Erik lifted Christine's abundant, flowing tresses of hair from her back, draping them over her shoulder so that he might tend to the ribbons at the back of the gown. "The woman does such fine work does she not?" Erik was referring to the gown he'd just fitted on Christine, it was one that had come from the seamstress in Paris.
Christine smoothed her hand over the fabric, admiring its' beautiful simplicity. It had been the first she'd worn the dress, not having figure enough until the present to fill it out without appearing ridiculous. She ran her hand over and over her mid-section thoughtfully. "Indeed she most certainly does my love." She turned about in Erik's arms. "My dear husband I love you."
"Yes Christine, I know, and I love you." Erik leaned forward kissing her forehead. He was eager to take her to her breakfast, and the surprise that would follow it.
Christine grasped Erik's hand; she wanted him to understand what he meant to her. "Erik, I mean sincerely, that I love you deeply, have come to love you more with each passing day." She brought his hand to her stomach. "You have amazed me, thrilled me, cared for me, protected me, sheltered me, nurtured me, entertained me….fulfilled me."
Her hand rose, the palm resting on the side of Erik's cheek. "I have grown in ways that I shan't have thought possible since we left the Opera House. Erik, in those years we spent in one another's company, me coming to love you in spirit…not knowing of the body you inhabited…" Christine ran her hand along Erik's chest; he stood speechless. She still had the power to enchant him with her words, genuineness of sentiment, but most of all with the slightest touch of her hand.
"Erik, it is days such as this one that we have spent in one another's company that have revealed to me the depths of your love, the depths of your intellect, and with what intensity you have studied the human condition. It seems to me that you have thought out and anticipated my every need or desire before I've even arrived at the realization myself."
She smiled at him as he stared down into her eyes, gently tugging at one of the tendrils of her hair. "One could not be accurate, so perfectly precise, without a great deal of toil and thought; lest they be clairvoyant of course!" The last comment making both of them smile. "I oft have thought that I have so little means to show the depth of my gratitude, save my affections of course."
Erik was about to protest, to offer Christine correction, for surely her very presence was all the thankfulness, all the assurance of her gratitude that he needed.
"Dearest Erik, I want for you to know how very much you mean to me, how you have penetrated every pore of my being, so much so that I feel that you exist even in each breath that I exhale. Your love has enraptured and encircled me. It encompasses my every waking thought, and every dream that I wander in my slumber. To have such a man as my husband makes me I dare say, the most blessed creature alive." She kissed Erik lightly on the lips.
"Know that when I say that I love you, that in those words rest a most intense sentiment that the language alone cannot fully describe. When I say I love you, I am thanking you for nurturing me. When I say I love you, I am expressing my gratitude for your years of patient attention, receiving nothing in return. When I say I love you, I am wanting you to know how grateful I am that you rescued me from a life that would never have produced a great love such as we share. When I say I love you, I am conveying to you my most earnest gratitude for your entrusting me with the greatest privilege of carrying your children, and bearing the title of your wife."
Christine paused, looking deeply into Erik's eyes, brushing away the stray tear that ran down his cheek. "Finally, when I say I love you, I am proclaiming that I could not imagine a day of my life that would not be filled with great sorrow if you were not in it, for you have become everything to me. Until my dying breath I shall be forever devoted and loyal to making you as happy a man as I have capacity to do." Christine stared into Erik's eyes, a love so radiant it made her very face glow. "Erik, my husband, my lover, father to those within my womb….I love you…now and forever more love you." Christine stretched as far as she might, kissing Erik's cheek.
Erik could not speak lest he detract from the beauty of her words. To know, to hear the voice he'd admired, the sentiment from the heart of his wife…after all this time…it was as if he could feel the last wound of the flesh of his heart healing into a whole.
Carefully, he slid his arms around Christine, lifting her gently into his arms. There had never been anything that he wouldn't have done for her to ensure her happiness. What he'd never expected was how truly happy, how truly loved she could make him feel. Everything he'd ever done for her, he'd done with no expectation of return, and yet, somehow this tender creature had come full circle from curious girl, to admiring adolescent, to enrapturing woman, and she'd enthralled him…mind…body…and soul. He could barely breathe, and when he did, he was certain he too could sense her in his exhale.
Erik pressed his lips against Christine's, softly whispering to her, "my love, my love, how my heart soars on wings of angels to hear such professions, and I my dear…..I love you."
Once more into his arms he lifted Christine going out the door into the hallway, still festooned with a carpet of rose petals. He moved quietly down the hall, humming into her ear the song he had written for her so long ago…it was soothing….soothing to them both.
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Misty stood just inside the door to the room she'd prepared for them. She'd come to see if Monsieur Courtland still had intentions of breakfast, or if a more suitable lunch should be prepared. She'd been perplexed when he'd not come an hour before for surely he'd mentioned they would. Hearing nothing but muffled conversation, she would make no assumptions. She turned and ventured back down the long hallway, smiling at the rose petals that fluttered here and there. She doubted she would ever have opportunity to see a man more romantic, or set on pleasing a woman that Monsieur Courtland. Elizabeth was an angelic creature to be certain, and a most fortunate woman indeed to have such a doting husband.
Misty smiled as she descended the stairs. She'd see to it the other maids did not disturb them. When Monsieur Courtland came to retrieve her, or offer revision to his plans, she would see to sweeping up the petals. She'd not have the condescending tone of the eldest maid spoil the perfect act of romanticism ruined by her bitter conjectures.
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Erphan walked out of the mercantile and back to the carriage, climbing in where the driver and JP sat waiting.
"The carriages from Paris will not arrive until later this afternoon. The shopkeeper thought by afternoon tea that they would be nearing Chauesser." Erphan came to rest on the seat across. "Gentlemen, we've some decisions to make. We could go back to the winter house and tend to the yard, but then we'd be hardly presentable for dining in the City." They all nodded in agreement. "Taking in lunch would be agreeable, though we've hours until the carriages arrive, and one can stay only so long at a tavern after they've finished." He sighed. "I suppose we could have lunch, and then return to the mercantile making use of the smoking room."
JP cocked his head to the side, "but Erphan not one of us partakes of such things, how might we justify such actions?"
Erphan exhaled a bit irritated. "I would suppose you would have us sit in the tea area supping Earl Grey and nibbling on crumpets?" A mocking tone, and a bit of a sheepish grin on his face as he glanced at the carriage driver.
JP's eyes darted back and forth between them. "Yes most certainly you find folly in my reply, but it would be a far improved situation than sitting inside this carriage for hours with the pair of you!" He moved toward the door, unlatching it and pushing his way out, latching it behind him.
Erphan looked at the driver. "He's a wee bit sensitive is he not? Perhaps a pot of tea and scones would be most advantageous to his disposition! He's not even realized I jested, as the mercantile is not even open for guests on Sundays, but the doors remained open for the drivers of the carriages that were needed." The pair laughed.
JP walked away from the carriage and up the stairs, coming to rest on the rather generous bench outside the mercantile. He was never fond of teasing, and least of all when he was the object of it. He rubbed his hands together, trying to regain his composure.
The churches were letting out, and he could see the swarms of children trying to release their pent up anxiousness, running a bit of their parents. The rains had cleared and though the sun had yet to find its way through the clouds, the warmth was returning. He looked down at his boots for a long while. Erphan had drawn his ire, and though he was repentant for his actions, the thought of apology was one he could not readily swallow. He looked up as he heard a pair of footsteps on the walk leading up to the Mercantile.
"Good day to you sir!" John Paul called out to him, as he and Nicole walked arm and arm toward him. The doctor glanced toward the carriage, it was characteristically unmarked with crest or emblem.
"And to you sir," he extended his hand toward John Paul. He nodded toward Nicole, and she returned the same. "You are the new physician are you not?" JP inquired, looking back and forth between he and Nicole.
"I am as you say, new to Chauesser, though I have practiced a bit before coming here. You see my grandfather was once the great physician of this fair city." John Paul said, smiling in polite manner. "Do you know sir, have the carriages arrived from Paris?"
JP shook his head, "I'm quite afraid that they shan't arrive until afternoon tea." He smiled at the doctor and the young lady on his arm.
"I see," said John Paul. He glanced up at Nicole who was standing rather silently at his side. "Oh forgive my rudeness. Have you met my fiancé?"
Nicole blinked, a sudden blush rushing into her cheeks. The word…fiancé…it sounded like melted gold dripping from his lips. She nodded again, as the young man acknowledged her.
"I did not know that you'd brought a fiancé with you on your travels?" JP said, feeling as though the time spent at Courtland Manor had caused them to miss so very much indeed.
John Paul smiled, looking at Nicole who held onto his with an intent grasp. "No, I did not arrive in Chauesser with a betrothed. I had the good fortune of making the acquaintance of this fine woman several months ago, and we became engaged just yesterday."
"My congratulations to you both!" JP smiled nodding once again. An odd moment of silence fell among them.
"Sir, might I ask, do you know if the mercantile is open for receipt of carriages from other cities?" John Paul inquired. He felt very much like he knew of the young man's association, and thought it fortuitous, but he'd want to confirm his suspicions before he'd inquire further.
"Why yes, that is the only reason the door remains ajar this afternoon." JP smiled again, feeling a bit awkward as the doctor looked at the carriage and back at him.
"That is wonderful news. You see we've need to see the shopkeeper. I am looking for the location of Monsieur Courtland, and I believe that the shopkeeper knows how to reach his household." John Paul was at this point very certain that this indeed was one of Courtland's staff, but he'd wait for confirmation.
JP looked at him quizzically, remembering Erphan's admonitions. "Might I inquire as to why you seek to find Monsieur Courtland?"
John Paul knew in an instant. "You see, when last I had opportunity to visit with the man, he left behind several items that I should very much like to return to him…personally."
JP smiled extending his hand heartily to the doctor. "It is indeed a fortunate day for you then sir, for I am in Monsieur Courtland's employ as are the two others sitting in the carriage just there." JP pointed toward the carriage. "We've returned to Chauesser for the purposes of retrieving a visitor that is to arrive on the carriage this afternoon."
John Paul smiled, he had been correct. Now, if he were able to solicit an address, he would then make plans to deliver a message with this young man, and he and Nicole could pay a proper visit to return the items. As much as he longed to relieve Nicole's conscience, he was equally curious to discover how Monsieur Courtland had obtained the books in the first.
"How very excellent, perhaps you'd be so kind as to tell us how we might go about paying he and his wife a visit?" John Paul looked hopefully at the younger man.
"Well…perhaps it shan't be a problem…." JP began to mutter. They were never to speak of where Courtland Manor was in a particular sense. Vaguely it was well known that it was far south of Chauesser, but no more. "Would you please excuse me?" He nodded slightly just once toward the doctor, and Nicole. "I've need to converse with my…with…do pardon me." JP turned, making his way quickly toward the carriage.
"Whatever on earth could they have been talking about so ardently?" The carriage driver said to Erphan.
"Heaven knows only. He has not always been known for his ability to converse easily with those who are strange to him." Erphan no longer watched JP but rather the pair that stood as if awaiting his return. "Whatever could they have asked him that would require a reply?" Erphan sighed heavily as JP arrived at the side of the carriage.
John Paul and Nicole looked on while the young man climbed into the carriage. "Nicole, let us hope that whomever is inside that carriage finds our suggestion agreeable. I would very much like to have opportunity to discuss the books with the Monsieur." He turned, carefully tucking Nicole's hand over his forearm, walking over to the bench. "We shall have to wait my dear. It will not be long that your conscience will have to suffer, nor my curiosity burn. There must be good explanation for the coincidence, though it does seem rather odd."
They sat waiting and watching a long while as the carriage jostled this way and that. At the end JP emerged. He'd a look of frustration on his face that could not be denied. As he walked toward the doctor and Nicole, he tried to smile politely, though they could quite easily tell that he'd no desire to disappoint them, but had been given a directive contrary to what he would have wished.
JP stood before them, "I am to convey the greatest of thanks to you and your fiancé for the return of Monsieur Courtland's property. At present it would not be possible to have an audience with Monsieur Courtland as he has instructed that they receive no visitors…" JP thinking quickly as he'd already confessed that the reason for their trip to Chauesser that day was indeed to pick up a visitor. "I've been instructed that we would be most pleased to return the items you mentioned to Monsieur Courtland, and I give you my word that it would arrive in his hands as soon as we've returned." JP looked at the doctor, hoping this was a suitable alternative to delivery in person.
John Paul's disappointment was not easily concealed. "I'd rather hoped to have a word with the Monsieur myself," he said reflectively. "You see, I knew very little of my grandfather's life here in Chauesser. I am persuaded that the Monsieur might have known my grandfather, if only for a brief time before his death." John Paul sighed. He'd wished to have known what the books themselves contained, and now, for Nicole's sake, he might never know. "You see, my grandfather himself had books that were very nearly identical to those that are in that bag. Perhaps Monsieur Courtland would be kind enough to arrange a meeting when he and his wife return to Chauesser."
Nicole looked up at John Paul, she knew how very much he wanted to speak with the man about the books. It simply could not be a coincidence, nor could it be that they were not somehow connected. She came forward, handing the bag with the books to the young man. "The doctor's grandfather meant a great deal to him. To find someone who might have known him as a younger man, would mean the world to him. Please convey as much to Monsieur Courtland won't you? Oh, and do tell him that my mother is doing as well as can be expected, and that I think of his generous kindness often."
JP nodded. "I shall see to it dear lady." He glanced back and forth between the doctor and the young woman. "Might I share with him the news of your engagement?" He inquired, trying to leave the conversation on a more affable footing.
Nicole smiled at the young man. "You most certainly may."
JP turned with a smile, nodding toward the bag before he returned to the carriage and it pulled casually away and down the cobblestone.
John Paul turned to Nicole, leading her by the hand down the walkway. "It is for the best my dear. I've no doubt, he being a man of honor, will not receive such a return without a proper reply." He patted her hand on his arm. "There shall be time to inquire of the relation between the books of my grandfather's and that of his. At present you shall be able to rest in the knowledge that you've returned what burdened you my dear. Now we've much more to consider. My father once arrived, will have quite a little adjusting to manage." John Paul, paused, slowly moving from Nicole's side to stand in front of her. "My dearest Nicole," he said, taking up both of her hands, "I feel most compelled to tell you of my arrival at what will appear to most to be a hasty decision." He looked about, and spying a bench under a tree near the park, took her hand leading Nicole over to sit.
John Paul's affections were all so new to Nicole. Her emotions, as he led her, ranged from disbelief, to thankfulness, to utter bliss. She felt as if she were watching in on the life of another. With every step she reviewed over and over again, how they'd moved from utter strangers, to friends out of necessity, to a quasi family of sorts, to this…and she could not describe with words what this present circumstance was. For she'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to behold romantic love…so long it had been denied her.
As John Paul carefully seated her on the bench, taking her hands once more into his, she allowed herself to look at him, to really look at him. Not as the doctor that tended to her grandmother, not the doctor who cared for her mother, not the companion with whom she'd made a business arrangement, but as a man. The man who had asked her to be his bride. With all of the former mentions of his embodiment as doctor and friend, she could remain at a safe distance, keeping a harsh guard about her heart for they threatened it not. But as a man pledging to love and care for her until they were parted by death itself…she was vulnerable. She was even now in denial that such a love could, after all this time, find its way to her.
John Paul was not nervous, nor did his heart or mind waiver as his eyes met Nicole's. He smiled, a genuineness that would have disarmed the most cynical, radiating in his face.
"Nicole, I must first confess to you that when I came to Chauesser, the singular thought that occupied my mind was that of finding some way of making a way through what I'd set upon to be a most dreary year, far from all of the comforts and distractions of a cosmopolitan city such as Paris." He sighed. "My only solace was that I'd have time to sort through my grandfather's things at my leisure, and if it be fate, that I would find some way to improve the social condition of such a tiny hamlet." He laughed, "I'd rather expected Chauesser to be a bit medieval, barbaric in its manner and civility. The descriptions of letters from my grandfather, I was certain, were exaggerated, for no city so far from Paris could have culture and refinement." He smiled at Nicole, smoothing his hand over hers, the touch of a fiancé still foreign to him. "All this to tell you Nicole that I'd so many misconceptions about this City that I'd nearly spoiled all opportunity for myself before I'd even arrived."
Nicole smiled at John Paul. So much of what he'd said she'd already known from bits and pieces of dozens of conversations. She knew him to be a man of pointed brevity in all matters, but it seemed when emotion seized him, his tongue and verse became unbridled.
"Nicole, my misconceptions nearly led me to miss what opportunities lay before me. I'd no intentions of anything in regard to a future in Chauesser." He smiled at her, slowly leaning forward kissing her brow. "You see I'd no intentions of coming to care for the people of this City, but I have. I'd no intentions of finding such a small City preferable to a large one, but I have. I'd no intentions of becoming enamored with my grandfather's house, but I have seen him there, healing, helping…doing what he was born to do…if only in the shadows of my imagination…his house has become a part of me, as surely as if were one of my limbs. I'd no intentions of suiting anyone, nor finding anyone even slightly agreeable for anything more than an occasional dinner companion…but what I found was far more."
He glanced down at Nicole's hands. He marveled at their warmth and softness…their strength. "Nicole, I never expected that I would find a woman whom I could come to care for as deeply as I have you. It was nothing short of an utter surprise to my mind when my heart began to grow a strong affection for you. First I tried to dismiss it as admiration of the noblest kind. Then I tried to tell myself that it was our shared interest in the plight of those less fortunate in health that led me to feelings of respect for you. Then, as I watched with what care and happiness you did every task, even the most arduous of them….I began to realize the admiration bordered on jealousy. How could one making such sacrifices to her own life for the sake of another be happy in the affairs of everyday life? I admit it puzzled me, and I longed to learn from you, if not for my own benefit, then surely for the benefit of others whom I might have opportunity to council in my years of practice that lay ahead. I studied you. Your movements, your words, your manners, the way you ate, how you rested….how you prayed."
John Paul paused, such confessions did not come easily to him. "Nicole the more I watched, the more I observed, I came to understand that I was not jealous of you, but instead had found one who was everything that I was not; someone who had strength where I was weak. It confused me, perplexed me. One day, not long ago, it came to me why I struggled with it so…it was because I was feeling something that was entirely foreign to me. My mind had always ruled my life, every action deliberate and pointed toward a goal. What I'd never experienced in my life was a time when my heart would try to overcome, nay, subdue my mind, allowing a far more potent feeling to overtake me." That was but the first part of his confession. He sighed, running his hand along hers.
"I sat one night watching you long after you'd fallen asleep on the divan by the fire. It had been a particularly grueling day. Your mother had not done well, the morning at the tavern had been difficult with unruly travelers being rude and disconcerting. You'd returned to my office to find me knee-deep in boxes, and you'd patiently, and without complaint, helped me to tidy up so we could prepare dinner. You'd come home, helped bathe and read to your mother as she ate her dinner, putting her to bed early, soothing her until she fell asleep. You'd returned to your own dinner, barely able to pick at it before abandoning it entirely." John Paul's began to glaze as he walked back into the memory of that liberating night.
"When I asked what I might do for you, you said the words that I shall never forget my dear." He smiled at Nicole, reaching up to touch his hand lightly along her cheek. "You turned to me, a bit of confusion on your face, and said…" he paused.
"In all things I am to remember to have a grateful heart John Paul, for we've no reason to question why God puts us where He did. He will always find us in the place that is most advantageous for His higher purpose, and we choose to either be happy and grateful, or bitter and retracted. Either way we are spending our life, and if we've no faith that God is in control of the greater things and cares for our happiness and welfare more deeply than we do, we are far more than lost, we are lost for eternity. Our circumstances may not be our choosing, but our choice to find happiness in it, most certainly lays at our feet."
He paused again, sliding closer to Nicole, for the first time embracing her with his arms as he had already in his mind. "My dear Nicole, it was then that I realized the struggle my mind waged with my heart. My mind had rationalized of a life far from here. But, my heart had found what it was searching for, and it would not be dissuaded….it had found you, and refused most tenaciously to let go, for in you it had found completeness." He looked deeply into her eyes, bringing his lips to rest against hers most gently.
Nicole could not breathe. In all the words she'd ever read or heard uttered, these were by far the most glorious music to her ears. A tear escaped first her left eye, and then her right, rolling down her cheeks.
John Paul leaned away, looking curiously at Nicole. "I'd no intentions of causing you tears Nicole, I wished only for you to know how my heart had come to love you, to know of my affections…"
Nicole inhaled, dabbing at the corners of her eye. "I can assure you John, the tears you see are of relief, of disbelief, but more than those things combined, of thankfulness. I have never allowed myself to have hope that I would one day even find a suitable match. And here I sit now, with the most handsome, eligible, man in all of Chauesser, and he has conveyed such eloquent utterances to my heart…I feel the most blessed woman you can imagine." Matters of the heart, it was abundantly clear, vexed both of them.
"All the struggles and cares washed away now by your professions of love. God has led us both here, through strange and difficult paths. But we've been faithful on the path that He has called us, and now it seems He's seen fit to bless us….these tears are tears of joy…I've never shed any in the entirety of my life. I too have come to love you, in so many similar ways John Paul."
She blushed, "the feelings I long held for you now no longer need be suppressed, and I dare say it frightens me a bit." Nicole had never made such a confession, and truly a proper lady would not have done as much. But, in her heart she wanted John Paul to know that she was indeed enamored with him, not only for his mind, but for his body and soul.
John Paul smiled. He being a gentleman could do nothing more than kiss her all the more tenderly. Knowing in his heart now that his affections were returned, his mind began to release the choke-hold it had on his heart. She was a perfect match for him. Out of obedience of his promise to his grandfather, had been born the most wonderful gift a life had to offer. To find a mate with whom to share one's life was a great accomplishment. But, to find the one whom you were meant for…that was a true blessing.
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Andre sat looking out at the late afternoon sky. Save the brief stop they'd made in Chauesser for several supplies, and to drop a post at the mercantile, they'd done little else but ride. His letter from lady Misty tucked safely in his pocket. He'd neither read it in front of Lady C, nor attempt to do so in the dark of the carriage. These things were best done when one had opportunity for complete privacy.
What fortune they'd had that Monsieur Courtland's staff had been at the mercantile awaiting a guest. Andre had been certain that Misty would have his letter by nightfall. He'd had to amend it to include the news he'd be away for several weeks with Lady C, and additional posts would be delayed, but she was not to worry.
He rubbed his chin, and found himself wondering just how far away Monsieur Courtland's Manor must be from any civilized city. He marveled at how shocked the man's staff had been when they learned from the carriage driver arriving from Paris, that Dickens had deceased, and plans were being made for a funeral. They'd scurried about, conversing with one another, going back and forth with the carriage driver before they'd taken their carriage and left in haste.
He glanced back at Lady C. How good this trip to Paris would be for her. Something in her had changed after Victoria's death. She was not one to revel in anyone's misfortune, and she had not. However, it seemed to him that there had been an odd release for her at the woman's passing, if however unfortunate it had been. For Andre to see her in a dress of such vibrant colors, a hat with a small plume, and in a carriage bound neither to nor from Chauesser was entirely out of character for her…and he smiled. She was ever a marvel to him, and had he selected a woman to admire since his mother's passing, he could have selected no finer a subject.
The carriage jostled on. Andre too leaned his head back closing his eyes. If he could neither read nor converse, he would dream. Dream of the house he might build on the lot in Chauesser, dream of the adventures they were certain to have on their travels to Paris, or dream of a life he might have with a certain woman…if ever that would come to pass.
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Erphan and JP hopped down from the carriage surveying the lawn. Indeed the grasses at the winter house had grown long and unruly. They'd not have been able to wait a week more or they'd have been taking down grass the length of their knees. They removed the sickles from the store beneath the carriage.
The driver had already ventured into the house. It was their routine. He would go in, checking the latches and locks on all of the doors and windows. Then he would change from his driving clothes into something more suitable for lawn work.
He found his way into the sunroom overlooking the lawn. His eye caught upon something fluttering in the far corner of the lawn, not far from the gate to the carriage house. He squinted trying to see more accurately what he thought it to be. It looked to be a long wooden shaft, the height of a normal man, with something attached at the end that fluttered in the wind.
He moved swiftly down the back stairs, checking the last of the locks and latches before he went out doors, making quick work of the lawn. Whatever it was, it had not found its way there by accident. As he came closer to it, he could see that it was indeed a polished wooden pole, approximately two meters in height, and on the end was a silken scarf of the deepest purple. There was some strange symbol that he did not recognize embroidered in black at the center of it. He reached out to grasp hold of it, but it was embedded so deeply into the soil it felt as if were a tree being pulled from its roots. Just then Erphan and JP came about the corner of the house.
"What have you there?" JP called out to the driver as they walked toward him.
"I do not know, but whomever placed it, had intention that it might neither blow over in the wind, nor be easily removed. I dare say it is quite solidly driven into the ground, and I am unable to dislodge it."
Without a word Erphan, JP, and the driver began to work on lifting the pole from the ground. They worked on it for some time before it ground released it, revealing a javelin shaped tip, nearly a meter of which was buried. It had been thrust into the soil with great force, and as such, was meant to be there for a good long while.
The three stood looking at it curiously. After several minutes Erphan spoke. "We will put it under the carriage. Monsieur Courtland can decide what's to be done with it." Erphan looked up at the sky. "I think it best that we see to the lawn, so this day not be utterly useless."
He picked up one of the sickles. "I'll begin here, and the two of you can retrieve the rocking chair that Monsieur Courtland requested." The pair nodded and headed off toward the house. Erphan looked at the pole. It reminded him of something that royal knights had used once upon a time during practice with a pugilist. He'd no idea where it might have come from or what it might mean. What he did know was that it was on his master's property, and therefore belonged to his master. Monsieur Courtland would certainly know what best to do with such things.
Erphan carried the stick back to the carriage, sliding it easily beneath. He turned abruptly, having the distinct inclination that he was somehow being observed. Whatever or whomever it was he would stay on the alert. It was likely, just his imagination. Sickle in hand he began his work. The great blade slicing through the tall grasses easily. Still, he could not shake the feeling that somewhere in the distance perhaps, someone was watching.
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Christine smiled up into Erik's eyes, she'd never felt more relaxed, nor happier than she did then. Their bond was forging with each wonderful memory that they added to it, and today…had already been full of memories. She looked so forward to whatever Erik had planned next.
The would-be breakfast had turned into high-tea as the morning waned and afternoon arrived. Erik turned into the room, carrying Christine over to the large ornate Elizabethan chair she was so very fond of. Christine gasped, a sharp pain ran through her head. She grabbed at her temples, shrieking in pain. Erik nearly dropped her as he set her down, kneeling before her, a horror in his eyes. "Christine, Christine….." That was the last she heard before the room went black.