Hey, everyone! Been a while hasn't it? I apologize for that. I had my surgery, everything is fine and dandy now. I am free of pain (yay!). I am currently working on chapter 22 for this. Chapter 21 was a pain and I rewrote it several times and I more or less have it where I want. Thank you all for returning. Thank you for the reviews (looking at you, Birds Love Words). Lots of love, K.M.

Chapter 17

Rolling hills gave way to a dense forest and a road leading into it. Leafless tree branches reached out to each other from across the street, tangling themselves together. The light of the day was grey and cool, and far too ominous to his liking. The wind whipped at Rossignol and brought with it the subtle sounds of small animals scavenging for the last of their winter store.

As he traveled the road towards Lake Geneva Rossignol could not suppress the choking thickness he felt in the air. Excitement, not anxiety, was what he should have felt. The rhythmic beating of his heart was slow and poignant, like a warning. Dread came over him the further he went and the closer he came to Georgia's home.

Sir John's estate was a mile ahead. Rossignol was exhausted and his horse was near dead from exertion, but he pressed on. When, as last, he was only a few yards from the estate a servant came out to greet him.

"Monsieur Rossignol! Come rest. Miss Georgia told us you were coming. There is food for you and your room is made up." The servant moved to take Rossignol's cloak, but the creature back away from him.

"Where is Georgia? Why is she not here to greet me?" Panic welled up in him. Georgia wasn't pressed to any of the windows that faced him nor was she in the foyer beyond the open doorway of Sir John's estate.

The servant looked to Rossignol in confusion. "Miss Georgia was called back to England. Her case was settled. They won't be back 'til after winter, I'm afraid. But worry not, Sir, you are welcome to remain here for the season. Sir John was quite adamant that we look after you." Once again, the servant moved to take Rossignol's cloak.

Georgia wasn't here. Now he understood his feelings. Fate was twisted and cruel. The mask he wore hid the rage on his face. It would not do to frighten the servants when he still had so much to do to be with Georgia. Once he got her back, he was never letting her go again, lest she be lost to him forever. "When did they depart?"

He sounded pitiful. No, there was no use in hiding his heartbreak and utter disappointment. Rossignol wanted to be with Georgia. He wanted to cry and scream. Against his will, his body trembled.

"A week to the day, Sir. Come inside, Sir, it is chilly and you've had a difficult journey."

Rossignol nodded and handed the reigns of his horse to the servant who looked dumbly at the horse. The creature took his bags and passed the threshold of the house. Everything seemed so familiar and yet so foreign. Many a night he had spent stalking the building, finding paths to get close to Georgia or to escape her. It seemed different in the grey light of day. A fire roared near the entrance of the parlor where a piano stared longingly at him. His heart heaved as he imagined her fingers gliding over the keys. He missed her music. He missed her.

Rossignol stopped his ambulations near the door when he realized he had tracked in a good deal of mud. He was filthy and tired. "I will rest the night. Can you have my clothes washed?" He asked the servant who abandoned the horse to someone else.

"Where are you going, Sir?" This was unexpected. Sir John told the servants to house Rossignol, that he was to be married to Miss Georgia and that he was a gentleman. Gentlemen don't rush off when winter is coming. They wait and are waited upon unless hunting for sport. Rossignol was wild.

"To England. To Georgia. I need rest and food," he declared before traveling up the stairs to the washroom. The servants balked at such behavior, how did he know where he was going? Several of the servants followed behind, not saying a word, but watching dumbly. "Will you prepare a hot bath for me?" He asked the first girl. She flushed, nodded and disappeared to prepare the water.

This was new and thrilling. His actions were unconventional and it made the servants almost giddy to see to their chores and gossip. Rossignol stopped once again and turned to the servants trailing behind them and asked for his clothing to be delivered to Georgia's room where he would be waiting. No one questioned how he knew where her room was. This man had been in the house before. He must have been the one Georgia was sneaking food too. A scandalous tale indeed!

Rossignol reached Georgia's room and turned the small, round knob before pressing the door open. It was just as he remembered it. A subtle canopy was draped over her floral printed bed sheets. Next to her bed was a small, square nightstand and sitting atop it was a well-read copy of Sense and Sensibility. Did she read anything else? He mused. His fingers gently caressed the book before he opened the cover. Between the hardcover and the first page of the book was a pressed snowdrop, wilted and slightly discolored, but gently sheathed a wax paper. His gift to her.

He brought the withered blossom to his face and kissed it. "I will not dally too long, my love. We'll be together again, I promise."

A knock sounded at the door, prompting Rossignol to return the flower to its home. He was delicate with the door handle, he was in a sacred space, touching what he knew Georgia had touched. An older man stood at the door with two of Rossignol's bags and behind the man stood a woman with his final bag. Rossignol opened the door wider and let them in.

"Claudia is still working on your bath, Sir. Gustav and Ana are fixing you something to eat. Can we get you anything else while you wait? Your mask is a bit dirty, Sir. May I clean it for you?"

Georgia accepted his appearance, and Nettie had grown to live with it, but Sir John's initial reaction was enough for him to know it would be a long time before strangers would be able to look upon him without fear and disgust. But the mask didn't just hide his features from Georgia's caretakers, it kept a certain mystery around him at all times, like a mantle, a shield. It was vital since his mission to obtain a communion with humanity was far from over. "I thank you, kind sir, but my masks are treasured possessions and I see to them myself. Your aid is invaluable. If you've nothing to see too, I would like to learn about the staff."

Rossignol listened to every word the older servant said. Most of the servants had come from England with Georgia but many contemplated returning when they heard she was to be married. All seemed to love Georgia, and especially delighted in her music. Most of the servants from England had been with either Georgia or Sir John for many years, with the exception of Delia, who joined the staff shortly before Georgia's father became ill and passed away.

"She never mentioned much about her father," Rossignol stated sadly at the conclusion of the servant's narrative. But then again, he thought, he had yet to tell her about his father.

The servant stood when Ana brought Rossignol his food and set it on the small table he had used during his nightly rendezvous with Georgia. "Well, there was the scandal, of course. Miss Georgia lost a good deal of friends and lo! One would have thought she was a servant or a vagabond the way people looked at her! Her damnable aunt made sure she was turned away and those who didn't turn her away were then themselves turned away. Sir John spared her by removing her. He felt he owed it to her, given that he is the reason her life was ruined."

This confused Rossignol more. He had but an inkling of what the issue was, but was too ignorant in the ways of man to feel confident enough to ask. Instead, he nibbled on the cold roast and delighted in the tea. He held no aptitude for French wine, but English tea was made for him.

"Lord Benedict Daniels was a great man. No one even knew. . . . Not sure when he did. Not many people liked it, not that it was their business. He was a free man when it started. And Sir John loved Miss Georgia as if she were his own. Promised her father he'd look after her. But still, their indiscretion nearly ruined that girl. But my, I prattling on with a gentleman! Claudia will be in presently. Thank you, Sir. If I may, congratulations on your engagement, Miss Daniels is a fine woman!" He stood, visibly worn by having spoken so much. He left Rossignol to finish his meal and returned only to help Claudia bring the water for a bath.

Rossignol remained in the bathroom for a long while, mulling over every bit of information he recently learned. His brain. however, would not work properly, he was far too tired. When he was clean he returned to Georgia's room and threw himself onto her bed. Her scent still lingered in the sheets and he wrapped himself in it. It was as if she were with him, protecting him with her loving embrace. He managed to fall asleep in the late afternoon, waking when his laundered clothes were brought back to him. It wasn't until the early morning that he realized what his brain had kept secret from him during his bath. The realization made sense— perfect, horrifying sense. Within an hour of waking in a state of panic, he was on a horse fleeing wildly across Europe to the English channel against the advice of Sir John's staff. Rossignol wasn't risking his life, he was saving Georgia's.