I will try not to confuse anyone this time. :) There is ONE more chapter and an epilogue. They will be posted at the same time because chapter 24 does have a much more adult theme and scene. Half of it is fine, and anyone can read it, but the second half of chapter 24 is for mature audiences. If that is not something to want, you may proceed to the epilogue. I will try and get those posted within the next week. At the end of the epilogue I will give you an idea of what to expect in the next story, but not too much ;)
A month had passed since they began their stay at the Dunhams' estate where Georgia was received like a long-lost daughter and Rossignol's new family found comfort. Her recovery was steady, hindered briefly by fits of melancholy depression. Every effort was made to restore her to her natural self. At length, she grew lively and jovial as she was finally able to be open about her relationship with Rossignol. With the aid of his friends, the remaining De Lacey clan, and Georgia's benefactors, Rossignol became more at ease with the great home of Lord Dunham. He took great liberty to learn what he could of England and what he could do to improve Georgia's life and bring her to the home he had waiting for her in France.
During his time in Rathstone Hall, the home of Lord Dunham, Rossignol received several replies concerning his business— there was still much he had not told Georgia. He was never idle. Salvaging proved to be a success for him, so well, in fact, he had actually obtained a partner and a business. The company was small and independent, as least from him. He grossed an honest sum in profits for both his name and the promise of meeting his business partner twice a year. It was an ideal plan for him: his time could thus be spent with his wife and they would be content in their life.
After sending a reply to one of his letters, Rossignol came upon Georgia in the library. She sat with Eva pouring over English and French books. They were translations, well, one was, and Rossignol could not be certain which. The pair giggled over their errors; Georgia was fluent in French but still had difficulty reading it. The sight warmed Rossignol's heart and he stood watching them for a long while.
"Are you not going to sit with us, Monsieur Rossignol?" Georgia teased. She and Eva shut their books and began reshelving them. "If you are not too overwhelmed from your many meetings, my love, Mrs. Davenport is coming with her husband. I believe the Archduke of Canterbury has given us consent to marry here."
This was splendid news indeed! Feelings of tranquility began to descend upon him and he rushed to Georgia, taking a book from her hand and handing her his letters. "No matter the outcome of the court's decision about your wealth, you will want for nothing, Georgia."
Her countenance grew bright as she read through the letters concerning his labors. She was proud that he had not succumbed to hopelessness. Instead, he made them a life out of nothing, just as his life was made and granted from nothing. "I would live in a cottage that housed our family and overlooked a garden. I would work the land and wear a woolen dress of plain color if it meant I could be with you. I would live in a hut with you, just as long as you were always there." Tears quietly rolled down her cheeks. "I am so proud of you."
Not caring that Eva remained with them, Rossignol grabbed Georgia by her face and kissed her. Unaware and unphased by his strength, he pushed Georgia against a bookcase. Instead of whimpering out in pain, Georgia only became more engrossed in their exchange. "People," she stated breathlessly between the kisses, "spend all of their energy taking and taking, but you give and give without demanding favors. You expect nothing. How can you be so good and so perfect?"
He ended their kiss but kept his lips close to hers, his warm breath sent shivers down her aching body, she wanted more from him. "I have done terrible things, my darling. I am neither good nor perfect, but you have made me benevolent and tender. I would be neither of those things if you had not shown me the love I have often been denied."
Behind them, Eva coughed. Blushing, Georgia backed away from Rossignol just enough to turn and face the girl. "I'm sorry, dear sister," she laughed. " Shall we go for a walk?"
"Will the two of you continue kissing?"
They both burst out laughing. Georgia rushed towards the girl, and taking her hand, they raced from the room shouting for Rossignol to follow. He gave them a moment's head start before pursuing them. Georgia's light yellow frock snapped in the air as she clung to a giggling Eva. "Quick! Down the stairs! Outside, sister!"
They raced down the stairs with Rossignol hot on their trail. As a mercy, he allowed them to maintain their advance, he had superior speed and stamina and could easily overtake them, but then their fun would be at an end. They went down the stairs carefully, but quickly and when they reached the base, Eva and Georgia rounded the banister and raced into the parlor. Rossignol hit the ground floor and within an instant, a woman screamed. He shrank, and like a cornered animal, he wilted and looked around with wide eyes to find the sources of the shrieking. There was no one that he saw. He rounded the barrister and landed just behind Georgia and Eva.
"Miss Daniels! That scar is horrid! Make use of those illustrious locks of hair and cover that up!" A young woman stood at the entrance of the parlor. She had not been announced, only just arriving as Eva and Georgia were running around. Her sneer was wound tight like the string of a piano ready to snap.
Georgia brought Eva close to her and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulder. "Lynette!"
Lynette sighed and rolled her eyes. "Miss Worthington, Miss Daniels. I had no idea of you being here. How— oh, good God, what is that!"
Lynette's eyes went wide as she backed away. Georgia turned to see Rossignol standing, he wore no mask and his features were completely visible to someone he had never met before. The familiar feeling of old beating resurfaced as did the cruelty of every person he met before his Georgia. As Lynette began shrieking the Rossignol was a monster, Georgia threw her hands up to shield his face.
"You've no right, Miss Worthington, no right at all," cried Georgia. She looked to Rossignol and saw the pain in his eyes. "Do not be afraid of her, my love. She has no power here, nor is she welcomed," whispered Georgia.
"W-what did you say her name was?" he asked. A nauseated feeling of dread washed over him.
"Worthington," answered Georgia.
Lynette's lips quivered, half in fear, half in detestation. Lady Adler mentioned Georgia's beau but she never could capture his exact image. He was grotesque, to say the least,and Lynette found herself itching to return to town and let the whole city learn of the monster that was to wed Miss Daniels.
"You are not welcomed here. Begone," Rossignol said suddenly. He stood tall and proud, like a lord ready to deliver and impassioned speech to his subjects. He gently pulled Georgia's hands from his face and stepped before her. Eva was quickly moved out of the way and both stood in the protection of Rossignol. "Return to your father and tell him that he is not to come to this house or disturb any of my friends. And, Madam, you are not to approach Miss Georgia Daniels, even when she becomes Madame Georgia Rossignol."
Lynette's face went scarlet. "How dare you! You will not speak to me thus and you, Miss Daniels, should teach your fiance his place in society. It is in the gutter with you!"
"Miss Worthington, you'll do well to cease with your shrieking and remove yourself from this house presently." Sir John stood, as proud as any man of his esteem would, at the entrance of an adjacent hall. His face was neutral, but firm. "Return to your carriage and return to town."
She could say nothing to him, even when affronted. Her thin lips clamped shut as her eyes fell upon Georgia and Rossignol one last time before she stormed away. Her feet carried her quickly, her gait was oppressive was short and quick. Once she was gone Sir John approached the startled trio.
"Monsieur Rossignol," he started, his face furrowed, his countenance became apologetic. "While on the ground floor, I must ask that you keep your mask on. This household respects and admires you, but our guests are not always so kind. Georgia is sure to remember their cruelty and my family has been picked apart enough as it is."
Georgia became indignant, her breath quickened and a fury began to consume her. She stepped forward, quickly assaulting Sir John with a barrage of questions. "Sir John, must you speak thus? Are we not friends? Is this the manner in which we treat our friends?"
A hand reached out and gently pulled Georgia back. Rossignol bent down so that his forehead touched hers. She winced at the contact against her healing wound. His watery eyes froze her in place and she felt an overwhelming longing to kiss undefined lips. "He is right, my love. Take Eva upstairs and fetch my mask, please?" She was reluctant to leave. "This request is not out of cruelty to me, he lords no ill will over us, this is out of love. I am in awe of the love people have for you. I am not jealous, I want to add to it. Do you understand what you have inspired in me?"
Agitation and a conflicting desire to understand swept over her features. "You deserve better. A life where people do not fear or scorn you. A life where they see what I see."
Her passion touched him, he felt his soul reaching out to hers. "They shall, someday." Rossignol kissed her forehead and then urged Georgia and Eva upstairs to complete the task he had given to them. When he turned he found Sir John attempting to mask his emotions. He felt more than he let on, but he had dedicated his life to keeping his own sacred secret, and expression became harder for him to master.
"Mr. and Mrs. Davenport will be here within a few hours to meet you." Sir John paced the small space the length of the foyer. "The wedding will be held here for your comfort and privacy, this is no small feet. News of your rescuing Georgia, the Frankensteins, and the De Laceys has made its way around the most important figures of our society." He ceased his pacing and came up to Rossignol. Sir John adjusted Rossignol's jacket to fit him better. In no time at all Gabriel's new friends acquired stately looking English clothes to align with that of his benefactors. When the Davenports arrived he would present himself in the cloak Signora Pausini made for him as it was the finest of all that he owned and carried too many memories to be cast off for aesthetics.
"Lord Adler," continued Sir John, "sent a letter to the Archduke of Canterbury after the death of his wife explaining what she did. He submitted the request that you be permitted to avoid a church wedding in favor of a private wedding. He has also sent Georgia a considerable sum of money."
"He means to buy her forgiveness?" Throughout his time in Venice, Rossignol had discovered that enough money could buy a person anything they so desired. He shunned the company of those who lived their lives around such promises. For Georgia, he would be pure. But then was he? He used money to make people see past his appearance, and it worked.
Sir John's face went stoic. "Of course, he does. But I have already taken the claim and put it to her name. Lord Adler is done with this family forever. It's not ideal, but the both of you are free to start your lives together."
Man truly did harbor such odd ideas of society and morality. Were it not for the goodliness of the De Laceys Rossignol wondered if he might have succumbed to the maligned view of the virtue of man. Although many felt the ends justified the means, there were those who strive every day to find better ways to treat each other. "What of Georgia's estate? Is it still contested?"
"Please, Sir John," came Georgia's voice as she rounded the wall at the foot of the stairs. "Is there news? Am I finished with the waiting?" Eva was no longer with her, but on the second level with her grandfather. Georgia handed Rossignol his mask and helped him secure it around his face. Sorrow crossed her beautiful face as she watched his face disappear beneath the pale gold mask.
"Lord Dunham will return with the Davenports with news. This is the best I can offer. Lord Adler withdrew his wife's request for a share, but you have several relatives still vying for the property. I am sure Lord William Daniels will inherit the house, I am sorry, Georgia."
Rossignol smiled beneath the mask. "I have a house for her. In the south of France. I. . . bought it for her. It is not so stately as this, but it is a fine home." His eyes fell on her once more as she drifted over to him. "We are eager only to be married and to leave these dreadful months behind us."
"Lord Worthington was arrested!" Declared Mrs. Davenport in the parlor. Her audience sat gathered around her with rapt attention. Georgia sat to one side of her while Lady Dunham sat on the other. Rossignol sat erect in a recliner a few feet from Georgia. "The town is in an uproar over it. Dear me, they found a body wrapped in a rug that he purchased. With his connection to the late Lady Adler, it has been determined that they were responsible for several murders."
Her face was flushed, and the hair that long ago shone golden blond was now a pinned up mass of disheveled grey. Mr. Davenport was a local vicar whose house resided on the property of Daniels' vacant estate. He, like many of the local clergymen, was being summoned into the city due to the recent increase of deaths. It was he who presided over the burial of Agatha who was buried in Georgia's family cemetery.
Grave was his countenance as he absently stroked his large eyebrows. For twelve years he devoted himself to the rectory and to his parishioners, and during his time as a vicar, he had never faced such death and cruelty. Like his wife, he felt great affinity and empathy for Georgia, and his one consolation to her would be to grant her a wedding deserving of such amiability.
"Miss Lynette Worthington," continued Mrs. Davenport, "has fled the city with some of her father's friends. I never realized that such distasteful people dwelt here. London, surely, but Southampton? Unheard of!" She looked to her husband for support, she was beyond her depth among such company.
"This city," he added, with a long draw in his voice, "has turned over, but in your aid, Miss Daniels. Your position in society has been restored from what we have been able to discern on your behalf. Your peers are quite respectful of your private wedding. You and Monsieur Rossignol are the heroes of this dreadful tale. Our Creator shines his blessing on you both."
At this Rossignol froze and felt his heart thunder. Had he finally achieved what he for so long desired? Was he accepted by man? By God? Had he done the impossible and accepted himself? He was gifted at birth— though unconventional, it was a birth— with a soul. His should was benevolent and loved, but he was full of repentance for his deeds, and a burning desire to atone for them. Upon hearing that he was counted among God's creations, though stitched together by the hands of man, lit the flames of hope that could now never be smothered. Where not all men created by men in the wombs of their equals? Wasn't the very miracle of a painful birth and the life brought forth a mercy granted by God?
"Monsieur Rossignol, have I said something wrong?" Asked Mr. Davenport with a look of horror. His snow white head whipped around to Georgia. "Have I said something wrong?"
Rossignol had gone rigid in his contemplations. Georgia observed him a moment before answering on his behalf. "Just the opposite, Mr. Davenport. Monsieur Rossignol has been through many trials during his life. Your words have touched him; he has, regrettably, not known such acceptance and love until now."
She knew his full, terrible story. Every detestable action that brought him to life was locked safely in her mind. With Rossignol only a few feet from her it would not have been too difficult to simply reach out to him, a physical declaration of support for what she already knew. Peace would between Rossignol and Frankenstein. There would be no revenge, no more pain, no anger. Their future was all that was left for them.
"Please, Mr. Davenport, forgive me." Georgia could hear his voice tremble. His masked gaze fell upon her, his eyes were watery from the tears threatening to spill out. "Truly, I am blessed. What more could a man hope for in this life? Miss Daniels has been my greatest blessing, if not an angel sent to make me a better man."
"I am honored, then, to be marrying the two of you. There is one other matter, Miss Daniels," stated Mr. Davenport. He then brought out a series of papers from a satchel sitting next to Sir John.
A cool breeze gently brushed them the collective anxiety of everyone in the parlor waiting to know what the papers held. Sir John, having looked through them when Mr. Davenport arrived, was more eager to know how Georgia would react.
"My estate has officially been settled then?" She asked. The fresh scent of soft pink roses brought in by the breeze did not ease her dread.
Mr. Davenport nodded but handed the papers to Rossignol. "English law dictates that your property passes to your husband."
Rossignol urged her to him and together they looked through the forms. Her wealth was a marvel, Rossignol had no idea just how much she had. Even with Adler's former claim, Georgia would have inherited a considerable amount of wealth. But as he read through the forms he realized she was wealthy to him but poor to her class. She would have been doomed to marry below her rank, and ironically, she was. His mysteriousness was what saved her in the eyes of her peers.
Her long fingers stroked the flesh of his hands as they worked to examine each document. Georgia would receive a substantial amount of furniture directly bequeathed to her from her father and relinquished by the cousin who inherited her former home. The furniture often stayed with the estates, but she was being gifted with all of her mother's belonging as well as the items she had used growing up. A writing desk belonging to her father now belonged to her. Two pianos were now in her possession along with several books about the history of England, including one detailing the rise of the Daniels family in the region and how their title was obtained. Despite her joy as seeing too many of her childhood belongings being restored to her— she had long ago given up hope of retaining the house— she felt sorrow at the money being left to her. For the remainder of her life, the money that was left to her would total fifteen hundred pounds a year. While her father lived they enjoyed an income of seven thousand pounds a year. Georgia fought hard to contain her bitterness.
"Georgia," interjected Sir John, "it isn't what you are accustomed to, but I believe Monsieur Rossignol has the means to provide you with a comfortable living."
Tears threatened to pour from her eyes, but she had an audience. On the other side of Mrs. Davenport, Georgia noticed Lady Dunham smiling. "Lady Catherine?"
"I know you are disappointed by what you are reading, but I cannot hold onto our secret any longer. Mrs. Davenport, you've lasted longer than I did, I suppose I will have to make up the loss in a game of cards with you and Nettie. Georgia, your dress has arrived."
She stood and took hold of Georgia's hands, they were soft and smooth, perfect for the silk dress Lady Catherine currently wore. "Come," she said, pulling Georgia along. Mrs. Davenport followed suit. "Monsieur Rossignol," Lady Catherine called, turning to the men briefly, "your wedding attire is here as well. Let me know what you think of the mask!" Three of them quickly disappeared into the house, leaving the men to mull over their mischief.