30
Katrina divided her days between Stephan and Sophie.
Her early mornings were spent romping in the gardens, chasing birds, and generally being a child outdoors in spring. Young Lefevre looked after her, and was sure to check that no knives found their way into her pockets when running.
They would breakfast, and then read something aloud together before he had to go work. He had found employ in a counting house, and was liking it better than he had expected to. These lessons were a great deal less formal and quite pleasant to Katrina, particularly since they were often interspersed with tales from the old red book.
Katrina had the house to herself then, for Monsieur Agard liked to read the papers outside until about eleven thirty. Madame Lefevre often had letters to write or answer, or some aspect of the house to see to.
Katrina often went to the music room then, a secret enjoyment, for she had the pick of any instrument and music within her reach. The cello was a delight of many hours, for though it was rather too large, she found that it could be managed by her standing up and not being particular as to how her left hand looked when pressing down the strings. She discovered some music for it, and began to puzzle out what went where, and what note meant what place. A laborious proceeding, but she had a special end in mind for it.
She liked to find the baskets and boxes of old music long forgotten and rediscover their enchantments. It was work, but work she loved so well, that no play could compare to it.
Some of the pieces were handwritten, difficult to decipher, but all the more intriguing because of it.
In the afternoons, Sophie would allow her to tag along on whatever errands or chores she had to do. Katrina had helped Erik and later Helen with the housekeeping on the lake, but found that running an estate home involved planning on paper. It wasn't the simple matter of cooking, cleaning, and picking up, and polishing furniture that the small house below the opera needed. This place was a massive machine, with a few servants that had to be given directions. It was not uncommon for Katrina to vanish and be found working alongside a servant who was polishing floors or silver. Perhaps cooking in the kitchen or digging up carrots or such with the gardener.
The evenings were hit and miss as to whom did what. Katrina was never quite sure what to make of Agard, nor he of her. Often Katrina would go to the library with Stephan, and read on the rug while he completed any work left over by his father.
One night, all four of them happened to be in the library together. Agard glanced at the head of her page which read, 'the human bones are categorized as follows…' He sat up and checked to be sure of what he was seeing and cleared his throat.
"Wherever did you find that, child?"
"On that shelf," she pointed to a space on the shelf just below the top, where a black slot showed evidence of a tome missing.
"Why would you read such a thing?"
She looked up in puzzlement. "Should I not have touched it?"
"What has she got?" Sophie asked.
"Your husband's medical reference." Agard said, feeling rather awkward about it, though there was no reason to be.
Sophie smiled at her. "It's perfectly alright for you to read that. Dear heavens, if that's the worst you pick I shan't stop you."
Agard snorted. "It will make no sense."
Katrina frowned and went over to him, setting the book in his lap. "Well, can you explain to me what I don't comprehend?" Stephan set down his pen, suddenly interested. Katrina went on, "It's not exciting reading, but I think it's really remarkable how a foot it built, don't you? See, it allows weight to go three places, the heel, the big toe, and the little toe joint. Just like three pillars holding up a roof. My uncle told me that, he used to be an architect."
She looked up to see discomfiture instead of the intense yellow eyes or the laughing green ones she was used to. Deciding that it was not of interest to him, she slipped back to her rug to enjoy a poor diagram of muscle placement.
The next morning, Agard was late to breakfast, and found Sophie demurely buttering a scone while Stephan was looking over the morning paper. Katrina had scooted her chair close to his and was draped over his shoulder to read along herself, dribbling crumbs on her friend's lap from her own scone.
"Silk's getting higher." He observed aloud. "You bought your new dresses at the right time, Mama."
Katrina pointed to a little article in the corner. "What's that word mean?"
"Asphyxia is the same as strangling or choking, Katrina. The body they found drowned, or asphyxiated, on water."
"Oh." She read a little farther. "Who is that?"
"An ambassador; he's going to be in Paris this month."
"Ah, I see." She said knowingly, earning a smile from Sophie.
Agard wondered if the child would leave anything with a printed word alone. The paper was hardly intriguing enough for him. Her finger darted out. "Look, that's the soprano who is taking over for Marie. I met her, and I think Jacques picked the right one."
Stephan glanced at her. "I thought she was older than he wanted."
"Yes, but she's experienced, still in good voice, and willing to let other artists fill for her sometimes. She was kind to the dancers, and even that sour old tenor smiled at her."
At a puzzled look from his old teacher, Stephan explained, "Katrina's Aunt Marie used to be the famed soprano D'Arcy, before she married Jacques, the manager of the Paris Opera. Marie's sister Helen married Katrina's uncle and they live quite happily absorbed by music and art."
"I beg your pardon?" the old tutor said, thinking it sounded more like a riddle than an explanation.
Sophie set her utensils aside. "Katrina's uncle married into the opera house. At least, as far as I can understand."
The butler appeared, and announced "A guest for Monsieur Stephan."
Looking puzzled, the young man handed his paper over to Katrina, and stood. "Show him in."
A great thudding followed the motion of the servant's finger, and a strange figure filled the doorway. A mountain of a man.
He was dressed in the clothes of a worker, holding a poor brown hat in his fingers. He made every adult in the room dwindle to the size of a child. There was something in his stance that spoke of discomfiture, the fear of not being wanted around such fine things. The hair was dark brown curls, the skin dusky from time in the sun, and scarred from living life. He had huge plain face with lips that looked swollen and eyes that looked sad, but the smile offered was sly, almost boyish. "A good morning, Stephan. If I am disturbing you, I can return later." The voice rumbled and slurred, making Monsieur Agard pale a little in fear. The fellow was sight.
"Andre! Oh, Andre, I am glad to see you!" The young man ran and embraced the stranger happily, and received a hug in return. "Mama, this is the young man who saved my life on that dreadful adventure on the sea. He was but a boy then, and carried himself like thirty men. Andre Moreau, my mother Sophie Lefevre, and former tutor Monsieur Agard."
The great fingers closed around the pudgy ones of Agard, and the delicate ones of Sophie as the servants set another place. "He says thirty men, but I ask, with my size, what else can I carry myself as?" growled the good natured voice.
Stephan slapped his old friend's back, and started to drag him to a chair. That was when he saw Katrina's eyes peeping over the back of her seat. "Ah, how could I have forgotten? Katrina, come here and meet Andre!"
She eagerly hopped down, no longer held in place by politeness. She beamed up through the height between them, and dropped her customary curtsy. "Bonjour Monsieur Moreau, how do you do?"
He face softened, and he knelt in an attempt to appear less intimidating. "I do well, thank you, Katrina." He looked over his round shoulder at Stephan curiously. "I was not aware you had a child, friend."
"If only she were mine," he smiled, "that honor belongs to others. She is but a guest in our home."
She studied him at close range, realizing first that he was younger than he appeared, and second that she had seen him before. "I remember you. You threw that awful man in the lake for bullying the children."
He seemed surprised, but reevaluated the large brown eyes looking evenly into his. A glimmer of remembrance flickered in his features. "Yes, that happened in a village several years ago. He was drunk." He said that as if to make amends for picking on a smaller being. "I remember a child much like you, barely walking. It is remarkable that you recall it."
He stood and sat down with the others. After he had eaten, Stephan leaned forward. "What is it you came for? I am glad to see you, but I'm surprised to be truthful."
Andre set the silverware gently on his plate and sighed. "I'm afraid it is a matter of money. I need work, and hoped you might know of where to find some. You may recall, not many wish to hire me."
Stephan nodded, a bitter frown appearing. "There are a few places, not easy work, but honest. Come with me tomorrow and I'll see what they say. Until work is yours, I would be glad of your company in our house."
The giant seemed troubled for a moment, but at the frank look in Lefere's eyes, he relaxed. "Very well. But If I can be of help here, you must tell me."
They left not long after, cutting a strange picture together. Sophie sighed. "It is good to see he made one decent friend on those rambles of his."
Agard looked skeptical, but held his tongue. Katrina had no opinion to voice, and so slipped upstairs to see if the banister were good for sliding down, being sure no one was in sight when she tried it. Much like Erik, she preferred to ask forgiveness after the deed.