Thanks for all the reviews! Also, thanks to alexiz for pointing out my typos. I'm hoping to go back and correct those items when I finish this.

45

The evening winds had fallen to a hushed mutter, and the water gave an occasional growl below it.

Katrina moved the lamp closer to the pages absentmindedly, starting when Christine spoke to her.

"Not work, I trust? Oh, did I frighten you?"

Shaking her head, Katrina folded the packet up and retied the ribbon. "No, no, it's alright. Just some light reading."

Christine sat in a chair and studied the darkening sky over the ocean. "If that is the look you use for light reading, then I used to do some light singing. What captured you so?"

Realizing that Christine knew her secrets too well to be fooled, Katrina smiled thoughtfully and looked ahead also.

"The way he writes echoes something in Uncle Erik's music. That yearning to see or find something that no one else can. Not many even know there is more to find, or care. In itself, the tale is not so strange. But consider that music without a driving persona in creation or performance is nothing either. This particular writing would survive by the force of its maker, and that alone is rather terrible."

"You face this fact calmly, too calmly. I never could." Madame Gerard bit her lip. She was still lovely, but lacked something of Helen's zest for life's small joys. Katrina could not help but silently compare them. The former Prima Dona went on. "I am glad that we have buried our past, and that your family holds nothing against mine. But in honesty I must admit that I would not like to see Erik again. Perhaps that will change one day, but I cannot go back to the trapdoors. Not now and maybe never."

"I think that Erik would encourage the same. It may not be as difficult for him as for you and Monsieur, but I agree. The past is the past."

"How did you do it, Katrina? You were just a child then, so vulnerable after the loss of your parents. What made it possible?"

The young woman smiled, and watched the shadow of a ship hovering in the water until it was time to come in with the tides. "I had no choice, but that never occurred to me. I only knew he was my mother's brother and I would be safe with him. I wanted very much to be loved by him, and couldn't help loving him back. I do remember my father saying once how I loved too freely, if at all."

Christine considered this for a moment. "I have never had that in my nature. I gave blind trust, not love. I suppose they could go hand in hand, but not in my case."

"We each have our flaws." Katrina stood on impulse. "I'm going swimming."

"Whatever for? It is pitch black!"

"To say I've done it."

Without waiting, Katrina tore down the sand and plunged into the water. A second later there was shuddering cry beside her, and Christine floundered to find her footing. "This is foolish, I shall become ill."

Katrina only laughed, and threw handful of droplets into the air, watching as a few caught the moon and stars for an instant.

Andre arrived to help Raoul for a short time the next morning. The man's health was improving, but it was doubtful that he would ever walk again.

Philippe waited until breakfast had been served before asking, "Is it true, Andre, that the people you and Katrina help are English?"

Andre seemed thoughtful for a moment. "I believe that they are, though I think Mademoiselle Minerva was schooled here in France. I have never met her brother. Ah, that reminds me, Katrina. The master himself will return today or tomorrow with the girl. I just got the letter from him yesterday by late post."

Young Gerard was not to be detoured by talk of schedules. "Are they very different from us?"

"You talk as if we were a special breed," Raoul said good-naturedly. "People are people, whatever their customs might be."

The boy turned to Katrina, knowing that she would not avoid the question by evasive reasoning. "Are they different?"

"Not really. Less expressive about life perhaps, but not very different. Their French is impeccable, and that helps a great deal. As Andre said, we have not met the gentleman himself, so he may be different than Henry or Minerva."

After the meal, Katrina and Andre walked to the other home, and found it in an uproar. Minerva was rushing from room to room, still stiff in her bearing, but frantic in manner. The maid was dashing along in a random way, and Henry alternated between practicing his new piece and opening doors for people. Katrina flattened herself to get out of the way, and Andre coolly avoided the house altogether and went to help the gardener that had somehow appeared.

Minerva stopped to catch her breath, and explained that Fergus and Lucy would arrive the next day. "We've been frantic, the letter was delayed and we only got it last night. Oh, heavens, I don't even know what we are to do."

Katrina wondered a little at the sudden need to make the house presentable. Not a speck of dust had been permitted, and other than airing and brightening the rooms, she saw no need for alarm and said as much. "The gardener's got to cut back the shrubs and flowers as it is, bring the rubbish in and use that."

"You think my brother cares? I assure you, he does not. Men are not artists, they are tunnel minded, my dear. I have yet to meet one who cares."

Katrina thought over the men of her acquaintance. Even Andre appreciated some aspect of the arts, and her grandfather and Stephan certainly held opinions about them. Erik was another subject altogether. She only watched expressively as the poor maid scurried down with furniture covers. Minerva caught the glance and frowned.

"It's for Lucy's sake. The child may be as much a terror as her brother, but I think that after traveling with my own brother a little beauty will help ease the entrance into this house. Oh, have you finished it?"

Katrina had handed her the book, and she smiled at the question. "I did. It was, in my opinion, a great work. Encourage him to have it published."

With that she went out to the garden to fetch the greenery and flowers that would have otherwise been wasted.

Between the gardener, Andre, Minerva, the maid, Henry, and Katrina the inside and outside were made overtly neat and a sweet room had been arranged for Lucy. After the hubbub died, Katrina helped Henry change his own quarters about. He had found some maps of no value and asked to pin them to one wall. "It'll look more like a ship's cabin that way." He said eagerly.

Katrina laughed and helped him put them where he wished.

Before she left that night, Minerva stopped Katrina and asked nervously; "I've run our maid ragged and given her tomorrow off. I am sorry to ask this, but have you had any experience as a maid?"

Katrina saw the direction of the words and patted the woman's arm. "I was a maid as a child. I'll be here tomorrow and do whatever you need me to. Mainly the meals I suppose?"

"Yes, oh, thank you. That is a load off of my mind. I will see you in the morning, then."