The Viscount of La Soutain (18)

 18

Samh 9.29.1342 8:00 

As soon as Geodor left Jeanilotta, he sent a note to Theodomani requesting him to visit the following morning. Theodomani did not disappoint and by 8:00 the next morning was waiting in his library. He decided to present himself in the most unthreatening way possible and arrived in a silk dressing gown with a novel and coffee. Theodomani, who initially was ready to challenge him, was thrown entirely off guard. 

“It was hardly worth the while that I should become your savior from that cold and vast expanse to rob you afterwards of the affections of your lady-love. I confess I did not anticipate so great an honor,” Geodor said, extending his hand with a smile.

"At least, my lord,” he replied, his whole face flushed with anger, “I might have been spared your mirthfulness upon a subject which has destroyed any happiness that might have been mine. Prior to this event, I regarded you as the embodiment of nobleness; you were my standard for all that is great and good in the world. Now, I have been undeceived—” he said dramatically. “I will no longer have confidence in anyone. Nothing but the gratitude I owe you as the preserver of my life prevents me from challenging you."

“Ah, indeed!" replied Geodor, with mock gravity. “However, you forget my rank—it would be impossible for me to accept."

Theodomani was too angry to speak. He walked to the window and began to pull the leaves from a beautiful exotic flower which was in full bloom. Geodor watched him for a moment. Suddenly, he realized what Theodomani was doing. Springing up, he caught the hands of the young man, saying, “Come, exhaust your anger upon me, not upon Lira's poor rose. She will never forgive you, and I shall.” 

“We have been engaged for three years. In their very sitting room, we declared our affection and pledged our mutual faith in each other. To the best of my knowledge, she was previously always true to me, and my heart's wildest dreams were more than realized in her unchanging, devoted love. I would have sacrificed all that makes life dear if she had but demanded it—all, except her love. I came last night to ask her to appoint the date of our marriage, and she received me with coldness.” Theodomani’s eyes welled with tears, and Geodor quickly offered him a handkerchief.

After a few moments, he continued, “I will not conceal from you that at times I have been a little jealous of you, but I kept trying to convince myself I was wrong. Last night, she confessed to me that her heart had not been as true as mine. She accused me of taking advantage of her youth to secure our pledge! When I questioned her, and asked if the attention you recently have paid her was the reason for her change of feelings, she stated that whether you were the cause or not was none of my business! She said she was giving me back my pledge and told me to make whatever inferences about it that I chose. At the last, she refused to even take my hand in parting.” Here, his voice broke, and he again began to cry. 

“Lord Elwynalam,” Theodomani said, making a powerful effort to regain his self-control after a couple of minutes of silent weeping, “will you do me the honor to tell me the business upon which you desired my presence this morning?”

“Ah, true, I had something to say," Geodor said, instantly changing to one of heart-felt kindness and sympathy, "As I am not accustomed to make mysteries where none are required, we will speak plainly upon Miss Gillfillian's change of heart. For believe me, she is the only one whose mind has changed.

"I do not love Miss Gillfillian,” he continued, “but her eyes are dazzled, her judgment misled, and her imagination excited by my title and my reported wealth. I can see clearly that she has no feelings for me personally. Bereft of these external appendages, she is indifferent."

"Are you sure of that?" asked Theodomani, a little more mildly.

"Yes, perfectly sure. But she has shown her true colors. If she is willing to give up her true love, and I believe she still has feelings for you, is she really worth losing sleep over? She has imposed a life-long separation, has she not? You were not to visit her again, she assured me."

"True," replied the high-spirited lover, again angry at being questioned like this. 

“Well, I have a simple plan to propose to you. Leave the city, engage in some active employment or amusement to preserve you from melancholy. I am planning to marry as soon as I can, but I can promise you I will not marry Miss Gillfillian.” 

“Then you do not love her!” exclaimed Theodomani, rising and clasping Geodor’s hand with an expression of relief. 

Geodor’s clear brilliant eye rested for a moment upon Theodomani, a sweet peculiar smile played about his mouth, and in a low solemn voice he said, “I never trifle with the human heart, and mine encases an image far too blessed to admit another.” 

“After you take a leave of absence and with me no longer available for her to see, one of two things will happen: either you will find you no longer can tolerate a woman who would discard you like that or she will realize all she has lost and return to you.” After a moment’s pause, he asked, “Have you perfect confidence in my honor? Do you consent to taking a break from this city?” 

“With the greatest pleasure," answered the happy Theodomani. "I, of course, hope she will resume our relationship when I return."

"You may change your mind before that time. However, with a little experience added to her present stock, she may become a better wife for you if that is the path you eventually choose," said Geodor, and they parted the best of friends.

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The Viscount of La Soutain (17)

 17

Samh 9.28.1342 21:37

Beritha was not surprised when Mrs. Gillfillian immediately began to sob and moan with less energy as soon as Abaledina left. 

“Beritha," the woman said, pushing aside the handkerchiefs and the smelling-bottles, which lay in excess about her. “Beritha, why did you not prevent Abaledina from receiving that fatal message? It will prove the ruin of all our plans, and then I will not be able to give you the extra for your services.”

“What message, madam?" asked Beritha, feigning innocence with great simplicity. 

“The one from Eriath in which he refuses to marry her. You examined them—you always do," said Mrs. Gillfillian, looking sternly at the her.

Her countenance was immovable and inexpressive. Mrs. Gillfillian had no power over her. “I did examine the messages today as you ordered, but the message you mention escaped my notice.”

“Beritha,” her mistress said, after a pause, “supposing I send you from my house for this act of disobedience, refuse to pay you what I promised upon Eriath's marriage with Abaledina, and prevent you from being admitted into another fashionable family in the city.” 

“I don’t think you are that foolish, madam. I am too useful to you," said Beritha, boldly, as she twirled one of the cords from the canopy over Mrs. Gillfillian’s bed nonchalantly. “There are the other reasons dismissing me would be a bad choice. I know the part you have acted toward your Eriath and Abaledina even though you know they should never be married. I do not think you want to, therefore, risk the exposure of that secret by depriving me of a home. 

“You know, madam,” she continued, “for I told you years ago: I work as I am paid. Unfortunately, of late, you have grown miserly. It has recently occurred to me that Miss Abaledina will give me as much if not more to reveal to her your long-cherished secret. I wish for the money, and I care not how it comes to me." 

“What would you have?” Mrs. Gillfillian asked sternly. Her rage was beyond expression, but Beritha did not fear it. “You came to me nearly a beggar—just look at yourself in that mirror—many a lady would be proud of the dress you wear. In my house, too, you have the utmost freedom. You receive company when you choose, you order the other servants, you control everything to your wish, but now you presume to interfere with the plans which I have labored years to achieve. This is your gratitude!”

"I know nothing of gratitude or ingratitude," replied Beritha, pertly. “As I said, I work for money. I am well assured that Abaledina would give two hundred-thousand-notes to learn my secret.” Here, she paused. Despite Jeanilotta’s belief in his affection for her, she had a feeling Viscount Elwynalam would pay at least that to know her secret. However, she wanted to keep that card to herself. “You have promised me one hundred-thousand-note upon the week of their marriage. If you will secure to me two hundred-thousand-notes instead, I will be silent; if not, I will tell her all."

Her proud mistress groaned aloud at having the tables turned, but she was well aware hysterics had less effect on her maid than they had on her husband or child. Beritha maintained her impenetrable visage.

“I will promise,” Mrs. Gillfillian said with effort. Beritha left the room and quickly returned with her com-tab.

“It must be a written promise. I have taken the liberty of writing it out. You just need to sign here with your fingerprint.” Beritha smiled. Jeanilotta was not the only person who could bend her parents to her will. 

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

The Viscount of La Soutain (16)

 16

Samh 9.28.1342 20:00

Beritha, as usual, was going through the day’s messages, when one of them alone seemed to interest her. Her finger hovered over the message for a moment. Suddenly, she paused.

“I will not,” she said quietly to herself. “I have not been paid. I will not toil for unfulfilled promises. I’ll let Miss Abaledina get this as it is. If my mistress's plans are foiled, so much the better. Either I shall be well paid the next time, or if there is reproach and revenge, I have only to reveal one of my many secrets." 

Letting the message continue untouched, she closed the app. 

* * * * * *

“Here is a message from my son," said the Lieutenant as he sat in the main sitting room perusing his com-tab.,

“I, too, just received one,” Abaledina stated.

The Lieutenant glanced over his message with the sharp, quick eye of a man of business. But Abaledina noted his face grew a shade paler, and he became agitated as he proceeded. 

“Twelve hundred-thousand-notes—four of them belonging to—," he slowly repeated in a voice scarcely above a whisper and his eyes fell on Abaledina before he broke off. She looked at him puzzled, and he quickly shook himself before continuing. "Bah! I trust this is not the beginning of a series of misfortunes for me. A dozen such losses would ruin me."

Mrs. Gillfillian had been dozing in an easy chair by the fire, but at the word “ruin," she opened her eyes and terrified demanded, "What is in ruins?”

“Your husband will be soon, madam," responded the irritated man, "You will need to regulate your domestic matters accordingly.” 

“Me! are you speaking to me, Lieutenant Gillfillian?" his wife demanded contemptuously. “And what do I have to do with the domestic affairs of our house? You surely have been dreaming."

"No, no—it is you who have been dreaming," vociferously shouted her husband, who was seldom angry, except with the loss of money. "I tell you, madam," he continued, "that some reduction must be made to our finances. I do not choose for the world to learn about this loss, so we will dismiss any servants as can be spared: Jeanilotta's maid, for instance. Beritha can serve you both. The new footman whom you hired yesterday must go and with him the chauffeur. Do not argue with me. It will have no effect, and tears will be utterly useless. If this is discovered, I will lose all my business!"

“Uncle," interrupted Abaledina, who had lost interest in the conversation when he had started ranting at his wife about finances. During his display, she instead chose to read the message in her inbox. “Uncle, may I have your permission to read a few lines from my message? It is from Eriath, and you may as well hear it at once if you will."

“You may read it if you will, but I don’t care to hear his nonsense."

“I don’t think you will call it such once you have heard it: 

“The time has arrived, Abaledina, when I must undeceive you as to my affection. Forgive me, if I cause you to be miserable. Honor demands that I should no longer allow you to waste your early and devoted love upon one who never has—nor ever can return it. 

“It is no easy task, Abaledina, to bring misery upon the head of one so beautiful and good, but I trust that you will not utterly reject my sympathy. My sorrow over causing you pain is deep and sincere. However, you would not wed me, Abaledina, surely you would not, while my heart secretly longs for another. I still and will always give you a brother's love, but that feeling has destroyed every desire for any dearer—”

“Stop!” sternly exclaimed Lieutenant Gillfillian. “The boy is infatuated with another and temporarily insane. And, yes, that is the same nonsense he wrote to me in a post script of the message I received: ‘I cannot fulfill my engagement—my heart is not in it.” It is supremely ridiculous.”

“Uncle,” said Abaledina, mildly, after waiting a moment, for him to calm, “Eriath is not alone in these sentiments. I do not love him. I do not wish to marry him."

“You, too!" he said, looking at Abaledina with a strangely mingled expression of anger and surprise. 

Here the conversation was interrupted by a something between a groan and a shriek from Mrs. Gillfillian. Abaledina sprang to her aunt while her uncle condescended to press the button to summon her maid. 

A moment after Beritha entered, Jeanilotta also came into the room highly flushed with excitement, but she stopped cold on beholding her mother extended upon the sofa in violent hysterics. Abaledina and Beritha bent over Mrs. Gillfillian, attempting to calm the woman while her uncle sat nearby reading the rest of his messages, uninterested, with a sour and angry countenance. 

“What is the meaning of this?” Jeanilotta asked. 

“Your mother has had many shocks. Eriath and I have called off our engagement, and your father plans to dismiss several servants, including your maid.”

"Well, papa,” she flew at her father in a rage, “what is this you are going to do? I shall not let Adela go.”

“She must go. Beritha will wait upon you," he replied firmly.

“My maid shall not go. You have my word for it." continued Jeanilotta, who having been idolized from childhood was far more accustomed to obey her own dictates instead of the commands of her parents. She then summoned Adela to come to her.

“Adela,” she said as soon as the maid entered, “do you acknowledge any other masters or mistresses than myself?” 

No, ma'am.”

“Do I pay you well?” 

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Do you wish to leave me?” 

“No, ma'am.”

“Well, they talk of sending you away.” Jeanilotta  pointed at her father, and Adela began to cry. “Don’t fret! You shall not go. Listen, and do what I bid you to do: Go to my private den, lock the door, and remain there till I release you. Now!” 

Adela disappeared immediately. 

“There, sir, you will not send her away. Do you not see?” she added, looking sharply at her father. Abaledina had unfortunately witnessed many battles such as this between her cousin and aunt and uncle. She knew what the outcome would be before it had concluded and was surprised only that her uncle had not seemed to have anticipated it.

“Now, papa,” Jeanilotta continued without another glance toward her frenzied mother, "I come here with some good news. Would you like to hear it?”

“No,” he growled.

“But you will listen, nevertheless, and it will do you good. How would you fancy Viscount Elwynalam for a son-in-law?”

Abaledina’s gasp was thankfully covered by Mrs. Gillfillian’s continued hysterics. For a second, she was worried that Beritha alone had heard it. The maid’s eyes had flicked toward her and returned to their work so quickly that Abaledina thought perhaps she had imagined it. 

“How—what do you mean?" her uncle asked, smiling in spite of himself. 

“Simply this, I have discarded Theodomani, and Viscount Elwynalam at present pays me the most serious attentions.”

“But you gave Montrevor your word,” interrupted her father, his smile falling. 

“No matter," she replied. For a moment her lips trembled with some unexpressed emotion. “You and mother had not yet signed the contract, and one cannot always keep one's promises. I suppose you will not object to the change?” 

“Let me alone. I am surprised only that Viscount Elwynalam agreed to it.” Jeanilotta’s eyes fell and a slight blush filled her cheeks. He continued with good-natured petulance. “I won’t be held responsible for any evil that results from any such changes.” 

Lieutenant Gillfillian returned to his messages, and after a few moments bade his wife a hasty good night. 

“Try to come out of your hysterics as rapidly as possible," he added before retiring to his study. 

Jeanilotta came over to where Abaledina and Beritha attended her mother for a few moments, but once she saw there would be no opportunity to communicate the change to a rational mother, she withdrew to her own apartment. After helping Beritha move the inconsolable woman to her bed, Abaledina soon followed her cousin’s example since she could render no farther assistance to her aunt. 

* * * * * *

In her private den, she first perused Eriath's long message again. She blessed him for his goodness of heart, but she could not solve the mystery of why it contained almost the same information she had sent him without being a reply to her message. She wondered if her message had perhaps vexed him so much that he wanted to be the one rejecting her instead of being rejected by her. She quickly discarded this solution because it was unworthy of him. She believed it to be more likely that he wanted the blame to rest upon him instead of her. Although this explained his message to her uncle, it still did not satisfy the reason he sent such a message to her. She decided she would have to wait until he arrived to secure the truth from him.

Her thoughts then turned to Jeanilotta’s proclamation and Lord Elwynalam. He had expressed the most tender sentiments to her at the museum with the statement that he would wait for her. She saw Theodomani leaving and knew her foolish cousin must have broken his heart. When she arrived in her empty parlor after Jeanilotta had sent her there on false premise of another visitor, she should have turned around and gone back to the main sitting room. Instead, it seemed that once she had left, Lord Elwynalam had fallen prey to her cousin’s wiles. 

She was slightly unsettled because had he waited until tomorrow, she would have felt released enough from her engagement to court him. She understood that she had asked much of him, so she did not begrudge him his choice. Before she drifted off to sleep, she resolved to keep her distance from him now that he had chosen another.

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

The Viscount of La Soutain (15)

 15

Samh 9.28.1342 16:00

Right after the ball, Abaledina feared that in being independent she had created for herself bitter enemies. She had fallen asleep forming plans of reconciliation with those whom she feared she had offended. 

Lord Elwynalam soon became a frequent and unceremonious visitor. Upon his first visit, she was able to speak privately and from her heart with him. At that time, she reminded him that until Eraith formally released her from their engagement, she would not allow herself to think of loving anyone. In her heart, she believed she would eventually be free, but she would never make a man wait for her on such uncertainty.

Once this fact was cleared between them, he displayed all the kindness of a brother to Abaledina. He never brought up tender subjects and never tried to pressure her into giving more of her heart than she felt was proper. This respect he afforded her made her feel at ease with him, and by degrees, she displayed as the occasion demanded her varied talents. 

Abaledina noticed that from the night of the ball, Jeanilotta had become an altered being. Abaledina had attempted to reconcile with her cousin, but she was cold and haughty. Had this slight been her only personality change, Abaledina might have worked harder to resolve the difference with her. But she noticed that her cousin treated Theodomani with cold distance. She was nervous and irritable with him. On the other hand, Jeanilotta did all she could to show the Viscount that she was brilliant and beautiful. 

Abaledina noted Theodomani continued to spend his evenings at their home, but when Lord Elwynalam was there, he was all but ignored. She stepped forward and tried to be attentive as she could without misleading Jeanilotta’s beau, but she could see his confidence in the Viscount began to falter. Whenever he glanced at Jeanilotta, Theodomani was affected by her attitudes and reactions. She knew Jeanilotta's indifference did nothing to ease his suspicions. 

Lord Elwynalam had not changed, however. One evening a fortnight after the ball, he took Abaledina to an art museum. It was a brisk evening, but they had both agreed to walk. 

The bottom floor of the La Soutain Museum of Art, contained ancient and modern works from all over Samh. They were first grouped by age and then by location. The middle level contained ancient and modern works from other planets in Upsilon Andromedae. The top floor contained replications of artwork from ancient Earth. 

“Which is your favorite collection?” he asked as they stood in line in the great entrance hall for tickets.

“I like all art, as long as it’s good,” she said with a smile. “My favorite is Ancient Western Guillway, Medieval Dathuane, and Modern Anorraq and Swienzea. I also like some of the work from Earth. How about you?” 

“Ancient Western Guillway and Modern Anorraq are good, but I like the Medieval art from some of the other planets in Upsilon Andromedae.” 

“I haven’t really spent much time on the items from other planets. Why don’t we start there, and you can explain what you see in it.”

With that, they were off to the second floor, and Lord Elwynalam showed her a corner gallery she must never have explored before. Inside it were sculptures made of layers of what looked like a jellyfish bell in different shapes and orientations nestled slightly apart from each other and floating in the air. She had to agree, the designs were unique and quite beautiful. 

Then, the viscount led her down a corridor where metallic shards were arranged in different formations. As the light hit them, they revealed the face of the founding colonizers of each planet. 

“This is a series by Bricht. I am not overly fond of some of his work but these are fascinating.”

“I think I have been to this museum hundreds of times, but I never discovered these treasures on this floor,” she said.

“I’m glad you enjoy them,” he replied. She felt his gaze on her and turned. Both of their blue eyes locked and her breath hitched.

“You are more beautiful than any of the art in this museum,” he said, his voice raspy. She could not stop the blush from rising to her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he swallowed loudly. “I know you are still engaged. I should not have voiced that thought. I find it very difficult to sit on the outside and watch you struggle with your contract—doing all you can to behave honorably—while at the same time your cousin flirts shamelessly with me in front of her betrothed. The only way I can be in your presence and behave honorably toward you is by sitting across the room and trying to ignore her dishonorable behavior. Here with you alone, where I was not under such pressure, I allowed my guard to drop. Please, forgive me.” 

“I—I don’t know what to say. A small part of me whispers I should kill my conscience. But then I would be like my cousin, and her behavior right now is detestable to me. I do enjoy spending time with you, but I keep you at arms-length as best that I can. I cannot give you any promise of what may happen once I am released. I like to think we would get along quite well, but if you are tortured over me, perhaps we should not be in each other’s presence until my fate is better decided.”

“Staying away from you would torture me even more. I will do better at controlling my words and keep reminding myself it cannot be too much longer until you hear a response from Eriath.”

* * * * * *

As they walked home in silence, Geodor tried to sort through all his thoughts. He had already used his resources and spare time to discover that Abaledina was almost as rich as he was—and that she had no access to her fortune for another year. He knew that she had been betrothed at a young age to her purported cousin, but he had found no record of birth for Eriath Gillfillian—yet. He had also learned that the Gillfillians were in deep financial trouble. On the surface, it looked as if they were trying to claim her income through their son, but there were many loose ends that made the situation extremely messy. 

As they approached the Gillfillian’s home, Theodomani stormed out of the front door, flashing a jealous look his way. 

When they entered the main sitting room, Jeanilotta was alone, dabbing a bit of rose water behind her ears. 

“My dear Abaledina," she said, "there is a person awaiting your return in your apartment; she desired to see you immediately.” 

“I had a lovely evening, Lord Elwynalam. Thank you for opening my eyes to a whole new world of artwork.” Abaledina said, curtsying slightly.

“It was my pleasure,” he replied. With that she rushed out of the room to meet her visitor. 

Turning back to Jeanilotta, he noticed she wore an almost malicious smile of triumph upon her face.

“Where is Theodomani tonight?” Geodor demanded, knowing he had just left.

“Mr. Montrevor does not visit us now," replied Jeanilotta with a slight expression of disdain. “Indeed, our engagement was one formed in comparative childhood three years ago, and it has never been deemed a very suitable alliance by my parents.”

“What could they possibly find wrong with his proposal? He is doting, and I believe his wealth is greater than that of your family."

“I’m sure my parents have bestowed few thoughts upon his wealth. Their wealth is more than sufficient.”

Geodor kept his face a mask.

“If they have always been against it, then why has it been permitted to exist until the present time?” he asked, with an air of indifference. 

“Circumstances have favored it. Indeed, they had regarded its consummation as a thing in the very distant future. They have long believed we would eventually separate."

"But as it approaches—"

"As it approaches," interrupted Jeanilotta, "I find I have an absolute repugnance to marrying him. As soon as I realized my feelings, I felt I needed to immediately destroy in him any expectations he might have to save him from prolonged heartache.”

“I must agree that one should not marry where one does not love,” he replied, secretly amazed at how such a fickle woman could be related to Abaledina. Their conversation languished for a few moments, during which Geodor remained in deep thought absentmindedly nodding his head as she continued prattling. 

Then suddenly the light touch of a finger upon his arm jerked him back to the present. He turned his eyes upon Jeanilotta. 

"You are dreaming, my lord,” she merrily exclaimed. “You forget my presence."

"True. I beg your pardon," he replied. With that he did his best to focus on her conversation and pretended to forget all else. He could see Jeanilotta was proud of her brilliance and seemed to believe that she was making a magnificent impression. 

Geodor neither encouraged nor denied her clear aims. He did not care how she felt about him. He could play her game as long as she wanted without falling victim to it. So, he maintained an engaged indifference until he felt he had stayed long enough to be polite.

“Oh, must you go so soon?” she cooed as he stood to depart. 

“Yes,” he replied firmly and then quickly exited the house to keep her from pressing him further. 

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

The Viscount of La Soutain (14)

 14

Samh 9.15.1342 3:00

Beritha was with her mistress at three in the morning still listening to the tirades of a night gone horribly wrong when, late, or rather early—as it was, Jeanilotta begged admission to her mother's dressing room. Mrs. Gillfillian went from horribly upset to consoling. 

“Is it to be endured?" Jeanilotta demanded impatiently, her eyes flashing a fire not normally seen there. “Is it to be endured?" she repeated, petulantly. 

“Tush! my love—he is a viscount. Men like him will do what they please in spite of us. But listen—it is useless to be angry, we must transact our affairs deeper. I know that Abaledina will refuse your brother. I presume her antics tonight were performed because she intends to captivate this same gentleman. Can we allow this to happen?

“No!” Jeanilotta answered vehemently.

“No, indeed. Your brother will be ruined if she marries another because we cannot survive without her money. If Viscount Elwynalam stands in the way of our success, our entire faith must be on you. You are the only one with the power to remove that obstacle."

“Me!" exclaimed the passionate girl. "How? He barely gave me a glance this evening!” 

For a moment, the intriguing mother scanned her daughter's face then with a voice and manner which plainly showed that the deep waters of affection had never rippled over her heart, said, "Can you renounce your love of Theodomani?"

"He loves me, and he’s rich! Viscount Elwynalam paid me no mind this evening. You ask me to give up what is certain for what may not be attainable. Never—never!"

"But the circumstances, my child—consider them well,” she allowed her voice to drop for a calculated minute. “Of course, you are free to choose."

"Mother! mother! How could I do this?" Beritha watched as the young woman pressed her small hands to her head as if to repress its wild, unnatural thoughts. 

“Think calmly, my love. Have you no ambition for a title—no desire for the boundless wealth he is said to possess? In short, Jeanilotta, could you not forget Theodomani Montrevor, the plain entertainer’s son, if you were the bride of Viscount Elwynalam, the nobleman doctor?” 

“And what of Theodomani?” gulped the girl. 

“Do you fancy that because Theodomani declares that he could not live without you, that he is in earnest?" her mother asked with a chuckle and a slight sneer which at once defeated her object because nothing aroused Jeanilotta like contempt or opposition.

 “He has been true and faithful to me. He is not the risk that it would be if I tried for the Viscount. No—I cannot—I will not give him up."

"Well then—the effect of all this romancing is upon your own head. Just do not come crying to me when Abaledina's fortune is united to Viscount Elwynalam's, and she the viscountess of his splendid mansion. Know that you now have been given that choice, but you refuse—so good night—I wish you joy of your decision." And with that, Beritha followed the matron to her sleeping apartment.

As soon as the panel was shut with the daughter on the other side, her mistress predictably began her plotting.

“You know what you must do. As soon as she is asleep, read the diary and let me know how things lay.” 

“Aye, madam.” 

It had been a sultry autumnal day, and the air of the house was heavy with the perfume of an immense quantity of flowers scattered in every direction for the ball. To Beritha, it was oppressive. She threw open a window in her room and stepped out onto the balcony with her com-tab to cool down in the night breeze before hacking her way into Jeanilotta’s diary. 

Once she had finished her task, she was relieved to see her mistress would be pleased:

9.16.1342 

Dearest, 

It is all true. I, who have been idolized for years, could not suffer to see her take precedence. I have loved her it is true. When her gentle eyes are upon me, and I feel how pure her spirit is, there is a momentary wish to be like her—but no! Impossible! This night has called forth my evil nature. Henceforth, though I must speak only sweet words so none suspect the revenge and hatred in my heart. To-night he chose to linger at her side. It shall not again be like this. But Theodomani—ah, well, let the future decide. Perhaps my rejection of you will not have you stray too far. If things with the viscount do not work out in my favor, I can retrieve you. As for me, I will mold this future somewhat to my will. But Abaledina—Abaledina—beware how you cross my path!" 

 

Beritha leaned back into her chair and considered her own path. She had initially judged correctly: Abaledina had caught the viscount’s eye. If Abaledina never married Eriath, her work would be unpaid. Jeanilotta was willing to risk her happiness that she could catch the viscount’s eye, but Beritha knew men like him. They might amuse themselves with someone as low-class as Jeanilotta, but they could smell money and high-class from a mile away. Men like the viscount did not marry beneath their station. She snorted. If she had the choice between the two girls, she most definitely would choose Abaledina. 

With her mind made up on the path she would take, all she had to do now was figure out how to get off of the side of her mistress and onto Abaledina’s side. It was late. She would think about it on the morrow. 

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

The Viscount of La Soutain (13)

 13

Samh 9.14.1342 22:00

Viscount Elwynalam’s sharp retort did more than he promised, and they were unbothered for the rest of the evening. He parted from Abaledina with a friendly grasp of the hand, after she willingly gave permission for him to become a regular, welcome visitor. 

Upon retiring to the shared parlor immediately afterward, Abaledina was conscious of an unusual feeling of pleasure, which she correctly attributed to spending such a wonderful evening in such good company. With all her wealth and beauty, Abaledina was neither proud nor vain and did not for a moment suppose that Lord Elwynalam had after only two meetings fallen in love with her. She even did not presume that he intended to do so at some point in the future. In fact, her humble opinion of herself only allowed her to know she had been very happy with him, and she supposed he had also enjoyed her company because he had sought out no one else for company. 

“Is he not splendid?" exclaimed Jeanilotta, as she brushed into the parlor with a flushed cheek and flashing eye. “I acknowledge it frankly: I would adore such a man for my husband. Now, tell me your opinion."

 “I can hardly form one on such a slight acquaintance," replied Abaledina, quietly, “But I think he possesses a noble soul." 

“Did he tell you when he was coming back to see us?” 

“He asked me if it would be okay for him to return without making a formal date. I told him that would be fine, but isn’t it wiser for us, to think little about him? In but a few weeks you and Theodomani will be united, and I—I—” here she hesitated and blushed deeply.

“Speak for yourself. Unlike you, I have not been pledged from childhood to a man, and I did not give that pledge on my father’s dying breath. I have no honor oath binding me to Theodomani. I merely accepted his proposal two years ago, and surely that cannot bind me to him like your oath binds you to my brother. Who is to say what might happen in the next few weeks?” 

With that, Jeanilotta pranced into her bathroom, leaving Abaledina staring after her perplexed. In her mind, forming an attachment that was based on love as an adult had much more weight than an attachment forced upon you as a child. 

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

The Viscount of La Soutain (12)

 12

Samh 9.14.1342 19:00

Geodor and Jeanilotta were left standing in the middle of the room where all he could do was offer his arm to her, which was graciously accepted.

“Is your cousin really ill? Have I caused her to be more so? Let’s check on her,” he said, trying to lead her into the ballroom.

"Not seriously so, my lord," Jeanilotta said quickly, detaining him, “She was only a little unwell yesterday, but mamma is so careful of her for my brother's sake."

Geodor frowned. Based on what Abaledina told him, the match was unwelcome, yet, her mother and cousin were clearly pushing for it and wanted to make sure he knew about it. Although Jeanilotta clearly had a doting beau whom she claimed to love, here she was simpering on his arm. Ironically, Abaledina, who stated she was not in love with the man she was to marry had made no flirtatious advances toward him. His line of work had taught him to be suspicious, and he began to wonder what exactly was going on in this household. Whatever it was, he had a feeling Abaledina was the one going to be harmed by it. 

"Nevertheless, we will go ask her about her health," he said firmly as he moved off in the direction that Mrs. Gillfillian had taken. Regrettably, at every turn were obstructions through the dense crowd.

“I think she went this way,” Jeanilotta said sweetly. They progressed for a bit, and then she tugged him a different way. “Actually, I believe it was this way.” 

Periodically, she would stop and talk, showing off that she was hanging on his arm. He began to believe she was deliberately keeping him from his goal. However, they eventually came upon the old ladies with whom Abaledina was left.

“Well, I was sure mother was bringing her to sit here,” Jeanilotta said. “Excuse me, Mrs. Urlegaldo, have you seen Abaledina?”

“Yes, she said she had a headache and went to her room just a few minutes ago.” 

“Oh, my, I shall have to go and check on her myself to make sure that silly maid of hers is taking good care of her!” Mrs. Gillfillian exclaimed as she came up behind him. “I knew she overdid it tonight!”

“I was preparing to leave. I would like to go up to her and bid her adieu.”

“Oh, I am afraid Abaledina is too ill to see you anymore this evening. I will be sure to give her your regards,” the aunt parried. 

“No, if she permits me, I must see her to wish her well," he replied, determinedly. 

Mrs. Gillfillian hurried off but soon returned. Arousing his suspicion that she had not actually visited the woman in question. 

“I’m sorry, Viscount Elwynalam,” she declared, “Abaledina expressed much regret but said that it would be impossible for her to see you again this evening.” Geodor gave Mrs. Gillfillian a polite nod. Then he tenderly placed Jeanilotta's hand in that of Theodomani. He started for the door then stopped and drew Mrs. Gillfillian aside.

“Madam,” he said in a low, calm tone. “I offer thanks for your exceeding kindness. I do have one more favor to ask. Will you have the goodness to summon the Abaledina’s maid?”

“With the greatest pleasure," she replied, as politely as she could, but her anger and fear were quite visible to him. 

When Luna appeared, he simply said, "Conduct me to your mistress's parlor immediately.” The simple girl did as she was told. Once they were at the door, he continued, “Go and see if Miss Gillfillian will receive Viscount Elwynalam for a few moments.” 

She entered, and quickly returned. 

“She begs you to enter.” 

He was not surprised to find that contrary to what those below had said, she did not look ill at all. In fact, he had never seen her half so beautiful as when she rose from the easy chair in her private den, and advanced through the open panel to meet him. A single tear glistened in her eye, and cast a saddened expression over her whole face. 

Geodor's first impulse was to clasp her in his arms, but he was not a creature of impulse. Tenderly taking her hands in his own, he said, in a sweet musical voice, "I have been forced to be very rude to you tonight. I trust I am already pardoned, but permit me to ask if I have been in any way accessory to your illness.”

“No, indeed," she replied, smilingly. “Fear not, my illness only exists in my aunt's imagination. I retired here because although I am used to being a spectator, I grew weary of being a prisoner, too. Here,” she said pointing to the books in her library, “I have friends that are always true." 

 I have a favor to request," said Geodor, after having contemplated her a moment with surprise and admiration. "Will you return to the ball with me? I think I can secure for ourselves another pleasant hour, and I shall ever be grateful.”

* * * * * *

Abaledina’s stomach flip-flopped at the request, but she hesitated. She understood the reasons for her aunt's contrivance and knew that she would be very angry with such a plan. On the other hand, she had already commenced her opposition to her aunt’s plans, and the present was a good opportunity to show her independence. Then, there was the fact she really wanted to oblige him. 

“Bring my gloves," she said to Luna, and after pulling them on, she gave her hand to him. They silently made their way to the room where her aunt had interrupted them. Lord Elwynalam then proceeded, as if nothing had occurred, to remark upon a family portrait that had been exquisitely done.

“That was brought from Swienzea," said Abaledina. "The lady leaning upon the bosom of the aged man was my mother; it was the last time she wept upon the bosom of her grandfather; they both died soon after. The other elderly man was my great-grandfather’s neighbor. The tall stern man is my grandfather. The neighbor’s son is the man sitting there in blue who is holding the hand of his young son. I’ve often wondered how my dear mother found herself in a portrait with so many proud and stern men." 

Lord Elwynalam gazed long and earnestly at the portrait. 

“In Swienzea, you must have a large and well-connected family. Where are they?" he asked, at length.

“I’ve never met them," she replied. “I’m sorry that I do not know their names. I have no recollection of my mother and only think of her as she is represented in this portrait. My mother died young while she was here in Anorraq.”

“Ah, there you are, my love,” her aunt’s shrill voice suddenly interrupted their private perusal of the artwork. “Have you recovered so soon? How very fortunate!” Mrs. Gillfillian had a smile plastered upon her face as she roughly kissed Abaledina's cheek. “You are pale yet," she continued, chidingly. “Viscount Elwynalam must have been a powerful magnet to have drawn you from your sick room. I only hope he shall not have cause to repent the indiscretion."

“Mrs. Gillfillian,” said Lord Elwynalam, who was clearly fed up with all her aunt’s artifice. “I found this lady quite well and enjoying a book, which she relinquished for my gratification. If relieving a lady from the sickness of being a bored prisoner was reckless on my part, I will assume the consequences," he shot back at her. “If, however, you are fabricating an illness to prevent your ward from enjoying society, it must be reported to the police.” That said, he gave the woman a crushing look, wrapped Abaledina’s hand around his arm, and passed into the next room with her. 

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

The Viscount of La Soutain (11)

 11

Samh 9.14.1342 18:00

The long-anticipated day for the ball arrived after immense preparations had been made for the reception of all who were important in La Soutain. After much debate, Abaledina and her cousin dressed in matching, armless, body suits with crescent-shaped cutouts on the sides. The pant legs of the suit flared into a heel length split skirt. As usual, Abaledina’s was in violet and Jeanilotta’s in a daffodil yellow.

 The apartments were brilliantly lit, the guests arrived gaily dressed every moment, the enchanting music played in the ballroom, those who were politically minded sat in earnest discussion upon the latest work in the mines, the ambitious parents were delighted to push their young charges into the arms of suitable matches, and the well-trained servants moved noiselessly here and there to execute the multiplicity of commands. Abaledina did her best to help where she was needed and to stay out of the way where she was not.

When Viscount Elwynalam was announced, those around her strained to see him. He, however, proved to be an unostentatious man, simply dressed in a suit of brown, with a bold, cream and olive neckcloth carelessly wrapped about his neck. This with his unzipped collar had the effect of framing a well-toned upper chest. On one shoulder was a calf-length, violet cape that was held in place by a hand-sized crest of La Soutain. To the infinite surprise of all, he came on foot and unattended. 

After cordially exchanging salutations with Lieutenant Gillfillian and his lady, he passed to Theodomani and Jeanilotta, who welcomed him warmly, and then to Abaledina. A slight blush overspread her sweet countenance, as she extended her hand and replied to his remarks with perfect self-possession. 

“I am afraid my work does not allow me much time to socialize. I am a stranger here,” he said at length. “Your cousin is engaged with her beau so will you allow me a general claim upon your hand whenever you wish to dance?” 

Pleasure swept through her soul momentarily, but it was quickly stifled by the knowledge of the envy and punishment she would incite against her. 

“I truly wish I could allow you to make that claim,” she said raising her eyes to his, “but I, too, am, unfortunately engaged.”

“Unfortunately?” 

“It was arranged when we were children. I have not been able to broach the matter of breaking the engagement because my intended has constantly been away.”

“That does not sound like much of an engagement.”

“All the same, I will do all I can to render this evening a pleasant experience for you, but please pardon me if I hesitate to take for myself so enviable a distinction as dancing with you the entire night. I will give you my hand for two dances provided you ask my cousin for the same number.”

“Then I will dance but four times," he replied decisively. 

“How can you make such an assertion," she asked, teasingly, "with all these eyes glancing so wishfully about you?” 

“I am solely at your mercy. I can easily avoid those interactions that do not appeal to me if you will oblige me by not making any formal introductions." Then drawing her arm through his own, an act that caused her heart to beat faster, he led her to the dance floor. 

She soon discovered he was an excellent dancer and hoped her skills were up to the match. Although she and her cousin were well-trained, she had only rarely used the skills. At most balls, she was required to make sure everything ran smoothly. She spent most of her time amusing the young girls who could not find dances or pairing them with the gentlemen who asked her for one. To dance with Lord Elwynalam was a treat. 

Once they finished the first dance, he did not pressure her for the second—which was fine with her since she would have refused until he danced at least once with Jeanilotta. Instead, they passed slowly through the different rooms, stopping to discuss the artwork. Some splendid pictures and a few marble busts occupied him for a long time. Never had Abaledina so enjoyed an intellectual conversation. It was a new and exquisite source of pleasure to share her thoughts with someone so considerate and highly gifted. 

She was not, however, permitted this happiness undisturbed because at every turn she encountered the jealous, watchful eye of her aunt, who repeatedly fixed upon her with an expression of angry surprise. To make matters worse, she would come over and attempt to conceal her ire with flattering attentions to their comfort. 

“Abaledina, my love,” she cooed at length with a sweet smile as she approached them, “this will never do. Yesterday, you were sadly ill, and now you are standing all the evening. Really, my lord, you must excuse my anxiety for the sweet child. She is so very dear to us and is soon, you know, to become doubly our own by her marriage to my son, whom she has loved since childhood. My daughter will be happy to relieve her for you must permit Abaledina some rest." 

“I am fine, dear aunt,” she replied, in bewilderment. 

“Now, I know how you like to hide it when you are under the weather,” Mrs. Gillfillian said, pulling her away from Lord Elwynalam. Then, she led her off to a seat between two old ladies so rapidly that had Abaledina truly been sick, she would have not made it. 

"Now, my dear friends, please feel free to exercise your authority over my niece for at least an hour,” her aunt admonished the ladies. “It is all for her own good. I’m afraid she has been exerting herself too much this evening.”  However, her aunt apparently did not believe the ladies would be able to keep up the task very long because every five minutes she seemed to come back and ensure Abaledina remained with them. 

Finally, when Abaledina realized there was no hope of any more pleasure this evening, she excused herself and went to the parlor she shared with her cousin, where she could at least entertain herself by reading.

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The Viscount of La Soutain (10)

 10

Samh 9.11.1342 07:00

The first rays of approaching day faintly struggled through the curtains before Abaledina finished her weary task. At length, however, the message was finished. She scrolled through it, checked to make sure she had entered Eriath’s address correctly, and hit send, entrusting it to the ether. Then, she threw herself upon her silken couch and hoped no one would disturb her for at least five hours. 

* * * * * *

Beritha was startled from her light slumber by the bing of a message being received at such an unusual hour. When she dressed with her usual carefulness, she seemed not more than thirty years of age. At this time in her most coarse state of undress and in the grey morning light, she looked her age of forty-five. She was rather tall and possessed that kind of second-rate civility which arises from seeing but not mingling with really genteel society. It was an artificial refinement that cloaked the actual vulgarity of her mind. 

Her sharp features were not bad, and her eyes evinced a thorough knowledge of the wickedness of the world. They were gray, restless, piercing, but could sometimes be made to assume a soft, flirtatious laziness. Beneath their assumed expression of frankness and simplicity, there existed a deep-rooted, cunning selfishness. 

With a smile of triumph, she quickly turned on her com-tab and began patiently to peruse its message. She often wondered how it was the girls did not realize the filtering system installed by the Gillfillians was not one run by AI but one that sent all their emails to her instead of the intended recipient. However, after six years, deleting messages and sending different ones to keep Miss Abaledina and Master Eriath together was beginning to wear even on her. She noted that the rewards for her interventions were becoming less and less. They were also being pushed forward to the day of their marriage when she was to receive a hundred-thousand-note of the heiress’ money for herself. 

She was perturbed that these proud people who employed her made her do all the work so they could have all the gain. She had worked hard over the years to make this match occur, but she began to wonder if there would not be better money earned from revealing the plot to the heiress instead of working secretly against her.

This message was similar to almost all of them between Abaledina and Eraith—professing the deepest of brotherly or sisterly affection while stating no feeling of true love existed and requesting to be released from the obligation of marrying. She could not believe children these days thought they knew what marriage and love were about—so much so that they would spurn their parents’ choices. When she first heard of the match, she promptly recognized how well it would improve both of the children’s positions. Adding Abaledina’s wealth to the business acumen of Eriath’s father would have created an empire. 

Beritha was not a deaf servant, though. For the last four years, she had heard that the luck of Mr. Gillfillian had run out and that he was heading toward financial ruin. Abaledina’s fortune was now wanted to stall that process probably until he could run through the young orphan’s inheritance as well. Beritha might not understand the ideals of love, but she did understand the ideals of money. She had began to worry that once the day of the marriage occurred, she would be shorted. 

After reading the early morning message from Abaledina, she sat in thought until Mrs. Gillfillian's notification summoned her. With the young woman’s message open on her com-tab, she proceeded to the luxurious dressing room of that lady. 

In Beritha’s opinion, Mrs. Gillfillian was lazy, extravagant, and ambitious. The first and the last of these were in a constant state of battle. To gratify the middle one she was constantly in search of money, and to get it she descended to every malicious trickery. Her niece’s immense inheritance came to her upon her mother’s death, as she was a noble Swienzean lady. While her father improved the inheritance by doing mercantile speculations with his brother, she burned through Lieutenant Gillfillian’s share—which she saw as her rightful money. Accomplishing the union between her son and her niece was her precious scheme. Beritha had been with her long enough to know well the inner workings of her employer’s mind.

Messages on both sides had been intercepted, read, and others that were more congenial substituted in their places. To both of the youths, the all-engrossing passion of the other had been repeatedly declared. The sacredness of the pledge they made as mere children when they were under extremely trying circumstances was constantly reinforced to them. 

By sending Eraith away to school, the Gillfillians had kept them separated for years. Without any way of having free, innocent conversations, they were mutually deceived. Currently, each feared that withdrawing from the agreement would fatally wound the heart of the other. Therefore, when they had a few moments alone together, neither made a full disclosure of their real feelings. 

Mrs. Gillfillian received the newly intercepted message with pleasure from Beritha, whose abilities had never been detected by the children.

"This must never go! I would ruin all our plans,” Mrs. Gillfillian declared after reading the message. “I thank you for intercepting it. You can have this bracelet for your service, but I am going to continue holding it temporarily. My daughter has one like it, and she might disapprove." 

Beritha was not so easily deceived by the woman’s false gift. The heat of anger showed on her cheek, forcing her to turn so it would not be seen. Her mistress continued looking at the message and saw nothing of her servant’s ire.

"Now that is settled, there are a thousand preparations to be completed for our ball, which I can trust to no one but you." Her mistress gave directions with the ease and nobility of one accustomed to being obeyed. Beritha remained sullen; she had not been well paid for her work—again. 

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

The Viscount of La Soutain (9)

 9

Samh 9.10.1342 18:00

Theodomani spoke of nothing but the best qualities of his lady love the entire way to her home. He explained how she had taken ill at the thought of his death and had only now recovered enough to receive visitors. Geodor found this all amusing and a bit overdramatic on the lady’s part, but he kept his mouth shut on the topic. 

After their arrival, they were shown into the main parlor where the two cousins were focused on practicing their instruments. He recognized Jeanilotta, Theodomani’s beloved, at once from the description of her that he had received. A slight paleness added to the delicate clearness of her complexion. Her luxuriant black hair was knotted in two buns atop her head and a diamond studded net covered each. Two thin strands of hair framed her face in small ringlets. She was tall and commanding with that dignified movement and haughty gestures as she sat strumming the harp. Geodor’s first impression was that she did not seem to be one who had just recovered from a near fatal shock. It was clear that she must have been a belle of the city and not only knew this fact but reveled in it. 

He assumed the woman at the piano to be Abaledina, the orphaned cousin. From what he could see, she had chestnut-colored hair pulled back in a double French braid that was woven together into one braid at the loose ends. The cousins were similarly dressed, one in yellow and one in violet. Their leggings had contrasting thick black stripes running down the outside. Their short-sleeve, off-the-shoulder silk tops were patterned with geometric shapes. These were worn over what looked a tank top made of natural, undyed silk lace that had the same geometric patterns woven into it. 

They finished their song, and Jeanilotta impatiently asked, “I wonder where Theodomani is today?” 

“Here," the man next to him said. “Allow me to present Viscount Elwynalam, the man who saved me from an unfortunate death on the moon.” 

Jeanilotta laid aside her harp and rose with a grace that Geodor could tell was meant to display to every advantage her elegant figure before she quickly crossed to him. 

“I owe you much, my lord, and must forever remain your debtor. You have preserved my life by saving that of my friend." She dramatically gave a hand to him, as she said this while her full black eyes swam with tears in their clear crystal depths.

Although captivated and amused by this display, he noted the other young woman had risen from her seat and now stood gracefully next to the piano. 

Jeanilotta instantly noticed she had lost his attention and added, “Permit me to present to you, my cousin, my adopted sister, Abaledina.” 

As soon as all were introduced, Jeanilotta became very animated from the presence of the two men. After only a short while, Geodor realized she expected them both to hang on her every word. Theodomani naturally gratified her wish, but he found himself faking it. Her vanity was clear, but it was tempered by her desire to be adored. Without her specifically saying it, he believed it was Jeanilotta's impulse to charm him. 

He glanced at Theodomani, childlike and loving, as he feasted upon the heightened charms of his betrothed bride. There was no hint of jealousy—he was unaware of the guile in his lover’s eyes. 

Geodor smiled to himself. She would learn soon enough that he would not be a stepping stone for her next conquest. 

His mind preferred to focus on the quieter cousin. Abaledina had been cast into the shade by her Jeanilotta’s display. She took her embroidery stand and retired to a low window seat almost as soon as she had been introduced. It was her sapphire blue eyes and more womanly figure that attracted his attention, but she spent most of her time as a listener instead of a participant in the conversation. 

He often noticed the sweet smile that occasionally played about her mouth and felt he could accurately read the reactions in her eyes to the things discussed. This quiet expressiveness hinted at an inner strength and did more to raise her in his esteem than an hour of incessant talking could do.

“And what attraction was there to bring you to the moon?" asked Jeanilotta, when she noticed his eyes straying too long from her again. 

“If I had known the attractions in this room, perhaps I would have vacationed here instead!" replied Geodor. “La Soutain is celebrated the world over for the beauty of its ladies, but I had hardly hoped that I would all at once behold her two most lovely daughters."

"Reserve your admiration, my lord," continued Jeanilotta, unaware that he had easily avoided answering her question. "We hope to show you a world of beauty this week, if you honor our Friday ball with your presence.”

Careful not to let his smile drop at the mention of a ball, he glanced at all three of the other inhabitants. He was able to assure himself that if this was the same ball the thugs had mentioned earlier, none of those present was aware of the connection.

“Please, forgive us the imposition,” Abaledina spoke for the first time, misunderstanding his silence for reluctance to attend. “My aunt felt a ball would be the ideal way to celebrate Jeanilotta and Theodomani’s engagement as well as Theodomani’s safe return to us. Sometimes in her planning, she does not take the participant’s feelings into consideration.”

“I would love to attend. It will give me a perfectly acceptable chance to dance with you if you are willing.”

Abaledina blushed beautifully. 

“Perhaps you would also allow me to steal your betrothed for a dance,” he quickly added, turning to his new friend. Theodomani agreed whole-heartedly and backed it up with a diatribe on how well his betrothed danced. Glancing at Jeanilotta, though, he noticed an almost jealous look that she shot at Abaledina.

“Abaledina,” she said, her voice sweet and venomous, “you are looking sad tonight. Is it possible that the sudden departure of your betrothed, Eriath, is the cause? I did not think his absence had ever afflicted you thus before.” Turning to Geodor, she added, “I’m sure my brother wouldn’t mind you dancing with her in his absence.” 

He scanned Abaledina’s countenance at the mention of her engagement, and it indicated a severe internal struggle. 

"Yes, I, too, am betrothed," she absentmindedly added.

Pushing aside her embroidery, she excused herself from the party, stating she had some correspondence to complete. Geodor puzzled over this response. Prior to Jeanilotta’s statement, Abaledina seemed happy and content, sitting quietly with them. It was only after mention of the fiancé that she seemed sad. A slow smile crept across his face. If her heart were truly engaged, he would best be able to judge that at the ball. 

The men had stayed longer than was proper, but Geodor learned much and was introduced to a woman who stirred feelings of attachment inside him that he had never felt before. She also presented him with a mystery—and he loved trying to solve mysteries. 

The full ebook is available HERE or check back tomorrow for the next chapter.

The Viscount of La Soutain (8)

8

Samh 9.10.1342 10:00

On the sixth morning after his arrival home, the doors of Viscount Elwynalam's library were thrown open, and Mr. Theodomani Montrevor was announced. With his usual dignity and grace, Geodor cordially greeted the stranger for whom he had risked his own life. There was no idle speech between them, though. He felt this was the beginning of a true and sincere friendship. 

Theodomani repeatedly expressed his gratitude during their discussion, and Geodor brushed them off with a variety of questions he had wanted to ask his visitor. They were so involved in good conversation that time glided imperceptibly by until dinner was announced. Geodor insisted his new friend stay, and so their conversation continued into the dining room although at that point it turned to opinions on marriage. Here, Theodomani began to speak of his relationship with a woman named Jeanilotta. 

Scarcely had Geodor dismissed the servants who had waited on them while they ate and was just beginning a discussion on some of the imported fruits used to make the dessert, when the doorbell rang repeatedly and violently. Soon the sounds of an angry altercation reached them. 

“Listen,” he said, “and you will hear how my servants refuse to disobey me.” The voices became louder, and the usually suppressed and monotonous replies of Lobo grew more and more distinct until the conversation was heard without effort.

“I tell you,” said a voice Geodor did not recognize, “that we have come on a visit to your master! Show us in at once.”

“I will not—your names are not on the list, and no others are to be admitted. This is Lord Elwynalam’s command.”

“Do you know who we are? We are doing him a favor by taking time out of our day to visit him.”

“Doubtless, sirs.”

“Then show us in—why delay?”

"I dare not disobey orders.”

"Do as we wish, and we will take your consequences for you."

"I cannot.”

"You must."

“I will not." 

“Here is a fifty-note for your trouble.” 

“Even if you offered me a thousand-note, I would not allow you entrance to my master,” the calm voice responded, and Geodor smiled, proud of his servant’s loyalty.

The smile was quickly replaced with a frown as they directly heard the sound of a scuffle. Geodor placed his hand upon the button to summon someone to Lobo’s aid, but before he pressed it, two men in plain black suits entered indiscriminately. Through the door, another two continued struggling in the hallway with Lobo, who got free, rushed into the dining room, and bowed to his master.

"Please pardon me, my lord. I did all I could," he said, then rose and awaited further orders. 

Meanwhile, Geodor and Theodomani had both risen and bowed stiffly but ceremoniously to the intruders. Geodor motioned for Theodomani to sit again. 

“I wonder what emergency has caused these gentleman to honor me with their intrusion upon a private party.” Geodor stated to Theodomani. Then turning to the interlopers, he asked, “Is there some emergency at the hospital and all forms of traditional communication were unavailable for whatever reason?” 

The men, at the sight of Geodor in person, had entirely changed their domineering boldness for an aspect of cringing servility and forgot to reply immediately. Instead, they stared at him with distended eyes and impertinent curiosity as if to inhale in one breath a full dose of his nobility. 

“I am awaiting your answer,” he prompted impatiently.

"Why do you keep such an unmannerly servant at your door?” one replied vehemently, rubbing a bruised hand and pointing to Lobo, “I told him that we came to call upon you, but he refused to admit us. We are not accustomed to be so treated." 

“One would think, then, that you are only accustomed to dealing with awful servants. He obeyed his orders, sirs," Geodor replied with lofty contempt, “and will do so again. Lobo, show these gentlemen out. If need be, ring for assistance." 

Then motioning to Theodomani, Geodor passed with him into another apartment as Lobo tossed open the door and bowed slightly, clearly expecting the intruders to leave straightaway. 

As soon as Geodor and his friend had entered the adjoining room, however, the sound of the alarm rang out and five or six trained servants appeared to lend their aid to the situation. The visitors rushed into the apartment where Theodomani and he had retired while the servants rushed after them. 

“Silence!” exclaimed Geodor pulling an automatic rifle off the wall and aiming it at the intruders. “Mr. Montrevor, my friend, does your acquaintance extend to these gentlemen?”

“Not my acquaintance," replied Theodomani incredulously, “but I believe I recognize their faces and can inform your lordship of their names."

"My servant should have that from the security cameras and be able to fill out the report," said Viscount Elwynalam. "Lobo. Marcellus."

"Excuse us, sir,—I mean, my lord,” the man who had spoken earlier blubbered. “I didn’t mean to insist upon an conference, but we have not yet obeyed our instructions. There is to be a ball, and we were sent—" 

“Sir, you remain here at risk of your own life," Geodor interrupted. "This is my home, and it is my choice to allow entry only to those whom I please. You have forced your way into it, assaulted my servants, and generally destroyed my evening. Take that response back to whomever sent you, but do it quickly because your behavior is being reported to the authorities as we speak, and your freedom will not last much longer. Further, if you take one more step toward me or my guest, I will be forced to believe you mean us bodily harm and take the appropriate action against you.”

With a glance of icy coldness and withering hauteur, he retreated with Theodomani to his private apartments, maintaining the rifle sights upon the man nearest to them. Once inside, he double locked the door to effectually secure them.

“Ah," said Theodomani, blushing for the men’s poor behavior, "La Soutain has many noble souls, but for every man who has money, it seems only half have the manners that should go with it!”

“Don’t worry, my new friend," replied the host with great kindness. "It seems everywhere there are men with so much time on their hands, that they don’t feel the least hesitation about making the most unjustifiable demands upon others’ time. La Soutain is not alone in the possession of such individuals." 

Lobo’s face appeared on Geodor’s com-tab.

“They have gone, and peace has returned to the house,” he said with his unruffled demeanor. 

“Bring the rest of our dessert in here lest another committee appear and attempt to gain audience with me.”

“As you desire,” Lobo stated. 

After finishing dessert uninterrupted, they agreed that they should visit Theodomani’s fiancée that night.

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The Viscount of La Soutain (7)

 7

Samh 9.05.1342 10:00

Abaledina’s cousin, Eriath Gillfillian was a fine, generous twenty-five year old. Nature had given him both intellect and a large share of what the world calls common sense. However, he also had a strong sense of imaginative romance, which Abaledina believed would keep him from forcing her into a loveless marriage with him.

When he arrived, he brushed her forehead with a chaste kiss, and Abaledina felt instinctively that it was only prompted by fraternal love. For an instant, her heart was so lightened of its anxiety that a sweet musical laugh rang from her lips, and she moved quickly and gaily about like one whose happiness is suddenly complete. 

“Your message preceded you by so short a time that we were not quite prepared to receive you as we wished," his mother said, clearly excited by the greeting they exchanged. Instantly, Abaledina’s brow saddened, and the color faded from her face. The thought that she was pledged to him in marriage should have brought joy and hope. Instead, it threw a cloud over her future life. Gradually, she retired from the conversation. After an hour she went to her private room, requesting Luna ensure no one intruded. 

She felt the loneliness of her situation intensely! Her uncle was kind, indulgent, and fatherly, but he adored his son and regarded their engagement as an established thing. Approaching him about it only created assertations that no change could possibly be made. To him, one could never appeal in an affair of the heart because he saw romance as frivolity.

Jeanilotta, playmate of her childhood and current companion, had a thousand reasons for longing for the union, so it was of no avail to appeal to her. She knew her aunt was deeply artful. Although she appeared on the surface smooth and complaisant to all, she possessed a mean, low talent of prying into the affairs of those around her and an insatiable desire to control the actions of others. Abaledina knew she would exert every influence—good or bad—to bring about this event. 

Thus isolated from the sympathy which she wished to receive from the two most prominent women in her life, she had but one resource for her appeal. Taking a slip of paper, she wrote:

"Will my cousin Eriath grant me in my private den, at his soonest leisure, his company and thus greatly oblige me?”

She rang for Luna and entrusted the note with an injunction to deliver it only to Eriath. Luna was artless, however and ignorant of all intrigue. She received both the message and command but did not pay much attention to either. 

Abaledina was slightly concerned about the maid’s lackadaisical attitude, and when much time passed with no word on whether or not the task had been accomplished, she worried the note did not reach its mark. She finally prepared to seek her out, but upon opening the door of the shared parlor, she found Eriath in the hallway about to knock. He followed her into the room in all politeness but with a hesitating step one would not expect in a lover flying to his beloved. 

“My mother said you wanted to see me?” he asked. 

This startled Abaledina and revealed to her that her maid had not been as careful as she had instructed. Still, she led her cousin into the private den, took her favorite seat, and pointed to a nearby chair for him. 

“Dear cousin, may I be permitted a hug before I sit?" he asked. At her assent, her head rested upon his shoulder, luxuriating in the confidence and friendship between them. 

After releasing herself from his momentary embrace, she said almost tearfully, “Forgive my indiscretion. I have no other friend to guide me in this. I must confide to you that which I wish I could keep secret because I fear it will greatly upset you. I can’t attempt to misunderstand the contents of your message and must tell you the true sentiments of my heart. For years—”

“Eriath! Eriath!" Lieutenant Gillfillian’s loud, impatient tones and quick, heavy footsteps were heard outside the sliding panel of the private den. Immediately the young man started from his position. Opening the panel, he met his father, who had great unease embedded in his face. 

“I cannot express how sincerely I regret to interrupt your dialogue, but I am compelled by the most urgent motives. A message just reached me, informing me of the  probable failure of the house of Wildon, Strong, and Company, in East Moumalt. I have considerable interest in this business, but I must remain here because of other equally pressing business. Therefore, you must go in my place and leave at once.”

Abaledina thought she visibly noted Eriath’s chest puff with pride at his father’s request. 

"With the greatest pleasure. I am entirely at your service," Eriath replied. 

“I appreciate your self-denial. I assure you that I shall not soon forget it. Come. We have much to discuss and little time," said Lieutenant Gillfillian.

Without so much as a longing glance back, Eriath was out the door and walking toward Lieutenant Gillfillian’s study. "Explain to me the particulars and command me to the utmost,” she heard him say as he left.

“Perhaps this is a good thing," murmured Abeladina. She had decided her words would not have come out well. She suspected it would be better to write out her feelings than speak openly to Eriath. She also felt a letter would give him time to adjust to the situation before he needed to respond. Most importantly, she would not have to see the result of breaking his heart directly. 

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The Viscount of La Soutain (6)

 6

Samh 9.05.1342 8:00 

Geodor had slept well and was up before dawn heading to the capital of Anorraq, Tyrol City, and now sat in the waiting room of the castle palace awaiting an audience with the Count of Anorraq. 

“Ah, Viscount Elwynalam, what a pleasure to see you. I assume aside from the mishap right before you returned home that your mission went well?” the Count asked, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

“I suppose that depends on what you mean by ‘going well.’” The Count raised his eyebrows but made no response. 

“Your information was correct,” Geodor continued after a moment. “The Xiepvuians have constructed a rather substantial base on the far side of our moon. I have no idea how they managed to do it, though.”

“Well, that’s rather simple,” the Count responded. “It’s not as if we live in some sort of science fiction novel where every planet is inhabited by some strange-looking alien creature. Everyone in the solar system is a descendant of some human from Earth. Xiepvuians look just like us. I assume some of them or Samhis loyal to their money have probably assimilated on our planet and simply took a vacation to the moon to help work on it. As soon as it was up and going, they could have landed there directly.”

“I did find three people working at the moonstation who seem to be involved,” Geodor said, handing him three paper files and a memory stick. “Unfortunately, time ran out before I could do much more than scratch the surface of what was going on. I estimate they have been working on this for over a year.”

“The biggest question is why?” Anorraq mused aloud.

“I have nothing solid, but I am pretty certain they need minerals.”

“But Thelxinoe V-1398 doesn’t have any resources. We already determined a long time ago that mining any of our moons would be useless—hence the reason they were allowed to become tourist attractions.” 

“The base wasn’t set up for mining. It was an outpost. A place to gather troops before an invasion.” 

“You think they would dare to attack our planet directly?”

Geodor nodded. 

“I will let Emperor Grangschmidt know at once. Unfortunately, we can’t let the Sultan of Upsilon Andromedae and the Galactic Congress know until we have more solid proof.”

“There is one more thing I would like to discuss with you.”

“Go ahead.”

“When a person dies, I believe it is important to have a family, to carry on for them.”

“Really, Geodor? I didn’t expect you were the type of person to harass me about not being married.”

“I wasn’t talking about you. I want to find a wife. Almost dying up there made me realize that I have no one to take care of my sister if something happens to me.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to find a husband for her? Your lifestyle and positions are not exactly conducive to being entangled with someone.” 

“Like you, I have my own ideals. Although I may end up in an arranged marriage of convenience, I would never force my sister into one!” 

“Point taken. Find the girl and let us run the checks on her before you propose. The last thing we need is a fortune hunter getting ahold of you. It would be very difficult to keep all your secrets from your wife—even if it were only a marriage of convenience.” 

With that, both men parted—each deep in thought about the problems before him.

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The Viscount of La Soutain (5)

  5

Samh 9.04.1342 22:00

The apartments exclusively devoted to Jeanilotta and Abaledina—the daughter and niece of Lieutenant Gillfillian, were peculiar in their construction and arrangement, the result of genuine taste and unsparing wealth. In the center was a parlor common to both, small but elegant and convenient in structure. One wall of the parlor was made of glass triangles with a rectangular glass door in the center that led to the upper balcony where they could look down on the street below. 

A plush gray rug rivalling the richest velvet in beauty and softness was in the center of the dark gray rubber tile floor. Neon tube lights ran between some of the tiles and matched similar designs on the walls and between some of the triangular window frames. White, low, plush sofas and ottomans invited all entering to indolent and luxurious repose. 

Next to the entry door opposite the windowed wall was an ornamented gray fireplace with tiny lights in blue and pink accenting it. Upon both side of the beautifully carved electric fireplace were two immense mirrors outlined in the neon lights. Over it was a viewscreen.

The remaining two walls that connected the wall with the fireplace to the windowed wall were identical in look. One each light gray wall were three black sliding panels. One panel led to a small private den with a miniature library, collections of curiosities, beautiful and rare pictures, writing tables, and easy chair unique to each girl’s style and preferences. The window in this room was made of two triangles that shared a side. Under that was a window-box filled with fragrant and treasured exotic plants, giving the dens the highest degree to tranquility and mental enjoyment. 

The center sliding panel contained each girls’ bright, white bathroom with a vanity beneath a mirrored wall and large closet. On the other side of the bathroom, the last sliding panel concealed a sleeping room with a luxuriant queen-sized bed spread with silk and down comforters. Jeanilotta’s private room was decorated in yellow hues and Abaledina’s in violet. A sliding door on one wall of the bedroom allowed the girls direct access to their bathrooms. 

It was to her bedroom Abaledina retreated after bringing Jeanilotta her requested seltzer and medicine. She bade her maid to retire, and afterward, as was frequently her custom, she prepared herself for bed and seated herself for an hour's calm reflection at the bathroom vanity. Her figure was slight, her features regular, slightly rounded and singularly expressive of ingenuous frankness, strong intellectual power, moral greatness, and childlike simplicity. Her eyes were blue and wore that clear, calm, confiding look, which it would be so difficult to betray. Her hair was a rich, silky chestnut-color, and hung over her fair neck in the simple, natural, wavy ringlets of childhood. Despite her cherubic face, twenty summers had dawned upon her. Inwardly, the circumstances through which she had already lived had produced in her a maturity of thought and feeling belonging to greater years. 

As Abaledina re-entered her bedroom, she touched the button that closed the panel now open to the shared parlor, and it quickly concealed her from all intrusion. Then, climbing into her bed, she gazed long upon the yet unopened message from Eriath, as if by staring at it without opening she could discern its contents. At last, she clicked on it. 

Now and then tears of sorrow flowed sadly over each pale cheek. Then she would wipe them and resume reading:

“Do you remember, dearest, the day of our betrothal—when you, a little angel of twelve years, knelt with me beside my parents and your only surviving one—as your father prayed for our happiness after we fulfilled his last dying wish? Through our long separation, I have been constant to our pledge. Not a thought, not a wish, not a dream of my soul has been given to another, and I have reveled in an excess bliss when anticipating the hour that will place the happiness of my whole future life in your keeping.”

“I have closed my course of study. I enter the world as a man. Permit my hand and heart to be my first offering at the shrine I have so long worshipped. I am confident that in your gentle bosom there is neither the will nor the power to destroy my long-cherished hopes. Tomorrow I shall be with you to receive your confirmation of my wishes to set a near date to marry.” 

"Tomorrow" repeated she sadly, "so soon? Ah! Eriath, you know not what you ask.” With that, she pressed one small hand over her eyes as if to shutout the future. 

At this moment, the panel to her room slide open, and her aunt stood in the entrance before her. Pointing to her com-tab and smiling in a way that those who did not know the woman would presume was sweet and artless, she said, "This is my apology for disturbing you at so late an hour. I have but this moment been able to peruse mine, and I see by your face that yours must have shared the same fate.” 

Surprised and perplexed at how her aunt had discerned she had just read it, Abaledina replied, “Then you have received an intimation of—of—his intention to return?” 

“And of his desire for the immediate consummation of your father's last command," continued Mrs. Gillfillian. 

“My father did not command me," said Abaledina, gently but proudly.

“Pardon me, my dear," replied Mrs. Gillfillian almost condescendingly, “I only refer to your dying father’s last wish—your marriage to my son. Timidity, no doubt, prevents you from speaking with me freely, but you of course are faithful to your pledge and will appoint an early day for its fulfilment. My son expresses himself warmly." 

During this speech, Abaledina's resumed her usual serenity.

“Eriath is far too noble, too generous, and too confiding to be willfully deceived by me,” she said. “I respect and admire him, but I do not love him. Without that, my hand would be a worthless bauble.”

“But your pledge to your father as he was breathing his last—you surely will redeem that?" asked Mrs. Gillfillian.

As a child," the noble girl continued fearlessly, "I loved my cousin Eriath more than anything else, but it was with a pure sister's love. Time and a deeper knowledge of my own nature have since revealed this to me. I am aware that within me there is a slumbering fountain to which he has never spoken. I must remain free of marriage until I find the man who can awaken true love in me." 

A frown had gradually gathered over her aunt’s brow, and she began rubbing her fingers over it as the frown steeled. As soon as Abaledina finished, she shook her head and replastered a strained smile upon it. 

“You must be concealing something from me,” she began sweetly. “Is there some other attachment? Do not fear. You can trust me with your secret, my love. You know I would be the last person to urge you to fulfill this promise, sacred though it be, if that were the case. You know I would support you even though Eriath's future happiness and his very life, may depend upon your fulfillment your promise to marry him. Come; trust your secret with me.”

“I have already explained my feelings to you,” said Abaledina, not for an instant thrown off her guard by this insinuating address. "You well know that I have no other lover. Nothing prevents my acceptance of Eriath's offer but my exalted idea of true love. I am done talking on this subject. I shall frankly express my feelings to Eriath tomorrow. I have the confidence in both him and his honor. I have no doubt that he will voluntarily relinquish my hand because the hand does not come with my heart.”

“And what if he is not disinterested as you seem to assume,” pressed the proud woman with narrowed eyes. “What if he refuses to release you from your promise?”

Abaledina started. She had not conceived a possibility of this. “Then I will gladly and without guilt rid myself of the attentions of a man, who is neither noble nor great and who instead has no love in his heart and does not understand the value of love. But I know him better than you. He will, at my request, delay it a year or two, and in the meantime—"

“Yes! In the meantime, what will happen?” angrily demanded her aunt.

“There can be but two results. I shall begin loving him and decide to be his bride, or I shall never love him and attain the age when my person and property will be independent of the control of my uncle. If the latter occurs, I will be my own person," replied Abaledina. 

Mrs. Gillfillian was surprised and disconcerted. Abaledina could easily understand the shock. For the past eight years during her residence with them, she had been the pattern of submission and obedience. This was the first time she had ever tested her strength and firmness against her aunt. 

A dark shadow of evil jealousy flitted across her aunt’s face so quickly, Abaledina thought perhaps it was the dim light playing tricks on her eyes. It was replaced with that seemingly sweet and artless smile that her aunt had used when she originally approached her. 

Her aunt gracefully walked over to her, moved back the fair curls of her husband’s ward, and kissed her brow.

"Fear not,” she said almost lovingly, “all shall be as you wish. I could not find it in my heart to deny you anything. Eriath loves you so tenderly that you will not—you cannot resist the pleasure of returning it. Retire now, my love, and let him find fresh roses upon your cheeks tomorrow." 

The young girl spent time reflecting in solitude when once again left alone, after her panel slid shut. She could love—she was conscious of it—yet she knew she never had loved. Further, she was certain that Eriath was not going to be the man who revealed to her that one great source of life's joy and bitterness. Her only distress came from having to break so noble a heart since he apparently believed himself to be in love with her.

“Tomorrow!" she again repeated slowly and sadly as she pressed into her soft pillow and tried to forget with her dreams the bitter waking reality of her situation.

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The Viscount of La Soutain (4)

 4

Samh 9.04.1342 20:00

As the evening wore away with the Gillfillian household in a complete uproar, the little Swienzean clock in the girls’ parlor rang out in musical notes the hour of 20:00. Immediately after, there a slight bustle in the hall with rapid questions and answers, incoherent exclamations, and hurried footsteps up the stairway. Suddenly, the door burst open, and the same Theodomani, whom they were all mourning after reading the news article, stood there fully alive. His short, dirty blonde hair was tussled from travel, his black rimmed glasses kept slipping down his nose and revealing slate eyes above them. His build was between slim and muscular, and like his hair, his beige sweater vest was askew and his navy pants wrinkled. 

He sprang with one light bound to the side of the sofa where his still insensible fiancée lay, gulping forth air at short intervals between broken and stifling sobs. 

Forgetful of all ceremony, he wrapped her in his arms.

“Jeanilotta, dearest, it is I—Theodomani. What is ailing you?" he murmured as he wildly kissed her jet-black hair. There was a slight stir, and Jeanilotta’s eyes focused on this new arrival. The mental cloud began to disappear, and she gradually recognized and embraced her love. 

“But how?” she was finally able to articulate. “We thought you were dead. Tell me everything!” 

Abaledina concurred her cousin’s request and pulled an ottoman next to the sofa to better hear the tale.

“'Ah, yes!" replied Theodomani with a slight shudder. "It was a terrible moment. I don’t think I can explain its horrors well enough to make you understand the experience."

“Then it’s true that you drifted into space?" asked Jeanilotta feebly, her lips growing white. 

“True—yes—to an extent, my love. Surely, you see I am here in the flesh and not just a spirit?” 

After a pause, he continued, “It was entirely an accident. I had decided to get one last tour in the day we were to return home. Sadly, it ran late, making it necessary for all of us who took it to attempt exiting the hoverbus as quickly as possible so we would not miss the ship home. In the crush, I was shoved from behind, and my helmet bumped into the top of the doorframe, causing my head to bounce inside it. As you might expect, this knocked me out cold, and as I was told, I began floating into space with your name being the last thing on my lips. 

“I was led to understand that for some reason the emergency crew had difficulties with their gear, but Viscount Elwynalam, whom I have recently written you about, was able to retrieve me before any of them.

“When I awoke, I found him nearby and unconscious on the moonstation floor, attended by emergency personnel. Apparently, in his attempt to rescue me, the air he was using ran out. He almost lost his life to save mine. Using the most incredible exertions, he succeeded in reaching me at the last moment and bore me in his arms toward the moonstation, collapsing near enough for us to be easily rescued. 

“On the trip home, when I went to express my gratitude, he replied without the least excitement. ‘I need no thanks; the act was trifling. It will be a source of joy to me, and I shall no doubt find your life one worth preserving.’ He did not wait for any further gratefulness on my part and quickly left me.

“Ah, Jeanilotta! I am so impatient to introduce this man to you.” 

“Viscount Elwynalam!” Lieutenant Gillfillian exclaimed. “Had you so distinguished a passenger on the Antiby IV?”

“If he honors us with his friendship,” replied Theodomani, enthusiastically, “he is a man whom we can but receive and admire. His life is wrapped in profound mystery to me, though. There is no record of his past or birth that I could find, his servants never gossip, and he is perfectly impenetrable. 

“Is his lordship married or unmarried?” asked Mrs. Gillfillian with true womanly curiosity. 

“It is impossible to say," replied Theodomani. “The child he was with seemed much too old to be his natural child, but perhaps a little young to be his wife.”  

“We must seek his acquaintance; it will make a brilliant connection for us." 

Abaledina was puzzled by the almost wicked gleam she caught in her aunt’s eye as it gazed at Jeanilotta. 

“We will seek his friendship for its own sake," her husband replied. "At the least, we must thank him fervently for so nobly risking his life for a stranger because that stranger is so dear to us.”

“You are absolutely right,” his wife cooed. “We must throw a ball in celebration of Theodomani’s safe return and honor Lord Elwynalam for saving him. Propriety demands it!” 

“You may be correct, my dear. I trust I can leave the planning of it to you?” 

“Of course!”

* * * * * *

As the night grew late, Theodomani left. The servants and Gillfillians returned to their own quarters, and the cousins performed their evening toilette. Opening the sliding doors for the night, revealed two bedroom nooks behind them—one for each girl to have some privacy while still sharing the space. 

“I am still not quite feeling myself,” Jeanilotta complained as she collapsed dramatically on the bed. “Abaledina, would you mind being a dear and getting me something for my head and some of the seltzer water from the kitchen to ease my stomach?”

“Of course,” the younger replied. 

On her return, she passed the drawing room and despite the late hour heard voices through the slightly ajar door. 

“He is to be our guest of honor. I am sure that he is unmarried.” There was a pause and then the voice resumed, “It is such a shame that Jeanilotta is betrothed already.”

At this, Abaledina stopped in her tracks and frowned. 

“Although Theodomani is from possibly one of the richest families in the city,” the voice continued, “he has absolutely no title. Since he is only from a family of entertainers, he has no chance to ever obtain one. It’s not quite the match I had hoped for, but Jeanilotta is young and believes her heart matters in these things.” 

Abaledina blushed and hurried on her way, but she was unable to determine whether the blush was the result of her realizing the impropriety of her eavesdropping or embarrassment over her aunt’s shallowness.      

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