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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.
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