Tales after Dusk 05

Watching him curiously, she offers a small smile to encourage him to continue, "You would be correct in that assumption."

He takes a deep breath, "Yes, I was afraid that I would be. That means that by joining me tonight, you would have to find some enjoyment in my company. But I am not entirely sure that is certain, either." He looks back at her, trying to see beyond her eyes and into her mind.

Alecta doesn't let her gaze wavier, "You sell yourself short, Edmond. Is it because of my title, that you would think I wouldn't be interested in you?"

"To be honest, my lady, yes. I suppose now that my sister will be the Princess, it will offer me a bit more standing but beyond that my prospects are limited." His face looks perplexed, almost as if he is beginning to question her motives.

She laughs a little, sipping from her glass. Delicately resting her hand on his arm, she leans in and speaks softly so that no one else can hear, "What are prospects but bits of paper and bars of metal? What is a title but a righteous way of demanding others to address you? I have met more society types than you can imagine; I have met a Duchess whom was so oblivious to life that she couldn't find her way out of a bathtub and an Earl so poor that I paid for his meal. Yes, Edmond, you do not have a title and you don't have a lot of prospects but actions speak louder than entitlement. If you behave with class, you will be treated as such." The words flow freely, easily from her lips as she doesn't have to lie about any of it.

He is taken aback at first, with how lively she speaks those words but one look into her eyes and he is ensnared by her. Regaining his confidence, he flashes her a brilliant smile, "You truly are one of a kind, Countess. The stories you must have."

She laughs, "There aren't enough hours in the year, dear Mr. Carden."

Edmond introduces Alecta to several of his younger sisters, all eager to meet her. As they mingle for the better part of the hour before dinner, Alecta spots one man in particular who keeps his eyes on her but never comes near. He is an older man, rather handsome despite his age. With deep, perplexed eyes and dark hair, she guesses him to be a relation to the crown. Though he carries a cane in an attempt at a wardrobe statement, she quickly detects the mild limp in his gait. Finding it odd that he takes such care to cover his steps, Alecta focuses on watching him throughout the night.

There are several guests in attendance and with Talia's large family, seating is somewhat of a disaster. Alecta is fortunate enough to sit next to Edmond, and though they are at the opposite end of the table from the King and Queen, she is only across the table and down two chairs from the curious man. Something about him strikes her as odd. When he turns to converse with the Prince, Alecta finally gets a good look at his face. There is a distinct, smooth line just below his jaw; she recognizes it immediately as that of an amateur make up job. When she looks at his hair, she discovers a small black dot just at the tip of his ear, suggesting that the darkness of the color is the result of dye.

Returning her attention back to Edmond, she ponders on the man for a while before dismissing it. She can hardly fault him for altering his appearance—it is something she does almost every day. In her travels she has met many a vain man, each one going to the extreme to avoid aging, yet she wonders why he doesn't hire someone who knows what they are doing to assist him.

Edmond is a charming man; she finds it peculiar that he hasn't found himself a bride. She wonders if his personality demands a more sophisticated woman, one who is beyond his everyday reach. If he had a title, there is no doubt in her mind that he would have been married by now. While she vaguely listens to one of Philip Carden's stories, she allows herself a brief moment to ponder her own prospects. Edmond would make a decent companion, he is suave, educated and without a title he doesn't have the arrogance to prevent her from considering him as a potential mate. Yet she knows, deep down, that after Thorne marries Talia, it would be impossible for her to have any minute connection to Briartown. As Basil's story about the Countess Montage begins to haunt her, she wonders even if she were to stomach marrying Thorne's brother-in-law, would Edmond ever be able to forgive her the lies she has perpetrated? Their relationship is built on a faulty foundation and she doubts that anyone would be able to accept her for who she is. As the evening continues, she begins to retreat inward, becoming less and less sociable. Though she wants to return to her room to sulk in silence, she is forced to keep herself together to make it through the night.

After desert, she puts on her best airs and politely declines the invitation to join the party in the drawing room. When Edmond questions her, she plasters a tired smile on her face, "Please, don't let me keep you from joining your family. This has been a wonderful night but I fear it has been too much excitement for me. I think I shall turn in early."

Eyeing her curiously, he holds his hand out to her, "Then I insist upon seeing you back to your room. I could never forgive myself if you were too exhausted to make it there."

Alecta tries to think up of an argument but her mind doesn't respond quickly enough. With a tight smile, she accepts his hand.

The cool night air offers a refreshing change from the stuffiness of the crowded room. When Edmond walks her out of the castle entrance, he hesitates and leads her to a bench just beyond the walk path, the same bench that she sat upon only days earlier, when she watched two guards throw Thorne out of the castle.

Though Alecta wants to get back to her room, she is forced to follow her escort. She perches delicately on the edge, using all of her remaining energy to keep up her façade. Edmond sits next to her; he seems nervous. "Countess, have I done something to...offend you?" He says quietly.

"No, Mr. Carden, why would you ask that?"

"It is just that as the night progressed, you seemed rather...distant. I apologize if it was something I said, or if I was being to forward—"

Alecta cuts him off, "Edmond, it is not you. I think my travels have finally caught up with me. Weddings have an odd way of...reminding me just how alone I truly am." As her façade starts cracking, she is unable to predicate much of a lie to cover her behavior.

He pauses briefly, before reaching out and taking her hand into his, "I hope I am not overstepping my bounds but I find that with each moment I spend with you, I want another, and another. I know I am no one of importance but..."

When she looks at him, she sees it—the same thing she has seen time and time again, in the eyes of a man—desire, need, not merely fleeting but a longing for something more permanent. How she wishes she could return the sentiment. Everything would be much easier if she could.

"You are a wonderful man, Edmond," she says sincerely. She locks onto his gaze and leans in. Gently, her lips touch his. He kisses her back, tenderly. Just one more day, she tells herself, just keep this up for one more day. Then she will leave, as she has dozens of times before—leave him with the memory of the perfect woman who slipped from his fingertips.

He pulls back, taking a deep breath. Still holding her hand, his face merely inches away from hers, he almost whispers, "But there is someone else."

Alecta's brows crinkle, "I don't understand—"

Edmond smiles softly, sitting back away from her and letting her hand go, "It makes sense now. I have seen the way he looks at you."

Her face is blank and she waits in silence for him to continue.

"It shouldn't be frowned upon; he is just your cousin, it isn't like he is your brother," he says, looking back at her, "it might be a little taboo but no more than the idea of a Countess marrying a commoner."

Alecta laughs at the irony of it all; taking his hand back into hers, she smiles, "Oh Edmond, you truly are...insightful," in an instant, her armor reappears out of sheer necessity and she lays the act on thick, "insightful but incorrect. While I must agree that the Baron perhaps finds me more appealing than a mere cousin, his feelings are not reciprocated."

Even in the darkness, Edmond's face begins to glow red, "Countess—I am truly sorry, I thought that...I didn't mean to imply—"

"It is quite all right, Mr. Carden. It is I that must apologize for my behavior earlier. I have to admit that I am not entirely comfortable around that many people of high merit. It is selfish of me, I know but I prefer to be the bright light in the room, if you understand my turn a phrase."

"Believe me, my lady, despite my sister's achievement, all eyes were focused on you. There is something about you that demands everyone's attention. I must confess that I feel truly honored for you have shown me as much consideration as you have."

It occurs to Alecta that a quiet life of nothingness after all of this has blown over just might not be an option. While it would be a life perpetuating a lie to continue living as the Countess, she has spent so much of her life lying that she isn't sure if she knows who she truly is. Alecta places her hand on Edmond's chest, slowly leaning forward once more, "I would be lying if I said I didn't come here to find a husband," their lips meet; this time it is a little more familiar, and Edmond gently places his hand under her chin, wanting more but forcing himself to refrain.

When the kiss finally breaks, she remains close to him, staring into his eyes. She smiles, dropping her chin to her chest, "Now it is I that is being too forward." Rising to her feet, she intentionally sways a little. Edmond jumps up to help her, gripping her elbow to support her weight.

"Are you all right, Countess?" His voice is thick with concern.

"Yes, Mr. Carden, I just...really need to get some rest. Would you mind?"

"Of course not," he smiles and wraps her arm around his, keeping her a little closer than before as he walks her across the street.

She cannot tell if it is out of concern for her condition, or out of desire to be closer. Forcing her feet one step in front of the other, she drags herself up the stairs and to her door.

"Shall I see you inside?" He says softly, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Alecta smiles wryly, "Mr. Carden," she drifts towards him, letting their lips connect once more, "Good things come to those that wait," she whispers.

His hand drifts up to her chin, brushing it affectionately, "Then I shall wait for you, as long as it takes." Lingering a moment, he appraises her again, before offering a short bow, "Good night, Countess."

"Good night, Mr. Carden."

...

Alecta shuts her door, leaning forward to rest her forehead against the cold wood. It is only a few seconds of solace before she realizes she isn't alone. Drawing in a deep breath, she turns and strolls over to the seating area, where Basil has a glass of brandy waiting for her.

She downs it, seeing the rest of the troupe through the bottom of the empty glass; Kane, Jasper and Aiken sit to her right, Basil to her left, while Thorne lingers awkwardly near the fireplace.

"Let's keep this short, gents, I am very tired. Dealing with those people drained me of all of my patience," her voice is a little sharp.

"Very well then—the Desert Rose?" Jasper says, paper in hand.

"Delivered successfully," Kane says for Alecta.

"And how was your evening otherwise? Any news?" Basil says, curiously.

Alecta flops down on the couch next to him, "Despite having found his true love, the faux Prince has a wandering eye. The King clearly doesn't approve of Talia or her family, even Edmond surprisingly enough. And everyone seems to think that my involvement with Edmond is merely a ploy to get in good with the crown."

Aiken laughs, rising from his seat, "Well it is, isn't it?"

The others join in, each getting up and heading towards the door. Thorne, the last in line, hesitates as he passes her.

"Are you coming, Thorne?" Kane says from the door, "We are going to the tavern. If that pleases you, Baron."

"Go, have a good time," Alecta whispers, "I will still be here when you return."

Though he doesn't want to, he cannot see a way to break from the group without it being obvious. He gives her a soft smile, "Good night, Alecta."

"Good night, Thorne," she says, watching him leave with the others.

The men have more stamina than Thorne, or perhaps less to look forward to when they return to their rooms. He bids them good night, even though it is so late that it can almost be called early. He waits in his room, ear pressed to his door, straining to hear every footstep dissipate, until finally a silence falls over the house. He takes care, this time, to remove his shoes before he creeps down the hallway to Alecta's room. With his hand on the knob, he turns it slowly, only to discover that it doesn't move. Thorne tries again, until he realizes that her door is locked. She does not wish his company tonight.

...

The morning of the ball is tedious. Breakfast was rather dull, as Alecta sent Kane down to tell everyone that she isn't feeling quite herself and has decided to spend the morning resting after she has a long bath.

Edmond is clearly disappointed, though Thorne is worried. When the others are engaged in a conversation, he whispers to Basil, "What is going on? Is she all right?"

Basil laughs a little, pretending that Thorne had just told a joke, "She will be fine. I am sure she'll join us this afternoon. I don't think you quite understand the amount of will power and effort it takes to keep up such a charade as well as she does. As she has been working several angles, she hasn't had much time to rest. I am sure she is simply exhausted."

After breakfast, Edmond excuses himself before all others. Thorne knows exactly where he is going; he waits until none are paying attention before he slips out of the room, trailing behind so as not to be seen.

He pauses at the top of the stairs, just around the corner from Alecta's room. There is a knock; Thorne lists to the right so that he can see Edmond standing at the door. Though he tries to assure himself that he is being silly, he suddenly feels very worried that she will appear for Edmond.

"Countess?" He calls softly, "It is I, Edmond Carden."

Thorne can feel his face begin to burn red with anger when he hears footsteps heading to the door; there is a soft click and it opens slightly.

"I am sorry, Mr. Carden," the sweet voice of the lady servant comes drifting out of the crack, "But I must ask you to leave. The Countess is indisposed at the moment. She sends her regrets that she could not join you and the others for breakfast but she says that she will rejoin all at the ball tonight."

He sighs, disappointed, "Is she all right? Shall I fetch a doctor?"

The servant smiles quaintly, "Good bye, Mr. Carden," before she shuts the door and locks it.

As Edmond stands dejected, Thorne's own heart continues to pound as he tries to calm himself down. He draws in a deep breath; when he hears the footsteps of the others leaving the dining room downstairs, he rounds the corner to head to his room.

"Ah, Baron," Edmond says upon seeing him, "how are you this morning?"

Thorne nods slightly, looking at the seemingly tired, dejected man and for a moment, he has pity for him. He knows all too well the agony that Alecta can cause, "I am fine. You seem a bit tired, Mr. Carden. Did you not sleep well last night?"

Edmond laughs slightly, "No, I am afraid not. Your cousin, is she ill?"

He takes care to remove all worry from his own voice; instead he smiles, "I highly doubt it. The Countess has a knack for the dramatic. I suspect it is her way of keeping us all in suspense."

"She is quite the woman," Edmond smiles, though he doesn't look any less relieved.

"Indeed. Perhaps you too should use this time to rest up before the ball."

"I think I shall," and with a small bow, Edmond wanders down the hallway.

Thorne paces in his room. He tries to sleep but it is no use. No matter what he does, his thoughts are drawn back to Alecta. He wants to go to her, however she was very smart in asking the lady servant to attend to her, as it makes it impossible for any of them to get near her. Time ticks by very, very slowly.

After what seems to be an eternity, there is a knock on the door. He quickly opens it, only to be disappointed by seeing Jasper on the other side.

"Care to join the Count for some lunch, Sir?" He asks casually, before turning and heading to Basil's room. Thorne eagerly follows, hoping that Alecta will be there.

Kane, Basil and Aiken sit around the small table in between the sofas, eating cold meat, cheese and bread off of several platters. They are joined by Jasper and Thorne but Alecta is nowhere to be found.

"We have about two hours," Jasper says, heaping some meat onto a slice of bread, "That will give us enough time to eat, dress and meet in Alecta's room to go over everything one last time."

"Is this normal, for her?" Thorne asks casually, picking at the cheese in his hand.

Everyone pauses. "No," Kane says slowly, as if he is regretting thinking about it, "but it has occurred before. Particularly when she is nervous about something." He says it in a way that projects worry about how the events of the evening will unfold.

Lunch continues more or less in silence. Afterwards, everyone dresses. Kane helps Thorne with his frocks, making sure that everything is perfect. As he stands in front of the mirror, he can't help but think that the deep green is a remarkable color on him and once again his thoughts drift back to Alecta.

When he sees Basil, he is truly impressed as well; dressed in a royal blue waist coat, he seems a bit more flashy than usual, yet it fits him well.

The troupe makes their way to Alecta's room. Kane knocks softly on the door; he waits for the sounds of the female servant to come but when they don't he checks the knob. Finding it unlocked, the group takes a quick survey of the hall to ensure they are alone before entering her room.

She stands at the window, watching the action about the castle. In a vibrant purple, with her hair in perfect curls down her back, she turns to see her companions. The dress cuts in at the waist, accentuating her curves before flowing down to the ground. As promised, there is an ample amount of cleavage mounded on her chest, bordering the line between scandalous and obscene.

Kane walks to her first, extending his hand towards her. Thorne watches the two curiously while he follows the rest of the group who go to sit down before the fireplace.

"How are you feeling?" Kane whispers softly, "Do you need something? A tonic? A pain reliever?"

She smiles at him, "Perhaps just a drink."

He pauses, giving her a good look over before he is convinced she tells the truth, "I'll second that."

As they rejoin the group, Basil does her a favor by blowing over her absence, "Alecta, darling, don't you look stunning. Aren't you a little worried, though, that the smallest amount of movement will free your...assets?"

She laughs, taking a glass of bourbon from Jasper, "I was but Jamie—the servant—assisted me with dressing. I am pretty sure nothing will be getting out—or into—this dress. In fact," she says as she sits down stiffly, "the tailor seemed to take such thorough measurements that I am pretty sure I will have to be cut out of it."

Everyone joins in the laughter but Thorne. Though the others are so quick to ignore her behavior, he worries that she is trying to separate herself from him, to ease the pain of their pending departure. He watches her intently for the next hour but she takes care to avoid meeting his gaze.