Chronicler

A little bit of revelation

As she made her way down from the long flight of stairs at the back of the library that Sunday morning Renee wondered whether Ferdinand would wait for her where he said he would. The sky looked rather gray and cloudy and showed signs of rain which might fall sometime in the afternoon, probably when they were on their way back to the library she thought. Renee had looked forward to going to the village fair the whole week and even her impression of Ferdinand had softened a little. He might be somewhat concerned to invite her to come with him she thought rather uncertainly. Or more likely he could have tricked her too she thought as she stood on the steps near the back door; he could have played a trick on him for the sham trick she unknowingly played on him the first time they met in the park.

He came along presently; on a small wagon with two beautiful black horses with the thickest of manes Renee had ever seen and a jaunty smile on his face.

“What? Up with sun and waiting for me already Cherie? You are punctual lass.”

“A pity you have failed to follow my good example monsieur.” Replied Renee as she climbed in to the wagon beside him ignoring the hand he held out to her.

“Ah! Renee, you are displeased with me again aren’t you lass? I am to be pitied, I displease you with the mere sight of my poor self” replied Ferdinand bowing his head so as to hide his grin.

“Ah! But what can I say monsieur? You have never been more correct. You are very astute.”

“Who taught you retort with such…ah…gentleness mademoiselle?”

“And I might as well ask who taught you to encourage such provoking conversation on your part?”

“Ah! Cherie, I give up I cannot control these horses and carry on this exceedingly pleasant conversation at the same time” replied Ferdinand as the cantered off.

“A wise choice.” She speculated quietly, a wry smile on her full lips.

They drove quietly for sometime after they had left the bustling city and Renee was glad for it, she was almost overjoyed to be riding down a narrow country lane in a simple wagon smelling the sweet smell of wet sand and listening to the chirping of the birds on nearby trees. They weren’t far from Paris and there were indeed many influences from the town lingering in the village they were passing right now. Renee did not mind this though, she was grateful that she could see the trees and the meadows with tiny cottages scattered across them, it felt like the country even if it was only a few miles from the city.

“How far is it to the fair?” she asked Ferdinand who was trying his utmost to bring the horses to trot at a mild pace.

“A few minutes more Cherie and we will be there, they usually have it in the fields behind that church over yonder.”

“Ah! Monsieur Ferdinand, you are poor at controlling these ponies” commented Renee with mock severity gesturing to the rather impatient animals.

“My dear child” replied Ferdinand in tones one would have used for a half witted person; “These are not called ponies, they are fully grown horses; aye and strong ones at that, did you ever suppose I would own timid, shy ponies to drive this wagon?” he asked his face contorted in to mock horror.

“Oh no! Surely not!” She replied smiling archly at him.

Ferdinand was delighted to find out that the proud beautiful girl liked the jocular banter they had been pursuing.

The fair was in full swing when they reached the field; Renee clasped her hands together with delight, her eyes shining with wonder and reminiscent memories. Ferdinand looking sideways at her at that moment grinned and puffed out his chest pompously as he helped her down the wagon noting that she accepted his help this time. The whole field was almost occupied and men, women, children, cattle and poultry. Sounds of talking, laughing, singing, mooing, braying and cackling filled the air, one side of the field was lined with tables with white linen table cloths spread on them and dishes, bottles and pots of farm made food for sale. The wafting smell of slabs of thick cheese and freshly baked bread filled the air and Renee sniffed at it hungrily realizing almost immediately that she had left without any breakfast.

Ferdinand threw the reins to a stable boy who stood nearby and hurried to join Renee who was already threading her way in to the crowd. Lilting strains of country music could be heard in the distance and Renee who had her mind set on breakfast hurried to the tables and got herself a little of almost everything and headed to a patch of clear grass beneath some trees when she was joined by Ferdinand with two mugs of steaming coffee and quip on his jaunty smiling lips.

“I can see that you are extremely hungry mademoiselle,” he observed, glancing at the food she had spread on the shawl which had been around her shoulders just moments ago now spread on the soft green grass.

“You are very welcome to have breakfast but only if you behave monsieur” she replied wagging a finger his way and shaking her head.

“Now that is easy” he replied grinning as he sat down next to her cross legged like a Turk “All I have to do is behave as I did before, I pride my self with the knowledge that I’m an exceedingly well behaved person!”

Renee snorted in reply as she took a bite off a slice of crispy, warm bread.

Renee was glad she had come to the fair. Ferdinand proved to be quite an interesting and pleasant companion today she thought with mild surprise, he helped her to move around the crowded field and introduced her to people he knew making her feel more at home and for this she was grateful to him and her opinion of him underwent a rapid change and softened considerably. All too soon it was time to head back to Paris and Renee was loath to go back after such an enjoyable morning. She waved at the few people she had been introduced as Ferdinand slapped the reins and they started off on their drive back to the city.

“Did you grow up in this village?” asked Renee suddenly curious about her companion.

“No, I was born in Calais.” He replied briefly and remained silent. Renee had the feeling that he did not fancy the topic she had begun and that made her even more curious.

“Oh! It must have been wonderful living close to where you see the vast oceans!” she remarked.

“Some might say so Cherie, I did not have any such notion on my mind however at that time; I did not like living in Calais.”

“And why is that? You do not like coastal towns in general?” asked Renee.

“My mother and I-” he paused glancing at the setting sun in the distance and continued; “My mother and I lived with my father in Calais, my mother who would have been very young at that time spent many days waiting by the quayside for the ships that brought my father back to us and the days that he was with us she spent in slaving for him, trying to please him and the nights crying in misery and pain from the wounds on her back that were the results of my father’s drunkenness. For this reason I detest the town Cherie, I tend to connect the town with my rather unpleasant childhood.”

Renee looked at the man who would have once been a scared boy, looking at his young mother with concern as she wept her heart out, a young boy with scared eyes scanning his mother’s face…

She sighed wondering why women had to almost always face the hardships in life and why they never stood up and demanded for their right to live as freely and as independently as men, why they never even raised so much as their voices to the hardships they face just for the mere reason that they were women and physically weak. She touched his arm gently looking up at his eyes with understanding as she replied;

“I’m sorry monsieur Ferdinand, for what happened to your mother and I’m sorry I had been the means of your recalling those bad memories after such a pleasant day, please forgive me for my tactlessness monsieur.”

He shook his head smiling slowly down at her another quip at the ready;

“Alas! Am I finally taking leave of my senses Cherie? Or did you just apologize to me for something?”

“For shame monsieur! What kind of person do you think I am?” she replied laughing at his unexpected reply.

“A happy girl with blooming cheeks and a basket of freshly baked bread on her lap.” He replied promptly without any hesitation hoping to aggravate her even more.

Renee shook her head still laughing at his meaningless banter and sighed as they entered the streets of Paris once more.

“So now I can for sure predict that you would never even consider becoming a sailor surmising that your father was one.” Renee remarked hoping to make light of the conversation they had had before.

“Ah! But you are wrong Cherie, I sailed once on a ship to the Indies and I must say I love sailing on the high seas, the ship also happened to be one of the ships my father had worked in last before he died and the crew called me ‘Joseph’ by way of acknowledging that I, in choosing to sail with them am truly my father’s son. Joseph was my father’s name by the way.”

Renee looked up swiftly alarm in her eyes; Joseph…and did not that name seem familiar? A face she could connect with the name, a face of a man on a cold windy night…but where? She could not fathom.

They had reached the library by then and Ferdinand stopped a little away from the building, Renee who had been lost in thought did not even notice that the wagon had stopped moving and was brought back from her trance when Ferdinand called out to her;

“Is anything wrong Cherie?”

“No…nothing at all” she replied absently as she got off and started walking towards the library dazedly, forgetting entirely that she hadn’t even thanked Ferdinand who sat rather baffled on the wagon watching her walk away.

Posted by chronicler at 1:43 AM | 2 comments  

Labels: Her anamnesis

The white mouse

She stood on the balcony in her room. It was just fifteen minutes before midnight; it was unusually warm for a spring night and Renee felt restless and she could not sleep. The sky above the tiled roofs looked so vast and clear; like a big navy blue blanket. Stars winked in between and wispy, thin clouds lay scattered across the night sky. Renee sighed, thinking of the times she used to look at the sky like this back in the village. She remembered the times she used to sit on the fence just gazing up at the stars, wondering what the world looked like from above. Now she realized grimly that she would give anything to be back at home again. Home; where the tall grass in the fields and the leaves on the trees rustled making sweet music to her ears as the cooling breeze of the night blew. She closed her eyes just imagining for a moment that she was outside the front door of the cottage, her arms spread out wide, feeling the cool breeze caress her face gently, the rustling of the leaves in the distance, the occasional hoot of an owl and moonlight. Yes, moonlight lighting up the tiny little garden, giving it an almost ethereal look.

Now moonlight streamed in to her room through the casement windows, it spilled on to the cobbled streets where the occasional rattle of horse hooves from carriages passing by were heard. Rue de Richelieu looked beautiful at night. Lamps were lit on every doorstep; the park looked magical, lit by moonlight and the long street lamps that were around the park. Fine carriages driven by well groomed horses clattered past every now and then. Renee sighed; Paris looked so beautiful, so majestic, so sophisticated and very different from the tiny little village she grew up in. Its just homesickness she thought to herself, she was going to settle down soon enough and she did have work that she loved to do, did she not? Everything was going well for her, she had something to do and Madame Gregoire was the dearest and kindest of people. She would settle down eventually she thought.

She looked down; the cobbled street looked shiny in the moonlight and only a few people still lingered below. Suddenly, she felt as if she was being watched and quietly tried to withdraw back to her room behind the curtains without being noticed when someone from below called out;

“Mademoiselle Renee!”

She knew she had been spotted for sure and peered down trying to spot the person who had called her.

Adrien was standing in the now empty courtyard of the library in a brown, extremely fashionable coat putting on a pair of gloves, his blond head glinting in the moonlight.

Renee suddenly felt warmer than she usually did; she drew her knitted cloak about her white nightgown and smiled back.

“Good evening my lord.”

He now seemed at a loss for words; she looked divine in the moonlight he thought.

“I…I was wondering whether the library would be open at this time, I had left a book that I wanted to read. I’m so sorry to disturb you mademoiselle, I shall come tomorrow, Good night!”

And with an awkward wave he walked briskly away before Renee could reply that she could send a maid downstairs with the book. She felt that it was odd of the young marquis to come to the library at this time of the night. Surely the gentry surely had other amusements in the nights than reading she thought, confused.

Adrien smiled sheepishly thinking of the foolish reason behind his visit as he walked back to his horse near the gates. He had just wanted to see the young beauty once more and he could not help thinking how beautiful she was tonight; she looked like a Goddess in the moonlight.

Madame Gregoire rushed past maids carrying tall piles of books, past Renee who had her head bent, ticking a long list of titles, past quite a number of visitors and group of small children who had come with their tutors and in to the reading room right at the back of the library. She had plans to re arrange and furnish the room with the grandest of shelves, tables and chairs because the room had one of the most sort after volumes in the country including old journals of the ancestors of France’s oldest families.

She opened the old oaken door and paused at the entrance smiling to herself, Renee had done her work well she thought proudly. Gone were the old crates and boxes and gone were the gloomy navy blue curtains; the room was flooded with sunlight now and it looked more airy and spacious. Madame Gregoire mentally noted that the room needed rather low shelves she thought. The tall, towering ones in the main rooms wouldn’t do. She also mentally noted that the room needed curtains; crimson ones. Yes. Crimson curtains would be perfect she thought.

Madame Gregoire entered the room quietly and started to go through the titles of a pile of books on one of the tables when a tiny squeaking noise brought her head up sharply from her work. A tiny white mouse looked up at her from the carpeted floor.

Madame Gregoire, whose fear of rodents widely known by the maids and workmen in library didn’t think twice, she did what she was used to doing; she screamed and ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

Renee who was on her way to the reading nearly got knocked over by a terrified, white-faced Madame Gregoire who was running on light booted feet holding her skirts.

“Renee dear! Get that rat in the reading room out of my sight! Out of this library; immediately!”

And she was off again, running in search of a maid.

Renee shook her head and chuckled as she turned around and made her way in to the room. A few books were scattered on the floor and a tiny little ball of white fur sat on top of the pile, sniffing the old, dusty covers curiously. It was a small dormouse thought Renee amusedly and so different from the dirty street rat that she had expected. She looked at the tiny animal with some pity; the maids would surely kill the poor thing with one blow from a broom and somehow Renee who had a soft spot for all tiny helpless little animals could not simply bear the thought of the little thing being killed so cruelly. Renee knew that she’d have to get rid of the mouse, she could always set it free on the road or in the park but she was loath to let it go. She felt like she had finally found a friend in this tiny animal, the mouse and she had formed a bond she thought wryly smiling to herself.

Adrien walked in to the room just as Renee bent down near the pile of books on the floor. He was goaded with tales of a fearsome rat by a frightened Madame Gregoire as soon as he entered the library and Renee, “that brave girl” as described by Madame Gregoire had gone to the room to eliminate the rodent. “That brave girl” was doing nothing of the sort, as far as he could see she had in fact, been doing the exact opposite and trying to make friends with the mouse he thought amusedly. He coughed slightly to gain her attention and asked humouredly;

“Making peace with the enemy Mademoiselle?”

Renee turned around blushing a deep rosy red, “I was under strict orders to take it away from the building my lord.”

“The little thing looks rather harmless to me though” he observed, scratching his chin.

“Yes he does indeed!” agreed Renee hurriedly. Adrien could sense the reluctance in her voice.

“Ah! Leave it to me Mademoiselle!” He replied good naturedly, “I will make sure it is away from here and safe of course.”

“Why thank you my lord”, she replied relieved and hurriedly left the room after bobbing a quick curtsey.

As Renee entered her room that night, she spotted a batch of letters and a neat white package tied with pink ribbon on top her desk. The thick letters in fat brown envelopes were obviously from mama Giselle, Elise and Madame Pierre but at the moment Renee was too taken up with the white package. She untied the ribbon and gently pried off the lid which was pierced with tiny holes.

The little white mouse scampered out meekly; its glossy, white, furry neck now had a pink ribbon tied to it. At the bottom of the box lay a note:

“I felt that this would be the safest place for your little friend. You seemed reluctant to set it free and I thought that you might like it keep it. Consider this as a gift from me; I’m greatly indebted to you for your kind assistance in the library. Adrien”

Posted by chronicler at 7:21 AM | 2 comments  

Labels: Her anamnesis

A not too respectable friend

She wondered silently whether he would take her by surprise every time they met. He seemed to watch all her movements; he was in fact following her around, spying on her. But surprisingly she did not feel the least bit alarmed. She merely felt annoyed…very annoyed.

“You look worn out Cherie” he drawled, one booted foot crossed over the other, one broad shoulder propped against a bookshelf. He looked so confident and pleased with himself with that smirk on his face, thought Renee angrily. As if she would quake with fear every time she saw him, as if she would be pleased to meet him again, as if she would be intrigued and curious as to who he was. She felt nothing but annoyance and contempt towards him! The nerve of him!

“How clever of you to notice” snapped Renee as she unceremoniously stood up and started to vigorously dust her skirts “I did not give you leave to address me by endearments”.

Ferdinand smiled at that which further aggravated Renee’s temper. He watched her as she ruthlessly slapped her skirts in an attempt to shake of the dust, her eyes cast down, and her face slowly regaining its rosy pink. Why had she looked so pale? He was worried he knew, but he would have kicked himself before he accepted that fact. He liked to think that he was only mildly curious. This girl did intrigue him.

“Did the old ghosts here scare you my sweet?” He enquired lazily, his eyes running from the top of her neat little chignon to the tips of her black boots.

“Not all all!” She replied haughtily as she started to collect the books she had left on the table, “They have been my great friends since I arrived here, and now if you will excuse me I will take your leave as I have lots of work to do!” She snapped and would have opened the door and slammed it behind her had not Ferdinand suddenly strode smoothly to the door and blocked her way.

“Oh no! Cherie, surely you are not leaving so soon are you? We have met three times and have not been properly introduced have we?”

“Oh yes we have” she replied sarcastically “or have you forgotten our meeting in the park?”

“Well, that was different Cherie, we weren’t properly introduced; the circumstances we met in were rather…ah…unconventional.”

“What makes us meeting like this conventional monsieur?” enquired Renee quite flushed in the face and losing her patience.

“Why nothing at all Cherie, you surely do not think there is anything conventional about me do you?” replied Ferdinand with mock horror. “Surely I did not do anything to give you the impression that I’m a gentleman?”

He looked so comically horrified at the thought that Renee could not help but smile a little. Some of her anger had started to ebb away.

“Not the least” she agreed hurriedly. “You were always the veriest image of a rogue I assure you” she replied in mock solemnity.

He chuckled “So tell me Cherie, what brings you here?”

“I do not know what you mean monsieur” she replied rather confused.

“Here, to Paris; you come here carrying nothing but a leather pouch of soft sand from a field probably, you lock yourself up in empty rooms looking pale, you sit in the park staring in to space dreaming away, what are you doing here Cherie? You don’t belong in fashionable Paris, you belong somewhere else; the place you are dreaming of.”

Renee was completely taken aback by what Ferdinand said. He said the very things that she had been trying to not admit to herself all these weeks. He told it to her face and it made her realize once again how helpless she was, how alone and how she longed to go back home. She sighed and hung her head as if in defeat and once again looked up as if in defiance.

“Why I am here and what I do is no concern of yours” she replied coldly and continued; “I came here for the same purpose many people come here for and that is to work monsieur, I pride myself with the knowledge that I am earning an honest living.”

Ferdinand smiled at that once again, the lass had wit too he thought with a hint of pride.”Ah Cherie! That hurts” he said “you do not understand the true nature of my work; I pride my self with the knowledge that I am a professional thief and not just any common pickpocket you meet on the street.”

“Ah! That is a wonderful accomplishment sir!” she mocked.

“I know, it is my lady” he replied with her tone and grinned. “Come Cherie, let us not battle with words anymore and let us be friends.” And he offered his hand.

“And what makes you think that I am in dire need of your friendship?” asked Renee with scorn.

“Being my friend gives you quite a lot of privileges.” He replied smiling again.

“If it is my possessions that are in the risk of being stolen by you again I think I’d rather endure my lonely existence here without your friendship.” She replied promptly.

“Ah Cherie! Don’t be so hard on me, I came here to ask you to accompany me to the fair next Sunday at the village a little away from this noisy bustling town, I knew you were terribly homesick my sweet and won’t this make you feel like you were closer to where you came from?”

Renee stood still for a moment, a day’s jaunt in a village; she was sick and tired of constantly being inside the library, she felt like she needed some fresh air and yes, she also did feel homesick…very homesick. At that moment Ferdinand’s offer seemed rather tempting but could she really trust him?

He was a thief for heaven’s sake! But then, he had never actually done her any harm come to think of it. He had indeed stolen something from her but then he had returned it, but that owed more to his curiosity than anything else she thought smiling wryly. She did not trust him at all and yet, she instinctively knew that he would not harm her and she was a woman now, not a naïve innocent country bred girl she thought to herself; she could look after herself. Her mind was made up.

“I congratulate you monsieur! You seem to have your way once you set your mind on it.” She replied smiling at him.

“So you will accompany me?” he asked eagerly, his grin revealing gleaming white even teeth as he stood to a side his hand on the door handle, waiting for her reply.

“Yes” replied Renee quietly as she collected her books. “Now please let me go monsieur, Madame Gregoire will be wondering where I have vanished off to.”

“Ah! That was not as difficult as I expected it would be” replied Ferdinand; “I am a lucky man am I not? I am a professional thief who can acquire anything, almost anything he fancies and I have a pretty girl who would accompany me to the village on Sunday, I’ll be the envy of all the young bucks in the village.”

“Oh yes, I’m certain you would be monsieur.” Replied Renee with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice as she waited impatiently for him to open the door.

“I shall come for you on Sunday Cherie, wait by the back door for me.” He said as he opened the door for her.

“Make sure you are discreet monsieur Claude” replied Renee as she walked past him, “I’m sure Madame Gregoire would not want me cavorting around with the likes of you”

“Ah! You needn’t worry yourself about that my dear! He chuckled, “and it’s not Claude, its Ferdinand.”

“Oh is it?” replied Renee absently, “Goodbye for now monsieur Ferdinand, I will wait for you on Sunday.”

“Your servant mademoiselle,” he replied descending in to a low mocking bow as she left the room.

Posted by chronicler at 12:50 AM | 2 comments  

Labels: Her anamnesis

The wooden box

“Therese something seems to be amiss in the ballroom”, Sophia stood there on the deck. Her hair flying in the breeze, her blue eyes looking eerily innocent and tranquil amidst the blue night. Suddenly blood started flowing freely from her bosom soaking the dress she wore, blood started oozing from her neck, her nose and finally from her eyes but she did not fall down in a heap like she was supposed to. Just fall down thought Therese as she clenched her fists Close your eyes and fall down Sophia and Therese held her breath.

But she did not fall down…

Suddenly Therese was running on the deck after the little figure in a white nightgown when, as she expected; the child tripped on a coil of rope and Therese flinched as she heard the sickening thud and sighed with relief when she knelt beside the little figure and found that the child was unconscious.

But her relief was short lived.

Therese put her shaking hands on the little, frail shoulders and turned the child over; but it was not Marie’s young face that met her eyes but Sophia’s pale ghostly one which was still bleeding from the nose, her glassy blue eyes open and staring at Therese…

She gasped and woke up, taking short, deep and labored breaths, her fingers clutching the silk coverlet of her bed. Beads of perspiration were dripping from her forehead. She waited still for a moment; her head on her hands, giving time for her breathing to even out and then she sighed…a long deep sigh…

Therese parted the curtains of the four poster bed and slipped down. Her light feet made little noise on the rich Persian carpet as she pulled on her dressing gown and slipped in to her slippers. Lighting a candle from the dying embers of the fire place, she made her way out the room as quietly as possible.

The long lofty corridors on the second floor of chateau de Candale was flooded with moonlight which entered through the long French windows on either side overlooking the gardens. White marble pillars stood like ghostly towers on one side while velvet cushioned divans and antique furniture and precious ornaments of gold and silver winked at Therese in the moonlight on the mantelpieces and elaborately carved tables. Her possessions seemed to mock at her she thought as she hurried through on light feet. She climbed a long winding staircase that lay at the end of the wide corridor and entered the Gallery where portraits of all the Candales were hung. She stood for a moment as if hesitating to pass through the long winding corridor that lay before her. Finally giving herself a mental shake and taking a deep breath, Therese started walking again.

She felt cold and the moonlight that came through the high windows felt like unfriendly lights that kept following her, mocking at her and seeing through her carefully guarded emotions to the guilt that lay within, pairs of clear blue eyes from the portraits seemed to follow her every move and Therese drew her dressing gown about her more tightly, her strides bigger and faster now; eager to escape from the Gallery. It winded on long and seemed almost never ending to Therese but finally, she saw a door that stood at the end of the corridor and hurried on forward. When she reached the door, Therese stepped to a side searching for something on a glass lined shelf that stood in a corner next to the door, a few porcelain ornaments stood on the shelf; jars and little cups and saucers of a model tea service. Therese opened one of the jars and took out a very old fashioned key which was tied with a faded and partially frayed pink ribbon. She looked around, making sure that she was alone and silently put the key in to the keyhole and turned the lock.

The room was small and stuffy; a great many boxes lay on the floor, furniture, ornaments, a box of old lacy gowns, pin cushions and a great many books lay scattered on tables and on the floor. White cotton sheets covered most of the furniture and boxes and light entered the room through a small circular window high above, near the wooden ceiling. Therese walked to a table in a corner and pushed it aside revealing a small wooden door without a knob or handle on the wall near the floor. Bending down on her knees, Therese ran her long bony fingers on the door as if searching for something, her fingers slightly tapping on the smooth wooden frame. Suddenly the small wooden door gave a slight ‘ticking’ noise and it opened to one side, the other end supported by a pair of tiny golden hinges. Therese peered in to the tiny opening the door made, a few things were inside; a fountain pen, a bottle of ink and a sheaf of yellowing paper lay beneath a smooth wooden box.

With slightly shaking hands, she removed the other objects over the box and lifted it on to her lap. The box looked old, two slightly rusty hinges were on one side and the lid had intricate carvings which looked somewhat worn out with age. A tiny metal clasp was on a side. Looking around her yet again, Therese unfastened the metal clasp and pried open the wooden lid; pieces of paper that looked like notes lay inside, there were a few letters that were folded and put in to tiny little envelopes and some pieces of paper tied up in to little scrolls. Therese rummaged through the notes until she found what she was looking for, taking a deep breath Therese took an envelope which had been opened and took out a letter; she opened it and spread it on the box and started reading. Many minutes passed, the night went on and Therese just held that letter; reading it over and over again.

As the sky slowly began the show a hint of pink and the usual noises of the servants moving about below roused Therese from her thoughts and she hastily folded and put the letter back in to the box. She then carefully put the box and the other objects in the little cupboard on the wall and silently left the room locking the door behind her.

It was just another day in the library, Renee rushed about doing her daily chores, Madame Gregoire at her desk welcoming and helping the visitors, maids rushing about with piles of books or dusters. Streaks of morning sunlight spilled in through the long casement windows giving it a cheerful morning look. Renee smiled as she made her way downstairs with an armful of books; the scene below her made a lovely picture she thought dreamily. Suddenly there was a flurry of movement below, Madame Gregoire hurried to the front doors and the maids moved away hurriedly in a bid to step out from the main pathway bobbing curtseys as they did. The handsome young Marquis de Candale strode in, his curly head glinting in the sunlight, his broad shoulders and manly frame looking broader and manlier than ever. Renee sighed slightly, her deep blue eyes shining with admiration; he certainly looked very handsome she thought. The young Marquis was not alone however, resting on his arm and walking with him was an older lady, her grey locks twisted in to a very high elegant coiffure. Renee tried to peer through in an attempt to see the lady’s face but to no avail; her head was turned intently conversing with the young marquis.

Silently, Renee climbed down the staircase and tried to disappear through a narrow path between two bookshelves so as to avoid blocking the path of the young marquis and the unknown elderly lady when Adrien who was hoping he might bump in to the blue eyed beauty looked up and smiled; a charming handsome smile that supposedly made almost all the young debutantes shiver with delight. It surely did make Renee feel rather weak in the knees though the reaction that came over her on seeing the elderly lady’s face was wholly unexplainable to even Renee herself. Pure terror seemed to spill through every pore in her body, the lady’s face seemed quite familiar to her though she was quite sure she had never seen her before till then. Renee turned deathly pale and that warm sunny morning suddenly seemed like a cold wintry day because not only her knees but even her hands shook, and her breathing took a pattern of short panting breaths.

Adrien thought that Madame Gregoire’s young assistant looked very pale and agitated on seeing him again and he frowned.

Renee did not know why but all she wanted to do was run away; far away from the old lady and still quaking with terror she curtsied and hastily slipped in to an anteroom on her right tightly closing and locking the door behind her and leaning against it panting and clutching her chest. She put the books down on a table that was closest to the door and sat down in the floor, still leaning against the door her eyes closed; trying to come to grips with her unusual emotions. The room was empty, the curtains drawn and Renee liked the peace and quiet while she sat thinking about the lady, searching her memory for that face…that face with the cold blue eyes…

“So we meet again Cherie” said a familiar voice from the shadows.

Ferdinand stepped out in to the light; a mocking smile on his face.

Posted by chronicler at 5:26 AM | 2 comments  

Labels: Her anamnesis

Enter Adrien

“Renee dear! Please bring me some of those volumes of the Iliad we found in the shelves of one of the rooms in the back.” Called out Madame Gregoire in her sweet sing-song voice as she walked to her desk in the front rooms of the library.

Renee nodded and hurried down the many aisles between the lofty bookshelves in search of the copies. The other day she and Madame Gregoire had cleaned some of the rooms in the back of the library, one room in particular had not been in use for quite some time and Renee and an army of maids had cleaned out the room and sorted out the various titles of books in it. She headed for this room now. She liked the room a lot with its low eaved ceiling and oval windows with broad oaken window seats. The shelves did not look as majestic or as finely polished as the ones in the other rooms and the books had that dusty smell of objects which have not been touched for sometime. Light filtered in to the room through partly drawn curtains and the room was in almost complete darkness. The copies of the Iliad stood on a shelf at the end of the room and as Renee walked towards it she suddenly sensed something moving behind her. She halted and turned around but there seemed to be no one else except herself. Turning around Renee started peering in to the shelf, searching for the books when she heard it again. She closed her eyes and shook her head abruptly as if trying to clear her thoughts and resumed searching for the books.

The dark blue curtains of the room blocked sunlight from entering through the windows and Renee could hardly read the titles from the spines of the books. She stood up, dusting her skirts and went to one of the windows to draw the curtains when a slight scuffling noise was once again heard more clearly than before. Renee immediately turned around yet to find no one there. Making a mental note to tell one of the maids to check behind the bookshelves for signs of mice Renee drew the curtain a little bit when a pair of strong arms held her by the waist and a strong hand clamped over her mouth to stifle her scream. Her heart beating like a maddened thing she managed to turn around to see her captor.

The handsome young man from the park smiled slyly back at her.

By the look in her eyes Ferdinand thought it was more likely that the young beauty in his arms would kick him rather than fall in a dead faint and for some reason that pleased him greatly.

The nerve of him to steal in to the library like that! Thought Renee furiously. She wanted to give him a good kick. She wanted to chase him out of the library. She wanted to hand him to the authorities! Aye she would! She would take him by the scruff of the neck and shake him. She wanted to slap that cocky smile off his face. Aye she certainly would! But first, she needed to be free from his vice-like grip on her waist. The nerve of him!

Ferdinand grinned wider and brought his face closer so that it stopped just mere inches from hers.

“Good morning Mademoiselle, I came to return your little treasure.” He whispered.

Adrien walked up those familiar stairs of the library. He loved this place, the loftiness about it, the elegance and the atmosphere. True, the library at home looked more modern and had a wide range of titles too but it did not have the same feeling; the feeling of utter contentment of being here. Since he was a young lad, Adrien had been a frequent visitor to the library, even on research excursions with his tutor. He knew every nook and cranny of the place and knew the best places to sit where one wouldn’t be disturbed. He also had a good friend in Madame Gregoire who looked on fondly at him as if he were her own son. He climbed to the topmost step and turned around. The view had changed only a little since he left last year; the park as neatly trimmed as ever, the wide stone benches where old gentlemen or young ladies sat to read or enjoy the early morning air were still there. The cobbled street looked as grand as it had been and Adrien smiled to himself; he was glad to be back at home.

“Bonjour Monsieur Candale!” called out Madame Gregoire who came hurrying to meet him.

“La! But I have missed you so! How was your tour? And how are your mother and sister? I am indeed glad to see you back young man! It has been most dull here without you!”

Adrien smiled as he answered Madame Gregoire’s tirade of questions. Madame Gregoire, he thought was a female extraordinaire who could keep up a flow of conversation in almost every situation. Her constant chatter was considered bothersome to some who thought that the old lady was better off talking alone to her books, but to Adrien it was not the least annoying. He was used to the chatter and he liked it; he hardly got to speak to his own mother while growing up closeted in the study with his tutor.

“And where is my little assistant?” continued Madame Gregoire looking around the place as if in search of someone. “I sent her to get some volumes of the Iliad from the little room in back; oh you must see that room Adrien! Renee and I cleaned it out a few days ago; these books have not been touched for the last fourteen years!”

“You found yourself an assistant Madame?” asked Adrien glad that the old lady did not have to do all her work alone now.

“Yes! And the sweetest most helpful little thing she is! I am glad I found her! I wonder where she is, it would not take her so long to find those books.” Said Madame Gregoire frowning a little, “I better go and find out what is taking her so long.”

“Let me go and see where your assistant is Madame,” offered Adrien seeing that she had quite a lot of work on her hands with the library crowding with more visitors.

“Ah! Thank you Adrien! Tell Renee that I need only four copies of the Iliad.” Called out Madame Gregoire as she hurried to her desk.

“Tell me, Cherie, why such a nice young lady like you would treasure such a worthless thing?” asked Ferdinand to a Renee who was fuming with indignation now. He still had his hands clamped around her waist.

“And why would such a charming person as yourself behave in such an ungentlemanly fashion?” demanded Renee through clenched teeth. “Ah! I forgot! Charming people do not attempt to steal things from nice young ladies, so you are not a charming young man but a thief and a foolish one at that!” she finished.

Ferdinand laughed at that. “You are a spirited lass, I like that… I like that a lot.”

“A pity that is, because I detest you monsieur” snarled Renee.

“Tell me what the soil in that leather pouch means to you Renee and I would let you go, I promise.” Said Ferdinand solemnly, secretly thinking that his time here was overdue, someone was bound to find him if he lingered longer.

“And that is because you would want to haste away from this building before Madame Gregoire finds you!” hissed Renee voicing his thoughts.

“Ah! Cherie that is partly the truth, you see I am the least expect-“Ferdinand looked around wildly; booted footsteps could be heard in the corridor and he sprang like a cat to the opened window at the end of the room and was gone in a trice just as Adrien walked in to the room.

Renee just stood gaping at the open window in open mouthed wonder at the thief’s nimbleness and agility.

And that was how Adrien saw her, he gasped; an exquisite brown haired beauty with the bluest of blue eyes and creamiest of creamy white complexions that he had ever seen, staring at the window through which streaks of sunlight entered the dark room, the light bringing out the hidden tints of her brown curls which was tied in to an elegant chignon, loose tendrils near her temples, her trim figure hidden beneath a demure cashmere gown.

Renee turned around at the newcomer. “I’m so sorry monsieur you see there…” and she paused shyly. She was looking at a Greek God there was no doubt about it, she thought. Tall and broad shouldered the young man had crisp blond curls that framed his handsome face. Judging from his elegantly tied cravat to his embroidered waistcoat and the signet ring on his finger Renee knew he must be one of the young pompous men of the nobility. He had deep aqua blue eyes that scanned her from head to toe in a way that made her want hide behind the bookshelf. Who exactly was this handsome gentleman?

“Madame Gregoire wanted me to tell you that she wanted only four volumes of the Iliad.” He said suddenly.

“Oh…yes…monsieur…I was just getting them for…for her.” Renee stammered as she started searching frantically for the books.

He watched her every move, she was nervous he thought amusedly as he watched her drop the pile of books she had collected.

Mentally cursing her nervously trembling hands, Renee collected the books and turned around to leave when the handsome stranger called out;

“Oh! You have left this Mademoiselle!” holding out her leather pouch which the thief had dropped in his haste to flee.

“Oh! Thank you Monsieur!” she said as she took the pouch and smiled shyly at him.

“You are most welcome Mademoiselle.” he replied blandly and to her utter amazement he grinned back.

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