Katherine

by S. A. Glenn

  “How could I possibly turn down all that? It sounds wondrous. Oui, Oui; I will be there.”

  Samuel left the bartender, carrying two sarsaparillas. He saw Katherine and Louis Pierre talking as he advanced toward them. Samuel’s sediments regarding the man were still mixed. Wondering what Katherine and Louis Pierre were talking about, Samuel gave his wife a drink, cautiously standing at her side.

  “Ah, Monsieur Simms. What a lively performance,” stated the Frenchman, offering his hand. “Great to see you again.”

  “Monsieur Pierre…” Samuel articulated a skeptical response, took the hand, but not sharing a mutual expression.

  “Monsieur Pierre is having an evening party this Saturday and needs someone to entertain his clients, so I brought up the idea of us playing at his mansion.”

  “Pardon wa,” Louis Pierre chimed in, “but I am quite thirsty. I will allow you two a tête-à-tête while I acquire something to quench my craving.”

  Samuel and Katherine nodded to his bidding.

  “What’d he say, Kat?” He was excited about possibly playing at the mansion as he watched the not-so-seemingly bad guy order his drink. “What’d he say?”

  “I spoke to soon, I was just excited. He said that he only needs me, Sam. I’m sorry.”

  “But we’re a duet, Kat.” His heart sank as he looked deep into her eyes.

  “I know, Sam… Maybe next time, okay?”

  “It doesn’t matter, no how. I didn’t wanna go!”

  “Come on, Sam. Don’t be that way,” she urged him. “He’s going to pay me five dollars. We can buy more things for the house.”

  “I’m not even allowed to be there, am I?”

  “It’s just a bunch of old people tasting wine and bidding on art—boring stuff!”

  “He just don’t want me being seen by his more important people! He thinks I’ll mess up, scare his friends away!”

  “Sam…” she declared with conflict, stomping her foot, not having a further response.

  “I knew it, Kat! And I know you’re better at playing than I am. I ain’t stupid!” He packed up his violin and bow into the case. Chugging down his drink, he then hurried his coat on and placed his hat atop his head. He took hold of the case. “I best be getting home now, Kat. I’ve got a big order to take care of in the morning.”

  “Sam, wait!”

  “I’m sure MONSIEUR PIERRE will be more than happy to spend more time with you. He can give you a ride home!”

  “Sam, hold on. I’m coming with you… Just give me a minute to tell him I’m leaving—it would be rude not to do so.”

  “Yeah? Wouldn’t want to be RUDE, now would we? I’m leavin’ in TWO minutes! If you’re not out here, I’m gone!”

  She watched her husband storm out the door as she put on her coat and scarf. She scrambled over to Louis Pierre. “Monsieur Pierre, I must leave. I will see you Saturday.”

  “Bon voyage, Madame Simms. I will have Fréderic pick you up at four o’clock sharp!”

  “I will be ready. Au revoir!” she shouted, spinning around to face him as she backed out of the doors.

  THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY

  4:21

  The tasteful, old-fashioned, red brick villa, with its seven chimneys, stood out against the crisp blue sky. Numerous windows gave view over the grounds, showing large, age-old trees and a hedge that gave a boundary to the property.

  “I didn’t realize how magnificent Monsieur Pierre’s home was,” Katherine mumbled as she rode inside the coupe, peering out of the window.

  Fréderic pulled up under the Porte cochere. “Whoa,” he called to the horses. After setting the break, he carefully climbed down from the driver’s seat then straightened out his suit and hat. He opened the hatch and offered his hand to Katherine. “Madame Simms.” There wasn’t any excitement in his voice.

  She poked her head out, smiling as she took his hand. “Merci beaucou, Fréderic.”

  “This way, Madam Simms.” With his limp he led her to the large, oak doors. He turned the handle and pushed them open for her.

  She entered the mansion, stood still in the foyer and waited for Fréderic to escort her into the drawing room. He swung the doors and they crashed closed with echoes. He took her coat, scarf and gloves and placed them onto the rack, then guided her into the formal reception room and motioned for her to sit. “Please, Madam Simms,” he said without enthusiasm, “make yourself comfortable. I will call upon Monsieur Pierre. He shall be here, shortly.”

  “Thank you, Fréderic.” She sat upon the antique sofa and leaned back against a silken pillow, grinning. She viewed him walk lamely around her and exit through a doorway. She examined the intricate motif of the Persian rug at her feet, wondering how much it cost. She gazed over at the flooring with its fine woodwork inlaid in patterns, casting a reflection of the stylish chair next to the settee where she sat. The fireplace caught her attention, being big enough to place half of a tree into it. An enormous mirror hung over the roaring fire and mantel, giving depth to the room. Seven life-size paintings covered the walls. She studied each one, amazed by how well they depicted the reality of their models. Looking up at the ceiling she saw two large crystal chandeliers hanging high. The last things to catch her eye were a few tables with priceless statues.

  4:30

  Behind her in the other room footsteps drew near. She turned, focusing on them. Louis Pierre appeared, smiling, wearing a black, three-piece suit with a frock coat. He pulled out a golden timepiece and flipped it open. With an appreciative nod, he closed it and placed it back into his pocket. Katherine stood.

  “My lovely, Madame Simms. What a pleasure to see you again.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” she granted him with a curtsy in her fancy, new white lace blouse and black skirt.

  “You become more beautiful every time I see you. Now, if you would… please follow me.”

  “Oui, Monsieur Pierre, and merci beaucou for the flattery.”

  “Most welcome. And please, call me Louis.”

  “Oui, Oui, Louis. And please, call me Katherine.”

  He led her onward, opened a door and showed her in. They entered a rectangular room with a long table. There were plates, silverware, glasses, and three sets of candle holders with five candles held in each one, arranged neatly, sitting atop a slightly bluish, medium-gray tablecloth.

  As they passed through the dining room, Katherine noticed several guns and swords displayed on the walls in groups of three. “That’s quite a collection of weapons you have, Louis!”

  “Actually, Katherine, only that pistol there—the big one on top—is mine. The rest are Fréderic’s collection. He loves his weaponry,” he revealed to her, chuckling as he continued onward and opened the next door.

  Entering the exhibition room, Katherine found dozens upon dozens of paintings and statues. Starting with the closest painting, she gazed upon it, awed by its beauty. “What a stupendous work of art. Look at the detail.”

  “It is a Vandyke—Sir Anthony, a Flemish painter. As are these three,” he pointed.

  She made her way to them, glanced over them, then continued around the works of artistry. “And these? Who painted them?”

  “A young man named Vincent Van Gogh. I believe he is just 17 years old. What a promising career he holds, do you not agree?”

  “Incredibly… oui…”

  “And these are paintings by Paolo Uccello, Leonardo da Vinci, and Monet; Italian, Florentine, and French artists. Monet, Claude… he is a dear friend of mine.” Louis showed her the rest of the items, ending the tour at the grand piano stationed at the back of the room next to two large bay windows that overlooked the gardens. “Practice, my dear Katherine, warm up your precious fingers. Pardon wa while I check with Fréderic to make sure that all of the preparations are being made.
”

  “Oui, Louis. Do not let me keep you.” She sat with grace upon the mahogany bench, pressed her fingers down upon the keys and gave off a beautiful musical chord.

  “If you need anything, Katherine, ring for Fréderic and he will come,” he instructed her, pointing at a shiny, red bell.

  “Merci beaucou, Louis.” She reached for the song book, thumbed through its pages and searched for the right melody.

  5:27

  Samuel arrived home from work, worn-out by the day’s large order. His long week had him wanting to unwind—but how could he when he kept thinking about Katherine with Louis Pierre, imagining them laughing and drinking, his paws all over her. He visualized the man telling her how lovely she looked, having his way with Katherine. Samuel wanted to tell that man who threw his money around like he owned the world exactly what he thought—and he just might do that tonight when he picked up his wife.

  He cleaned up then threw a few things together for dinner, eating in front of the glowing fireplace. Thoughts of Louis Pierre getting Katherine drunk then massaging her ran swiftly through his mind, causing his temper to rise. He trusted his wife, but not Louis Pierre. And what if the Frenchman went too far and Katherine tried to stop him? Would he cut her throat like maybe he did with Emily Cromwell? Eating only a portion of what he had prepared, he tossed the rest into the coals and hurried outside to hook up the horse to the carriage, leaving early to speak with his mother-in-law before he picked up Katherine.

  5:56

  Katherine was warming up and getting ready to entertain the guests. She rang the bell and Fréderic appeared. She asked him for something to wet her parched lips and to calm her nerves. He left and returned with a glass of claret. She took a few gulps, her uneasiness faded.

  A door swung open and a well-dressed crowd flowed in, bringing lots of chatter. Men and women alike began viewing the extremely expensive pieces, taking notes on their likes and dislikes and writing down the highest prices he or she would pay, seeing the art as investment opportunities.

  Louis Pierre motioned for Katherine to start playing as Fréderic carried a tray loaded with vintage wine, passing the flavorful beverage out by the glassful. Katherine played Fleuve du Tage, one of Louis’ favorites. The guests became still as they watched Katherine elegantly conquer the song with precision. As she finished the melody without flaw, and with conviction, all broke out with a roaring applause.

  “Viola! Viola!” Louis clapped his hands hard with a proud smile. “Katherine… she is tres bien,” he told a few standing next to him.

  Katherine began her next song. The crowd quieted, returned to their business, enjoying the art, music, and delicious wines that Louis Pierre had for sale by the cases.

  7:03

  Katherine ended another tune, and Louis Pierre called for everyone to join him in the dining room for the feast. 40 of Louis’ closest friends took their seats around the table to indulge in the banquet: At 8:30 as many as 150 prospective buyers would show up, so an hour and a half to eat would be plenty of time for his comrades.

  Katherine was invited to sit at the head of the table alongside Louis. Everyone had an assigned seat, casually talking with his or her neighbor, waiting for the meal. Fréderic brought in a tossed salad with fresh spinach leaves, tomatoes, carrots, onions, celery, cucumbers, and green peppers, with a savory vinaigrette sauce with choice seasoning. Next, he pushed in a sliver cart with a huge pot of delicious soup called vichyssoise, made especially from leeks and potatoes, cream, and chicken stock, served cold. With his ladle in hand, he poured bowls of soup. For the main course he served sirloin steaks, grilled them to perfection per each guest’s request. Topping everything off with dessert, a rich, chocolate pound cake filled with white chocolate mousse and fresh raspberries covered in pale taupe fondant and decorated with hand cut gum paste details was served.

  8:15

  Sara was closing the restaurant early to join Louis Pierre for the last hour of the soirée. She and Samuel secured the place after the last customer left then climbed onto the carriage, leaving for the mansion.

  On their way there Sara smiled; but Samuel only gritted his teeth with bitterness and jealousy about his wife being with a man whom he didn’t care about or trust. He needed to talk to Sara about his conflict with Louis Pierre, but he knew how happy the millionaire made her, so that prompted difficulties for Samuel to express his distraught feelings with her. “Ma’am. Why do you like Louis Pierre so much?” he asked as he guided the horse down the road.

  “He has a kind heart, and his charm is wonderful. Why do you ask?” She pulled her coat tighter around herself.

  “There’s something about him that doesn’t seem right.”

  “Maybe you’re picking up on his pain; he’s been through a lot.”

  Samuel became quiet, thinking about his own past, knowing it had caused him incredible grief. He decided perhaps he had been too harsh with Louis Pierre, needing to show him some mercy. But then the possibility of the Frenchman being the one who ended Emily Cromwell’s life popped into his thoughts. Fear and abomination ravaged his sanity, causing him to worry once again.

  8:51

  Pulling into the driveway Samuel eased up on his speed. He crossed under the roofed structure extending from the villa’s entrance. He viewed dozens of light two-wheeled, one-horse carriages, closed horse-drawn carriages, and four-wheeled carriages lined up and down the narrow driveway. He located a parking space hundreds of feet from the mansion. Pulling over, he set the brake, jumped down from the driver’s seat and assisted Sara down. He walked her to the front door with a feeling of being unfit to be there. With turmoil about what he should do, he backed away into the darkness, avoiding the light emanating from the lamps hanging at the door’s sides.

  “What’re you doing, Samuel?” asked Sara, looking back at him as she reached for the big knocker.

  “I ain’t welcome here.”

  “Oh, come, now. Don’t be silly. What makes you say such a thing?”

  “Katherine.”

  “Why would she say that?”

  “She wanted both of us to perform at this stinking party. But MONSIEUR PIERRE,” he stated sarcastically, “just wanted her. He wants her for more than—!”

  “Samuel! That’s enough!” she interposed.

  “Well… It’s true!”

  “That’s nonsense! But back to Katherine and her performing without you: Louis is a well-known man and he is expected to have the best! You can’t take it out on him because of that. Katherine’s been playing the piano for many years, and her practicing has earned her this job. When you get better, your chance will come.”

  He was upset about being told indirectly that he was not the best violin player. But he knew she was right, and he had come to grips with that. But what bothered him most was that he wasn’t welcome at the party because he wasn’t as polished as the rest inside who were enjoying themselves with luxury, because they knew big words and had traveled a lot. “Maybe so,” he responded. “But also, when I asked Katherine if I was even allowed to be here, she couldn’t give me an answer.”

  “I don’t know what to say to that, Samuel. I can’t imagine that Louis wouldn’t want you here. I’m sure Katherine just misunderstood what Louis told her. Come along, Samuel, it’ll be okay.” She walked up to the door and grasped the knocker then slammed it triple.

  Immediately, Fréderic opened the door and gazed into Sara’s eyes with his expressionless stare. He stepped back and showed her in with his hand. “Madame Jones,” he stated, sounding drab.

  “And Mr. Si—” She turned, but saw that Samuel was gone, causing her to lose her big grin. Looking back at Fréderic with an astonished face, she replaced it with a bold smile.

  “And whom?” He peeked his head outside and searched left then right.

  “Nobody,” she answered, keepin
g Samuel a secret as she entered the foyer. “I came to surprise Louis.”

  “Very well, madame.” He closed the door and checked Sara’s coat, hat, and gloves, then escorted her into the exhibition room.

  Samuel had dodged behind the bush a second before Fréderic opened the door. The rapid beating of his heart slowed as he snuck around the corner to the back where he could look inside to see what he had been deprived of.

  He approached a six foot fence that separated him from the two grand bay windows that gave him the scenery within the mansion. He vigilantly climbed the wooden barrier, reached the other side and stepped off onto a bed of wizened flowers. Creeping two steps along the brick wall, he squeezed between it and a thick evergreen bush. He placed his fingers onto the windowsill then slowly brought his eyes up for a peep. He viewed Katherine sitting a few feet away, playing her heart out, wearing a beautiful blouse that he had never seen before. She appeared to be so proper, like she belonged with the others. He admired her stature, envious of it. Listening to her talent, her music brought a tear to his eye. He wanted to knock on the glass to let her know that he was there and loved her; but he only stood there, watching and hearing the soul-felt song, wishing that he could be with her.

  As Katherine finished playing, the immense, tipsy crowd awarded her laborious feat with claps and cheers. She stood and curtsied. Taking hold of her wine glass, she touched the rim to her lips and took a drink.

  Samuel saw Louis Pierre advance toward her, holding a bottle of merlot. Popping the cork, he then filled their glasses and carelessly sat the bottle onto the windowsill by Samuel. Samuel dropped his head, hoping he hadn’t been seen. After a bit, he came up, noticing Louis Pierre’s attire. The man was wearing his formal evening wear, featuring a coat with a contrasting collar, a waistcoat decorated with a watch chain, white bow tie and a shirt with a winged collar, square-toed shoes, and a top hat. His golden-handled cane was held in his hand. Samuel saw Katherine and Louis Pierre clink their glasses together, and he saw that their bodies wobbled from intoxication. They were laughing, carrying on like they were best friends, downing good amounts of wine. They finished their glasses then placed them on the windowsill. Samuel ducked, avoiding detection. Taking a deep breath, he eased back up, letting out a nervous exhale—then he saw it. Peering through the window that was steamed up by his breath, he witnessed the Frenchman place his hand onto Katherine’s back, sliding it down to her tush then giving it a hearty squeeze.