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A Gothic Lesson in Love

Page 13

by Curtis Bennett


  Duet Theme from The Pearl Fishers opera, by Bizet, she repeated. Then again, she repeated it. Suddenly a light bulb went off in her head.

  Dropping the notebook on the patio, Irene sprung up in the chair. She suddenly remembered where she had heard the name of that tune before. It was one of the clues she had collected from her research on the professor. He had often played it in concert for it was his favorite classical tune.

  Looking towards the cottage, where the music was coming from, she rose up slowly. Her heart was pounding wildly with excitement. She had no doubt who the professor was now. Slowly and deliberately she walked towards the cottage as his playing became more pronounced, more breathtaking, more moving.

  “Irene!” she heard a familiar voice cry out to her from her left. Turning she saw that it was her aunt coming towards her around the bend of a densely wooded area.

  Startled and conflicted beyond words, Irene stopped in her tracks.

  “Auntie, what-what are you doing here?” she cried.

  “I was concerned about you, Irene,” Audrey said wearing a worried expression. “We have to leave and now, honey. You do know who lives at this place.”

  “How did you find me?” Irene asked, sounding annoyed.

  The winds picked up and a light mist of rain hung in the air about them.

  “I was vacuuming the carpet in your bedroom after you left when I came upon a box you had apparently stashed away and out of curiosity, I opened it. Inside I saw the stockings, corset, garter straps and matching bra. Of course, I was taken aback, at first. The clothing, the lacy undergarments. This was so unlike you, Irene.”

  “You went through my things,” Irene said, sounding more irritated than annoyed this time.

  “Like I said, I was cleaning the carpet, not snooping around,” Audrey clarified. “Anyway, Morris happened to stop by and we talked. That’s when he told me he had reason to believe you had visited this residence on more than one occasion. Then I remembered that Andrew Seabreeze’s middle name was Maurice. Eventually, I put two and two together and had old man Dempsey drive me out here. He showed me where you had parked your bike the first time you ran out of gas here and sure enough, it was there when we pulled up a few minutes ago. Please, I am urging you to leave with me. I really don’t know what’s going on here but you know nothing about him. Besides, your mother would kill me if ended up pregnant while you are here.”

  “It’s not like that and he’s not like that,” Irene declared, turning abruptly, and walking away.

  Audrey followed, trying her best to catch up to Irene.

  “You should have trusted me!” Irene cried, running her fingers through her hair.

  “Irene, I know you are a grown woman, but I am concerned about you and afraid for you.”

  “You have nothing to be afraid of,” Irene reiterated, as she paused, hoping to put the matter to rest.

  “Irene is right,” a deep and authoritative voice resonating from behind them said. “You have nothing to be afraid of. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. Andrew Maurice Seabrook or Seabreeze as you may know me as. Your niece is my helper, pupil, and a good friend. Actually, she’s my best of friends.”

  Irene and her aunt stood frozen in place, their mouths opened, their eyes widen, both obviously captivated by the very handsome and articulate young professor, who just happened to be a fair-skinned Negro. It was the first time that Irene had seen him in the flesh. His chiseled and drop-dead gorgeous face and dark green eyes made her grow weak in the knees. She was in awe.

  “I can assure you that Irene is in good hands,” the professor continued. “Please, follow me. Allow me to show you what we’ve been working on.”

  Still shell-shocked, the two women glanced at one another, then found themselves following the professor into the garden. For the next twenty minutes he showed Audrey the planting they had done, the landscaping they had started, and the Avenue of Azaleas project they had begun.

  “I feel so foolish,” Audrey said afterwards. “I owe you both an apology.”

  “Don’t fret over it,” the professor said in a calm voice. “You were only going by what you had heard about me. Unlike the world outside of these gates, know that I exist in a world of facts, not unfounded beliefs and opinions.”

  “Well, I certainly owe my niece an apology,” she said, facing her niece.

  A smile touched Irene’s face – a warm, sincere, benevolent smile. “I accept your apology, auntie. I know you were only concerned for my welfare and I cannot hold that against you.”

  The two hugged.

  “Please understand, the professor is my friend and I hope you will become his friend, as well.”

  Turning to the professor, Audrey offered him a broad smile as she extended her hand to him. “If you are a friend of my niece, then you are a friend of mine.”

  He took her hand graciously in his ungloved hand and shook it vigorously.

  “Well, I had better be on my way,” Audrey said. “I’ll leave you two alone. See you whenever you arrive at home tonight, Irene.”

  “Okay, auntie,” Irene said, exhaling.

  The two watched Audrey walk a short distance before Irene spoke again.

  Why? Irene eyes questioned, her breathing slowed in an attempt to steady her voice, which felt somewhat shaky. “Why did you do it, professor?”

  “Please, you may call me Andrew,” he said with a gentle smile. It was a smile more radiant than any she could have imagined. “I did it because you were in a tight spot. And I did it because of your powerful lesson on trust, Irene.”

  “Why, thank you. You are a very thoughtful man and very attractive, I might add,” she said with dreamy eyes as her gaze moved from his eyes to his lips. “I always assumed that you were disfigured or scarred or something along those lines, but obviously, you are not.”

  “No, I am not, as you can see,” he replied as her gaze continued to hold his.

  “Now what?” she asked as her lips parted in a sensuous way.

  “If you really want to know the whole story, come take a walk with me,” he said, extending his hand to her.

  Irene promptly took it. His grip was firm and warm. At that moment, she would have followed him to the center of the universe. But this particular trip ended far too soon in his study where he sat down at his desk. She sat in the same chair in front of his desk.

  “I noticed that you walk quite well without your cane,” she said, as she leaned back in the chair.

  “Like everything else, it was all a part of my cover,” he began. “Irene, what I am about to share with you is highly classified. My life could be in great danger if certain people discover that I am alive and well. Understand?”

  “Yes,” Irene murmured as though she were responding to her wedding vows.

  “I am a graduate of Oxford University, as you know. At age four I was labeled a child prodigy. By age six, I had not only mastered the piano but was also reading music and writing my own compositions. I studies jazz in America for two years before returning to Oxford. After teaching music there for several years, I became a tutor for hire for some very wealthy and influential people, mainly their children. My last commission involved the daughter and the niece of a rich and very powerful English nobleman that I cannot name. My job was to tutor them in both music and philosophy. They were young and beautiful looking lasses, and not of legal age. One was quite immature, though. I was twenty-six years old at the time.

  “The two seemed only interested in competing for my attention and for my heart, each undermining the other, instead of showing any interest in what I was trying to teach them. At some point, the niece decided to make her long held feelings known to me. Of course, as a gentleman, I rebuffed her and promptly reported the incident to her uncle, the nobleman.

  “Since I had come so highly recommended, and was near completion of my commission, he insisted that I complete my contract. I was paid extra to wear a meshed covering over my head, one made out of silver, whenever I tutor
ed the young lasses. This gave the girls an opportunity to focus on their lecture instead of a face they found irresistibly attractive. A fastening device was attached to the lower part of the covering with a hasp and small padlock so that I could not be enticed to remove the covering by the arduous and seductive young lasses, not that I would ever do so. There was an opening for my eyes and one for my mouth.”

  “How ghastly,” Irene quipped. Andrew continued.

  “Unfortunately, a rift ensued between me and the nobleman after the niece accused me of seducing her, which was an outright lie. She did this because I continually refused her advances. Three months past when she said that she was expecting and that I was the father – “Was she really expecting?” Irene jumped in, anxious to know.

  “Yes she was,” Andrew revealed. “Quite pregnant. Though not by me. Irene, I swore on my dead mother’s grave that I was not the perpetrator. But they refused to believe me. So they placed me on house arrest for four months, just long enough for the fetus to develop to the point they could abort it and see what race it was, since I had been so adamant in my claims of innocence. Once they discovered that the baby was Caucasian, they knew that they had made a grave mistake. Eventually her father learned that she had been impregnated by her fencing coach, who was white. But I was not off the hook yet. You see, I knew far too much.

  “Although the nobleman knew that his niece had lied about me, and he knew who the real offender was, he feared that word would get out and his niece’s royal name would be smeared in public. So he persuaded me to keep quiet about this scandalous affair for ten years or I’d be hunted down and arrested on charges of sexual assault on a minor, and on a supposedly young virtuous girl of noble origins, no matter how false the claim. It would be my word, as a Black man, against a young noble lady. It was also made known to me that I might not make it to trial alive if this information ever got out. There was always the possibility someone would try to avenge the honor of the nobleman’s niece, a blood relative of the Queen, by killing me, the alleged perpetrator.

  “So I decided to withdraw from the public eye. I retreated to this lofty estate left to me by a wealthy but little known relative from Africa. Here I have lived a secluded life behind my iron-wrought gate and my metal veil; my only contact with other human beings being the deliveryman and my housekeeper. That is, until you showed up.”

  “And you never considered going to the police about this?”

  “As I’ve stated, it would be my word against a noble lady’s word.”

  “Yes, you’ve made that point already,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Now, the nobleman passed away some years later, as well as my wealthy uncle, I might add.”

  “Then you have nothing to fear, my dear. The nobleman’s dead!”

  “That’s exactly what makes this situation so dangerous for me.”

  “How’s that?”

  “You see, my uncle, while alive, was as powerful and influential in societal circles and this helped to keep the nobleman and any ignominious intent on his part or his family at bay once he found out about my predicament. As far as I can tell, only the nobleman had an inkling of where I was living. And he was the only one who was in a position of authority who could have exonerated me if I had decided to come out of exile early or if I had decided to pass this matter onto Scotland Yard. Only he knew of my innocence, outside of his daughter and his niece”

  “You’re right, though I’m sure he would have lied to protect the honor of his niece.”

  “True, but that would have been a risk I’d have to take. Still, I remained true to my word.”

  “And money, what do you do for money?”

  “A trust fund was left for me by the same relative who left me this place,” he answered. “The sum was quite substantial.”

  “But why the wearing of the veil after you arrived here, and why the name change?” Irene queried.

  “I figured that if I could create a personage that was so hideous and so fearful, a real living and breathing nightmare, it would keep the curious away, especially those who may be searching for me on the noble lady’s behalf. And it did for the most part, except on those rare occasions when local youths grew bored and set out for an adventure or two. That’s why the front property looks the way it does, to discourage the curious.

  “As for the name change, I learned long ago that if you wanted to hide something, hide it in plain view of people and they will never notice it.”

  “So you assumed the last name of Seabreeze,” she added. “I have to say, it was quite a clever move on your part, the similarities of names.”

  “Again, I figured that no one looking for me would ever believe that I would be so obvious in my choice of names, that is if they even considered that I had changed my name.”

  “May I ask if you ever had a pet before, perhaps a dog?” she asked. “A very big dog.”

  “I sure did,” he admitted. “His name was Crusher. He died several years ago from a rare blood disease. How did you know about him?”

  “Just stuff I heard on the streets.”

  “I see.”

  “It is amazing what you have gone through,” Irene said solemnly. “And I am deeply saddened by the pain inflicted on you.”

  “I’m fine. Only you and your aunt know my identity now. My housekeeper Mildred will know as well. But if I am discovered, I may be pursued on account that I failed to keep my agreement.”

  “What agreement?”

  “That I would remain out of the public eye for ten years, which is just a year away.”

  “Then you must do whatever you can to remain anonymous.”

  “I’ll try my best,” he said, his luminous gaze sweeping over her lovely face and body.

  “Well, I’d better be going,” she said, completely mesmerized by this intelligent and handsome young man. “I don’t want to go, but I have a lot of explaining to do and my aunt is probably at home waiting on me to begin. I promise I’ll see to it that she keeps this matter under wraps, okay.”

  Andrew nodded.

  “By the way, you know I have only two weeks left before I return to the states. How many more lessons do I have?”

  “Only two…love and passion,” he answered, producing a smile as charming as any she had seen.

  Standing, Irene asked if she could drop by in the morning for her final lesson. He said that was fine, and that he looked forward to seeing her again.

  On the way out, she looked back and flashed a bright smile, saying, “You know, I thought you were much older.”

  Andrew feint surprised, then quipped, “Only in wisdom.”

  The two chuckled.

  Before she was out of hearing range, he called out to her, saying, “Hey, bring a bathing suit when you return tomorrow.”

  Chapter 15

  Irene found her aunt in her art studio, laboring away on another impressionist landscape scene. Classical music played softly in the background. This painting featured a two-story cottage, a running brook, and a lush Nordic garden, very much like the one at the Seabreeze place, or was that now the Seabrook place?

  Irene walked over and hoisted herself into the vacant folding chair on Audrey’s right side.

  Though her expression was solemn, Audrey turned and greeted her niece graciously.

  “Why, that’s Andrew’s place!” Irene exclaimed, gazing beyond her aunt’s shoulder at the painting.

  “Yes, it is,” was Audrey’s sullen reply.

  Wanting to ease her aunt’s concerns, Irene spent the next fifteen minutes explaining her involvement with the professor, including the lessons he had given her. And yes, she even gave insight on the purpose and meaning of the sexy undergarments she wore on that one particular evening.

  Touching her niece’s arm Audrey smiled. “Well, it seems as though the good professor has taught you more about being a woman than I could have ever imagined teaching you. And I have to omit, he’s done a spectacular job.”

  “But I’ve lear
ned from both of you,” Irene assured her aunt.

  “Sure you have,” Audrey said demurely as she stood up and removed her protective smock and faced her niece. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you, Irene?”

  Not totally surprised by her aunt’s observation Irene quietly said, her eyes averted, “Very much so.”

  “Does he know this?”

  “No, not that I am aware of.”

  “That he is a Negro matters not to you?”

  “I fell in love with Andrew long before I ever knew what he looked like or knew what color he was,” she said, her words ringing with conviction. “Auntie, this is 1961, not 1861. And had I known his race, I would have fallen in love with him.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the social dynamics and potential difficulties of such an involvement.”

  “I’m from the United States auntie, remember,” Irene added retrospectively.

  “Personally, I think he is a fine man, I really do Irene,” Audrey said, sitting back down. “I’m just concerned over this matter with the nobleman’s niece more than anything else.”

  “Well, that’s two of us.”

  “It’s a fantastic story but again your professor is a fantastic man.”

  Irene managed to produce an earnest smile.

  Standing, the two women embraced and held one another for what seemed to be an eternity.

  Irene arrived early the next day, anxious to see Andrew and to share the same space with him. She had been up most of the night unable to sleep and unable to think about anything or anyone else but the man she loved. However, once she finally succumbed to the mystical world of dreams, she slept soundly.

  “You’re not wearing your veil!” she said almost frantically the moment he appeared.

  “Would you like me to?” he asked, as he flashed a smile.

 

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