by Aria Norton
Beads of sweat trickled down his brow, trailing a wet path along his cheek and disappearing under his chin. If only they would open a window! Nathaniel understood that the host and hostess were mindful of their elderly great aunt who caught a cold from the mere movement of air, but surely mercy could be exercised upon him? I've been playing for the past two hours, and have only had a fifteen-minute break. The stuffy room off to the side of the ballroom was his designated rest area, but it reminded Nathaniel of a jail cell. It was summer, for goodness sakes!
Shifting on his seat, Nathaniel was glad when he played the last few notes of the music. He maintained his posture as he stood up and bowed, but all Nathaniel wanted to do was loosen his neck-tie and drape his body over a pile of ice. As he moved back to his torturous room, he was called by the hostess.
“Monsieur Baudelaire, I'm sure you must be rather warm from all that playing, yes?” asked Lady Whitcombe.
Should he agree? I'd be a fool not to! “Yes, my lady. Do you terribly mind if I step into your garden? I have half an hour before my next set.”
“I was going to suggest you have a little ice cream. That should cool you down much faster. I shall have a servant bring it to you in the garden. Will that do? I would hate for you to have a fainting spell before my guests have had their fill of your wonderful talent.”
Nathaniel wasn't keen on the sweet but cold treat; however, he would take anything at this point.
“Yes, that would be much appreciated, my lady. May I take your leave?”
The baroness nodded once. “Please, do.”
Nathaniel bowed, waiting for the woman to walk away before quickly leaving his violin in the little room and making his way to the garden as fast as was proper. After all, people were watching him, and it wouldn't do if they were to see his attire flapping about in his haste.
Taking a deep breath as he left the confines of the ballroom, Nathaniel had a misstep when the headiness of fresh air went straight to his head. It was clean, crisp, and marvellous.
“I do not think I have ever appreciated a breath of air as I have today. Henceforth, I will never take it for granted.”
He found a shady area, and took a look around before he gave his body a good stretch. No one understood how cramped one could get from sitting in one position for too long unless they were musicians.
“Or if you're desperate enough to sit for a painting under an artist who is as undecided as a cat between a sitting bird and mouse.”
Nathaniel had actually seen that before. His mother possessed a rather large tabby cat called Aristotle who was once confounded by a cheeky little mouse and arrogant bird. It had been amusing, to say the least. Aristotle never caught either animal, making Nathaniel wonder if the two had somehow planned it all along.
“I suppose it sounds ridiculous to say such a thing, but stranger things have happened.”
Like falling for a woman who had never planned to see him as anything but brief entertainment.
“I was drawn in by her liveliness and love of life, only to have her diminish my quality of life.”
Nathaniel's current reality was considerably dull and monotonous without Helena. It didn't matter that he was performing nearly every day for different audiences as opposed to merely teaching music. It didn't matter in the slightest.
“I have always relished showing my craft to others, but the love of it has seeped out of me.”
It was as though the little colour he had in his very being had somehow fashioned a small fleshy hole and escaped through it.
“Monsieur Baudelaire?”
Nathaniel turned his head, finding a tiny woman with a tray of what he assumed was his ice cream.
“That would be my refreshment, yes?”
“Yes, sir. My lady asked that I bring it straight to you. Cook has provided a choice of three flavours: peach, lemon, and elderflower.”
None of those flavours sounded particularly appetising. “You may choose one for me. I'm afraid I'm not any good with such things.”
"Oh, far be it from me to do such a thing, sir!" the woman protested. "You may taste what you like and leave the rest. I'll fetch the tray once you're done."
“I'll do so. Thank you.”
The maid arranged the pewter tray before him, curtsying before heading back to the house. Nathaniel eyed the icy creations with reluctance, sniffing each one. “I suppose they don't smell terrible. Perhaps I might have a better experience of them today.”
The one and only time Nathaniel had eaten ice cream had been some years ago when his mother's cook had attempted the culinary treat and failed miserably.
“I had no notion of how it should have been, but my palette took a distinct disliking to it.”
Did Helena like ice cream? Nathaniel imagined she did. Not that it should matter to him, as she should not matter to him.
“But she does, and that is the crux of the matter.”
Sighing, Nathaniel brought the dessert closer to him and took his first spoonful of elderflower ice cream. He grimaced, swallowing the cold cream with some effort. It was as horrible as he remembered it.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur, and Nathaniel received a standing ovation for his performance. He had found it pitiful and disastrous, but to the less trained ear, it had been a sound from heaven. And that is the difference between musicians and everyone else. Had Helena been here, she would have known that he had not given his all. Would Beatrix have known? Nathaniel doubted that. Beatrix would simply praise him no matter what he did, making her opinion useless.
“She does it with good intentions, but I would rather hear sound advice and constructive criticism than all the praise in the world for a terrible performance.”
Packing his instrument away in its case, Nathaniel wondered when Beatrix would show him the evidence she claimed to have. His patience was waning thin, and he was ready to have it over and done with. The knowledge that Helena was entertaining suitors for her hand had sounded impossible, and yet there had to be some grain of truth to it. Beatrix would never speak of such a thing unless it were true.
“She has my interests at heart, and only wishes to see me happy.”
He had no reason to believe otherwise. Nathaniel hoped that this was all a mere misunderstanding, but he had to acknowledge that Helena's sudden cancellation of her lessons and departure was a cause to worry.
"I believed something special was forming between us, and growing in strength by the day. She may not have confessed any sort of feelings for me, but her behaviour spoke of affection."
How had Helena managed to put him away from her memory and move on? Unless she had been pretending for the sake of amusement?
“I am aware that people of her class do find it a game to toy with the lives of others, but I believed her beyond that.”
Helena made him believe that she was different, but if what Beatrix was saying was indeed true, Helena was the worst of the lot.
Leaving Lord and Lady Whitcombe's residence, Nathaniel was hardly aware of his surroundings as he set off for his town house. It wasn't far from the baron and baroness' home, and would only take a forty-five-minute walk to reach his house.
“Nathaniel!” he heard Beatrix call out.
Brow creased, Nathaniel paused, searching the area but seeing no one. Where on earth could Beatrix be? The sun hung low on the horizon and would be gone in minutes, ushering in evening. It was nothing for a gentleman to walk about at this time, but a woman? Preposterous.
“Where on earth are you?” he finally called out.
Beatrix emerged from a thicket of trees, dusting off a few leaves. “I'm happy I managed to catch you before you retired for the evening.”
“What were you doing in the bushes?”
“Oh, I, um, saw a squirrel run up a tree and I decided to see where it lived. Nature fascinates me, you know.”
Chasing after a squirrel? That seemed highly unlikely for Beatrix. I've never known her to care for creatures.
“Did you manage to find it?”
“Find what?” the woman asked, puzzled.
“The squirrel you were after.”
The woman coloured. “Oh, yes, I did, but it disappeared soon after.”
Nathaniel had doubts about the woman's story. If I didn't know any better, I would say that she was waiting for me.
“What are you doing here at this time of the day? Why is your aunt not chaperoning you today?”
“My aunt?”
“Yes, your aunt.”
The woman looked around her as though the answers lay in her surroundings. “Well, I left her at home as she was not feeling well at all. And I just had to get out of the house for some fresh air, and unfortunately walked a little too far. I wasn't aware of it until just now.”
“How strange.”
Beatrix laughed nervously. “Yes, quite. Now, 'tis a good thing I have found you. I have the information I promised I would obtain for you.” The woman took a deep breath, her lips stretching into a smug-looking smile. “Helena will be at Hyde Park tomorrow. My sources say she will be walking with a suitor. I think it best we both go there and see this with our own eyes.”
Nathaniel instantly felt his gut twist within him. So, Beatrix had managed to find some information after all. Well, I shall know the truth once I see Helena in person.
“I will certainly go to Hyde Park tomorrow. Thank you for telling me.”
“Of course, I will accompany you,” Beatrix insisted. “You will need some support.”
It would probably be a good thing to have someone to support him. “Shall I send a carriage for you and your aunt?” he asked.
“That would be lovely!” the woman gushed. “Now, do you mind walking me home? I feel much safer when you are around.”
Nathaniel actually wanted to be alone to digest this information, but it was his duty as a gentleman to see Beatrix home safely.
“Of course. Shall we?”
Beatrix kept up a steady flow of conversation, clearly not minding his lack of contribution. Thoughts of seeing Helena tomorrow plagued him, but the sooner he saw the evidence with his own eyes, the better.
The second Nathaniel entered Hyde Park, he ceased to pay his companions any attention. In all honesty, he had grown rather tired of Beatrix going on about how treacherous the aristocrats were, and how it was best that the lower classes kept well away from them. Her aunt agreed with whatever Beatrix said, and never offered an opinion of her own. I wonder if she has an opinion!
“Do slow down, Nathaniel!” Beatrix complained behind him. “Try to remember that we are women and cannot match your strides.”
Nathaniel hadn't been aware that he had walked ahead of them. He stopped, allowing the huffing and puffing women to reach him.
“My apologies,” he said. “I was in a hurry to take in the beauty of the park.”
Beatrix looked at him with eyes that told him she didn't believe him one bit. They both knew that he was here for one thing only: to catch Helena in the act.
“Never mind that, now,” said Beatrix. “We have caught up to you now. So, where should we sit? Or, should we walk a little longer?”
Why on earth would he want to sit down when he was looking for Helena? "Let's walk a while unless your aunt would rather we rest for a moment?"
The older woman appeared startled that she was given a choice in the matter. She looked to Beatrix, giving a minute nod of her head. Some form of communication had clearly passed between the two women, but it was beyond Nathaniel to decipher it. It must be that secret women's speech.
“I think I shall rest,” the older woman continued. “Please do walk ahead with my niece, Monsieur Baudelaire. Not too far, mind you. I must be able to still see you.”
How far would that be? Nathaniel wanted to take a look around to see how far he could go before the woman would lose sight of them, but he resisted the urge. I shall have to make do with what I am allowed. There was a fair amount of land to cover, but with the imposed restriction would he still be able to find Helena?
“That's a wonderful idea!” said Beatrix. “Come, Nathaniel. Let's heed my aunt's words and move along.”
Beatrix took his arm, drawing him closer than was necessary. Nathaniel wanted to put some distance between them, but he dismissed that in favour of what the corner of his eye had just witnessed. Turning to the direction that had drawn his attention, Nathaniel saw Helena with a gentleman by her side and Rose trailing some distance behind them.
“It's her,” he breathed.
Hot jealousy heated Nathaniel's blood, making his body warm. Helena had her hand on the gentleman's arm in a way that was far too familiar for Nathaniel's liking. He did note that she wasn't smiling, but that was neither here nor there. What mattered was Helena had clearly forgotten about him, and Nathaniel had proof that he had meant nothing to her.
“Why don't we go to them?” Esther suggested. “We can be civilised and greet them. After all, you do know Helena.”
“I don't think I ever knew her,” Nathaniel said darkly. “But I agree. I would love to meet this charming man who has taken all her attention.”
Nathaniel wanted to know what made this man so special beyond his social standing. Unless that was all the man needed to commend him to Helena?
He and Beatrix approached the couple from behind, Nathaniel's eyes never leaving Helena's form.
“Lady Barclay!” Beatrix exclaimed. “How wonderful to see you.”
Nathaniel watched as Helena spun around, her eyes round with mingling confusion and surprise. When her striking eyes landed on him, they crinkled at the corners as she smiled. Nathaniel found his heart lifting and soaring as he witnessed the sincere happiness on her face. She's happy to see me.
“Nathaniel!” she exclaimed. “How lovely to see you. I did not know that you were in London. When did you arrive?”
“Not too long ago,” he said. “How are you, Helena?”
"Introduce us, my dear Helena," said the man beside her. "Are these friends of yours?"
Helena's eyes immediately shuttered as she looked down, a frown briefly forming on her beautiful face. When she looked up, he found another woman standing in her stead.
“Luke,” said Helena, turning to him. “This is Nathaniel Baudelaire, a gifted violinist. I'm afraid I do not know the charming woman beside him. Monsieur Baudelaire, this is Luke Christiansen.”
Nathaniel wanted Helena to reveal who the man was to her, but that was all she offered. He felt Beatrix nudge him, reminding Nathaniel that he had yet to introduce her.
"May I introduce Miss Beatrix Saunders? She is both my colleague and a good friend."
“A pleasure to meet you both,” said Luke. “How is it that you all came to know each other?”
Nathaniel wanted to state that it wasn't a pleasure to meet the man who had taken Helena's attention from him, but that would be foolish, wouldn't it? If there was one thing Nathaniel had learnt in Helena's presence, was that no one could make her do anything unless she wanted to do it. Thus, this man had done nothing that Helena had not allowed. She is to blame, but I cannot help that my anger is directed at him.