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peacock blue - aubrey and blanchefleur
Dec. 18th, 2024 06:35 amAubrey wanted to get some air after a while, but he did his duty and made sure Josette was comfortable first. She no longer seemed to want his company and had lapsed into a reverie. She had, by degrees, inched closer to the heart of the salon, where Faerys reigned in her peacock-blue gown, seemingly interested by something Faerys was saying about the lost world of Atlantis. From the look on her face, Aubrey guessed she had gone far inward and temporarily forgotten about the presence of Blanchefleur at the gathering.
Josette was not a vapid, sheltered young woman, but in her time with Josian, she had turned out a fair imitation of one. Her natural personality was dreamy and wondering, which often put her into an aspect similar to the passivity desired in maidens. He guessed that it came naturally for her for her body to be present while her mind was elsewhere. Her life with her hard-bitten mother and later, earning wages, had not been easy, and a sensitive person would be likely to develop a complex inner world to shield them from the crudeness of their outer circumstances.
Josian enjoyed a cosmopolitan circle and would expose her to fascinating people, places, and ideas. Perhaps this would balance out his separating her from Bryony, eventually, and the rift between them would close.
The garden at night was pleasant. In late summer, the air was peaceful and refreshing. The night-blooming jasmine’s fragrance radiated in the darkness, suggesting the white flowers that remained unseen. The delicate splashing of a fountain was as effective at concealing private conversation as it was in complementing the night ambiance. Given Faery’s penchant for entertaining all night long, her gardens were undoubtedly designed to be viewed and enjoyed at night.
Aubrey ventured further into the darkness, away from the lights and music that flowed from the open windows and doors of the ballroom. Here, the landscape grew blurred and indistinct in the shadows, and the growing sparseness of beds indicated that he was leaving the garden proper and moving into the open park. The sounds of birds’ chirps and occasionally beating wings confirmed the impression. The moon shone full and bright overhead, but the heavy foliage of the trees concealed its silvery light from the park, so that only a few dim rays penetrated the plush green of the lawn.
“What are you doing?” An abrupt voice jarred Aubrey from his study of nature and he turned, finding on the opposite side of a silvered pool, a woman with pale, nearly white, hair in a white hooded cloak and pale blue gown. Her general appearance gave an impression of immense beauty, but the warmth of the impression was checked by the disappointed, almost cold, look that always lingered around her hollow eyes.
Aubrey’s gaze automatically went searchingly toward her eyes, because they always reminded him of the eyes of another. She and this other were alike in some ways, and when they spoke to him, it was always with an appeal, as though to the theologian, for some hopeful news of salvation.
When Aubrey experienced this kind of appeal, he felt an answering appeal in himself, never more than when he had met Louis’s blue eyes, which reminded him so much of Blanchefleur’s. He became aware then of a yearning in himself for dissipation.
“Miss Blanchefleur.” Aubrey’s voice was equally abrupt. It was his habit to conceal his fanciful and often wild thoughts with an attitude of severity, particularly when they were interrupted by someone else. If some of the thoughts were known, he might be taken to be completely insane, since he often eschewed the bounds of logic and rationality to consider the universe in more holistic terms. “The night is growing cold, and I don’t think your wrapper will be equal to it.”
From Blanchefleur’s position at the opposite side of the pool, Aubrey could not tell if she had come upon him in the dark, or if he had in fact come upon herself.
She lifted her shoulders in a clear denial, shrugging off his words. “It is my right to feel cold on a walk at night if I so wish, though your words are scarcely justified given that I am wearing a cloak. While I appreciate your considerate talk, Aubrey, since we find one another here, I wonder if we can speak more frankly.”
“That depends upon the subject.”
His response, as spontaneous as it was frank, pleased her, and her rouge-colored lips curved in a smile.
“You are a close friend of Josian’s, I know, and you have been dedicated to the service of one another for some time. Now, you are taking his newly-found sister around, this… Josette.”
Aubrey looked at her searchingly, wondering if it was possible if she could feel jealous toward Josette, as Josette felt toward her.
“Josette piques your curiosity?”
“Of course. There is something to her. A richness, a depth. Her beauty is considerable but not uncommon, especially given that she has been so recently retrieved and polished up. She would, of course, shine all the more, feeling the novelty of her circumstances.”
“I hope you will be as frank as you indicated you would like to be.”
“I wondered if there was an understanding between yourself and Josette.”
Aubrey was surprised by Blanchefleur’s question and had to consider it a moment. He would have thought that Blanchefleur’s keen and broad intelligence would prevent her from believing that which Josian hoped everyone at the salon might begin to suspect, that Aubrey and Josette possessed a special enjoyment of one another’s company. He was certain Blanchefleur must be aware of his love for Louis and all sorts of things about himself he had never revealed, always hoped to conceal, that society had managed to fish out and discuss at salons like these beyond his earshot.
Josette was not a vapid, sheltered young woman, but in her time with Josian, she had turned out a fair imitation of one. Her natural personality was dreamy and wondering, which often put her into an aspect similar to the passivity desired in maidens. He guessed that it came naturally for her for her body to be present while her mind was elsewhere. Her life with her hard-bitten mother and later, earning wages, had not been easy, and a sensitive person would be likely to develop a complex inner world to shield them from the crudeness of their outer circumstances.
Josian enjoyed a cosmopolitan circle and would expose her to fascinating people, places, and ideas. Perhaps this would balance out his separating her from Bryony, eventually, and the rift between them would close.
The garden at night was pleasant. In late summer, the air was peaceful and refreshing. The night-blooming jasmine’s fragrance radiated in the darkness, suggesting the white flowers that remained unseen. The delicate splashing of a fountain was as effective at concealing private conversation as it was in complementing the night ambiance. Given Faery’s penchant for entertaining all night long, her gardens were undoubtedly designed to be viewed and enjoyed at night.
Aubrey ventured further into the darkness, away from the lights and music that flowed from the open windows and doors of the ballroom. Here, the landscape grew blurred and indistinct in the shadows, and the growing sparseness of beds indicated that he was leaving the garden proper and moving into the open park. The sounds of birds’ chirps and occasionally beating wings confirmed the impression. The moon shone full and bright overhead, but the heavy foliage of the trees concealed its silvery light from the park, so that only a few dim rays penetrated the plush green of the lawn.
“What are you doing?” An abrupt voice jarred Aubrey from his study of nature and he turned, finding on the opposite side of a silvered pool, a woman with pale, nearly white, hair in a white hooded cloak and pale blue gown. Her general appearance gave an impression of immense beauty, but the warmth of the impression was checked by the disappointed, almost cold, look that always lingered around her hollow eyes.
Aubrey’s gaze automatically went searchingly toward her eyes, because they always reminded him of the eyes of another. She and this other were alike in some ways, and when they spoke to him, it was always with an appeal, as though to the theologian, for some hopeful news of salvation.
When Aubrey experienced this kind of appeal, he felt an answering appeal in himself, never more than when he had met Louis’s blue eyes, which reminded him so much of Blanchefleur’s. He became aware then of a yearning in himself for dissipation.
“Miss Blanchefleur.” Aubrey’s voice was equally abrupt. It was his habit to conceal his fanciful and often wild thoughts with an attitude of severity, particularly when they were interrupted by someone else. If some of the thoughts were known, he might be taken to be completely insane, since he often eschewed the bounds of logic and rationality to consider the universe in more holistic terms. “The night is growing cold, and I don’t think your wrapper will be equal to it.”
From Blanchefleur’s position at the opposite side of the pool, Aubrey could not tell if she had come upon him in the dark, or if he had in fact come upon herself.
She lifted her shoulders in a clear denial, shrugging off his words. “It is my right to feel cold on a walk at night if I so wish, though your words are scarcely justified given that I am wearing a cloak. While I appreciate your considerate talk, Aubrey, since we find one another here, I wonder if we can speak more frankly.”
“That depends upon the subject.”
His response, as spontaneous as it was frank, pleased her, and her rouge-colored lips curved in a smile.
“You are a close friend of Josian’s, I know, and you have been dedicated to the service of one another for some time. Now, you are taking his newly-found sister around, this… Josette.”
Aubrey looked at her searchingly, wondering if it was possible if she could feel jealous toward Josette, as Josette felt toward her.
“Josette piques your curiosity?”
“Of course. There is something to her. A richness, a depth. Her beauty is considerable but not uncommon, especially given that she has been so recently retrieved and polished up. She would, of course, shine all the more, feeling the novelty of her circumstances.”
“I hope you will be as frank as you indicated you would like to be.”
“I wondered if there was an understanding between yourself and Josette.”
Aubrey was surprised by Blanchefleur’s question and had to consider it a moment. He would have thought that Blanchefleur’s keen and broad intelligence would prevent her from believing that which Josian hoped everyone at the salon might begin to suspect, that Aubrey and Josette possessed a special enjoyment of one another’s company. He was certain Blanchefleur must be aware of his love for Louis and all sorts of things about himself he had never revealed, always hoped to conceal, that society had managed to fish out and discuss at salons like these beyond his earshot.
