Sterling’s exhaustion resulted in a deep slumber. Childermass had long since departed before charge’s broken spirit and body found solace in the safety of dreams. Mind now stirred as body lay still save for breath, stirred in a place remembered from what now seemed long ago.
He had first seen her earlier that evening. As young as she was, she was captivating her audience with a talent that many could only wish for and the beauty of…
Body shifted in sleep and pain filled groan escaped but dreams remained intact.
…A brilliant gem, graceful and so confident in nature it was easy to understand the ease of her success…Like the others in the crowd, he had sat there, enraptured by her performance until the shock of her appearance, so very much like the beloved Tess he had just lost to childbirth, had so shaken him that he had to leave the theater. In his dreams, as he had in reality, he allowed himself to slip to the ground outside the back of the theater. His nerves affecting the illness he was already battling, he had hugged his knees tightly to his chest to try and ease the pain. And then, his dream skipped forward, allowing him the escape from certain memories, the loss of his wife, the birth of his daughter and he left alone not knowing how to cope with either.
To clear his head, he had gone to a distant inn close to the Thames and the Archangel and taken a seat in its tavern. Soon one bottle of port, sat emptied by his elbow, the smoke from a pipe enfolding him in its embrace. The tavern had not yet filled with its usual trade and he relaxed in its calm.
But then, she had entered. Silently, gowned in dark blues, a vizard hiding her features, she nearly blended in with the building‘s darkness. Still, he had noticed her but did not know her. He had watched as she had gotten her key from the innkeeper and made her way to the stairs. She had paused then, one gloved hand just resting upon the banister and she had turned to look at him. It was then he thought he knew her, and was stunned to find someone of such acclaim wandering unescorted through the back alleys of London. She turned and took the first step upward, then halted again. Glance was gracefully offered to him once more and he rose from his place and followed her upstairs.
