Aurore Devareaux

Skittles ( the woman) makes fresh scones?!

"Aye...Tis a fact. But o' me own mind, best be tha' I speak to these folk...Iffin' it be Aurore's needs tha' need tendin'." Devon eyed Sterling again, the smirk still hinting his expression. "Tell me what ye want an' I'll talk to Mister Browne..."

Do you not find scones to be more delightful than buns?

Although the rain had abated to some extent, Devon reapeared in an overcoat of heavy wool. You could take the boy out of Ireland, but the instinct of the reversal would never ocure. They stepped onto muddied cobbles, Burke winding through byways not commonly used as point A to point B navigation. In ten minutes, they emerged onto a main lane not overfar from the harbour. A warm glow beconed from the otherside, cast to the outer gloom through the semi-distortion of glazier skill. Burke glanced down both directions of the mildly populated street, then left the cover of darker shadows to cross onto selected destination.

Sockton, Burke and Roberts conversed quietly in the shop's main room. Hushed speculations and contemplations were aired in regard to the Englishman suddenly in their surrounds. The whole thing was quite a quandry to their thinkings, the attraction obvious but odder still. As the door upstairs was heard to open and muffled conversation drifted below, the trio changed subject matter and acted nothing amiss as Sterling's footsteps sounded the stairwell.

Why thank you...But may I have it without creme?

German brown or French Dijon?

"If that is what you wish...But the cottage you know of is not the only property we own. I am sure Sabastian will be able to figure something out." She streached upward, careful not to disturb his injury and laced her arms around his neck, "Perhaps you should be on your way before the hour grows later...Se rappeler que, Sucre'....Je t'aime."

beddlam

She smiled warmly, the storm that threatened so vehemantly before had passed them over and what damage had been done in its' wake was minor. Moving to the door, she called down the hallway for Devon then turned back to watch Sterling with loving eye. "I shall await your return, and feel as though I am dying of thirst until that time when you quench my soul again. Please take care, Devon will keep you safe, but I still worry of your health, Sucre'." Aurore grew quiet mommentarily before going on, as though lost in some private thought then returned to the present. "I think I should like to see your ship...Mayhaps, from the decks themselves."

Aurore considered for a moment then nodded as a location came to mind, " There is an Inn that can accommodate our need and will be happy to do so. We have had relations with them for a long time and there is a private room to be had. I can send word there...Perhaps you should take Monsieur Burke with you, he knows the way to the Dancing Steer."

pressure

Was it not baggette?

She remained stock still, as if mimicing vanetian masterpiece transformed from marble cool to the warmth of flesh rendering. Not a twitch disturbed her perfection of motionless poise, not a blink, and she remained that way, dark olive pools trapped by his own of lighter shade as the familiar words caressed her hearing then a smile slowly spread over toffee features, disintigrating the illussion. The word she offered to him was soft in tone, but therin lay a mixture of emotions confined to simple means. "Oui..."

"If you think that you can shoulder the possible condemnations, then I shall say yes. And do so with pure heart and clear conscience...but please keep in mind, cher...I am what I am and though we are accepted here in this tiny out of the way place, in others there will be no hiding my skin or features and you may face ridicule for your choice." Aurore bent forward, brushing his forehead with the soft touch of full lips.

And if she does, what is her preffrence?

Aurore's attentions paused as she looked intently into Sterling's eyes. "Are you sure? I do love you, with the very essence of my being....But do not wish to be a ....burden. I do not wish to bring you shame or discomfort." The delicate wrought of her features became drawn with concern and fear.

undaunted

She reached forward hesitantly, brushing back the damp tangle of blonde hair away from Sterling's face. The situation still had her sense of balance off kilt and words were kept wisely in check as the wet of his cloathing saturated her own and the bed cover she sat upon. No battle to wage, no glory or victory to claim, Aurore waited with exterior calm to see what his next action would be.

fortitude

After allowing Sterling entrance, Aurore had backed away to take seating on the large bed that dominated far wall. Two lone candles gave wavering lumination to the small room, lumination that she shied from in order to hide the swell and redness of her eyes. After his departure earlier, it was here that Aurore had sought sanctuary away from the others. With not a word, she had swiftly navigated to smallish boundries as the heavy tears began to fall and had continued so until the welcome of mattress comfort conjoled a fitful rest from emotional strain. Those below had suspected something amiss, had waited for words of instruction that never came. Burke had offered going to Sabastian, but had been negated by Childermass who had slipped into early evening gloom and dissapeared. Aurore listened now, fighting the minute quiver of lip and nasal burn that announced the further call of liquid diamond flood. This rift of emotions, so unkown to her, conjured forth insecurities that she did not know how to tame; making her feel liked trapped rabbit. Inhaling deeply, breath stuttering with intake, she turned wide expressive eyes to where he stood as heavy salt crystal broke the barrier of lower lid to fall into the dim below. Her voice was ragged whisper... "Je t'aime...et avoir peur de qu....'"

Devon waited patiently to assure he was not needed. Door was opened, the dim flicker of candle light barely glimpsed, and Sterling was allowed inside. With the barrier closed once more, Irishman left to reclaim divan kingdom.

Devon frowned, rubbing the spot affected by calico take off. Moving back, he allowed Sterling entrance then re-secured the door. With a "follow me" gesture, the Irishman passed through the chamber then up the stairwell. Two doors were passed, the third stopped in front of. Devon nodded towards destination then moved to the side, waiting.

Devon and Calico had happily taken over the legnth of deserted divan. Things were calm with the day leaving the time of dusk in favor of evening. The soft pop and crackle of near hearth lulled companions into half sleep, steadily taking greater hold until abruptly uprooted by determined knock. Startled feline launched from Devon's chest, claws giving extra traction and causing a string of colorful words to be announced loudly. Irritated, the Irishman went to the door, palming concealed blade and threw back the bolts. The door gave minute protest to opening, swolen slightly with the damp, but gave way with ernest tug to reveal hailer.

They come with ratings now?