The Lost Scribe of Justitia

The Garconniere

(The Garçonniere on Rykindella estate)

      For the remainder of his stay Petrich found himself in the expansive fully bloomed gardens of the Rykindella estate more often than not.  Here he found colors that suited him more than mixing pigments experimentally on a train.  It was also here that he took his preliminary star readings.
       It was during setting up his easel and paints in order to practice rendering such colors on parchment  on the first day that he spied the Lady Lydia.  She seemed to have a healthier color about her, as she strolled through the garden with the baby in its extravagant pram. There was no assisting servant in sight.
        At a good 20 yards away, Lady Lydia did not notice Petrich in behind his easel. She was apparently making a beeline to the garden's garçonniere.  Once there, she took the baby out of its pram and entered the building that Petrich did not believe was in use, except for perhaps gardening tools.
       Within just a few moments, Lady Lydia exited the building, and laid the baby back in its pram.  Instead of continuing her stroll, she merely stood, taking a lace handkerchief out of her sleeve and holding it to her eyes. Petrich could hear her sob, and then the baby wanted to begin whining.
        When it came to the affairs of motherhood, Petrich Hollenburg was at a loss. He simply could not assume just how much pressure this young new mother was facing.  He wondered if she even knew the true reason he had been hired.  Or did she believe as her husband did as more a pathway for the Duchess to climb another rung on the already lofty ladder of aristocratic high society?
      Either way, Lady Lydia was being made a spectacle that would follow her the rest of her and her son's life.  In watching her finally gain control of her sobs and turn her attention to the whimpering baby, Petrich pitied her as he had never pitied anyone before.  He wished he were not privy to it all.
        In lifting the baby and holding him close, Lady Lydia's eyes turned up and saw Petrich.  She approached him.  Petrich lay down his paint brush, including another brush he kept held across his mouth between his teeth, wiped his hands and stood to greet her.
       He bowed graciously. "Good afternoon, My Lady."
       "And to you, Master Hollenburg." She looked back over to the pram outside the door of the garçonniere and then back at Petrich. "I thought I was alone. . .Oh dear, how embarrassing, for the both of us. I very much apologize."
        "I should have made my presence known, so I should be the one apologizing."  Petrich replied, craning to see the calmed baby a bit better, "Well, he seems happy again."
         "He's spoiled to my holding him constantly, I'm afraid, according to Huxley, anyway."
          Petrich grinned and shrugged. "So be it."
         Lydia smiled gratefully. "Would you like to hold him? Is that something celestial scribes need to do with their subjects?"
Petrich brought his hands from behind his back and inspected them to be sure they were clean enough, then held them out to Lydia for her inspection.
Lydia laughed lightly. "He's bundled. A fleck of paint shouldn't hurt."
        Petrich held out his arms to receive the tiny bundle that was Lord Jonathan, who merely looked at him curiously then closed his eyes peacefully. 
        "Don't you ever wish for children, Master Hollenburg?" Lady Lydia asked.
       The question caught him off guard and he looked up at her. "Huh? What's that?"
         "I know celestial scribes are traditionally without families. But you look rather content with a baby in your arms." Lydia explained.
        "I just find them fascinating. . . and frightening, too."
        "Frightening?"
       "Yes. Not the baby itself, just all it entails in raising one to adulthood. . . And, of course, proper care and love for its mother. The greatest commitment a man can have."
"Hmm." Lydia mused. "I usually do not hear celestial scribes speak so naturally the challenges of child rearing. Justitia scribes must be a breed all their own."
"So you know I'm from Justitia."
Lydia laughed. "Of course, I do! I'm not a demented old man. I was quite aware you weren't from Woxlichen. The Duke's grand nephew Gregor Fromenlich is there, and, therefore, know of them all. Oh! the look on Huxley's face when we greeted you was just. . .atrocious, wasn't it??"
"Rather." Petrich agreed.
Lydia looked at her sleeping baby in Petrich's arms. "Here, I'll take him back to his pram and you can continue your work." She reached for the baby.
"Oh, well, allow me." Petrich walked with Lydia back toward the pram still parked at the door of the garçonniere. He gently lay the baby down and looked at Lydia, who was staring at the closed door of the garçonniere. Her mouth set in a frown.
"If you do not mind my asking, My Lady, what is in there?"
Lydia looked down at the ground. "Storage, for the most part. Shrouded furniture, that sort of thing."  Her face turned a lovely light pink. "I know you saw me blubbering when I came out of it just now. I'm afraid the past can be a bit overwhelming at times. Again I apologize if I distressed you."
        "And again, no need to apologize, My Lady. As far as I am concerned, I saw nothing but a young mother and her baby enjoying the afternoon sunshine."
        "You are most kind, Master Hollenburg. Thank you."  Lydia took hold of the pram and pushed it forward. "Please continue your work."
        Petrich bowed. Then straightened and looked up at the cloudless blue sky.  He would be taking his first star reading later that evening.
         The evening meal he took with the Rykindella family was far more palatable than Petrich expected.  For the most part it was because Lord David Huxley had left on business soon after their discussion in the study.  He had no plans to return before Petrich left again.
        The perfect alibi, perhaps? thought Petrich.
        The Duke was no longer under the impression that Petrich was from the Justitia observatory.  He was now for certain that Petrich was not even a scribe at all but something else entirely.
        The elderly man's eyes opened wide as Petrich sat himself at the table for supper. "Ah! The young one from the garden has returned! Oh! My dear boy! Off your post for a holiday, yes?"
        Petrich was not at all sure how to answer. The Duchess Amelia glanced at him sympathetically but then glared at Lady Lydia sitting on the opposite side of the table.
         Petrich quickly caught on that correcting the Duke was more trouble than it was worth for even his own wife. He'd simply would have to improvise.
         He smiled comfortably at the Duke. "Yes, Your Grace."
        The Duke chuckled. "Good! Good," he looked at Lydia. "Always happy to welcome your cousin, the Earl, my dear."
        Lady Lydia blinked. Petrich could tell she was holding back fresh tears.  She then lifted her chin and nodded. "Yes, Your Grace. Thank you."
        "You know, dear boy, you are welcome in the guest quarters here in the house if the garçonniere does not suit you." the Duke added.
         "The garçonniere suits me perfectly." Petrich insisted.
         A plate of fine cuisine was sat in front of the Duke by a servant.  "Very well. Very well," he commented taking up his knife and fork. "I dare say, even a garçonniere is more comfortable than military barracks, even for ranking officers! I ought to know. Yes. . .yes. ."  His attention turned to his veal cutlet and spring peas with pearl onions.
        Lady Lydia spoke not a word and excused herself as quickly as she was able without appearing rude. Petrich stood from his chair. The others did not even acknowledge her exit.
        The Duchess made small talk about the gardens. The Duke made small talk about military life. Petrich only marginally knew about either of them, but navigated each with clever responses to questions. By the end of the meal, both host and hostess seemed satisfied, much to Petrich's relief.
       "Bravo, Master Hollenburg!" Duchess Amelia congratulated, her voice somewhere in the darkness.
        Petrich turned from where he stood just completing his preliminary star reading out in the garden.  He saw the Duchess approach along a path lit with an occasional gas lantern. 
         "Good evening, Your Grace," Petrich greeted her, jotting down the last of his measurements in his leather bound journal.
        "I am sure you are wondering what role you shall play the next meal you sit with my husband."
        Petrich chuckled with good nature. "No longer than I was going to be here, I didn't see any point in demeaning my gracious host."
        "Yes. . . We have enough morsels of scandal without a side helping of embarrassment."
        "I take it I was playing the role of the Earl of Lutzinheim."
The Duchess lit a cigarette. "Yes. And you wrangled it beautifully. Is there anything you can't do, High Mystic Hollenburg?"
"I am not for certain I am comfortable with that title, Your Grace."
"Oh, I know you're not. You are just as my husband the Duke said. Too modest, but awfully clever."
Petrich looked into the distance at the garçonniere hidden in the shadows. One lonely gas lamp lit up the door.
"According to the Duke, the Earl took residence in the garçonniere."
"Yes." said the Duchess shortly, "The Duke my husband took quite a liking to my daughter-in-law's cousin who was stationed with the military nearby. He visited here once and between my husband and my son's wife, they conspired to have him visit during furloughs. The garçonniere saw his presence many times until he was stationed elsewhere. Soon after that, the Lady Lydia was with child."
Petrich nodded solemnly. "I see."
"You know already, don't you? The truth of who the father is?"
Petrich started to gather his equipment. "No." he answered honestly. "The star charting in and of itself tells me nothing until I make my calculations and draft the document. That will be days away."
"But what of your so-called visions? Surely THEY tell you something." the Duchess replied with an edge of irritability in her voice.
"Visions? You are assuming I even have them."
"Yes, I suppose I am." She pointed at the garçonniere with the cigarette between her index and middle fingers, "I'm willing to wager you'd see plenty in there. They were forever forgetting the time in THERE."
"Hmm." Was the only comment Petrich gave, with next to no interest. Although since being near the garçonniere with Lady Lydia earlier that day, he felt drawn to it. Almost compelled to go inside. It was distracting him as he took his star measurements. And now the Duchess was luring him.
          Then she was taking him by the hand and leading him closer to the garçonniere. Then she was opening the door with an ominous creak, and then closing it behind them. 
What am I doing here?? Petrich's thoughts screamed, hearing his own breath quicken and hearing his heartbeat in his ears.
           He did not feel like himself, he felt as if he were someone else and that someone was too frightened to move.  He wanted to cry and scream at the same time. A rabbit cornered by some much bigger beast.
         Then he was being kissed on the mouth, deeply. It was suffocating. He turned his head away, but then the lips went to his neck and hands were opening his shirt and the phantom mouth kissed his chest. The hands unbuckled his belt, unfastened his trousers. One of the hands expertly slipped inside and boldly began to stroke him.
         The mouth whispered in his ear. "You know you've wanted this for a very long time. I'll make it feel so good, Lydia. Just let me."
         No! No! Julian! Please! Please no!! a voice in his head cried out.
         Suddenly, Petrich caught his breath in a gasp and found he could finally move.  He firmly held the Duchess at arm's length, then turned his back to her.
        "Oh, come now, Petrich." Duchess Amelia purred, placing a hand on his back. "Your body wanted more. I could feel it. I'll make it feel so good. . ."
        "He forced himself on her." Petrich said, without turning around.
         "Who? Oh. . . Is THAT what she tried to tell you??"
         Petrich turned and looked at her. "She told me nothing. I had a vision. Lady Lydia was raped."
           "Well! As much as she just HAD to have him here as much as she did. . ."
          "No." Petrich interrupted. "Do not dare say she deserved it. He was someone she trusted. He took advantage of her."
"The Earl is the father then."
"No, not necessarily."
"He BEST not be."
"Remember the condition of our contract, Your Grace." Petrich reminded her.
"Humph!" Duchess Amelia crossed her arms and exited the garçonniere. "All I know is MY family fortune will most certainly NOT be given to a bastard!"
           Petrich followed and closed the door. He still felt more than a bit shaken by the ordeal.
         "You know," Petrich said thoughtfully, "I find myself trusting you less and less, Your Grace, which could be grounds for termination of the commission contract."
          "No!" said the Duchess, horrified.
          "And why not?" Petrich challenged, "Would it be frowned upon by the many you've told that you'll have a Petrich Hollenburg original document hanging in your home soon? But now you will not? The Lord your son believes that is the only reason why you hired me. So even HE doesn't know the truth of your motives, much less the child's own mother, who seems to have been through far too much for one so young."  Petrich walked over to his equipment he had readied to bring inside. "How am I to trust you to follow through on our agreement that there will be no L'enfant Oublies if the child is proven illegitimate? Illegitimate birth from a rape??" Petrich shook his head dismally. "Let us just sign a contract to dissolve the commission and be done with it all. Hmm? Surely even YOUR friends will forget about the time you commissioned the seemingly 'High Mystic Hollenburg', but they will NEVER forget the L'enfant Oublies that will forever mark your family as archaic and brutal to the bitter end."
        The Duchess glared at him and if she had been close enough, Petrich believed she would have slapped his face. But instead she merely turned her back to him and marched back along the lit path to the mansion.