The Dancer

Chapter 3

Lunette woke up to the sun peering through her window and the smell of her favorite tea brewing. She smiled to herself.  She told Dax he didn't have to cook for her. Dax, Daxton Gilloroy, was her coach driver and house servent. He was a tall lean Irishman with a mop of red hair and a toothy simpletons grin. He had a genuine heart and would surely give his life for Lunette. She had given him work, quarters to reside in, and an handsome wage to serve her needs.
She glided out bed into her red house slippers and walked over to the kitchen area. Dax had made her breakfast and prepared tea for her.
"Dax you know you don't..." Lunette started.
"It's my pleasure Madam Devereux." He cut her off mid sentence with a smile.
"Well thank you, kind Sir." Lunette sat neatly on her chair, reaching for the fresh hot cup of tea. It was too early for her to fight him on calling her by her first name or preparing meals for her. Dax was a good man but could never be her husband. She loved him and his bright blue eyes but could never see him like that despite his effort.
"Where can I take you today Ms Devereux?" Taking a bite of toast and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
"I have some business with Tremé. I feel the urge to walk today. Thank you for the offer and the wonderful arrangement this morning. You can give Louis a proper bath if you wish." Lunette said politely.
"Alright now Ms Devereux, I'll give Louis a bath straight away." Dax chimed as he hustled out to the horse stables.
Claude Tremé was the owner of most of the land around the Quarter. He would allow free blacks and poor whites to use part of his land to work for his profit. Lunette had a managed a deal from Tremé to build her house just inside the small French quarter, she did not want to be involved in the poor community. Payment used to be in the form of her talents but now she was able to pay him money for her dues. Tremé had become somewhat of a friend and business companion, he had some news for her so they set to meet later in the day.
Lunette finished eating and cleaned her dishes. Then made her way back to her room, her only place of solitude. She surround herself with the best the world could offer. The walls hung famous art and the windows were draped with finest cloth from India. Her bed was canopied with white linen and the smell of lavender blessed the air.
She sauntered around the room to her wardrobe. Every move she made seemed magical, her muscles waltzed and her feet almost floated. It would appear a viewer's eye that she was danced across the floor.
Opening the heavy doors she picked out a dress, one only worn a handful of times before. She slipped out of her night dress and into the expensive fabric. It bellowed at the bottom, tapered up to her waist, and was cut sharply low in the front exposing her very ample bosom. She glided in front of her gold embellished mirror and unknotted her hair from a braid. The blond waves flowed naturally past her breast, a key part of her private performances.
With a hit of lipstick, Lunette was off to see Tremé.