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* Catreenia walks to the dressmaker's salon, taking advantage of a brief break in the weather to get some fresh air and calm her nerves. She glances at one of the ubiquitous wanted posters on the way and turns her face away quickly, biting her lip. <Catreenia> ::The dressmaker's is a small, upscale place in one of the residential districts-- probably the reason it escaped the worst of the looting. Cat pulls her black shawl a little closer around her shoulders, slowing her steps as they get nearer, giving Dusk ample time to look around.:: * Dusk eyes the posters darkly, his fingers flexing ever-so-slightly. Otherwise, he maintains his facade as Cat's servant/bodyguard, hovering just behind her left shoulder. * Catreenia approaches the door and pauses, nodding permission for Dusk to open it for her. * Dusk looks around, then opens the door, peering through suspiciously before stepping back for Cat to enter. * Catreenia nods to Dusk and passes breezily over the threshold, shedding her shawl to drape it casually over one arm. She glances around the shop as she waits for the dressmaker to finish with her customer. * Dusk follows her in, then takes up a position near the door, his dark eyes darting from person to person and shadow to shadow unceasingly. <Catreenia> ::After perhaps ten minutes-- no doubt 9 minutes longer than it took Dusk to become thoroughly bored-- the dressmaker approaches Cat, her attitude proving that money means something still in certain parts of the city. She brings out several dresses ranging from day-wear to one gown fit for a formal ball, displaying them and explaining cut and fabric choices with Cat:: * Catreenia nods, fingering the skirts of one gown. With a glance at Dusk, she retires briefly to a changing-room, accompanied by a tiring-woman carrying one of the gowns. She emerges again quickly and gets up on a small platform to allow the dressmaker to make her adjustments. * Dusk scowls as she enters the changing-room and moves towards it. He looks much relieved as she emerges, but he takes up a new position near the door of the changing-room. <Catreenia> ::glancing at Dusk:: My apologies, Mistress, for any inconvenience to your ladies... thanks to my late husband, Dustin is quite assiduous in his job. <Duncan> ::the dressmaker's is situated across the street from a luxurious manor house. Visible through the large window of the shop, a man can be seen riding up to the house on a fine black horse.:: * Catreenia admires her reflection in the dressmaker's mirror. The deep red dress flatters her figure perfectly, a flash of white lace at the neckline drawing attention to her charms without revealing overmuch. Cat sighs. "I wish I could wear this one home... I *am* tiring so of black..." * Catreenia turns so the dressmaker can pin the hem and stares out the window at the mounted man. * Catreenia slides her eyes towards Dusk, one eyebrow raising the barest fraction. * Dusk nods similarly slightly. <Duncan> ::a harried looking servant in an undyed coat hurries out of the manor, hastily assisting the man to dismount. A pair of servants on somewhat less grand horses follow the man and leap from their mounts. The first man snaps something with a brusk gesture and the servant turns to lead the horse away. The man smacks the horse with his crop and then laughs as the servant is nearly run over by the anxious animal:: * Catreenia cocks her head, muffling a bored yawn as she stares out the window. "Who is that living across the way, Mistress? I understood that the orcs had taken all the grander houses for their own use?" <Dressmaker> Major Duncan's taken that house for his use, ma'am. As I understand it, he is the commander of the mercenary units in town. <Catreenia> ::makes a noncommittal noise:: He seems to have fine taste in clothes and horseflesh, for a mercenary. <Duncan> ::another servant comes out, carrying a leather satchel. With a bow low enough to be called genuflection, he offers the satchel to the major:: * Catreenia glances down at the women measuring and pinning around her. "Are we nearly done? I've another appointment at 1, and I hope to find a spot of lunch first." * Duncan opens the satchel and begins flipping through what are obviously dispatches. He looks around and barks an order. Hastily, the servant runs into the house and comes out a moment later carrying a heavy chair. The major sits down and continues to read. <Catreenia> ::one of the dressmaker's ladies looks up:: Nearly finished here, mum... ::she glances out the window herself, following Cat's gaze:: The major has the best of everything, mum... fine clothes, horses... food and art, I hear, as well. Nothing but the best for *him.* <Catreenia> ::sounding musing:: Really...? * Catreenia twirls once, eyeing herself in the mirror as the dressmaker and her women straighten and step back. "Oooh... I can't wait to wear it! I thank you for your skill, Mistress. If you could have them ready in... two days?" She steps down from the platform with another glance out the window, retiring briefly to the changing-room again. * Duncan finishes reading one dispatch and snarls in apparent disgust. When another servant approaches from behind the chair, the major practically leaps from his position to clout the man across the ear. * Catreenia returns after a slightly longer pause this time, dressed again in her blacks. Her hair is up this time, the braid pinned into an elegant chignon. She nods her thanks to the dressmaker and counts out a deposit on the gowns. "Come, Dustin, I'm hungry." <Duncan> ::the servant cringes and scrambles away from his master. Duncan kicks the man once, then crumples up the dispatch and throws it aside. He snaps another order and then heads into the house. The battered servant stills his trembling then follows, carrying the chair.:: * Dusk follows Cat outside, his face set impassively. * Catreenia lingers outside the door of the dressmaker's shop, looking up and down the street as if deciding upon her next errand. After a moment, she crosses the street and heads up it, past the Major's house. She turns her head curiously to study the handsome mansion and grounds. * Duncan comes back out a few minutes later, having changed his coat and boots from riding gear to something more elegant. He is only barely out the door when a handsome carriage is pulled around the front, the driver's livery still askew from an obviously hurried dressing. * Catreenia subtly picks up her pace a little to be close to the gate as the mercenary captain is ready to roll through it. She smiles wistfully, a little sadly perhaps, as she admires the carriage and horses. * Duncan steps into his carriage. "The Platter." He flips his hat onto one of the seats and settles himself. <Duncan> ::the driver nods and jingles the reins. The horses step out lively at a trot:: * Catreenia heaves a sigh and continues on her way to be clear of the man's gate before he exits. Her attention, however, is on the horses rather than her feet. Before she can reach the opposing curb, she slips on a wet cobblestone and goes down with a cry of surprise, still half in the drive. <Duncan> ::the driver jerks on the reins, startled, as the woman sprawls in front of the carriage, throwing the major around in the carriage:: * Dusk leaps to pull Cat back to her feet and out of the drive. * Duncan roars with anger from inside the carriage. "What jack-be-damned nonsense is this? Where'n hell did you learn to drive?" He jerks up the shade on the far side of the carriage and notices the woman. * Catreenia leans heavily on Dusk, breathing hard, turning to look back at the carriage with wide eyes. Her hair has fallen loose from its elegant knot and half-covers one side of her face as she regards Duncan and his carriage fearfully. <Duncan> Well... now... what have we here? ::he looks at the disheveled woman:: * Dusk stands Catreenia upright, and resumes his impassive stance. <Catreenia> ::shivering a little as she pulls her shawl closer around her shoulders:: Y-your pardon, sir, the rain-- I slipped. ::she nods politely to him, brushing a bit of mud off her skirts with a sigh and pushing her hair clear of her eyes:: I'm alright, I think; I do hope you were not discomfited. * Duncan eyes her and her black dress. "Come here." He opens the door of the carriage and drops the step down. * Catreenia approaches the carriage, regarding him wide-eyed. She glances fleetingly at her bodyguard. "Dustin, it's alright." * Dusk ignores his mistress's reassurances and follows her to the carriage. He does not enter, but mounts the step behind her to keep a close watch. * Duncan digs through his coat pocket and comes up with a silk handkerchief. "Here." * Catreenia takes the handkerchief from his fingers, blushing faintly. "You are a gentleman, sir. I do apologize for putting you out." She smiles into his eyes. <Duncan> ::snorts, meeting her gaze for just a moment:: Least I can do with m'damn fool driver nearly running you over. * Catreenia widens her eyes a little, staring into his with an amused smile. "I'm not certain a chauffeur's training typically includes an obstacle course of clumsy females, but I thank you for your courtesy all the same." * Duncan blinks several times and looks a little dazed. "Nonsense. I'm sure it was entirely Renyald's fault, he's a terrible idiot." He glances at Dusk. "Either in or out, tiki." He turns back to Cat. "Would you care to join me for a bit of lunch?" * Dusk blinks once at Duncan, then climbs into the carriage to sit beside Cat. <Catreenia> ::beckons to Dusk, and smiles merrily at Duncan:: Taking a lady to lunch when you do not even have the honor of her name? ::chuckles:: You remind me of my late husband. I would be delighted, thank you. I was just going to look for a spot of lunch. * Duncan raps on the roof of the carriage. "Go on, and try not to run down half the town while you're at it." <Duncan> ::turns to Cat:: And how are you called, then? I insist that all young ladies who are nearly run over by my driver should join me for lunch... <Catreenia> Heavens! Your driver must be truly horrible if you make a habit of this, good sir. ::offering her hand:: Lady Catreenia Hooke. * Duncan takes her hand and bows over it, pressing his lips to her fingers. "A recent widow, ma'am? I am Major Duncan. Or Gervaise, if you'd like to call me familiar." <Duncan> ::the carriage pulls up to a large inn with a hanging sign "Platter of Plenty":: * Catreenia sighs, looking briefly sad, glancing out the carriage window. "My husband died a year ago this coming Tuesday." She nods back towards where they came from. "I was admiring your fine horse earlier; my dressmaker lies just across the way." <Duncan> Quite a while to have an empty bed, my lady Hooke. ::he opens the door and drops the stairs, shooing Dusk out before him and offering Cat his hand:: * Dusk waits at the foot of the carriage steps to assume his place at Cat's shoulder. <Catreenia> ::colors deeply, taking his hand and stepping down carefully:: Well... I'm told a widow isn't supposed to think of such things. But... ::a touch of yearning in her voice:: I still miss him deeply, I'm afraid. I admit to... mixed feelings about my re-entrance to Society. Bastian was so... *different* from nobles I'd met in the past. * Duncan looks a bit wry. "Even widows have needs, m'lady." He tucks her arm in his and leads her to the inn. "A private room." The host bows hastily, obviously recognizing the major from previous visits and hurries away. From the grumbling of some guests, it's obvious that their private room has inconvenienced others. At the sight of the major, however, they quiet their complaints. <Catreenia> ::her cheeks pink:: Well... yes, perhaps. ::sighing and looking a little wry:: Although there's certainly enough to make me hesitant... my husband died in my arms not four days after we were wed, leaving me fairly uneducated in the ways of nobility but with command of the bulk of his estates. ::she shakes her head:: Luckily, he left me with good advisors and guards as well. It's been easier for me to take my year of mourning apart than deal with some of the... vultures who have sought my hand already. ::shivers and glances at Dusk:: * Dusk does not appear to notice her glance in his direction. He stands against the wall of the private room, keeping close watch both on Duncan and on the door. * Duncan murmurs something that sounds both appropriate and uninterested, holding out her chair. Hot bread and garlic mushroom sauce have already been placed on the table. <Catreenia> Ahh... ::smiling again, smoothing her skirts beneath her as she takes her seat and takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of warm rolls:: ... it's good to know that no matter what happens, fine dining will always have an appreciative audience. Although I must admit, I would not have thought the orcs much cared for human haute cuisine. <Duncan> ::shrugs and sits:: They're not all so bad... Besides, I hate cooking for myself. <Catreenia> ::chuckles:: Aye. I fear I'd quickly tire of eggs if I had to suffer my own cooking for longer than a week. My mother quite despairs of me. ::winks:: Luckily, my ordering skills are gourmet-quality. <Duncan> ::the waitress comes in and takes orders, her eyes firmly on the floor. Just under her puffy sleeved shirt, her arms are decorated with black bruises:: * Duncan orders a heavy meal and smirks at the waitress. She catches his eye briefly, then looks back at the floor, her slender shoulders shaking. * Catreenia glances up at the waitress and quickly back down at her menu, perusing the offerings. She orders the seafood selection, and hesitates. "Have you wine, miss?" <Waitress> ::nods hastily:: A bit, left, ma'am. There's some of the white... * Catreenia cocks her head thoughtfully. "What vineyard and year?" <Waitress> I'll go'n check, ma'am. ::she risks a glance at the major:: Supplies are.. being what things are an' all... ::she scurries out of the room:: * Dusk watches the waitress leave, then returns his gaze to the table. * Duncan watches the girl go, a cold gleam in his eyes. <Catreenia> ::sighs, leaning back into her chair:: I do apologize for delaying you, Major... I'm afraid I'm somewhat spoiled when it comes to wine. I grew up in Arabel. It is a shame such a fine restaurant has to cope with such exigencies, but, ah, well. <Duncan> ::shrugs:: This restaurant has given me a few disappointments before. ::he eyes the waitress as she comes in again to give Catreenia a very short list of wines to pick from:: I trust it won't happen again. ::the girl refuses to look at him, flinching:: <Catreenia> Indeed? ::cocking her head to listen to the waitress, and nodding:: The Andello '01 white will suffice, thank you. Oh, and a plate of something-or-other for my man, there, if you would. ::waving her away, turning her attention back to Major Duncan:: The Platter has quite a fine reputation in Marsember, but I'm afraid I'm not very widely travelled. I'm sorry our fair city has offered you disappointments. * The waitress looks at Dusk with wide eyes as she passes him. The light catches just right to show that she has a ringed bruise around her throat, as if someone recently tried to strangle her. <Duncan> ::shrugs again and leans back in his chair to study her over his piece of bread:: Not everything had been disappointing... <Dusk> ::His lips tighten briefly, and one hand twitches as the waitress passes him:: <Catreenia> ::blushes again, meeting his eyes briefly before lowering her own:: I'm glad to hear it. ::sighs a little wistfully:: Perhaps when this is all over, I'll be free to travel more... I should like to see more of the world. Bastian had promised me-- ::sighs again:: Well, fate tells us which promises we may and may not keep, I suppose. ::biting her lip, studying him a little:: The dressmaker told me-- you have something to do with to do with leading the human contingent of this army, Major? Soldiers are always travelling-- would you tell me about the places you've been, a little? <Duncan> ::shrugs:: One place's much the same as any other. The real important stuff is all portable... ::he grins at her:: <Catreenia> ::chuckles:: Aye, but the time and setting to enjoy them is important as well. And art, for instance, is so much a product of its culture... <Waitress> ::the girl comes back carrying a heavy tray. She hands Dusk a bowl of rich cream soup and a plate of bread and cheese before delivering the more gourmet items to the table, along with a decanter of wine:: <Duncan> ::smugly:: Still, it hangs just as nice in my house, as anywhere else. * Dusk nods in thanks to the waitress and begins to eat quickly. <Catreenia> Ah! But see? Place. You still need a house to hang it in. ::winks:: You're fond of art, then? * Duncan picks critically at his food. "Depends on the subject... but it pleases me to have it. Someone's dreams and hopes, captured on canvas... it's very satisfying." * Catreenia spreads pate on a cracker, adds a sliver of smoked cheese, and takes a bite, closing her eyes for a moment in bliss. "Mmm... quite satisfactory." She pats her lips with the napkin. "What fascinates you, then, is the passion of the artist, distilled into his or her work?" * Catreenia takes a sip of wine and loads another cracker. <Duncan> ::nods, watching her eat:: You can always tell the ones who are painting only to get paid... ::he brushes his hand in the air disdainfully:: Pah. But a real artist tears out his very soul to hand it to you... * Catreenia nods, taking another bite. "Yes! That's it exactly. And that something like that could be captured for all time, to last as long as the work survives the ravages of time..." <Duncan> ::from the other room comes the sound of ringing footsteps. A young soldier, perhaps only a year or so older than Cat, enters the room and salutes:: Major! The general wants to see you, right away, sir. * Catreenia looks up at the soldier before turning her gaze to Major Duncan, looking somewhat disappointed and faintly worried. * Duncan sighs. "What does he want?" He pushes his chair back. "Damn northern reports, I'll wager." He turns to Catreenia. "Enjoy your luncheon, m'lady, as a gift. Perhaps, sometime later, you'd care to stop by and view my collection?" <Catreenia> ::blushes:: Oh... I had hoped to treat you, Major, in thanks for your kind company. But yes, if it's no intrusion, I would love to see your artwork. * Duncan gives her a sketchy bow and turns to leave. The young soldier stands aside, then follows hastily. From his position near the door, Dusk can see the major's leavetaking of the waitress. * Catreenia sighs and loads another cracker with pate, her head tilted down towards the table but her eyes shifted over towards Dusk. * Dusk frowns, but watches until the major leaves before closing the door. * Dusk crosses to stand on the opposite side of the room, from which he can easily watch both the door and Cat. * Catreenia glances around quickly as Dusk closes the door, making sure they are indeed private before putting her cracker down and picking up the wine glass instead, taking a deep draught of the crisp vintage. * Dusk raises an eyebrow. * Catreenia puts the glass down with a slightly trembling hand, glancing at the door. "Dustin, could you get the waitress back in here, please? The Major won't be returning to finish his meal, I fear." <Dusk> ::gives her a look, then nods and opens the door to beckon the waitress in:: <Waitress> ::the girl hesitates and comes into the room:: Ma'am? Anythin' else for you? <Catreenia> ::shaking her head:: No, thank you, what I have is quite excellent. But the Major was called away. It would be a shame for such fine food to go to waste; could you set it aside for the waitstaff with my compliments, please? And give me the bill; I couldn't possibly make the Major pay for such a wonderful meal when he barely had time to enjoy it. ::smiles at the girl:: <Waitress> ::bobs her head:: We're glad of it, ma'am, but I can't.. no, ma'am. He said he was t'cover it, and I ain't to making him angry about it. <Catreenia> ::sighs:: Ah, well. No arguing with a gentleman, I'm afraid. ::her hard eyes as she glances at the waitress's arms put an entirely different spin on the comment:: <Waitress> ::with a quick nod:: Not *that* one, t'any rate, ma'am. ::she takes up the major's barely touched lunch and leaves the room:: * Dusk touches the girl's arm to stop her as she is about to leave the room, then lifts a finger to his lips as he slips a tiny canvas pouch of coins into the pocket of her apron. * Catreenia sets to her lunch, pretending to take no notice of the little transaction at the door. * Waitress stares at him for a long moment, her eyes wide, then gives him a quick, trembling smile of gratitude before leaving. <Dusk> ::sighs soundlessly and closes the door again:: * Catreenia makes quick work of her meal, one hand disappearing briefly under the table as she picks up her napkin and wipes her lips with the other hand. There's a quick glint of gold and a slither of metal before she drops the napkin to one side of her plate, hiding whatever she placed there. * Dusk folds his arms over his chest to watch Cat finish her meal, waiting. * Catreenia finishes her wine and stands. "Ready, Dustin?" Her hand smooths her skirts, fingers moving briefly against the black. {I'm glad Angel's not here. I'm ready to do this jackal myself.} <Dusk> {I've been ready. But - if I may speak as a man - you are not going to keep his interest long if you do not change your tactics.} <Catreenia> {You mean sometimes you speak as a-- no, we're not having *that* conversation again.) She looks wry, and gathers her shawl around her shoulders with one hand. {I'm not trying to keep his interest with my tactics. I'm trying to keep him out of my skirts. I've already *got* his interest in spades.} <Dusk> ::looks dubious:: {It's your power. But he looked *bored* to me, toward the end. I know you do not want him in your skirts - but you have to make him think you want him there, or at least are giving it serious consideration.} <Catreenia> ::sighs a little, walking slowly towards the door:: {Aye... so much for appealing to his *mind*. Least we know why the whores didn't interest him... he doesn't want to pay for a fake. He wants it real, and he enjoys taking it.} <Dusk> ::grimaces and nods:: {I will not allow anything to happen that you do not consent to.} ::He lifts a hand to show a dart concealed there, winks, then reassumes his impassive mask before opening the door for her:: * Catreenia exits the room, patting Dusk's arm absently as one might pet the head of a dog, but the brief glance she gives him is grateful. "Come, Dustin, the milliner's awaits..." |
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