Once Upon A Time...

there was a Lonely Maiden who lived in a land ruled by a stupid and greedy man. (Isn't that a wonderful beginning?) The Maiden was tired of life in that land. She was bored with her neighbors, who never looked beyond their own small lives, and she was frustrated by the ruler, who cared nothing for the wellfare of his people. She had no friends to speak of, and her only family was her brother, Barley. He was a good man, but had his own life and family, and so paid little heed to his sister. She decided to leave.

The Maiden was neither rich nor beautiful, but she was smart, hard-working, and adventurous, and so she arranged passage on a great sailing ship that would take her far, far away. She sailed many oceans and saw many wonderous things, until finally she arrived in the land of the Earl of Grey. She knew no one in this strange land, and had few personal posessions. She began to look for work.

The Maiden walked up and down the high street, knocking on doors and inquiring for work. She could do almost anything, she told the people. Most everyone was extremely polite, extremely friendly, and extremely unhelpful. At the end of the street she knocked on a grand door attached to the front of a very grand house. A very Grand Lady with a strange accent answered her knock. The Maiden explained her situation and asked if there was any work to be done in the house. The Grand Lady became excited and told the Maiden that she was badly in need of a governess for her two children. The Maiden peered past the lady into the house, which was painted a deep and warm plum color inside, set off with the softest shade of seafoam green. She knew the Grand Lady must be caring and wise and have outstanding interior decorating skills, so she accepted the post at once. She was given her own flat in the basement from which she could come and go as she pleased when she wasn't minding the children.

The Lonely Maiden settled into her new life quickly and cheerfully. She made friends, enjoyed working with her charges, who were both clever and well-behaved, and the climate agreed with her. She almost never got homesick, and then only briefly (usually after a trip to the market where she bemoaned the lack of rootbeer, Miracle Whip, and graham crackers, none of which were available for purchase in this oddest of places).

Having deposited her young charges at school one fine morning, she chaced to meet a Gentleman in the high street as she walked home. He was tall, very tall - 6 feet 2 if he was an inch - and well dressed. He tipped his tophat and wished the maiden a good morning, and she saw that his head was adorned with golden blonde Apollonine ringlets. He was beautiful. He seemed terribly familiar to the Maiden, and she couldn't help but feel that she knew him, though she was certain they had never before met.

He continued on his way, and she on hers. The image of the man haunted her waking dreams, and she found herself silently praying whenever she went out that she would see him in the street. Her prayers were answered. The Lonely Maiden and the Gentleman saw each other frequently, and slowly became more familiar. He was excruciatingly polite. She had never before encounted such manners. His highly polished shoes and airs practically made him an anacronism, and the Lonely Maiden was charmed.

The Maiden (not quite so lonely now) learned that the Gentleman, like herself, was far from home, but unlike herself, was a person of means. He was an aristocratic second son, out to seek his fortune and find life and all that jazz. Despite the superb breeding which resulted in the aristocratic, aquiline nose the Gentleman used for daily wear (his formal nose being even more aquiline and aristocratic), he was far from a snob. He was, in fact, rather egalitarian, and seemed content to share a pint at the pub where the Maiden and the rest of the unwashed masses congregated after tea. He made no pretense whatsoever of superiority, though it was not uncommon for the commoners to defer to his perceived rank. The Maiden was quite taken with him.

At first their enounters were purely by chance, but slowly they began to develop a sense of one another's routeins. Before long, the Gentleman was going out of his way to wish the Maiden a pleasant evening at the end of each day. One afternoon, the Gentleman called upon her at her flat. She invited him in for tea, and despite her thrill at his attention and the butterflies doing acrobactics in her g.i. tract, she felt relaxed and very much at ease in his company. He had a warm and calming manner that soothed and reassured her.

Months passed. The Gentleman's visits became regular, and he and the Maiden became close friends. She told him all about the land of her birth, a place the Gentleman despised for its reputation, but he did not seem to hold her origins against her. She told him all about her brother and her previous life as a master pruner of ornamental trees and shrubs. He listened with interest and asked prompting questions, but spoke little of his own life. The Maiden tried to draw him out, but he was... shy? Secrative? It was hard to tell. He didn't seem embarassed by his past, nor did he appear to be concealing something sinister, but after every conversation, the Maiden felt she had revealed a great deal more than she learned. She was not frightened by his overdeveloped sense of privacy, but rather intruigued, and her attraction to him grew stronger.

One evening as the Maiden was returning home from the market, she saw the Gentlman coming towards her in the High Street, just as he had the first day she saw him. The memory of that first encounter warmed her cheeks and her breast. She smiled broadly and waved, but the Gentlman ignored her. She looked more closely and saw that his eyes were unfocused and he staggerd slightly as he walked. His grey-gloved hand was clutching his stomach over his tailored waistcoat. He was very ill. She dropped her basked in the street and ran to him. His legs buckled just as she reached him, and she lunged and caught him by his armpits. She helped him to support his weight as he trudged feebly back to his bachelor flat on the ritzy side of town.

She took his key from his pocket and helped him in. She had never seen the inside of his flat before, and was startled by its spartan furnishings. Everthing present was very nice, but there was little furniture besides the barest of necessities. Furthermore, there was nothing personal or homey about the place. One can usually tell a great deal about a person by examining the space they create around themselves - art, books, upholstry, etc. - but the Gentleman's appartment reavealed as little about his personality as did his conversations.

Ignoring the queer setting, the Maiden helped the Gentleman to his bedroom and laid him on the bed. He seemed barely aware of her presence. She removed his jacket, waistcoat, necktie and shoes, and pulled the covers over him. His cheeks were flushed and he flopped his head from side to side on the pillow. She felt his forehead and realized he was burning with fever. Suddenly he rolled onto his side and retched. His clothing and bed linens were covered with vomit. "Thank god he's delerious," thought the Maiden, "or he would be mortified to know what I'm about to do," and she deftly and effeciently stripped the bed and the patient. She quickly located pyjamas, but it took her some time to find clean linens. When all was sorted, she put a cool compress on the Gentleman's forehead and gathered up the soiled clothes and linens for washing.


To be continued...


(Note from the Author: This is a terrible place to leave off, with no dramatic value whatsoever. I'm tired, however, and there won't be a good cliff-hanging bit for some time, and I don't want to stay up to write that much. I could save as a draft and finish it later, but it's been so long since I posted anything remotely readable, I feel compelled to publish what I've got so far. I hope you like it, because it's going to be quite the epic. Not on a "My Best Friend's Wedding: A Trilogy in Five Parts" scale, but epic for me. Just wait til you get to the bits about the Dashing Rogue and the dying brother...)