And then I recall when we first met

[Caoimhe]

Caoimhe was not sure what to make of the governess. She was kind of surprised that he didn’t do such things for himself, but then again it was another world. She could not really concern herself with all of that. She almost wanted to ask him if he could not do that himself, and if he had events to attend then why was he out walking the streets? Well actually she guessed at the latter if he was hiring her. Obviously a governess was not a whore, they still had to go out to get those, though she knew that some men kept mistresses. She was not of that class.

She wondered where everyone else seemed to be. It was very empty for an inn after all. Still she was not here to examine the place though it was nice. It was a far cry nicer than her building, and much cleaner. She peered up the stairs, waiting for him to come over, and almost jumped when he appeared next to her. She darted up the stairs after him, following him down the hallway.

She was impressed with the room, it was a nice one in her eyes. She didn’t see it as mostly bare. When he said that it would do she nodded. ”Aye sir, if you wish.” She went straight to her purpose. First off were her shoes and then the over dress. Her hands undid the buttons deftly and she rolled her shoulders, letting it fall off. She stepped out of it and then removed some petticoats. Finally she started to work on unlacing her corset. ”Sorry, this should only take but a minute.”

[Valere Laurent]

Straight to the task Valere crossed the room with three strides of his long legs. He tucked his charcoal stick behind one ear, leaving a light black streak across his temple. The sketchbook was stuffed gently into the back of his breeches, and he loosened the suspenders from his shoulders. They fell limp at his sides improving his comfort by some small degree. He took hold of the chaise with both hands easily dragging the furniture forward. Like a mad man he pushed the lounge around several times, stepping back after each adjustment to survey the way the light fell on the seat. After several long moments he was satisfied with the lighting and stood to admire the effect.

Behind him Caoimhe mumbled, recalling his purpose to mind. Turning his blue eyes to the girl he stood transfixed. A long breath whistled through his teeth. He was blissfully unaware of what was happening for a fraction of a second. Then the blood rushed to his face... amongst other places. "Now mademoiselle! Stop! Oh, Lord in Heaven!" Covering his eyes with a slender hand he reached out with the other to steady himself. "Your clothes!" Words tumbled through his mind, broken thoughts burst through his lips. Nothing made sense. A gust of wind would have toppled the lad.

"Draw! I draw. I just draw." Still covering his eyes he collapsed onto the chaise and yanked the book from behind him. Waving the leather-bound pages he mumbled again, "You are pretty, you are. I like your eyes. I just wanted to draw." Letting the book fall to the floor he put his elbows to his knees and held his head in his palms.

[Caoimhe]

Caoimhe hated the corsets but they were a necessity in order to keep her dresses on. She had found that many of them were loose enough to be difficult on their own. Such other pieces held them in place on her body. It was a hot and heavy mess of cloth in the summer but she couldn’t exactly walk around stark naked or in just her shift. All the same it took so much time to get in and out of that it almost wasn’t worth it at all. While she undressed she heard him dragging about the furniture, though she couldn’t think of a purpose or a reason as to why he would. Well, to each their own, she was here to serve and then be paid.

She continued on her merry way and had the corset pretty much unlaced. That was until a startled cry from the man startled her in turn. She stopped, as he had commanded, and looked over at him. The sight was one to behold. She had never seen such a display from a man in front of her like this. She was honestly shocked by it. Caoimhe stood there for a moment, stunned and too none plus-ed to figure out what he wanted. When he made mention of her clothes she did though. She hurriedly pulled them back on as best she could, given how ripped the dress was now.

Once that was done she carefully approached the chaise that he had fallen onto. She picked up the book off the ground and gently put it in his lap. Then she reached over and just as carefully pulled his hand away from his eyes. “I’m dressed, see, I am.” She moved over to the bed and sat down on it if he wanted to draw so be it. She had frightened the poor boy half to death it seemed, she as good as owed it to him now. “There, that’s better now isn’t it?

[Valere Laurent]

Oh, the horror of being Valere. A man of sensitive nature he had struggled all his life to conform to his father's ideal of a 'true gentleman'. Gentle the lad was, but he would never be the hunting, fishing, brawny outdoorsy sort. He would always be a coy, innocent boy with a blush on his cheeks and an awkward smile on his lips. So naive, in fact, that he often ended up in predicaments such as these. He believed all people good, and failed to realize that only a special sort of woman would follow a strange man into a rented room with only the promise of money to lead her.

He was ashamed at his latest misunderstanding, for leading the woman on in such a manor, and for seeing a woman so nearly undressed. With a few deep breaths he managed to calm himself while Caoimhe hustled back into her dress. Fingering a tear in the cover of his sketchpad he let his bangs shield his eyes from the rest of the room. “I-I apologize profusely. I must seem like a child throwing a tantrum.” Still unable to meet the woman's eyes he stared blindly into the distance. “Please, forgive my foolishness. I would hate you to think me ungentlemanly. I meant no offense to you, the mistake was on my part.”

Standing on wobbling knees he paced a slow circle around the room. “When I offered to pay you for a favor, I should have realized how unsavory I sounded. I meant only to draw you, mademoiselle. And I will certainly pay you well for modeling for me.”

Clearing his throat he let his eyes dart once to her face. Finding no enmity there gave him a small dose of courage. “If you would sit there for me, I would be grateful.” He nodded to the chaise lounge. There the filtered light from the arch window would brighten her face, making her details easily captured by his pen.

[Caoimhe]

Caoimhe was not sure what to say to Valere, or whether or not to say anything at all. The poor boy had been stricken by what she was, though he was not a boy. He looked to be a few years older than her. She felt terrible about him right now, especially over the fact that she had so clearly horrified the young man. She didn’t mean to, she simply hadn’t understood what he had wanted of her. She thought that he had wanted what they all wanted. Had she managed to somehow misrepresent herself? She did not think that she had done so but she could be wrong. Still what man could be so misled by her sorts.

She could only redress so much after all, given the rip to the back of her dress. She was slightly uncomfortable because of all of that. She looked up when he started to speak to her with only a slightly furrowed brow, and it was out of attentive concern. What should she be saying to him. Instead she simply shook her head. “This would be my fault sir. You are certainly the most gentlemanly man who has ever asked me up into a room.” And certainly the least demanding she could not help but add in her head. She almost made herself smile with that but she managed to resist that

She was confused when he talked about how crude it seemed that he should ask her up here. Did he not understand that this was how she made a living? Did he fail to understand that? She didn’t see how that was possible for him. She simply looked confused and walked over to the chaise lounge, sitting and waiting for him to tell her to go.

Her expression, confused and unsure as she was, tended to waver.

[Valere Laurent]

For all the emotions running through him Valere could seem them mirrored in the pretty blonde's face. All except for the embarrassment that seemed to haunt his every move. She seemed as uncertain in this moment as he was. How odd that two such different people could coexist in the same world with no real knowledge to the lifestyle of the other. With the ignorance of the wealthy Valere chose not to delve his thoughts into question of the young ladies profession. He was not stupid by any means, but he was not willing to judge another person either. She was whatever she was, and that was no concern of his.

"Thank you for you kindness," Accepting even the lightest of compliments was foreign to Valere. In his world nice words were very rare, and when they were spoken it was always to one of his siblings, never him. "However, I cannot see how the blame would be yours. I do believe the majority of the misunderstanding was on my part, and what little was yours could have been remedies had I been more forward with an explanation of my intentions." How was it that this girl could make him speak so freely? Valere had never held such a long conversation with anyone. Not even Emm. Between their walk to the Inn and their short stint upstairs he had been speaking rather consistently. An unusual occurrence to say the least.

Valere sat on the edge of the bed, propping his sketchpad on one knee. "Now hold still for a few moments, I'll sketch out your face..." He pressed the charcoal pen to the crisp white paper, forming lines that seemed random at first. But after a few moments they connected, revealing the outline of her lips, then eyes, finally coming together as a full image of her face. "There now, you can talk if you like." His eyes flitted between the model and the page as he began to sketch in the tendrils of her hair.

[Caoimhe]

Caoimhe knew better than to speak while he was sketching the way that he was. She had see some families having portraits done in the parks before, and so she knew to hold still. All the same it was so strange for someone to want to draw her. She did have a few benefits in her profession that might have been the cause of it. She did not look like she had been spent already, like she was an alley hag. She still looked young, she still looked lively as far as she knew. At least she attributed that to her looks as it certainly was not her mouth. She talked far too much.

She let him blame himself, though it was unfair of her to do. Still she could not help but feel bad about what happened to him, it was unbelievable that he should make such a mistake. He was clearly a difference sort of person from that which she had come across before. She could not stand to think about that for long, she was far too frightened of the possibility of who he might be. Perhaps he was putting this on for her benefit. Perhaps she would find herself with her throat slit lying on the floor. She knew that her features that were put off by her disposition might arise now. These would be the dark circles under her eyes or the sharpness of the cheek bones. She had to work to keep herself awake now that she wasn’t moving, exhausted as she was.

“Valere, you have not been around a prostitute before, have you sweet?” She used the term of endearment to relax him if it did. She yawned a little and let her head drop back against the chaise lounge. She laid still for a moment and her breathing slowed. Soon enough Caoimhe was fast asleep.

[Valere Laurent]

The charcoal flew across the page in long elegant lines broken with shorter dashes here and there. With a fluid motion of the wrist he traced out guidelines to help establish her physical proportions before returning to her face. There he began to detail the definition of her jaw and added the first soft tendrils of her hair.

For a few moments he sketched in silence. When Caoimhe spoke his pen stopped so that he would not make a mistake while answering her question. Again the strong blush crossed his cheek. Smiling lightly he stared at the page, "I have, if you would believe it." This was not the first time Valere had seen a woman on the street and decided to draw her. On two previous occasions he had drawn portraits of street walkers. In those instances he had taken them to the Square. If he had known from the beginning Caoimhe had been amongst their numbers he would have likely taken her there as well. Amongst his family his reputation was tarnished, not that he was overly concerned. However they liked to berate him and if they knew what he was doing now, and with whom, they would surely fly into a rage.

"I must seem like a madman to you," Valere bit his lip knowing that he seemed like a madman to most people, "or at the very least a naive fool..." Glancing upward Valere realized he was speaking to thin air. Caoimhe had fallen asleep. Smiling to himself he continued the sketch.

An hour passed while Valere sketched and Caoimhe slept. Nonetheless he finished the portrait much sooner than expected. Her gentle curves were easily depicted. The only challenge was detailing her eyes. They were beautiful, almond shaped and vibrant. He struggled to perfect their shape and was unwilling to wake her to refresh his mental picture. Soon enough he was satisfied that they were correct and held the sketchpad at arms length to take in the full effect.

For a while he sat watching the blond sleep. His mind was far away, wishing the world were a different sort of place. Art was his passion. If allowed to pursue his talent he could have improved the lives of women like Caoimhe tenfold. He had no doubt his paintings would sell, and he could pay a royalty to the models he depicted. But his family would never allow it. A painter in the family would be a black mark.

Shaking himself back to reality Valere rose from the bed. Somewhere downstairs he heard quiet shuffling. If the girl was this tired she was certainly hungry as well. He left the room for a few moments to track down one of the servants. Several rooms away an Italian woman was busily changing the bedspread. He ordered a tray of cheese, bread, and soup brought up to the room.