Gehenna - Ode to Persephone - Chapter Two "A Grand Entrance"

Chapter Two

A Grand Entrance

The lights in the grand dining room of the Chateau de la Chevre D’or were as blinding as daylight, as if those in charge of the hotel found a way to bring the sun inside for the night along with their guests. And, just as the outside of the great structure had been updated to match the opulence and splendor of these new times, so had the interior. A grand orgy of evidence that if you were a world traveling sort of person with lots of money to burn they would prefer you burn it here. Burn it, eat it, drink it, bathe in it. They cared not. As long as you were giving them a share for the pleasure of facilitating your debauchery, their attitude was, “It’s the 20’s! Anything Goes!”

Evangeline found herself sitting, as she usually did these days around this time, at a table much too large for two people with her employer and constant companion, Mrs. Fortescue. A lady of nearly sixty who felt the need to play the part of mutton dressed as lamb to the fullest extent possible. A look complete with a loud low cut blazing red dress and a frizzy bottle red bob she said was to match, but clearly that was not the case. Evangeline feared she would surely get a migraine if she continued to look at her under these harsh lights which only served to accentuate every crag and wrinkle her once beautiful skin now possessed. It was times like these she reminded her of one of those Variety performances where men would parade around on stage dressed as women. A parody of womanhood.

Evangeline only hoped she would never find herself succumbing to the same fate to which this poor woman was doomed. The fate of spending the rest of her life going to exotic places to hunt down wealthy widowers and divorcees unfortunate enough to make their way into the clutches of her spider’s web. Only to be tossed away at some later date, after she drained them of all of their money, and any other bits she found useful.

“A girl’s gotta make a living somehow,” Mrs. Fortescue would always quip. A philosophy that Evangeline didn’t believe was enough to excuse the extent of her depraved misuse of others. However, as long as the Misses had some kind of income, so would she. Until such a time as the old bat was no longer kicking, of course. Depending on the day, Evangeline wasn’t entirely certain whether she would like that to sooner or later. But with a woman of Mrs. Fortescue’s age and reputation, one could never be too sure. Evangeline was sure, however, no matter what happened there would certainly be others after her. So she would not have to worry too much about finding work; especially, in a place like this.

Mrs. Fortescue sighed loudly and puckered out her bottom lip. “What’s happened to this place? Hmm? Do you think the management will give me a discount?” She complained. “I mean, what do they think I come here for, to look at waiters and bellhops? Though, I will have to say that one is pretty cute.” She leered in the direction of a young waiter in a gray uniform, that Evangeline realised was far too form fitting for her sensibilities.

Evangeline looked down at her scattered seafood salad that she only had the appetite to chase around her plate, to avert her eyes from the nicely crafted behind of the young man that seemed to be aware Mrs. Fortescue was admiring him so intently. She could feel her cheeks becoming flushed and red. Closing her eyes, Evangeline tried to concentrate on the taste of the morsel she just placed in her mouth. Hopefully, it would cool down the flames she felt rising into the skin of her face.

“Once upon a time, maybe if I was a few years younger.” Mrs. Fortescue continued. “Or, perhaps not, you know how boys seem to have a thing about women who are old enough to be their mother.”

Evangeline suddenly dropped her fork with a clang much louder than she anticipated as it made contact with her plate, startling her even further. Her eyes felt as if they were about to leap from their sockets. She could not believe Mrs. Fortescue would say such a thing; especially, in a public place, where other people could hear her. Did this woman really possess so little tact?

Mrs. Fortescue returned Evangeline’s obviously strange and distressed expression with a sly smile, before asking, “What, dear? Are you shocked? Well, of course you are.” She lets out a cackle as she returns to shoving shrimp into her open awaiting chasm of horse teeth. Evangeline stared uncomfortably entranced by the sound of squishing and moist squeaking that filled her ears causing her to shutter with disgust.

She looked down once again, trying her best to be invisible. So invisible even that mayhaps Mrs. Fortescue would forget she was there altogether and stop talking to her for the rest of the evening. If only Mrs. Fortescue would see someone she knew and ask them to join them, Evangeline found herself praying silently. At least that way, they could be some kind of buffer between her and this terribly crass woman she had – for whatever reason – chained herself to.

Just then, Mrs. Fortescue’s attention was abruptly caught away from stuffing her face momentarily by someone entering the dining room. Evangeline felt awash with amazement that her prayer was answered quite so quickly. She must have been putting forth a lot more feeling than she anticipated. If only this sort of thing worked when she asked for large sums of money to be falling from the sky, so she could disappear completely from the face of the earth. Oh well, for now she would have to be satisfied with this.

Mrs. Fortescue hurriedly snatched up her pince-nez from out of her bosom opening them with a loud one-handed snap. Peering through them with beady squinted eyes she said, “Now wait a minute, here is somebody. A REAL somebody, and how.” She gasped, suddenly, as if she was amazed to even see them in place like this. “Lucius Azrael. He is the last living owner of Gehenna Castle. You have heard of, Gehenna, haven’t you?” She violently patted Evangeline’s arm in giddy excitement, as she scrambled to pull her compact from her clutch to fluff her hair and check the rest of her appearance. Evangeline restrained the temptation to inform her she would need more than a mirror to save her. Mrs. Fortescue reached into the small handbag, once again, where she retrieved a card and her eyeliner pencil. Then, quickly scribbled what appeared to be an almost unintelligible note.

“Of course,” Evangeline finally acknowledged quietly, as she looked up, suddenly realising he was the very same man she saw out on the beach only a few hours earlier. Snatching up her glass of wine, she buried her nose in it, hoping he wouldn’t notice her. She couldn’t be sure if he had seen her. Hopefully, he didn’t then, and he wouldn’t now.

“He’s been ill, you know?” Mrs. Fortescue rattled on. “They say that he can’t get over his wife’s death. She supposedly drowned in the bay near the castle. Rumor even has it she was carrying their unborn child. So very tragic, isn’t it?” She let out a forlorn and sympathetic sigh. Evangeline was certain it was loud enough for everyone within a hundred miles to hear, and the volume was most likely deliberate.

Mrs. Fortescue clanged loudly on her wine glass to get the attention of a nearby waiter. The same young man she had been gawking at only moments before swiftly came to her side. She slowly handed him the hastily scrawled note and said, “Here, take this to the gentleman over there sitting alone. The one with the Maitre de.” Digging a no doubtably moist bill out from between her breasts with two fingers, she slipped it to the young man – who was doing his best to refrain from looking on her with an expression of utter fear and disgust. Though his face bore a charming smile, one could see he was shuttering behind his eyes. An expression that dared to wash over the whole of his countenance when Mrs. Fortescue added with a pat on his rump, “If you do it quickly, there is more where that came from.” She winked.

Evangeline buried herself further into her glass of wine, hoping somehow it would allow her to shrink in size and drown her. It was the only thing she could think of to save her from enduring the inevitably embarrassing events about to occur. She needed to find some way to escape, but she couldn’t think of anything. Yet, somehow it was like observing a train wreck, the impending horror was simply too terrific to look away from, she was frozen, powerless; watching almost in slow motion as the waiter brought him the note. Evangeline cringed heavily, feeling the sliminess of the discomfort crawl over her skin, as she watched him look in their direction, internally screaming as the waiter pointed to where the note came from. She suddenly got the urge to run over to him, fall to her knees, and beg for forgiveness. Also, to renounce any involvement she had in this situation. But the man from the beach simply looked at her with a slight glint in his eyes. A glimmer that quickly brought a flush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips, which she didn’t understand at all. What was this feeling he suddenly inspired within her? It was magnetic, like some kind of vacuum she couldn’t explain. It was as if they were now the only two people in the room and time and space had ceased to exist around them. However, this feeling was short lived, giving her no time to inspect it any further; due to Mrs. Fortescue’s great talent for crashing into situations like a wrecking ball.

“Persephone,” Evangeline’s thoughts were shattered even more by the sound of her employer’s voice. “That is what they called her… his wife, that is. She was a real beauty.” Mrs. Fortescue admired herself in her compact, before casting a quick side glance towards Evangeline. “But then again, weren’t we all at one time?’ She winked, clapping the compact shut with a loud theatrical snap, and smiled in Lucius’ direction.

Evangeline sat there on an expansive settee that seemed much too small because of the company that shared it. Everywhere they went Mrs. Fortescue’s garish personality made up more than the difference for what she lacked in size. Causing everyone around her to feel claustrophobic no matter how far away they were sitting from her. Particularly, Evangeline. Just now, especially, as they were sitting across from the intimidating figure of Mr. Lucius Azrael. It didn’t help either that it felt as if he were staring straight into her soul with his piercing unwavering gaze. All she wanted to do was run away or melt into a puddle formerly known as Evangeline. Yet, there was something about him she couldn’t seem to escape. If only Mrs. Fortescue would stop talking for the better part of five seconds, she could probably figure it out then quickly forget about it. But, of course, as luck would have it, she continued.

“It is really good of you to join us. You know, I did wonder just a little bit if you would remember me.” Said Mrs. Fortescue.

“Immediately, Mrs. Fortescue. Exactly where?” Mr. Azrael asked, politely with the undertone that he was barely tolerating her for the purpose of pursuing something else entirely.

“My cousin Winnie’s birthday, at Clarages!” Mrs. Fortescue tried to jog his memory.

“Oh,” He replied as if he wasn’t entirely certain, but due to his preoccupation decided to go along with it anyway.

“But, I’ll tell you he was so proud to have you as his friend. Oh, and by the way he talked… gushed really about Gehenna Castle, with stars in his eyes. Like he had been transported to some fairy land. I do wonder how you can bear to ever leave it. Millie… I mean… Winnie, said that… that galleried hall, he said it was a gem. I’ll bet that castle has entertained royalty, eh?” As she rattled on, not allowing Lucius to get a word in edgewise. He kept looking to Evangeline as if he wished she would say something to break the flow of nonsense spewing from Mrs. Fortescue’s mouth.

“To be honest, the castle has not entertained the likes of royalty since Ethelred, the one they called ‘The Unready.’ Everyone said it had something to do with the fact he was always late to everything, especially dinner. But I always got the impression it had something to do with how he was never known to have much sexual prowess.” He said slightly raising his pinky and lowering it down slowly, before winking in Evangeline’s direction.

Mrs. Fortescue laughed heartily slapping Evangeline on the arm and shaking her. Evangeline was shocked at herself for feeling a smile creep onto her face along with the temptation to laugh, though she usually found she was customarily quite shocked by such subject matter. What was it about him that made it so different for her?

“You don’t really seem to know many other people here this season, you should take the time to come up to the suite sometime. Maybe we could organize a little party. Only the who’s who, of course, that is if we can find anyone…” Mrs. Fortescue rolled her eyes as she began pulling a cigarette no shorter than a one twenty from her overly jeweled case and shoved it into the end of an extra-long, equally gaudy, holder. The length of the two combined making her look like some sort of over exaggerated caricature from something in the funny papers. Evangeline tried to hold in her laughter at how ridiculous it was that Lucius almost didn’t have to reach out from his side of the table to play the part of the perfect gentleman and light it for her.

“I’m afraid now, I have only just arrived, and as you say I don’t know anyone here.” He stated his decline dryly, before suddenly turning his attention completely on Evangeline. The force of his magnetism as strong as if he grasped her face with his hand and purposefully made her look deep into his eyes. “What do you think of Provence?”

Evangeline did her best to recover from the sudden shock of finding he was actually speaking to her and began to answer, but as soon as she opened her mouth she was abruptly interrupted.

“She really is very spoiled, you know. Because, most girls her age would give their eyes just to get a glimpse of this place.” Mrs. Fortescue declared.

“That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t you say?” Added Lucius, dryly.

Mrs. Fortescue let out a shrill cackle and began to choke on the smoke from her cigarette. It did not bother Evangeline, however, as it usually did; making her feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. For her mind was too occupied with thoughts of the man across from her and the warmth of the humorous feeling that was now shared between them. She felt as if they were two old friends sharing an inside joke between one another at the old foolish woman’s expense.

Later that night, as Evangeline sat up in her bed, finding it quite difficult to sleep. This was not something completely unusual for her. Since Gregory’s death, sleep did not come to her very easily anymore. So she had taken up the practice of finding things with which to occupy herself until such a time as her body became too exhausted to keep up the battle and finally allow her to drift into the land of dreams. A land rapidly being laid barren of joy or peace since the passing of her beloved. She figured this was probably why she found she had less enthusiasm for sleeping, because there was no longer anything awaiting her on the other side of the veil lying between asleep and awake.

Tonight she sat with her back against the oak headboard of the single bed that stood next to a humble night table, where a solitary lamp gave off a meager yellow light. But it was enough for Evangeline to see the new addition she was swiftly and attentively adding to the collection of various works of art in her sketchpad. However, this one was quite different from the rest. It was not like anything you would usually find occupying her many books that were filled to the covers with depictions of still life’s and landscapes of flowers and birds, or other woodland creatures. This was a portrait. The portrait of a dark and mysterious man with sharp features and piercing perceptive eyes that even from within the page penetrated her soul and beckoned her to be his. And, strangely enough she found herself wanting to surrender to the pull of his desire. Like the great draw of the homing beacon living within all nature ever drawing it back to the places of its origin. The siren song that ultimately called them all back home.

Home. The place the universe fated them to belong and there was no altering it, no matter how much one tried to fight it.

What was it about Lucius that inspired such feelings in her? Such feelings she was sure had died all those years ago. Evangeline was convinced the scorched earth of her soul would never allow love to bloom there ever again, until now. This caused her to wonder, if she had been wrong about this, what else was she mistaken about?