The only boy Madeleine had ever considered in that regard had been Handsome Whitledge, they had called it love, but who knew if that’s what it really was. Stolen kisses and clandestine rendezvous had been its own form of romance, and now she wasn’t sure if it was the secret nature of it all had been most of it’s appeal. Who could tell with so much time and distance between them. They had never shared cross words, never ‘broken up’, they had just stopped talking to one another and let time carry them apart like leaves in a rivers current.

Maddie didn’t respond in words to his correction that he meant a marriage of friendly convenience rather than what she had said. Although in her experience girls like her, who had little but their money to recommend them seldom had the luxury of the distinction. And if she was honest – she could probably live with that. After all weren’t all marriages merely a contract between two people – a woman bought security and freedom with her looks or her money, and a man bought a bedmate and an heir? Although the first one was probably negotiable – it didn’t take a wife to procure a bedmate.

’Perhaps Mister Fisk’, she half muttered after a moment, there was no point in launching into all of the details, she doubted he had much interest in the goings on of her teenage heart. ’I try to take a weekly walk, to my sisters cafe and bakery’ she explained, ’Neither Ana nor Georgi attend but Magdalena is there, if you would care to drop by at times for something pleasant to eat and a chat you know where I shall be.’ she offered with a smile, Maggies presence would be easier to tolerate than Ana’s and her meddling couldn’t intercept the communications again. ’and I assure you the cakes should absolutely be taken as a bribe!’

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Again, Arven felt like a very ill-suited mentor. He felt that what Miss Madeleine Backus needed more than a husband was exactly that — a mentor. A friend who could give her strong, sound advice that suited both her needs and her wants. Ideally a lady who'd been through what she'd been through and came up smiling. But every time Arven offered advice, whether it was to engage in philanthropy abroad or ally herself with a boy who'd embrace her nature, she sort of politely brushed him off. His advice just didn't stick.

It seemed his role, instead, was to inspire her to suddenly run off and ride elephants in India. If Madeleine wouldn't take his more practical advice to balance out the wildness he inspired, Arven felt he could be a rather dangerous influence on her — despite his good intentions.

But he couldn't bring himself to turn down her offer of friendship; not when she'd felt such rejection at what she'd thought had been his failure to write to her. So he gave a smile, and gladly accepted; "I'd be delighted to visit you at the café from time to time; and to sample the cakes", he added. "Especially now that this country insists upon making itself my more permanent home."

  

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’Thank you Mister Fisk’ Maddie smiled, brushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear bashfully. ’thank you’ she muttered again. ’And I promise the cakes are absolutely worth it.’ The cogs of Maddies brain were whirring rapidly as she considered all that had passed between them tonight and the wide eyed affection she felt for the man in front of her. It was perhaps a sort of love, not for the man – as a man, but as an ideal and a dream, a whisper of a person she could be if the stars had aligned in just the right way. ’Until the next time Mister Fisk, I hope it’s not a year next time.’ she added with a small laugh.

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Arven smiled, with a hint of a half-bow, and watched his young friend depart to rejoin the company; or, more likely, to continue her solo tour of the museum. Should she be thanking him...? Possibly. For dreams were a vital antidote to the poison of boredom. But because she'd taken the wild stories but skimmed over his more sage advice, Arven could not help but think he'd given Madeleine directions to a path too perilous for her to resist.

-wrap?<3-

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   Madeleine Backus

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