12th August, 1895 — Chevalier House, Bartonburg

Usually, Barnaby entertained some boundaries towards Miss Chevalier, because he owed it to her, as a friend – but occasionally he was simply so maddeningly bored that he had to exist somewhere, and Miss Chevalier’s company was among the best.

He had grown to know her well enough that he did not much care for her family, however; and he did not think she was greatly fond of her stepmother either, but fortunately this morning most of the family had gone out. Barnaby had watched them leave – because, admittedly, Barnaby had been lurking in their parlour since about four in the morning for want of anything else to do, and had already meticulously examined the inner workings of a ticking clock, memorised an open page of a stray encyclopedia, and given the housekeeper carrying her a breakfast tray a rather good shock, before Tabitha had rejoined the living. (Ha.)

He was in better spirits now for her presence, although still as restless and unquiet as the dead could be. “I know you are not working today,” Barnaby observed, a little wheedling (he knew her schedule as well as she did, of course, for their walks to and fro), “but have you really no errands to run? No eager callers? Nothing exciting to do?” He wanted sorely for entertainment, and required her to provide it. He knew she was not the most sociable sort – prone to harassment as she was – but surely there was more to her life than this.

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Tabitha Chevalier/Daffodil Grimstone

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   Tabitha Chevalier

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Sometimes Tabitha wondered just how her luck had ended up with a ghost for a best friend? The exasperated rant of her housemaid was fair; Tabi didn't expect to find Barnaby in the house in the early hours of morning, but she supposed she wasn't surprised either. She was not one to lie in, so it wasn't even that late, which had her chuckling at his questions. She was sat in a comfortable armchair, still in her housecoat, enjoying a second cup of tea in the parlor after hearing about his occupancy of the house.

She had to sigh, because she sort of understood his sentiments. Work was all she had really. She went to a few social events here and there, but not often because they made her uncomfortable. She, unlike most of her mother's kin, did not relish in the attention that her heritage brought her way. Growing up an only child with her grandmother and father (until her stepmother had come along), she'd always been taught to try and hide it, to tamp down the unnatural side of her lineage. Now as an adult, she didn't know what to do but stay away. It seemed to be the only thing that worked. "I do suppose we can go into town if you like," she acquiesced. It was the only thing she could offer. He would enjoy a gentleman caller less than she would, so she had no idea why he even asked.

"Bernard should have a set of robes to pick up for Hogwarts I could pick up." Her baby brother was off to Hogwarts this year and it seemed wild to think about it. Her only other ally in the house was gone, but thankfully so were her half-sisters, so it was just her step-mother's derision she had to sidestep during the school months.

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   Barnaby Wye

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He had nodded idly at town – for at least a promenade was a little more fulfilling than staying here (rest did him no good as the restless spirit he now was, after all), but her follow-up made him close his eyes in a blink of slow despair.

“Bernard’s robes! Robes, Tabitha,” Barnaby exclaimed-slash-moaned, at that lamentable suggestion. He adored her beyond measure, and she was a kind soul indeed, but though he had suggested errands he had rather hoped for better. He looked at her plaintively, wishing he could physically prod her out of her comfort zone and into doing something fun for herself for once. “I know ‘tis rich to hear it from a dead man, but there must be more to life than this.” Life was short, and she was young and clever and charming and utterly beautiful – she could probably have anything she wanted, do anything she liked – and yet she was determined not to enjoy herself! (How did she expect him to live vicariously through her sipping tea in her housecoat?!) “Might you not try making the most of it, just for one day?”

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   Tabitha Chevalier

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Tabi's cheeks heated at Barnaby's dramatic admonishment. She bit her lip, brows furrowed. He wasn't wrong and his perspective might not be as skewed as he might think. Tabitha just didn't know what else to do. She had been branded an outcast in her own home. All she had going for her was work. She was no closer to finding romance than she had been when she met Barnaby.

Sinking down into her chair a little bit, she pulled a face. What was she supposed to say to that? "Wha-what do you suggest?" They did have all day and clearly Barnaby was restless. She supposed she could get Bernard's robes after work tomorrow. It didn't have to be done today. But what was there to do in Hogsmeade that could qualify as more exciting? The last time she'd gone to the market, she'd wound up in a wave of popcorn. Every time she went out to a social event, something strange like garden gnomes in her skirts happened. She was either cursed with something other than a half-veela heritage or someone was out to get her.

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   Barnaby Wye

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The triumph at getting her to even acknowledge the question and assess the paltry state of her life was short-lived, if only because she seemed at such a loss. He pitied her indeed.

Perhaps there was something in being too much a paragon of virtue; perhaps Barnaby could do Miss Chevalier a good deed, in a roundabout way, by getting her to be a little more selfish? It was healthy, he thought; natural.

“Whatever you wish to do,” Barnaby said, buzzing with keenness. “Go out for tea or to the portrait gallery or for a ride or a picnic in the park, if you like, I care not. Let us meet some people – make some mischief, if we choose,” (oh, if he had had her way with people, to make them fall for her head over heels – well, he would have people doing cartwheels and somersaults for him all day long). “At the very least you ought to choose yourself a new gown,” Barnaby prodded, still tutting over Bernard’s robes. He could be invested in that; he could be adequately invested in anything she did to treat herself; nor could he resist teasing her a little, with a sly remark – “Or an invisibility cloak, if that is more to your taste.”

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Getting outside and getting some fresh air might be nice. Maybe the portrait gallery. Going for tea by herself seemed a little sad, but she supposed having her ghostly chaperon along for the metaphorical ride alleviated the wonder at what to do with herself. At least she would have some to talk to. Tabi really ought to be more at home in her own company, but she still found it hard to be alone. Perhaps it was because it was mostly induced by her family at home. At least at work everyone seemed to tolerate her if nothing else.

"I shall get dressed and we can take in the park, if you insist." She wasn't so sure she needed a new gown, but she did have her own disposable income and it had been quite a while. What she would use it for, she hadn't any idea. It wasn't like she had a plethora of invitations during the season, but surely there would be a benefit for the hospital in the next few months she could wear it to. "And we can see if you can convince me of something more adventurous. Wait here please." Tabi rose gracefully from the chair she'd tried to sink into and placed her teacup on the cart.

"I will be but a moment." She added as she headed for the stairs. Tabitha wasn't one to overly fuss over her appearance, because it was unnaturally already taken care of, but she did like to make sure her clothes were neat and clean and in a color she enjoyed, so she pulled a soft blue dress from her wardrobe and worked quickly to make herself presentable. It did not take her very long, a quick twist of her hair and she went without jewelry or any other adornment. The only thing she thought to add to her person was her parasol; the bright sunshine, while she enjoyed it, did not always treat her skin well.

She descended the stairs again not too long after heading up, eyeing Barnaby curiously. "Alright, where to?"

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He did insist, so he waited obediently in the parlour as she ascended the stairs to get changed. This was a real test of his self-control, for if he just let the warm air carry him up a few feet higher, he could pop his head through the floor and espy her in the process – but then she would no doubt catch him in his impertinence, and dash his chance of an outing with her.

So he remained where he was, and was rewarded with the sight of her prettily garbed in a sky blue that made her pale hair practically shine against it. He proffered an arm to her in jest, and then let it fall, for of course he was no use in that respect – but as she headed for the door he unstuck his rapier from his ribs and turned it down so that it almost resembled more of a fashionable walking-stick of this age. If they were going to promenade, he may as well feign his part.

“Let us start with a turn about the park, mademoiselle,” he affirmed, because Tabitha had seemed acquiescent enough with that much, and at least it was a different route than their usual heading towards the hospital – and they could always make sport of judging the other passers-by. Then perhaps they would carry on towards the shops, if he could only convince her to spend her money; and if she worked up a thirst, they could go to tea, though this was a little less thrilling for him, for he would not be able to partake. “Perchance you might even take a boat out on the lake, and I might secure some inspiration?” (He was never not in the process of composing a new song or two, so this was a never-ending endeavour.)

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It was hard to argue that some fresh air would do her some good. She was typically inside at the hospital or at home avoiding people, so it would be a nice change. Barnaby never seemed to tire of wandering town, so he probably knew a good route to take and she was happy to follow along. A quiet giggle escaped as he offered his arm and she couldn't help but to smile. For all his bravado, in his time, he must have been a gentleman, or a bit of a scoundrel. Or both, probably both. Trouble either way, she imagined.

Tabi put up her parasol as they exited the house, the warm morning sun already burning off any fog that may have lingered overnight. The summer weather was always her favorite, the heat never seemed to really bother her like the cold did. As they turned toward the park, Tabs had to muse over the turn of events for the morning. While she was slightly annoyed on behalf of her maid, she had to give Barnaby some credit when he made decent points about leaving the house. In the past she'd never really had good reason to unless she was going to work. Having something social to do was good for her, but she still never knew quite how to go about it until her ghostly companion insisted upon it? Would it have been strange for her to take a turn in the park on her own? She rapidly approached the age of spinsterhood and though it didn't truly bother her, she knew meandering around unaccompanied made it all that much more obvious sometimes.

The boats on the lake seemed like an interesting prospect. Tabs knew they moved on their own, so there would be no need to row herself (and obviously Barnaby could not do it for her) and she had never thought to take one out. The only thing that made her nervous was that she was not the strongest of swimmers; she and water did not get along all that well. "Are they quite stable?" She asked hesitantly, thinking she would have to explain her caution if he pressed, but if they did not easily topple over, she would probably be fine?

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   Barnaby Wye

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The summer sun could not destroy him as it would burn through the skin of some other undead creatures, but neither could Barnaby feel any warmth from it, although he fancied it penetrated and reflected on his spirit in much the same way it did off the water, lending his ghostly form moments of bright and sparkling clarity. He felt quite effusively happy at present, for a ghost: whatever delusion this was, he was content to exist in it and enjoy their day vicariously. And if it was in his power to make Miss Chevalier smile from time to time, the outing was already a success in his eyes.

She did not leap at the suggestion, some doubt or wariness in her look. “I have spent many an hour here and seen many a Hogsmeade-dweller cruise this pond in the last decade or so, and all, so far as I know, have lived to tell the tale,” Barnaby explained, smiling with a touch of amusement but speaking with plenty of patience: she often required a gentle nudge of encouragement, he knew. There was a pause, in which he nearly expressed his other thought aloud: and the worst that might happen if you drowned would be that could spend your Death with me – but he was sure he conjured possible near-deaths to tell her so at least once a week, and they needn’t talk of drowning, if that was what she was afraid of. “They are well-mannered vessels,” he promised, hovering a little closer to one to tempt her to it, “and perfectly sedate. Are you afeared?”

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   Tabitha Chevalier

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Fortunately it was not a far walk from her home to the park, but Tabi still wasn't sure about the boats. She twirled her parasol idly, thinking it over. "I do not swim well, if it were to overturn." She admitted. It wasn't something she had ever enjoyed, the feeling of water pressing in all around her. Her father had attempted to teach her as a child, but truthfully the murky depths of the Black Lake were not at all alluring to her. The shore was fine, and it was breathtaking to look at, in all weather, at all times of the year, but she much preferred to take it in from land. Add in layers upon layers of skirts and she would sink straight down, surely.

Barnaby seemed quite certain about it though, so Tabi was hesitantly amenable. She was happy to meander that way in no rush, however. "What sort of inspiration are you looking for?" She was not spared from his songs and poems, but most of the time, she had to admit, they were pretty good, if a bit dramatic. (But when was he not dramatic? What a life he must have lived.) Mostly, she was trying to change the subject. Explaining her aversion to the water wasn't something she wanted to detail out to him if she could avoid it. Tabitha was far more comfortable listening to people talk about themselves and the things they were interested in, rather than speak of herself, so she usually tried to steer conversations away from topics that could circle back to her.

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