To hear your voice..

**Arabella Balfour** · Aug 23rd, 2006, 11:04:15 AM

After leaving Byron, 'Bella had returned to the Maison, which was still quiet as a tomb. She shook her head at the choice of words that had crossed her mind. Rose nodded to her, but didn't say anything as she passed. Which said it all. Nothing new had occurred.

Arabella entered her own suite of rooms and kicked off her heels. She tried to think on how best to go about telling her girls that they would once again be required to make house calls. None of them would like breaking with routine. They would do it though, she paid well. Very well.

Moving into her bedroom she rid herself of the form fitting business suit and clad in nothing but her undergarmets, lay across her king sized bed. Once more, alone. She stared up at the ceiling wondering, not for the first time why she lived in her self imposed exile. Rolling onto her stomach she reached for the phone. She needed to hear a friendly voice.

She dialed Chicago, and waited.

Fiona Devlin · Aug 23rd, 2006, 11:36:47 AM

CHICAGO, USA

:: Fiona was in the midst of a workout on the heavybag as her cellphone rang. After the third ring, she broke her rhythm and picked it up ::

"Hello?"

**Arabella Balfour** · Aug 23rd, 2006, 03:40:45 PM

She smiled the minute Fiona picked up. The smile kept the somber tone of her distress to a minimum.

"You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice.."

Fiona Devlin · Aug 23rd, 2006, 03:45:31 PM

"Arabella??? Is that you?"

**Arabella Balfour** · Aug 23rd, 2006, 03:59:46 PM

She crawled up onto her pillows and lay on her side, curling her arms around herself.

"None other. I just got in from a rather stressful meeting with our Byron. Things are just not going well in Paris right now."

She didn't mention London. It wasn't that she didn't trust Fiona, she did. The information on the London attacks shouldn't have reached her ear's yet though, let alone travel across the Atlantic. She wouldn't repeat information she got from her Prince, not to anyone.

"How's life in the 'melting pot'?"

Fiona Devlin · Aug 23rd, 2006, 04:06:17 PM

:: Fiona noted the tone in Arabella's voice. She was deeply troubled about something ::

"Things are rather quiet here. What's happening over there?"

**Arabella Balfour** · Aug 23rd, 2006, 06:45:28 PM

She blew out a half laugh, half sigh.

"The same. Quiet. Too quiet. Something is definately going on, although I can't be certain, at this point, what. It's like standing on a frozen pond, watching the ice around you splinter, not knowing which way to move.."

"So you haven't heard anything either.. I think I'd rather know, even if it's bad news."

Fiona Devlin · Aug 23rd, 2006, 07:32:59 PM

:: Fiona sighed ::

"There's something you're not telling, me I think."

**Arabella Balfour** · Aug 23rd, 2006, 07:49:29 PM

She knew she couldn't fool her old friend. Reading people to Fiona was as easy as reading a book. Wisdom of the ages..

Arabella hopped off the bed and cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder as she entered her bathroom. She unhooked her garters and rolled her stockings down one at a time.

"I'll say this. There may be a stronger threat than we have seen in some time. Keep your ears open for anything from London.."

"How is Michele..?"

Fiona Devlin · Aug 24th, 2006, 10:36:09 AM

:: There was a pause over the line as Fiona's mind raced ::

"Michele is doing fine." she replied.

**Arabella Balfour** · Aug 24th, 2006, 10:44:55 AM

She chuckled into the phone while tossing her discarded clothing in a small basket. "Just fine..?"

Arabella sat on the edge of the sunken tub and turned the water on, running her hand under the stream, feeling the temperature. When it was hot enough she stopped the drain and tossed a splash of scented oil in the water.

"That's a record answer coming from you on one of your favorite subjects. You sure everything is ok? I don't mean to pry, I just have a bad feeling that I can't seem to get rid of."

Fiona Devlin · Aug 24th, 2006, 12:53:29 PM

"Should I be buying a plane ticket?" she countered.

**Arabella Balfour** · Aug 24th, 2006, 08:22:08 PM

"No! Not yet, I would not know where to send you!"

She nervously laughed into the phone. Grabbing a fluffy towel she tossed it on a warmer. Arabella slid her body into the water, laying her head against the rim of the tub. She tried to let the heat surrounding her melt away the tension that was built up inside her small frame. It was an excersize in futility.

"Just.. be careful. I'll tell you what I can. As soon as I can. You know that."

Fiona Devlin · Aug 25th, 2006, 07:35:22 AM

:: Fiona was moving down the hallway as she spoke ::

"Alright. You be careful too."

**Arabella Balfour** · Aug 25th, 2006, 08:13:43 AM

"You be careful..." Fiona's voice echoed in her mind. It wasn't the first warning of it's kind that she had recieved from her immortal friend.

Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, London - 1819

The crush of the fashionable elite of the Season were congregated at Vauxhall this night it seemed. Every pretty young miss, from blushing husband hunters, to notorius demirep's, such as Arabella were being promenaded through the bowers and landscaped beauty of the pleasure gardens. It was early as far as the night went, the fireworks weren't for another hour, yet.

Arabella's warm brown eyes slid over her most recent Protector. Although he had some very strange mannerisms, he had been nothing short of good to her. She had amassed a small fortune as his Mistress and was living in a townhouse, fully staffed with servants happy to appease her every desire. Things could be worse. Things had been worse. Once she had rid herself of the last bit of morality that she possessed, her family had been quite well cared for. Then when they had been seen to, they abrutptly disowned her. The good name of theirs was simply not to be attached to a Cyprian of her reputation.

That was when she had hooked up with the Vicomte. He seemed withdrawn, calculating, as if he were assessing her worth at every moment. He had yet to take her to his bed, but she knew it would be soon. Perhaps this night. She would block out every emotion and do what must be done, she had to survive. No matter what it cost her.

"Are you enjoying the festivities, mon petit?"

"Yes, Vicomte. It is lovely, although I am feeling flushed. May we stop for a glass of lemonade?"

She was shown to a bench and the Vicomte went to fetch a glass for her. Fanning herself, Arabella cursed her fate once more and wished that she had been allowed the life she had been born to. She might have been here tonight on the arm of her future husband had her father not been a drunken reprobate and compulsive gambler. Her dowry had been squandered. Her family peniless. She had done what she could for them and still, wished them well.

"You ought to be careful you know.. " She turned to find a lovely young woman staring down at her.

Fiona Devlin · Aug 25th, 2006, 08:37:59 AM

"... the Vicomte is far from what is considered good company."

:: Her eyes followed him briefly ::

**Arabella Balfour** · Aug 25th, 2006, 08:59:24 AM

Arabella had no idea who the woman was, but somehow sensed that she should listen to her. Her gaze settled once more on the Vicomte, who was heading back their way with her drink. She was going to remark to the young lady that the Vicomte had been the soul of generosity to her, but when she turned, the lady was gone as suddenly as she had appeared.

"Here you go, my sweet."

"Merci, Vicomte" She accepted the glass and his hand and was pulled to her feet.

"Shall we stroll once more, somewhere more, intimate perhaps?"

Well, there it was, This was what he was paying her for. She plastered on a smile and slid closer to him, shoving her new doubts to the back of her mind. They found a grove, with a gazebo at it's center and she allowed him to pull her into his lap, on the cushioned bench.

"Do you know how lovely you are? You should remain this way forever, with the bloom of a girl in your cheeks and the wisdom of a practiced lover in your eyes."

He brushed a few tendrils of her hair from her neck and placed a kiss there. She would admit, he did have a way of making her resistence flee. His charm was nearly overpowering, especially now. His hands slid up the bodice of her dampened gold gown, they encircled her neck, tilting her head to allow him easier access to her throat. She was blissfully unaware of the peril that she was in. Her hands alighting on his dress coat and a small sound of pleasure escaping her throat.

She thought she felt a bit of pain from his love bites, but then all reason melted away as she floated on a sea of ecstasy. She barely recalled how she got home that night, tucked safely into her bed and awoke the next morning insaitiable and wanting to see the Vicomte again..soon.

"I'll be carefeul, Fiona. I'll keep in touch."

Fiona Devlin · Aug 25th, 2006, 11:39:20 AM

:: Fiona peeked ino the bedroom. Michele was armed with a drinking straw, engaged in mortal combat with Perceval ::

"Heads up. We're going on a trip."