Nymph Amidst Fabric & Pattern

[Rhiannon MacBride]

"Och ye think so? It is too...risque..." The woman who spoke was not anyone of importance. Not even one would take notice of her mousy presence, beauty hidden behind dirt smudged cheeks and brown hair beneath a too large hat that matched the gown resembling a sack that drowned form. Save that she stood outside a well-known clothiers shop where it seemed unlikely her foot would ever step inside.

Next to her was the one who garnered looks. Passing eyes roamed over glimpse of face or breasts when body turned to side, or lingered upon derriere clearly shown off in trousers. Even the overwhelmingly red shade of short curls drew attention. Whispers that passed between talking men or fury as woman walking with fellow smacked him for glancing away. Yet they were not taken notice of. Instead the Physician, Rhiannon MacBride, was busily talking to friend. "Come now Mary! You know I am right. Your Timothy would not be able to take his eyes off you!"

Pale skin quickly became pink at the mere thought of her beloved Timothy, who had not been caught yet, falling to his knees upon seeing her in this wondrous creation. "It not be matterin', Miss MacBride. Owner will nae let likes of me step inside. I'd soil everythin'."

"Tsk tsk Mary, you underestimate my skills. I must be doing a bit of shopping here today as well. The owner I have met upon many occasions and he is not a bad sort. Perhaps he will have a place of privacy where you can see to washin' up before trying anything." Rhiannon had found another special interest. Some would call them her 'pets' though that term to her was insulting. They were people who deserved a bit of attention and hope, and kindness. Mary had been near dead in the Infirmary for over three weeks after having been beaten by some bastard outside a tavern. It was only a couple days ago that she'd gotten well enough to go back home and straight back to work. She deserved a bit of care.

Gently taking Mary's arm, she dragged her protesting toward the door and inside. Rhiannon had purposely worn the clothes from work- blouse and trousers, and boots- just for Master Jean-Claude. She knew that he didn't seem overly fond of them before. Perhaps it was the imp inside that sought to cause mischief. Mary had gone quiet immediately after the door closed behind them and Rhiannon let one fair hand brush against a piece of fabric near counter. "Can you let Master Jean-Claude know that Rhiannon MacBride has come to call? And has brought a friend..."

Words meant for the boy always present, intriguing fellow that one, Julian.

[Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine]

“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few." ~Matthew 7:13-14



Julian


Spring had turned the shop over, from the drab dark pallets of the fall to the bright cheery shades of new life. Deep maroon, traded for soft rose pink, rich gold for buttercup yellow, and the browns for blue. Everywhere new life was starting to turn, even though the cold weather had yet to break. It was a secret to his success to gather new ideas of change when the dull months seemed to offer nothing. Jean-Claude was a smart man, and even in his self made Empire did he live in the thought of something more. A business as this had been pure profit while the rest simply kept idle hands occupied. His passion was for medicine, science, and modern mechanics. He couldn't spend much time here at all, so when the world brought him Julian--Jean-Claude took the much needed step back.


Julian, was a smart child whose desire held nothing in title or rank with sword and lance, but in profit and gain. It had started one summer when the court came to call, and those in displayed riches sat in the garden talking of politics while he delivered his father's hard work to the castle gates. He had been scoffed at, by men who looked like women, and women who looked like dolls. It had haunted him, to this day; of the life beyond the farm. He had traded weather worn dirty hands for well groomed digits that so perfectly passed over the work of a master, but the passion was simply not there. This was his free ride, his ticket to greatness, and someday when he was where a young man should be, he would leave it all behind.

In careful consideration, Jean-Claude had thought the boy possessed by demons of the outer realm, and often wondered if someday he'd not watch him hang for the offense of simply gambling his life away. It was the golden age of heartbreak, but if it made the child happy; how could he stop him? The Frenchman, had noticed over the past year alone how worn the shop had become, in it's three year life. Already the paint was starting to fade from the harsh winter, and the roses planted by Ada's assistant had not had their yearly trim. Inside the displays were half done, thrown together without care, and in dire need of a good cleaning. For a man who held as much on his plate as Jean-Claude, the idle tasks should have been easily picked up by another out of pure kindness returned to a man who had infect given a shirt to the backs of a nation. Had he no more in stock? He would offer the one over his shoulders.

He was alone today, the farmer boy turned countryman who had traded his rags for riches, a suit that matched well. He wore his hair slicked back, combed in a modern style, but in fact left his ascot undone. He was a thin man, one who was not properly fed as a child, but the color on his face could tell another story. He dined nearly every night, with various members across the town, business partners, contacts, and the occasional Lily. (all three in one) It was an even trade, a bit of fabric for their time.

The bell on the door would ring, and the blue eyes of the young man would not even raise from his book, an idle mind skimming the pages for the good parts--the important parts. However, a sneer would wrinkle his face as he finally caught sight of the pair, and he would slowly close the book.

"I'm sorry.."[/b] His voice was flat against his tongue, showing very little signs of interest, "He's stepped out." Would that be enough o make them leave?

Judgmental eyes passed over the redhead long before they took on her 'friend'. She needed a bath, the both of them, but the little mouse brown haired one did most. With a wave of his hand he would settle back into the book.

"Leave the door open as you leave, I'll need the wind to air out the smell."[/color]

[Rhiannon MacBride]

Which made the horrified gasp at blunt rudeness neither knew. They had been moving their way further forward when that child decided to take note of their presence. Mary's face was bright with shame, injury shining in eyes coated in tears, and sought already to leave. It was only Rhiannon's steadfast though gentle grip on arm that kept away success. In a voice meant only for Mary's ears she whispered,"Go wait by the door. Do not leave, understand? I will only be a minute."

Getting a quick nod from friend before she walked off, Rhiannon then turned toward the counter. It was unfortunate for poor Julian- the look in those usually kind and sultry eyes. There was a coldness to blue depths that would seem even more chilling than the cold outside. Each step forward made them narrow more as she stalked her prey. "Julian, Julian, Julian..." Name slid off tongue the way a parent chastised a child. There was an 'oh what will I ever do with this spoiled brat' quality to something as simple as only his name.

Pausing in front of counter, placing one palm on it first, Rhiannon allowed other hand to raise to tap a nail against his cheek. It was an invasion of privacy. She'd just tossed herself right into his personal space without permission and wasn't about to be moved. Somewhere in the back of her mind Rhiannon could hear Mother's words...

Rhi, darling, a lady should always be proper. We do not raise our voice, speak out of turn, lift our hand in anger, or be anything that isn't the epitome of polite and well-mannered. Do not disappoint again...

Well, good thing the woman was long dead then. Hand that had previously tapped finger against cheek moved speedily to grip fabric at neck and intently yank head down. She sought to slam poor Julian's head into desk and ears almost ached to hear the satisfaction of his begging for mercy. She wasn't generally a violent person, no, yet in this instance Julian had provoked her wrath easier than most.

"That good woman you have just made feel shame nearly died after being beat within an inch of her life by some bastard who wanted a piece of arse. He raped her, beat her, and left her bleeding in an alley where countless well-to-do egotistical folk such as yourself raised their nose at the smell instead of seeing why body was so still." Hand sought to grip tighter,"AH will nae 'ave ye treatin' her like somewhat ye stepped in, understand?"

Accent came out with force of anger, slipping from the well-spoken English without brogue that she'd been taught in her four years in Patron's service before Rhiannon got it under control again,"After she recovered she went back to work to take care of family. Mother ails and Father is a drunk, and they have too many mouths to feed- and she cares for them all. SO, dear Julian, you will treat her as she is meant to be treated- with kindness- or I will make you regret it."

Fury. Temper upon display. If one stated that those with hair the color of flame had fiery-temper then they would be right in this instance. Rhiannon sought to put fear into the brat. If he thought Mary need bathe then she would find a place for her to do so, but he would be kind to her.

[Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine]

Julian found himself close to a woman, that otherwise would have never tempted his attention. He cared very little for the other sex, there was simply no desire for that kind of will in his life right now. A woman would slow things down, cloud his thoughts just as felt Adelaide had done to Jean-Claude. The pair had never liked one another, though in her image he had done everything to sabotage the connection the elders felt for one another. In a story that could have spanned the stars, Jean-Claude told him often of the deep connection he shared with his lover; talking as if they were idle friends and he not his apprentice.

"Please..do not embarrass yourself any further."[/b] Julian stated cooly against the woman's face, her lips a satisfaction to him that perhaps she would not realize. The taste for them, ran with his longing of blood, the overwhelming desire to see her dead body against the newly finished floor of his Master's shop. His lips turned into a small smirk, blue eyes rolling from her own as it seemed every woman on this Isle simply did not understand their place. cokey bastard that he was.

"You will have to forgive me if I…" Julian started but quickly cut away as he heard Jean-Claude's voice.

The sound of the door had been missed, with their bit of conversation, but Jean-Claude was standing with the pale dirty hand of the worn woman turned within his own. His gloved hands were warm against her skin, welcoming, inviting; cherishing the moment of her own. He spoke in quiet tones to her, warm welcoming sounds of how delighted he was to have her. Tucking her hand within the bend of his own, he would lead her slowly further inside. Navy eyes to find his apprentice, and stare long and hard down the bridge of his nose at the man.

"Julian." He smiled at the young man, "Go make sure the fire under the bath is lit."[/b] The sound the woman made next to him nearly had him melting, did he intend to cook her? "It is a copper tub my darling, a pleasure when the water is warm." He would give her hand a pat, before his eyes feel into the pirate witch with a small shake of his head, as Julian went up the stairs.

"Lady Rhiannon, a pleasure to see you again. Come to make a trade?" He gave her a once over with displeased eyes, but far too much of a gentleman to ever consider saying so out right.


Julian, had become a sore subject, the very temperament had nearly done him in, but it was how he treated Adelaide that had pushed him too far. Thoughts went up to where the boy had gone, and as he could hardly breathe with the anger that rose. The farmer child had been nursing a solid hit across his jaw now for nearly a week, but Jean-Claude had never once offered the reason.


The Frenchman was worn thin, stretched out of his projects far too much for his old age, and suddenly it came through as he listened to how Julian had treated such a poor innocent little creature as the one who still clung to his arm. He had expected this from the boy now for a while, but it had gone on for far too long.

"Excuse me one moment, Ma petite," He spoke so gently to the woman offering for her to look around, make herself feel welcome, that he would have her back in her spirits in no time, and give a nod to them both before making his way upstairs.

Julian had lit the fire, the room already starting to warm under the tub, and the water steaming, but he had done little else. Where were the soaps Ada had made? The wash for the hair? What of the robe? With a heavy sigh, he moved forward through the building, and down the hall where he saw the son of Sam reading once more. The door would close behind him, and Julian wouldn't even look up. However, Jean-Claude would pass to where the man sat, and pulled the book from his hands. The youth would look up to his mentor and smile; yet the face across Jean's wasn't pleasant nor was it was it human. He felt for certain satan would have come up through the taller man's rib cage.

"I am only going to say this one time,"[/i] Jean-Claude started, his voice like a father worn weary of the constant nagging of a child, and the tone soon faded to a furious hiss. "First as your employer, when a customer comes through that door no matter what the rank, or appearance you are to great them with respect, you treat the very much the same."

"But I do not agree with your charity, Jean-Claude."

"Do NOT INTERRUPT ME, when I am talking to you." Anger rose heavily over the smooth silk of his voice, and a heavy hot breath passed through his teeth as he nearly snarled at the youth, and Julian's eyes grew wide.

"THEY are just as important as any Duchess or Duke, King or Queen. When a woman walks through that door you treat her like a lady, when it is gentleman, you act treat them just the same. Now.." Jean-Claude's gloved hand came to capture the boy's dress shirt, pulling him from the chair with strength that would surprise any had they ever thought the man weak.

"From one man to the other." He hissed against the boy's face, "If you EVER speak to my Adelaide the way you do again, I will tear out your intestines, and I beg you to ever doubt my ability to find them." He let the boy drop back into his chair, curling his hand back over the ruby of his cane and started for the door. With the fading of his steps he continued to remind him of how Ada was to be treated as his wife, with the same amount of respect, and how he would write him off if she wasn't.

"Such a shame to be so full of anger on such a lovely day." He spoke then as the door closed behind him to leave the youth where he sat, and made his way back down the stairs; combing fingers through his hair to correct it from his bit of brashness..really it wasn't his style, but things were going to change around here.

[Rhiannon MacBride]

Had Rhiannon been able to read the boy's mind...well, it wouldn't have made any difference actually. She'd still have been standing there trying to knock some sense into his dense head. Though that light in those eyes her own connected with couldn't be mistaken. All the years that Rhiannon had worked with those of less than pleasant natures, even wandering into that frightening territory known as Underdark, made it even easier to spot. There were times her own blue eyes lit with it as well though Rhiannon did her best to deny it...to deny the lust for blood and violence that sometimes stirred within her veins. Even now there was slight glimpse of it reflected in blue eyes that met his...challenged him...

"Embarrass myself? Tsk tsk you are the one embarrassing themselves Julian. Behaving like an inconsiderate child. Little boys have to grow up some day." It was only Jean-Claude's voice and Julian's acknowledgment that made her step back. Those full lips formed a smirk upon catching the orders and blue eyes remained still locked on Julian. Her words low enough for only his ears,"Finally a real man steps into the shop. Perhaps you should take some lessons."

Turning on heel, Rhiannon's face smoothed until any lingering traces of anger or violence had completely vanished. A wide smile of warmth and welcome upon lips now,"Jean-Claude, I have come to be clothed by skilled hands. Alas my wardrobe suffers most severely."

Strolling over toward where Mary stood there was not any doubt that Rhiannon was a woman aware of herself. She wasn't one to brag or behave in a manner of self-conceit, but she was aware of her own beauty. Something her own Mother had called a sin. "As you can see, I also brought a friend. Mary here was admiring that piece in your window. Hopes to catch the eyes of a particular young man." Soft laughter, flowing freely with vibrant life, passed parted lips at her companion's blush,"Come now, Mary, you know it's true."

The room seemed pleasant now that Julian had vacated it. Hopefully he prepared Mary's bath with some care. Inconsiderate little brat that he was. Rhiannon had not missed that glance from Jean-Claude at sight of her working clothes and it made blue eyes sparkle at him. The words stated were only for his ears,"Do you not like my outfit, Jean-Claude? I wore it just for you. Yet your eyes seem eager to see me out of it."

Teasing words of a flirty nature for sure! Grinning wider now, she then watched him so politely excuse himself. Meanwhile Rhiannon guided Mary toward the gown they had been staring at outside. Neither woman touched it, but instead considered it with thoughtful eyes. "Hmm I do think the fabric will be wonderful for your figure too, Mary. You are getting more weight back on your body. This is a good sign."

Hand patted that of her friend's own and Mary's words followed,"'Tis only thanks to ye Miss Rhiannon. Ah cannae thank ye enough."

"No, it is you who did it. I only supply what help I can. 'Tis your spirit that fought to see you maintain in this world. Strong spirit you have, Mary, and do not ever let any say otherwise." Quiet conversation followed while the women awaited Jean-Claude's return.

[Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine]

There was a constant struggle within the shop though the peaceful nature seemed a perfect mix with pride and passion. Jean-Claude was a dignified man, of perfect nature, and well mannered measures as to how he ran things. His hands were skilled hands, with delicate yet deadly digits that seemed so precise as they started to lay out the bits of lace and leather ties.

"Forgive him, there are days I question his adulthood, but deep down he has such potential. A blessing in my life." There was a hint of sadness there upon lips of the devil, the very alabaster skin to be questioned if it were alive or simply a dream. Everything about him moved in careful motion a well defined man of proper breeding, and for certain one of a kind upon the Isle. "But let us not dwell on the matters of the past. It is a new season, and a start of something grand."

He offered his gloved hand to the small Mary whose body was indeed a bit worse for wear and lead her upstairs into the waiting arms of one of the female tenants. Her kind eyes could wear in on even the most shy, and the feeling of a warm welcome did seem to soothe any nerve. He was thankful for the Lady Harper whose old age had been a dear hand in his life upon the Isle.

Downstairs he would follow then the shadows of the long hall as the afternoon had found itself covered by the light leaving from the day as the clouds passed over the radiant sun, and it was then he would answer Rhiannon.

"Mon Cher, please let us not mistake my remarks for any kind of malice or misfit conduct, but.." A very dark brow rose in an arch, to question everything she wore, openly judging her with a sort of smirk that pulled then over pale lips, and finally a small spout of laughter. "I do indeed wish to have you out of it, but only on a professional level of course." Finally, his hands came to collect behind his back as he stood there waiting for her eye to catch over something in the room she would seem to admire.

"Now..as of anything else, I would assume a dinner, a night of dancing, and a dress before I shall see about what is beneath." It nearly took everything in him to produce the small comment, and EVERY part of his face was flushed with a small blush. Ungodly of this man--really.

[Rhiannon MacBride]

Flame red head turned in the direction of Jean-Claude upon his return and lips curved in a warm smile,"There is not any need to ask forgiveness. I know how recalcitrant children can be."

Julian much reminded Rhiannon of a child rebelling against authority. She'd seen her own sister during such a phase of life. Or perhaps he was just doomed to be one of those people. Rhiannon couldn't stand those people. Those who thought themselves above people like Mary. Eventually they saw the errors of their ways though. Blue eyes lit softly as Mary nervously walked away with Jean-Claude, occasionally glancing back over one shoulder, to encourage the young woman. Once both were out of sight Rhiannon's attention turned to the items on display.

Fair hand ran gracefully along the length of a silky dress, admiring its simple lines and lace about neckline, before moving onto another item. She had to admit that what was on display was definitely more than tempting. Other hand shifted to prop on right hip, blue eyes taking in the details of garments while awaiting the return of Jean-Claude. Apparently, she would not be left to wait long. Laughter flowed from parted lips as she turned to face him.

Upstairs Mary complied with the wishes of the woman left to attend her and downstairs? Well, downstairs Rhiannon raised one brow while giving a feigned pout at Monsier Jean-Claude. "Do you not like my garments then? I wore them especially for you."

Which wasn't a lie! She'd worn them knowing that he'd wished to see her in something else completely. Mostly they were worn for simplicity. It was easier to work in such clothing compared to that considered feminine. Yet it was his blush following the next sentence just as she'd turned to consider a few gowns that earned him a sultry little look. Blue eyes moved slowly down his figure, from the blushing display upon face to tips of shoes, and back up again. "Ah, if only you were not taken and I was a woman of lesser morals. Three years ago I would have tried to entice one of those offers out of you."

Fingers moved along another silky gown, this one more a sea foam shade, while murmuring sweetly,"What do you think I would look better in? I have such a hard time deciding on clothes."

[Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine]

"Ah, Colombe, What a feeling it must be to be such a vixen. A freedom of sorts.." The tips of his gloved hand came to brush back a lock of that flame red hair, "To be so free and wild. This is your time." He did not mean the moment in which they stood, but the very light of her life. This was her world, and they simply just lived in it. The stars and moon all gathered around her to hang delicate pearls around her neck, but this one wished to work for her own glory. He had his feeling that no matter what the offer on any gown, she would refuse if he wished to gift. "The rose's thorn no doubt." Finally he smiled once more, that same cool calm collected feeling washing over his face as dark coal eyes seemed to read well into her, as if they could look into her very soul.

"A complex puzzle that one." He spoke quietly as Julian once again made his way down the stairs, and as Jean stood his hands folded behind his back to look over the shoulder at the youth, "Something so strange in him." Their quiet voices could no doubt throw a hint to the other's direction that the topic of their conversation had shifted from getting Rhiannon naked to only dress her again. "A genius, in mathematics, could recall any verse from any chapter of book he has read, but when it comes to people.."

From the small corner in which Julian worked he looked up to the pair of them, and startling blue eyes could have chilled Jean to the bone. There was animosity behind it, that he knew hung in a delicate balance of good vs. evil. He had known it to be there like the constant storm on the horizon waiting for reason to sweep the shores. The concentration upon his verdict was clear, and though his did not aim for Science like his master's thirst for knowledge, Jean-Claude knew he worried very deeply for the rooted seeds of doubt his young apprentice held.

"He has no friends, no interests outside of his schooling, and even I feel I bore him sometimes. He shares much of my same desire when I was his age, but even I had my share of wild times." Hard to imagine, but in his day Jean-Claude was rather the playboy. Wealth, and a title could get you anything in Paris--add good looks? Everything a gentleman should be, tall dark hair, a seeming mysterious nature was it such a surprise that he held the fancy of many mother's wishing to share the bloodline. It was what they came to hope for in golden years, beautiful grandchildren?

"Perhaps we shall make a trade?" He smiled politely keeping his voice quiet still turning his back to where the young man leaned over the book he was reading, "Get him to go out with you, and I shall offer you anything in this store for both beautiful Mary, and my fine little vixen."

[Rhiannon MacBride]

A more demure woman would have stepped back at the familiarity of such an act as brushing hair off cheek. Rhiannon, however, didn't even flinch. Instead those keen blue eyes, that some men believed could see into the soul, met his without a shred of shyness. There wasn't anything forward in her mannerism though. She had been privileged, one more than occasion, to revel in the company of Adelaide. To deceive one she considered a fledging friend of sorts would be wrong. Though it would not be denied that a shiver chased down her spine at the gentle touch.

"Am I free and wild, Jean-Claude? Perhaps that is only a facade." One corner of her mouth quirked up. Rhiannon was by no means as wild as Ada. She'd seen the woman in action. Yet both had their ways and still managed to be responsible. To read his mind though would be a treat. What thoughts turned the wheel behind those eyes? Lit them in such a manner while he perused her features? Ah, curiosity. It had killed the cat so the saying went and Rhiannon had to be careful- she didn't particularly want to die yet. Too much life to live.

Laughter sparkled in her gaze at his words,"Aye, a thorn be I. Gloves must be worn for those who should choose to pluck me, Jean-Claude." Though for all the amusement dancing upon face it was clear by tone that Rhiannon was most serious. A particular man flashed to mind, one who had chosen to pluck her three years ago, and yet...he had avoided the thorns. It was when one chose to do the plucking that decided if they got pricked or not.

Change of subject followed by that of demeanor brought a raised brow. Briefly contemplative gaze flickered in the direction of Julian as nose wrinkled. A brat. That was what he was. She wanted to smack him upside the head still, but refrained by curling fingers into palm of hand and turning to peruse gowns now. "Have you tried taken him to the Lily? Perhaps a night or ten with a handful of courtesans will loosen him a little."

Miracle the things a little, or lot in Julian's case, release could do. Rhiannon had seen it completely change men. Of course, Julian was not a man. Hand played over lace that seemed of French design, marveling at feel of it against skin,"What do you recommend? I can never choose color that compliments my hair nor my skin. You are skilled in choosing aptly for women."

Requests were part of life. In Rhiannon's work, both past and present, there always came one. Sometimes they were related to work and other times personal life. Yet none could have shocked her more than the one made of Jean-Claude. Hand that had gently been holding silk as if touching a babe, afraid to hurt it, clench the fabric tight in a manner that was positive to upset Jean-Claude. "You want me to WHAT?"

Shock made voice raise for a moment on that last word before realizing that Julian was at the counter. Probably trying to overhear the conversation or find something in their manners to use against his employer, and cause disharmony. Evil boy. Turning around quickly, keeping voice low, she murmured,"While that is a marvelous offer, the gowns, that spoiled...child...hates me as much as I seem to him. I would kill him before the evening is over."

Observing Julian from the corner of an eye, Rhiannon had to admit that he was handsome. If not for his personality then she could have liked him. Yet that seemed next to impossible. Yet here stood Jean-Claude asking her to go out with Julian for an evening in exchange...

Mary. It was that name that caught her attention. Anything for Mary. If it'd been only her the offer had been extended to Rhiannon could have flat out said no. Except that he was offering to give Mary anything she desired in this shop. A woman who worked to the bone every day of her life...she'd never been given anything. Jean-Claude was offering that and Rhiannon- well all she had to do was suffer through one evening with Julian. Surely it couldn't be that hard?

Taking a deep breath, summoning her courage and praying for extra sanity, she gave a resigned nod yet one of acceptance nonetheless,"I accept the trade. I am doing this for Mary though. She deserves something so wonderful."

[Master Jean-Claude d'Aquitaine]

There was much about him that seemed to avoid all tense and purpose of the world. With worth and dignity at his feet, there was another world so delicately on his display. None, knew him as Adelaide did, and so few understood what was beneath this strange facade. He was a mortal man, with an immortal feel to life. Jean-Claude carried with him the weight of the world, that for now would see him as simply mad, but someday mark greatness for generations to come.

"You talk openly, and not when asked. You speak without being spoken to, and you smile for no reason at all, "Mon Cher, I dare say you are very much free, and perhaps only a little wild." He spoke with a smile as he turned to follow her over the racks. Coal black eyes going over the careful tones in her face, and the wild fire red color of her hair. In certain light it held a blue undertone, adding a sense of a deep mahogany, but in the sunlight it appeared to be burning as brightly that the fires that burnt his body.

"Blue. You would look best in blue, a deep green, and perhaps even a pale shade of purple." He admitted without flaw, his notions always correct. Her comment about her thorns would cause a smile to find his face, lips that seemed like stone pulled thin as he rose his hands a gesture of his silk gloves. "I have learn to be very careful with roses throughout my years, but I have drawn much blood over them." Lesson learned.

The attention turned to his apprentice and with it a great hold of his heart. Dark coal eyes swept over the boy's features in anticipation of the harsh words that were always expected when others looked in from the out. Julian didn't let them in, and it was not for his own protection--but the simple reason he cared very little of how others saw him.

"He has no interest in women, Mon s'est levé. I have tried everything. One night, is all I ask an attempt even that. If he continues to refuse or is rude to you..darling Mary will worry of nothing." Jean-Claude went silent for a moment, "Does Mary need a living? I am in dire need of extra hands, ones that can learn to sew." Flesh or fabric, he would not make her pick as so many were blind to the surgeons secrets.

[Rhiannon MacBride]

The plight of one man to save another. Or so it could be assumed, no? Jean-Claude sought to thrust Julian into the world and perhaps therein change him. Rhiannon wondered if that were possible. Contemplative gaze perused Julian briefly from seclusion of lashes while speaking,"This is why I come to only you, Jean-Claude. You always seem to know what suits my coloring. I once had a seamstress try to put me in orange. Can you imagine such a dreadful color on me?"

Delicate shudder coursed through her at such a dreadful thought before she gave a soft laugh. Rhiannon had easily set that woman back on her heels though. The man was astute in his estimation of her wild and free spirited nature. His insight into people seemed to be a skill much like that of his ability to choose the most suitable color or fabric for ones figure. Turning now, both hands found hips as she murmured,"I can only promise friendship with the lad if anything does come out of this though. If he touches me I have the right to slap him."

Rhiannon clearly wasn't asking permission. Liberties were not to be taken. Though if the lad had no real interest in women then she was safe. One brow quirked as she leaned closer,"Perhaps, dearest Jean-Claude, the child prefers the company of a well-dressed gentleman?" Such a scandalous suggestion! The church would have an apoplectic fit at those words being uttered while here stood a flame-haired little witch discussing it as if a date for tea. "I know some well-to-do gentleman into such as well. They might like the company."

For once she wasn't being insulting. Instead just making honest conversation. That ability to speak without thinking once again. It was only discussion of Mary that turned mind away from that subject,"Hmm, if I recall right she does some of the sewing for her family. I am positive that Mary would adore to work here. She works at some sleezy tavern where the men are always trying to grope her and one almost killed her. She learns fast from what I have seen."

If she could get the poor woman away from that tavern? Well, she'd see it done. Rhiannon didn't truly want to see her newest friend get hurt again. "I think I shall take three of each of this seasons choicest gowns in the colors you have chosen. And Mary, she shall have that gown. I think it will look most wondrous on her."

Rhiannon motioned to the one in the window. She had purposely left out what fabrics the gowns should be in. Jean-Claude could choose those she surmised. "Oh, and perhaps some delicates? In silks and soft fabrics please. For a gentleman friend's viewing pleasure." Ah ever the scandalous one. Her lips curved wide in an impish grin.