Little Letters Left

[George Williamson]

On the other Wednesday, as was decided nearly a year ago, a letter is left on the front desk of the Ceryneian. Instead of the usual recipient of Miss Delaney it was instead for a Lady Leroux. Instructions were that if such a person wasn't working there at the moment to pass it to Miss Delaney as she would know what to do.

It reads:

Dear Lady Leroux,

If you find yourself with the time I would like to meet with you. The festivities meant we didn't have much time to discuss things at our last meeting.

You would see me return in a week to collect any reply from the front desk.

May the Lord keep you in his Sight,
G. Williamson

[Erika Leroux]

The reply is left at the front desk, as instructed.

"Dear Mr G. Williamson,

I do indeed have time to meet with you. When and where would suit you best? I will be there, waiting. Please bring candles, I find I have need of a supply of them.

May the Lord watch over you also,
E. Leroux"

[George Williamson]

George wasn't one to waste time. He had a paper to reply the instant he picked up the letter.

Dear Lady Leroux,

I am glad, and candles I can bring as well. If it pleases you I would meet you here before we decide where best to go to discuss matters.

My return shall be in two nights time then, Friday at seven, to either yourself or another letter.

May the Lord keep you in his Sight,
G. Williamson

[Erika Leroux]

Erika was waiting for George at the prescribed date and time, heavily veiled and gloved as usual, and with as relatively a graceful demeanour as her limp would allow. She'd paused long enough to scribble a brief note, informing Miss Delaney and Miss Daye, if she were around, that she would be away for the evening.

[George Williamson]

George had thought ahead for the evening. In previous nights at the theatre he had appeared in some of the finest coats he could imagine. It's amazing how one can trick the mind into thinking it feels silk instead of rough cotten. Instead George went for a more modest approuch tonight, looking like a business just south of the river who was on the up, yet not quite out of dirty depths. A simple coat, bland colours, and little to catch the eye.

A beaming smile broke out across his face on seeing Erika waiting for him. "Ah, M'lady." The voice was of a similar tone, one of atempting to sound of a higher station than the gentleman had achieved. "It is good to see you! Shall we walk? There is something you would most like to see. Only a few minutes away I swear it." An arm is offered.

Honestly, the topics on George's mind were not the kind to be overheard in the general chatter and his desire to find a space where they could speak of them overbid the rest.

[Erika Leroux]

Erika smiled beneath her veil and took George's arm, both amused and curious.

"Mr Williamson, I would be delighted. I am still new to this city, and it continues to surprise me at every turn."

Not all of the surprises delightful, she thought, but those that were, those were most certainly worth it. And she found George strangely refreshing company, his enthusiasm equal to Christine's but without the disturbing madness forever threaded throughout.

"Please, lead on."

[George Williamson]

The path George took was heading north and slightly uphill, as everything was from the centre. Before they arrived at their veiled destination George did think of some light chatter to pass the journey.

"I believe even those who have been here all their life still find surprise in the current nights. Troubling time these are, troubling times indeed." The essence of being British was a heavy helping of troubling times. The streets showed it clear. Empty, mostly. Still reeling from the curfew and the air of fear that gripped the city. "Though, to bring some light, I wanted to speak to you on music. A term I found recently left me quiet in the dark. The difference between polyphonic and harmonic music. Have you heard this before?" George kept a slow pace. Not an amble, but a gentle stroll through the streets.

[Erika Leroux]

Erika looked surprised at the question. She'd not expected this of George.

"Imagine if you will, that the music is..." She struggled to find a suitable explanation "The melody is a...piece of string. In harmonic music, you'll find that it is accompanied by threads - chords or harmonies - which complement the initial melody. In polyphonic music, you will find that there are two or more melodies - pieces of string - which run throughout. Sometimes they will echo each other, at other times, they will counterpoint each other. If you wish for an example of polyphonic music..."

If George could see her eyes through her veil, they would be lively, filled with passion for her subject, though the passion is reflected somewhat in her tone of voice.

"...I would suggest looking no further than one of Bach's Fugues. Fugue No. 17, in A Flat would be a fine example." She pauses. "I do find that once one has heard the difference, it is easier to understand the complexities. Do remind me, I will see if I can arrange for you to attend some performances to further educate you, if you so desire. "

[George Williamson]

If George had known any latin he wouldn't have even needed to ask. Not that he cared, or realised. His question was being answered. Fully, and with the option to hear on it further. Extatic would be an understatement, "Truely?! That would be wonderful."

While the excitment was true, and to be answered so fully was refreshing, Goerge couldn't help see reflections of his actions in both Erika's demenour now and seeing how Christine acted. The excitment of youth. Something to capture and preserve away from the harsh realities that others bring. He was starting to understand already.

"I have listen to a few bits and peices at the Ceryneian. Is it the kind of music that has many songs sung at once. Which are at time similar." George starts nodding along, fitting the information into place. "But other times work alongside each other. Though..." George wondered, "it doesn't explain what a motet is..." He thought, hoping it to be filled in.

[Erika Leroux]

Again, Erika smiled.

"Why, in French it would translate to 'little word', although the simplest explanation is that it is choral composition, and generally of a sacred nature, although certain compositions choose to celebrate other ideals, such as sovereignty."

She pauses, lost for a moment in memories.

"I recall hearing some of Gabrieli's work in Venice - it had faded in popularity by then, it had been several decades since his passing, but I was eager to hear it. It did not disappoint. Thus, again, I would recommend Bach to you, should you wish to understand in more depth. In this instance, Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme would be a fine choice. But I am curious. Where did you learn of such musical terminology? I was not aware that you had such interest."