Thread: The Perplex Parcel Pursuit Project (darkangel76 p Lotherio)

He always felt like a man about town when he could stroll down a street, letting his cane strike upon the surface and tip his hat to the other gentlemen. Mathieu even enjoyed the small talk, the hellos, good day sirs, lovely weather were having, the usual passing gestures. Two fingers to his hat, a slight rise as if in some secret salute. Heaven forbid these men ever realize his father was a cooper and that was his destiny until he seized his own future. In the back of his mind, he fantasized about taking their valuables, pocket watches, spectacles, rings and gold alike, all gentleman like even, all the while smiling to their companions knowingly, giving a kiss upon their gloved hands and retiring the richer for it. But he was just Mathieu now, out for a stroll. At one point, he found a shop selling canes and other finely crafted items of wood any gentleman would want. Slowly he was working his way up from the harbor, which was the easiest route for him to follow form the Port de Air, oddly enough. Cane tucked up under his arm, he bent over one moment to study the exquisite detail on a pocket watch behind the large pane of glass, reading in fanciful yellow letters Williams Shoppe O Knick-Knacks and Bric-a-Brac underscored, Fitting the Finest Fellows Full of Every Fellows Fancies, they were outlined in red, the tiniest open space between the edge of the yellow and the outline, surely the finest window painters handiwork. As he came up, the sun caught in the people behind him and, if he wasnt mistaken, that was Miss Charlotte Granville strolling down to the harbor behind him. Caught off his guards, the watch in the window forgotten, he turned to watch her winding her way through the crowds. There was a jaw dropping moment of the proverbial sort as he noted the exposed calf and the corset. For being of such upbringing, she was a treat to the eyes and Mathieu had to proverbially lift his jaw back into place, mentally reminding himself he didnt fly all this way to gawk but rather to meet this young woman and go about his business for the Packard family. The good news for him perhaps was that he wasnt her escort and she didnt know he was tailing her. This allowed him to stroll amiably behind and watch her as she meandered further towards the harbor. Curiosity caught upon his face when she lifted her head ever so gently to catch good winds from the ocean below. Himself being of the sort that never really noticed the freedom or the salt on the air, but rather the seaweed and the fish from the fish markets. He could never be that lucky, even with his run of luck, to enjoy the scent of the sea as she had done in the briefest of gestures. Mathieu even thought to himself if he were a poet, he could write verse and sonnets on end over that simple lifting of her head, the sun on her face and the pleasure of freedom. Once again, proverbial lifting of the jaw, this wasnt his chore, he had true business to attend and, if he wasnt mistaken that opportunity was slipping away from him. She smoothed her skirts and advanced upon a tea shop. Thick beams of wood highlighted its surface, with thin lines where the grain separated, assaulted by years of sea wind on the breeze in this part of town. Even as her hand outstretched and the chime of door bells rang clear from just over the threshold there, his hand came out too. Pardon me good Lady, came his call, My manners are fleeting. Being in that he was slow to hold the door for her only, a common courtesy. Certainly more for him to give transition into conversation, but something easily any passing gentleman should have done, at least in another part of town perhaps. One might note that inside, the equivalent of a tea samovar was the highlight along one wall, the latest in hot tea preparedness, small whistles and occasional flashes of steam demonstrated this technological marvel was constantly brewing some fresh tea.