The Blackwood carriage pulled in front of the art studio, lingering there until its two occupants exited. It then pulled away as the pair entered the building.
Catherine entered the first, Elizabeth trailing behind her. As Catherine did so she glanced around the interior, however, nothing had changed since the last time she'd been there.
The modest art studio was overflowing with a myriad of paintings. A few were completed, but a lot of them appeared to be works in progress.
She realized that none of the unfinished paintings had been worked on since the last time she was here. Catherine supposed you couldn't rush perfection, but the lack of any tangible progress didn't bode too well for the painter's wallet.
A noise emanated from a door at the back of the room, which prompted the duo's attention. A short man with unkempt hair and a scraggly beard appeared in the doorway arms full with tubes of paint.
Catherine could make out enough of the room behind him to understand that it was a completely unorganized disaster.
The man hooked the door with his foot to bring it close enough to his unextended hand. He grasped the knob before shutting it, all the while taking great care not to drop any of the tubes.
"Mr Harris?" Catherine called out.
The unkempt man jumped, dropping all the tubes of paint on the ground. Only a few of the tubes spilled any paint, but it was still enough to make a mess.
Mr.Harris gripped the sides of his head exasperated at his folly. While Catherine put a hand up to her mouth to stifle her laughter.
The man slowly turned around, gave a sheepish smile before trudging over to the two women.
"Evening Lady Blackwood I hope you're well!" Said the man excitedly.
He did not indicate that an accident had just transpired not one second earlier.
"Very," Catherine said nonchalantly. "On the other hand, you seem a bit on edge."
Mr.Harris cocked his head as if Catherine had stated something extremely confusing.
"Ah, yes the little spill!" He shook his head. "Don't worry about it, I'm always like this."
If this were her first time meeting him she would've just assumed that this was an excuse and that he was just hiding the fact that he was scared of her.
However, from her meeting with him last week she had determined that Mr.Harris barely knew who she was.
Catherine was surprised at first. Thomas Harris did a lot of work for the nobility of Avalon. It's why she had sought him out in the first place.
He vaguely knew of the Blackwoods, but not of their exploits. Which included her infamy.
However, you only had to talk to him for a little bit to understand that he was off in his own little world. A world that had no interest in what the nobility of the land were up to.
Even still the man was an expert in his craft, and despite his eccentric nature. She had no doubt he could deliver.
"The painting, have you finished it?" Catherine questioned.
"Ah yes yes. It just needs your approval!"
Harris beckoned the two over to the right side of the room. Among a cluttered mix of half-finished paintings, there was one with a piece of canvas draped over the top covering it.
Dramatically, he whipped the covering off the painting like he was some sort of magician, revealing the piece below. A portrait of Claire's mother…Andrea.
Catherine had realized a day or two ago a book of recollections was nice, but she wanted something more tangible. A painting described from memory was about the best she could do in that department.
Learning about Mr.Harris was somewhat of a coincidence. She'd been examining one of the portraits of Catherine's mother Emilia and had seen his signature in the bottom right corner.
There were further inquiries from there, but it was determined that Thomas Harris was the right man for the job. Catherine had come to him a week earlier and had given her specifications for the piece, and now she was viewing the fruits of his labor.
She had tried to be as detailed as she possibly could. You'd think it would be easy to describe a person that you've interacted with your entire life. Even so, nailing down every intricate detail without any kind of reference was easier said than done.
However, in the end, it turned out well. Her mother with her short brown hair, light freckles, and warm smile was now here in this world. It wasn't one-to-one, but it was unmistakable that this was her mother.
Catherine slowly sauntered up the painting and placed her hand on the wood frame, gazing deeply for a moment.
"Excellent Mr.Harris, It's better than I had hoped."
"Well, I haven't disappointed a customer yet!" He paused for a moment, thinking. "Well actually there was that one fellow…but he never paid, so I don't consider him a patron"
As soon as the sentence left his mouth he moved like a man possessed over to a small table near the entrance. You wouldn't know it but this is where you paid upon receiving the completed work.
"Elizabeth be a dear and go fetch the carriage for us while I pay," Catherine said.
"Yes, Ma'am." She replied.
As soon as Elizabeth was out the door Catherine approached the small table.
"Did you complete the locket as well?" Catherine queried.
"Yes of course," he said as he handed over a small silver object.
She grabbed the locket and opened it. On the left side was a smaller version of the painting she had just seen.
Being so shrunk down it lost some detail of course, but not a lot. It was amazing how well it had been replicated, if Catherine hadn't known better she would have suspected the work of a machine.
On the right side of the locket was a portrait of Catherine's mother, Emilia. Even though she wasn't technically her real mother, the previous Catherine's memories made her feel like she had a deep connection with her.
She wanted the locket to be a reminder of the two people that she felt the most indebted to. The both of them had done their very best in taking care of Claire and Catherine, and she wanted to honor them.
Even if it was only a small gesture, with this locket she always had something with her to remember them by.
Of course, Elizabeth also took care of her very well, but she saw her every day. So paintings or lockets were wholly unnecessary.
Speaking of Elizabeth, the reason she sent her away before she accepted the locket was due to the fact that she had no idea how to explain herself on that front.
She'd managed to come up with an excuse for the portrait. Although Elizabeth hadn't asked about it yet, it was doubtless she would and Catherine was prepared for it.
The locket on the other hand? What possible explanation could you come up with of why you wanted a painting of a random woman next to your mother with you at all times? Best to just avoid showing her in the first place.
It honestly probably would've been a better idea to have just gone by herself, but it had always been a prerequisite for Elizabeth to tag along wherever Catherine went to keep an eye on her.
She might've tried to convince the duke that it was unnecessary at this point. However, Catherine was worried that her father might think she was just being nice to Elizabeth to gain more freedom for herself.
Catherine didn't care if the duke came to that conclusion, but she was worried Elizabeth might come to it as well. She suspected that it would gravely affect Elizabeth on an emotional level, and she didn't want to put her through that.
Hopefully, the duke would naturally come to the conclusion that Catherine wasn't scheming and she could be let off her leash to a greater extent.
Both the painting and the Locket were paid for, and Catherine thanked Mr.Harris before bidding him adieu. When she exited the shop Elizabeth was waiting for her with the carriage.
Catherine carefully placed the painting inside, before they both entered. Now they could head to their second stop of the evening. The bookstore.
Catherine was extremely excited. Since money was no object she planned on stocking up on reading material for the next year.
"Ma'am?" Elizabeth spoke.
Here we go. She knew this was coming.
"Yes, Elizabeth?" Catherine responded.
"The painting is well done no doubt about it, but who is it I don't recognize her at all," Elizabeth Stated flatly.
"This might sound a bit bizarre, but bear with me," Catherine responded.
Catherine looked deeply into Elizabeth's eyes to assure her that what she was about to say was dead serious.
"Have ever had a dream before where you interacted with someone…and you were sure you had known them all your life?" Catherine paused for a moment to execute the point. "Only to wake up and have no clue as to who they were?"
Elizabeth looked confused, "I suppose so, at least on a couple of occasions."
"Well I saw this woman," Catherine tapped on the covered painting. "It was like- well I can't explain it too well, but I felt like she was someone very important to me."
Catherine shook her head for effect, "Usually the effects of a dream like that fade as soon as you wake up, but this…was different. I haven't forgotten her at all, and- I felt compelled to have this painting made before the image of her faded.
She waved her hand, "It all sounds rather silly when saying it out loud. Just think of it as a creative story behind a simple art commission."
Elizabeth was silent for a moment, mulling what Catherine said over in her mind.
"I don't completely understand Miss Catherine, but if you feel like it's something important. Well, there's no need to have to justify it to me or anyone else.
Catherine smiled. The bogus story was pretty weak, in fact, it made her sound more than a little peculiar. Maybe even somewhat off her rocker, but she was glad she could count on Elizabeth to accept her seemingly odd whims.
Not that Catherine particularly wanted to lie to her, but it was a given that she couldn't be completely truthful about her actions given the circumstances. Not unless she wanted to be committed to some kind of asylum.
"Elizabeth, do you think you could keep this between the two of us? Father seems a bit perturbed at some of my actions as of late, and I don't want to worry him further."
"I don't need to tell you that I don't like hiding things from the master," Elizabeth said sternly. "But in this case, it seems harmless enough."
Catherine was surprised at how assertive Elizabeth had suddenly become.
She…takes her job quite seriously, doesn't she? I might have to keep her in the dark more than I would like to. Catherine thought.
The carriage stopped at their destination reached.
"Well with all that settled let's buy some books!" Catherine practically shouted.
With that, she ran out of the carriage, with Elizabeth trailing after her.