Never Forget The Importance of Style

5. Cat on a hot tin roof

Leone inspected his reflection in the mirror over the rim of a glass of white wine, slim eyebrows pulled into a tiny frown. Funny, he thought, he hadn't even noticed before that all those hours of playing racket-ball with the younger members of local society had given him a distinct tan that in fact looked extremely becoming. Not only that, but the sun had also slightly bleached his hair on the top and given him extra highlights that contrasted nicely with his darker beard and brows.

All in all, the effects of Shelinet society's recent enthusiasm for outdoor activities were highly flattering, and Leone exchanged a knowing smirk with the mirror. It was fun, and also useful, because people tended to be much less formal, not to mention generally less tight-lipped, after running for a while after an irritatingly bouncy little ball. Besides, Leone knew that he looked inordinately good in the fashionable white sports clothes; he'd been told it often enough.

But now was the time for a different outfit, and he turned slightly to study the jacket he was wearing. It was the dark green one, one of his favorites, but had he perhaps worn it too many times already? No, he decided; why worry about such things? It didn't look any worse for wear - it sure paid to demand first-class quality from his tailors - and the velvet lapels and slim cut of the suit accentuated his sleek, athletic figure too damn well to be put aside. A pale shirt and black tie completed the picture, and the reflection received a graceful nod of approval. These were the perfect clothes for a late afternoon stroll.

"Sir?"

Leone smiled to his servant in the mirror. "Yes, Torell?"

"Miss Shiryell is here and wants to see you, sir."

"Miss who?" Leone's eyebrows jumped incredulously. Repeating the name, however, was immediately made unnecessary by a whirl of blonde curls and rustling satin that rushed into the room and quite literally threw itself into his arms. Leone had scarcely time to place his glass on a small side table before its contents would have been spilled on his cream-white trousers.

"Oh dear," he muttered, mostly into the girl's mouth in between kisses raining down on his face, "what on earth is the matter?"

"I just had the most terrible fight with papa," she cried in excitement. "Oh, he was so formidable! So very angry with me, and quite annoyed with you as well, my own darling!"

Leone didn't doubt that for a second, but he'd rather have swallowed his tongue than said so. Instead, he arranged a suitably indulgent smile on his face. "But why, my dear?"

"Because of the absolutely reckless way in which you flirted with me during the entire luncheon today, dearest, of course that's why! Oh, what shall we do now?"

"Shiryell," Leone began cautiously, "pray tell me, why should we do anything at all?"

Her cerulean eyes went big and wide. "Why, Leone my dear, he was so very cross with us! Of course we must do something!"

"What then?" Leone gently pushed the girl farther away until she was about an arm's length from him, and placed her on her own two feet. He then proceeded to straighten his jacket and pull out a cigarette. "Besides, I wouldn't say I flirted. As far as I can remember, you were the one to do that, although I've warned you about it before. We don't want any fuss."

"Oh - so now it's all my fault!" The girl looked thoroughly insulted and ready to stomp her little foot. Leone just inhaled a lungful of smoke and shook his head slightly.

"No, Shiryell, I'm not accusing you of anything. Just reminding you that there's no reason for this to become such a dreadfully public matter. After all, you'll still be a minor for many years, and -"

"Do you think that I care?" Shiryell tossed her pretty head self-consciously, an alarmingly determined expression spreading on her petite face. "I told papa that not he nor anybody else has any right to steer my heart, and he -"

Leone took a deep breath to regain complete control of himself and quickly counted to ten. That was the best he could do. "Now listen," he began anew, "I seriously wish you did - care, I mean. All right, so we've had a little affair, but you are well on your way to blowing up the whole thing! And if you will now listen to what I think of -"

"I know a solution! The solution!" Shiryell began to practically jump up and down, face brightening with each bounce. "We'll be very nice and quiet for a while -"

"Exactly!" Leone exclaimed.

"Yes, and then when papa has calmed down again, we disappear together! Oh wouldn't that be so romantic? We'll travel north, to Chademien, and slip over the border and then get married there, you know the age of consent is different there, and then..."

"Then we'll be found, your father will sue me, and everything will be declared illegal. Null and void. Because you're still a minor," Leone finished the sentence. "Absolutely not. That's completely out of the question, Shiryell."

But Shiryell was not so easily converted from the idea that had totally absorbed her over the considerable period of about three seconds. Judging by the distant, slightly glazed look in her shining eyes, she was already seeing herself in bridal white, bouquets in her hands and hair, with a billowing veil to crown it all.

"Oh how romantic that will be - then, after our honeymoon, we'll return and apologize very nicely to my parents, and I'm sure they'll forgive us! I'm convinced that papa would grow to like you very much in the end, when he really gets to know you, darling! When shall we do it?"

"We'll do nothing of the kind!" Leone groaned on the edge of despair. "Don't you understand? I won't hear another word about it. Listen now, Shiryell - you've read far too many novels. Eloping is totally out of the question, and in my opinion it's now definitely time to call this whole thing off, before anything incorrigible happens."

The girl stopped in the middle of the room as if her feet suddenly had acquired roots.

"What do you mean?" she gasped.

"What I'm saying," Leone replied and calmly crushed the rest of his cigarette.

"But you can't mean it," Shiryell insisted.

"Why, of course I can. Most naturally I can. And I do mean it."

The girl stared at him for some seconds, lips quivering, then she began to cry.

"Now, now, take it easy," Leone sighed. He crossed the space between them, careful not to go too close, and offered her a handkerchief. "And here I thought you were a big girl, grown up enough to understand some fun."

"Fun!" screamed Shiryell in fury, and this time she really did stomp her foot. "So you have just been having fun?"

Leone rolled his eyes.

"By gods," he moaned, "please don't now destroy my high opinion of yourself! Because, you see, I thought you were one of the very few girls in this whole town who's not just pretty but also clever!"

All right, so that was rather underhanded, but it squarely hit the mark. Shiryell quickly swallowed her tears and bit her lip, crushing the handkerchief in her fist while trying to decide what to do. She was still furious because her romantic fancies had been so cruelly flattened, but couldn't help feeling proud hearing such flattery from Leone, a true man of the world if she'd ever met one.

Leone stepped casually to the spirits cabinet, all the while observing his guest from the corner of his eye, and poured another glass of wine. He tried to fade out his smile. It was extremely amusing to follow her train of thoughts, so very visible on her face.

"Now," he said and handed the glass to her, "let's sit down and have a chat like adults, hmm?"

Shiryell smiled uncertainly but took the offered drink and plopped down rather ungracefully into a chair, skirts ballooning around her as if she'd sat into an exceptionally creamy cake.

"If one is being reasonable," Leone explained easily, "one should be able to notice when the right moment comes to act. And for us, the moment has come, because this thing seems to be getting rather more remarkable than we desire, don't you agree? Otherwise -" he continued casually when she opened her mouth, "otherwise there's the danger that your reputation might suffer. Mind you, not that there'd be any reason for it, but you know how damning mere gossip can sometimes be, don't you?"

Shiryell nodded, looking half mesmerized.

"So, you certainly wouldn't want to lose your reputation, my dear. There's no way your parents would give their consent to your getting married, to anybody at all, while you're still so young. Besides, I don't favor hasty marriages. Too many good things in life are bound to be spoiled as soon as one wears two rings, and this applies to ladies as well as men!" Leone sipped from his glass and observed with pleasure that she was still listening attentively, this time not even trying to interrupt him. "And I wouldn't want either one of us, let alone both, to have reason to regret. Especially as I know I'd make an indescribably lousy husband. So I suggest that we now agree to stop seeing each other, and consider the matter settled. Right?"

Shiryell nodded again, automatically, and seemed to immediately regret it. But in the face of Leone's matter-of-factly tone she simply couldn't swallow her pride enough to take it back any more. She stood up.

"I think I had better go home now," she said uneasily.

"I agree, especially if you didn't tell at home where you are," Leone admitted and went to kiss her on the cheek. He was careful to avoid both too much passion and too little enthusiasm, and apparently succeeded rather well, if Shiryell's half-dreamy, half-disappointed expression was any indication.

"I shall go now," she repeated, and at the same moment the door opened. The timing was so perfect that for a moment Leone suspected Torell of eavesdropping through the keyhole.

"Pardon me, sir, miss... Sir, Mr. Haldann wants to see you," the servant said.

"Good gods - papa!" Shiryell wrung her hands in horror. "He has come to demand you to apologize, or something - papa's so terribly passionate! Oh, Leone! What shall we do now?"

"Take it easy, what else?" Leone said sensibly, fighting the slight frown that was trying to creep onto his face.

"I'll hide in the next room," Shiryell suggested readily, "and if he -"

"Let's not be melodramatic!" Leone interrupted swiftly. "I'll manage all right. Where is he, Torell?"

"I asked him to wait in the hall, sir."

"Excellent. Now you go out, Shiryell. Torell will show you where you can wait. You'll stay put until he has brought your father in, and then Torell will take you out. Right?"

Without further ado Torell ushered the girl out of the room but reappeared in a blink, without the other guest.

"Now what is it?" Leone asked irritably. He had an intense dislike towards such potentially messy situations. And when he was caught in one, however rarely, he felt like a cat that has been forced into a dirty hole where it must turn and crawl to get out, but where any movement will inevitably soil its well-kept coat.

The servant quietly cleared his throat. "Before bringing any guests in, sir, I considered it wise to mention that you ought to attend to your suit before letting anyone see you."

Puzzled, Leone went once more to the mirror. He started, then laughed under his breath and carefully pried loose the little star-shaped diamond brooch that had a firm and amorous hold of the artistically folded handkerchief stuck into his breast pocket.

"My oh my," he grinned examining the thing, "now see who's lucky! I've been eyeing this little beauty for a while now - and here it is, literally falling into my hands..."

"Sir, shall I take it? And what about Mr. Haldann?" Torell asked and Leone shook himself awake once more.

"Umh - oh yes, bring him in, please. I'll keep this for the time being."

When the tall man entered, Leone was standing by the little table, idly fingering his cigarette case. He lifted cool gray eyes at his guest who leveled him a stern glance under black eyebrows.

"I won't have it!" the man thundered as soon as the door closed. "You hear me? I won't have it!"

"Have what?" Leone turned around and nonchalantly leaned an elbow on the windowsill.

"You know damn well what, you scoundrel! You pawing my daughter - that!" The man slumped into an armchair and eyed Leone grimly. "It was absolutely appalling at lunch. Made me wonder what has already happened, or rather, what wouldn't have happened."

"Rather a lot has happened, I must admit," Leone confessed calmly. "But let me assure you that - how to put this now - her virtue is unblemished. And as far as I'm concerned, it will also remain so."

"Do you really think I believe you?" the man growled. Leone shrugged.

"I wish you would. I think you ought to have realized that actually it was your daughter who started it. Okay, so we've had something of an affair, but it's not been long, I've tried to keep it invisible, and now it's definitely over."

"Hmph," the dark man huffed, fingers fidgeting with the extra glass. He looked at it quizzically. "Has she perhaps been here?"

"Left a minute ago. She wanted me to run away with her."

"Gods, what rubbish."

"My words exactly." Leone pushed himself away from the window and grinned. "But you really ought to at least try to control that jealousy of yours, Dani. I was half afraid at lunch that someone might begin to have weird ideas."

"Oh yes? And next you'll no doubt tell me that you're doing your very best to make it easier for me?" Haldann seized him by the waist and pulled gently; Leone smiled and gracefully spread his legs enough to straddle the man's lap. "It was a very dirty trick, Sandy, let me tell you. Flirting like that with my own daughter! Even if you hadn't actually started it, at least you went on - you've encouraged her, don't try to deny!" He kissed Leone with gusto. "I could even say," he mumbled into the well-trimmed beard, "that you wanted to make me jealous."

"Trash," Leone drawled languidly. "You don't really need anyone to make you jealous, Dani. And I hope you don't terribly mind if I've let her entertain myself?"

"What if I do?" The man squeezed Leone tighter. "What'll you do then?"

Leone shrugged. "I'll just tell you that you shouldn't. And I won't go on with Shiryell anyway, she was fun to flirt with but now she's getting tiresome... To run away and get married with her, oh yes, really!" He laughed heartily. She'd been an interesting experiment, no doubt about that.

"You bad, bad, naughty boy..." Haldann pulled Leone closer and began to caress the front of his trousers. A slim tanned hand closed around the man's fingers. Leone sighed.

"There's now just one problem."

"Mmmh?"

"Shiryell knows you came here," Leone whispered, feeling Haldann shiver as his lips almost touched the man's ear. "Most probably she's waiting somewhere outside, anxious to see what you look like when you come out. This discussion shouldn't, reasonably thinking, take very long."

"Oh damn. I want you, Sandy."

"Why don't you go now and come to the club tonight? We can easily come here then."

"All right, you're right... why the hell do you always have to be right?"

As the door closed behind the dark man, Leone returned to the tall mirror, combed his hair and straightened his jacket. Why the hell, he asked giving his image a stern scowl, why the hell does everybody think you're so irresistibly tempting, sexy, desirable? If he were just a little less good looking, he concluded, he'd have much less trouble in life. Truly, the world was unjust.

But then again... He pulled a stylish tiepin out of a small casket and attached his tie with it, straightened his thin seal ring and slipped the cigarette case into his pocket - after all, maybe he didn't mind it too much?

Leone took one last glance in the mirror. No, he told himself, smiling his most charming smile, no he did not. His troubles were mostly small, and life in general was well worth suffering those troubles that weren't. By gods, it was worth it.

"I'm going to the club - should be back soon," he said and took his hat and gloves from Torell in passing. "Remember to take the flowers out of the bedroom, and don't forget about the sausages. He'll require them in the morning."

"Yes, sir."

Leone's cape waved in the wind as he walked down the street towards the town center, whistling gaily. It was the time for a late afternoon stroll, after all.