Fitoor: The Obsession

3: A GENTLEMAN'S WORD

"Could I assist in taking you inside, ladies and gentlemen?" Aditi turned around and her eyes met with a uniformed male guard. "Actually, that would be very pleasant. Thank you," smiled Mrs. Begum. The guard nodded certitude, followed by a loud whistle.

"Oi! Jose! Watch for me, will ye?" he yelled across the vast land that spread behind the gates. "Yes, sir!" a boyish voice echoed from the other end before a figure appeared from the shadows, presenting another younger-looking guard. "Apologies for the delay, madame. Shall we?" he asked. She nodded.

"After you." The guard gestured towards the long pathway that carved the way to the manor.

Guest carriages were allowed only until the gate, beyond which guards were expected to usher them. As they trod the path, Aditi continuously glanced over her shoulder to procure an approval nod from the guard, indicating they were going in the right direction. "Keep turning around like that, and your head is going to get stuck. No duke would want to look at you,, then," Ashraf whispered from behind, earning an elbow from her. After what seemed like hours, the guard finally announced their arrival.

She halted her walk. Her eyes needed no searching as they took in the body of the majestic building that stood in all its glory in front of her, right to its pointed top. Nestled in the woodland, as humble as any rock face in these parts, was a manor. With the classic vintage English exterior, it blended well with the surrounding nature that had embraced the structure; so much as though the flora looked it flowed within the mansion as much as around it.

"I shall take my leave now," he smiled, taking off his service cap and bowing down to them. "Wait!" Aditi halted, rummaging through her purse. "Here, please take this." Her hand held out a fair amount of dollars. His eyes lit up with joy as he refused the gratuity. "Ah, there is no need for that, madame. It is absolutely my duty and pleasure," he responded. He bowed down one last time and strode away, his ringing laughter sounding the night.

She stood by the black iron gates and looked down at the matching coloured envelope in her hand. An extra invite to the Begums' house had been sent by the stranger she had bumped into earlier in the day, with the sender's name being his initials. All she could wonder was how he had found the right address. Perhaps, the town was small and everyone knew each other. Following closely behind Mrs. Begum, she entered through the front door on the east facade, passing into a grand hallway.

The wallpaper was Victorian designed with Roman and Greek themes in the frieze on the ceilings and walls. The predominant colours were cream with tan and gold highlights, creating an interesting contrast to the original interior trim painting of ashen greys, tans, and black detailing. After a few more steps and turns, they arrived by the entrance of the ballroom. The doorway had taken some loving inspiration in its design, for it was not the standard rectangular shape, but the sort of archway that brought every eye upward.

She slipped into the ballroom, her clutch in her hand. It was big enough to hold an event with over a thousand people to fit in. The interior of the hall did not differ much from the hallways, their aesthetic complimenting the rest of the house just the same. The relatively simple stonework on the oblique ceiling danced in the flickering light while marble icons and statues looked down upon the mosaic floor of this ostentatious hall.

Aditi stood beside Ashraf who soon enough, had left to mingle with known people. Slightly feeling out of place, her eyes travelled across the room seeking a wonted face.

"You actually came."

Following the deep, foreign voice, her dark eyes travelled behind Mrs. Begum's shoulder. There the stranger stood in the aristocratic cutting lines of a great tailor, flaunting a rich black filigree designed vest paired with an austere dark coat as an additional layer. With Zafar by his side, he held a glass of wine.