Escape to Ecarte Island

At Goldengate

       When Nora's father bought the Philbrook mansion to set up his postal company, it was in bad need of repair.  He took out sizable loans to bring the painstaking craftsmanship of the original structure back to life and was just nearly driven bankrupt in the process.  In the end, he could not afford an actual house for his new family, so the east upper part of the renovated mansion became the family's  living quarters, all 2000 square feet, including the attic space.
         So, Nora, although born and raised in a former mansion, had never been privy to the lavish lifestyle of those who were actually of such a social class. 
         The closest she ever got to experiencing such a life was on certain rare holidays when the Hodgins and Baugainvillea families, among others, gathered at Merrimount. It was one of three estates owned and managed by Dietfried Baugainvillea, and had been his mother's final residence.
          And then there were estates such as Goldengate, where the high aristocratic
Heinzephlar family resided. It was here where the Grand Showing was to take place and it was absolutely breathtaking.  To Nora's eyes it was also sensory overload with the lavish cascading gardens surrounding the massive villa that measured not in square feet, but in square acres!
        Captain Baugainvillea took Nora and her mother on a tour of the main floor galleries full of priceless heirlooms, gigantic paintings and sculptures that Nora had actually seen in art reference books.
               Dietfried stopped a great number of times to chat with other guests but not without proudly introducing her and Cattleya.  Most were very gracious, but a few looked down their noses at them, knowing they were in a class lower than themselves.  Nora simply followed her mother's lead.
              When you are looked down upon, raise your chin just a bit higher and never look away until they do.
           This tended to work, until they were approached by a man whose presence made Nora feel immediate discomfort .  Perhaps it was his haughty scowl.
           The man did not introduce himself and only gave Cattleya the quickest of interested glances.  Nora, he ignored all together. Nora was glad for it.
            "So, Presenter Baugainvillea has arrived." the man said with a smug grin, "Petrich Hollenburg's personal lackey."
             Dietfried glared back at him, but then tipped his nose up as if not at all bothered.  "If that is my title now, I am most proud to be of service to one of the most sought after celestial scribes in the world."  The man's scowl deepened, as Dietfried continued.  "Now, let's start again properly, shall we? May I introduce Mrs. Cattleya Baudelaire-Hodgins and her daughter, Miss Ellenora Baudelaire-Hodgins." Nora and her mother curtsied politely.
           When the man made no real sign to acknowledge them, Dietfried leaned forward and said lowly in the man's face as if he were a stage director and the actor forgot his line. "Etiquette dictates that this is the part where you graciously bow, and share your own name with the ladies."
          The man sighed irritably, and begrudgingly made a stiff bow and quickly introduced himself as Sir Reginald Morriss, Master High Scribe of the celestial scribe guild of Justitia Observatory.
          "STILL??" Dietfried exclaimed in mocked shock, to which Sir Reginald was taken aback.
          "And what is it you mean by that?" he wanted to know.
             Dietfried's feigned shock expression relaxed into a sly grin, the same grin Nora witnessed during the drive. "Oh. . .nothing." Dietfried remarked nonchalant, offering an arm to Nora and her mother, turning them away from the indignant high master scribe. "Come, my charming ladies, so many people to meet, so little time to waste on vermin."
"Hmm. Well, if Petrich had no opinion of that man, I certainly do." Cattleya declared.
             Nora let out a low groan. "Oh dear. . . If he is part of the faculty of Justitia, I'm afraid my chances to study there are, indeed, impossible."
           "Pish posh," replied Dietfried, lightly, "One can never know what truly lies ahead, just around the corner. Come! I'm giving you special permission to see the document I am to present."
         The extravagance of her surroundings may had caught a goodly portion of Nora's attention, yet it did not distract her from the conflict that would not cease in her head.
           It was a constant cycle of a school girl's giddiness of having the extraordinary luck of being in proximity of a real Celestial Scribe Hollenburg work, and the paralyzing confusion of her memory loss of the man living just right upstairs from her bedroom!
            It occurred to her that the excitement of it all may have made her brain act as though it had experienced trauma and, therefore, had blocked it out. Perhaps she had taken a tumble down the stairs at some point and suffered amnesia, but surely she would have been told of such an accident.
           Whatever the case, her memory of Petrich Hollenburg was simply gone.  She did not even know what he looked like, having never seen photographs of him at all, although she tried to imagine.
              Not that his physical appearance really meant anything to her. His brilliance and talents were enough for Nora to inhabit a rather severe schoolgirl crush regardless.  She had even written an ongoing letter to him she hid away from all prying eyes. It was pages full of her observations of his works she had studied and some in-depth questions she wished (beyond hope) he could answer for her.
                But all of that had only been a lovely daydream. In a blink of an eye,  however, it had suddenly turned into an unimagined reality Nora could not quite grasp. So, as she was led about the magnificence that was Goldengate mansion, Nora, by all outward appearances, was simply a lucky, young nobody minding her rules of social etiquette, while on the inside, she could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she grappled with many new revelations.
            Dietfried finally escorted them into a study away from the other guests where a painting sat on an easel, covered with a large silk sash.  A middle-aged man dressed in the traditional uniform of the county's Grand Marshal and another man stood in front of it, casually chatting with their backs toward them.
            "Ahem!" Dietfried interrupted, and both of the men turned, "Ladies are present, gentlemen! Have decency about you!"
             Nora heard her mother gasp and saw her hand fly to her throat in shock.
             And then Nora looked at the man she somehow knew beyond a shadow of a doubt was Celestial Scribe Petrich Hollenburg.