chapter 17 a shocking discovery

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note: please don't hate Mark  for this unpleasant scene,  he wasn't really the one at fault here and there's an explanation behind this.

Last night, when sleep had been an elusive presence, and failing to push the memory of the strange, turn of events that led to such a disastrous evening.     i decided to fit the clothes and dresses i bought and while i was rummaging for the white bolero jacket in one of the shopping bags that lay on a messy heap on the floor of my room.  when i realized that the thin, fuscia colored silk halter top i pulled up was not mine, but Clara's.  she had left her purchases on the back compartment of the car when she'd ridden with us, and because of her haste to get away from Mark's  unpleasant demanor, she had forgotten to take it again.  

in addition to the yellow shopping bag with the yellow background, she had also left three other shopping bags, all from different boutiques on the same street we visited.

of course, having Eric, the private chaffeur, assgined to drive me all the way at Clara's house on the dead of night, was tantamount to rousing trouble. so i decided to wait for the afternoon to pass and get out, with the task of returning Clara's purchases as soon as the sun went down.

when Mark was still out on his Master of the vamp's duties.

and would not prevent me from seeking to shed some light on the previous incident, straight from the horses mouth;  Clara.

the estate was located near Mary Antoinette's old palace in Versailles.

and what an estate it was too, more of a palace with its. tall white domes.  high metal gates, perfectly trimmed hedges lining each side where a front yard should be.  and a nice, fountain spouting crystal clear water and with tiny figures of dolphins leaping in mid-air graced the sides.

inside was like stepping inside a museum. sculptures of men and women with their reproductive organ visible stood on its stone monolith.

expressionist paintings and an authentic looking replica of Michael Angelo's  Pieta, was on one separate wall.

the butler, an austere man with a shock of red hair and looked to be on the agae of decline, watched my curious tour around the living room, parlor, and the conservatory, with a firceness that would rival a hawk's.

so absorbed was i, that i might have explored the rest of the house, if an impatient Khan did not suddenly reminded me that i had four shopping bags draped around his arms that i had yet to return.

casting a last, longing look at the glass case filled with aLotus flower suspended inside it,

i headed back to the path which lead on the vast, green gardens where a variety of flowers in ever colors imaginable bloomed to life.

like violets, roses, daisies, bouganvillas, rhododhendrons, and honeysuckle.

it filled the air with a whiff of fragrance.

tall hedges cut into life size animal shapes were scattered in a semi-cirle around the flower beds.

this was where the grouchy butler had directed Clara was.

but i seemed to be going around in circles around the animal shaped hedges and flower beds without seeing any sign of her.

the i saw a small gazebo formed by a cluster of trees overhead.

i peered around. looking for an opening.  twilight had already descended. casting everything in a blue-black shade.

even with my extra defined sight, i was hard pressed on squinting ny eyes to find a patch of light.

i stood on tiptoe, one hand grabbed hold of a low hanging branch.

as if an invisible switch had been flicked on, the stream of lights i didn't know were strung along the canopy flickered to life.

like an army of tiny, fireflies glowing against the near darkness, revaling a sight that knocked the air out of my windpipe;

Mark and Clara, standing beside a long, stone bench.  their arms were so closely intertwined, it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended.

their bodies were pressed together and they were kissing.

i felt like time had stood still, and i was rooted to the spot.  as if i were a person about to collide with a speeding car.

i wanted, but was helpless to tear myself away from the scene i was cruelly being made to witness.

there was a painful sensation on the pit of my stomach that one experiences when they plummeted hundreds of feet from the sky.

my blood felt like it had just turned into ice.

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