Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Picture ❯ Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Duo came to Trowa's the next day, but cautiously. He wanted no confrontation with wealthy patrons. He was certain it could only lead to another episode like Treize Krushrenda. The wealthy were always certain their money could buy everything - even people. He was not denying the reality that money was a means to power, but he wanted to be free of those who felt they had the right to subject him to their will.

He saw no fine carriages or anyone lingering about, who looked suspicious, only a penniless beggar who stood with his hand out for coins.

But he should have paid him much more attention, for begging was not his true station in life. He was an employee of Milliardo Peacecraft. He knew his orders and obeyed them. Waiting until Duo had left; he followed him to the Round.

Later that week he carried all his information back to Milliardo.

Duo was pleased that he portrait Trowa was doing was nearly complete. Ever since he had begun it, he had had an uncomfortable, even portentous feeling.

Today, Trowa told him, it would be done. He had told him that he was afraid of finishing the portrait might keep him from coming to visit as often.

But despite their genuine pleasure in each other's company, Duo realized that Trowa's real interest was in Quatre. Most of his quiet questions were about Quatre. Duo instinctively knew that Quatre had been here often without him. This, combined with the fact that Quatre's portrait was the first one Trowa had ever finished, made his feelings clear. Trowa was head over heels in love with Quatre.

But Quatre had the same questionable background as Duo did. Where could a relationship like this go? Trowa had little . . . often nothing. How would they live? With only the uncertain income from the sale of Trowa's painting, they could not afford to raise a family or the two of them.

Duo was shaken, but he held himself in check. It could be that Trowa was the only one in love . . . it could be that Quatre didn't even know of his feelings. Duo needed to talk to his friend.

He was so involved in these thoughts that Duo never realized the moment Trowa stepped back from the painting and gazed at it with a look of satisfaction on his normally impassive face.

"By God, I think I've caught you, Duo. Come and see."

Duo rose, stiff from the hours of remaining still, but so anxious to see the finished portrait that he moved as swiftly as he could.

When he stood before it he gazed it in a kind of wondering admiration.

"Is that really me?" he whispered.

"It's you as I see you."

"Thank you, Trowa," Duo said softly. "You are kind."

"It's not kindness, Duo. I don't think you realize how . . . how beautiful you are."

The portrait had a misty, dreamlike quality with a light beams and sparkles dancing over the picture. The boy in the painting looked like an extremely beautiful man whose beauty was surreal or an exquisite lady that was not of this earth. His hair tumbled around his shoulders, making his cheekbones stand out more prominently. The soft blush that covered them delicately with like look in his eyes that spoke of emotions for which words did not exist. He looked like he had just had the first kiss of love on his soft lips, and the haunting awakening was in his eyes.

"You have a magnificent talent, Trowa. I can't understand why patrons are not beating a path to your door."

"Perhaps," he said thoughtfully, "because the door has been locked until . . . until now."

He turned his eyes to him and caught a fleeting look of melancholy before Trowa quickly hid it.

"And where did you find the key?" he asked softly.

Trowa looked down at him, then back at the painting. He struggled to keep any emotions from showing. Duo was astute than he had bargained for.

"I suppose where all keys hide, in the depths of one's own self." He replied. Then he turned from her and busied himself gathering brushes. "I'm very pleased with this, Duo. I'm glad you like it. I should probably offer to give it to you, but I think I'll stick to our original agreement and keep it here."

"I don't care what you do with it," he laughed, "as long as you don't sell it to some rich person who'll hang it for everyone to see. The lady in the portrait is a fraud, and she's . . . she's not me."

"Maybe she's more you than you will admit. What lies behind your locked doors, Duo, and where have you hidden the key?"

"I don't know. Maybe when I find my key I'll come and buy the painting from you myself." He left Trowa and went into the next room to take off the beautiful dress that he would never wear again, he returned and picked up his cloak from a chair. "For now I have to get back to my life."

"Come back soon. Duo, what about you . . . and Quatre having dinner with me one night? To sort of celebrate the completion of the portrait?"

"Sure. One of these nights we'll be here."

Trowa nodded and watched him leave. A subtle fear filled him. Duo and Quatre were closer than most brothers were, and he had no doubt that Duo was the ambitious of the two. He knew Duo senses his deepest emotions, just as he knew Duo was the one with the power to whisk Quatre from his world. He couldn't let that happen.

Duo walked down the three steps to the street and to walk back to the Round. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he was unaware of the carriage that slowed as it came up beside him.

"Hello, Mr. Maxwell." The voice was deep, and Duo turned in surprise to face the man who had come to Trowa's studio and tried to purchase the half-finished portrait of him.

He smiled at Duo, and he was aware even more. Of how handsome he was . . . and how obviously rich. For a second a calculating look reached his violet eyes, and Milliardo almost laughed. For it was exactly the look he wanted to see.

"May I give you a ride home?" he asked pleasantly.

Duo was already wondering how he knew his name. He knew Trowa had not said it. He was curious about why this stranger would take the time to talk to him when it was now obvious that he knew just whom he was and what he was.

"I'm in no mood for games. The boys you're looking for are on Delaware Street. You can afford your choice.

You have mistaken my intentions. I have no other motive than to drive you home," he protested amiably.

Duo stopped and looked directly at him. "Why?"

"Because it's a long walk."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Milliardo Peacecraft." He smiled. "And I promise you I shall not lay a hand on you or try to abduct you. My carriage is recognizable. Attacking you in broad daylight would cause some consternation among onlookers." He laughed. "Consider my reputation."

Duo had to laugh at the way he had turned the tables on him. His ready wit made Duo feel a bit more confident . . . and besides, he wouldn't mind seeing everyone's faces when he came home in a carriage that shouted wealth.

Milliardo extended his hand and Duo was sure his look was challenging. He put his hand in Milliardo's, stepped up into the carriage, and sat opposite the blond man.

"Drive through the park, Segull. Mr. Maxwell and I have something to discuss. Then on to the Round where we can deliver out passenger safely home."

The carriage began to move and Duo felt delicious. He intended to enjoy himself. As they rode through the park, he savoured the comfort of the carriage and the almost sensual pleasure he felt as a soft breeze ruffled his hair and touched his skin. His arrival home was satisfying, and when Milliardo helped him disembark, he heard him say what he had least expected.

"Mr. Maxwell, I would very much like to see you again. Would you join me for dinner tomorrow night?"

Duo felt a moment of discomfort, remembering Treize and his "dinner" invitation. But now he had friends, and he knew better than to drink.

"Yes, I would like that."

Milliardo smiled, kissed his hand lightly, and then he was gone.

The night of the dinner passed pleasantly, and the invitation was repeated. They went to the theatre, for rides and to visit the museums and art galleries. Duo had never enjoyed himself more . . . and Milliardo seemed to appreciate his company.

Milliardo watched Duo with a pleased smile when he thought Duo wasn't looking.

Duo had a fine boned and delicate beauty, making him look more like a beautiful girl than the boy that he really was, but that was not all Milliardo was looking for. He found much more satisfaction in the aura of sophistication and quality that seemed a part of Duo. Duo was a chameleon, he thought with satisfaction. One who, if thrown into a drawing room with kings and queens, would become one. A perfect mimic whose ability to study and imitate made him capable of assuming different characters as easily as he might change a shirt, or in Duo's case a dress.

Milliardo already knew much more about Duo than he could imagine. It would have surprised both Duo and Dorothy to know of the unique contacts Milliardo Peacecraft had.

He could tell Duo longed for a life beyond the confines of the Round. He longed for all the luxuries Duo had never known. He had questions, and in time Milliardo meant to provide the answers.

One Sunday they had taken an afternoon ride and when they finally arrived bat the Round late that night, Milliardo stepped down from the carriage and offered his hand to Duo. Duo disembarked with the aplomb of a real Queen, well aware of the great number of jealous eyes that watched him.

He walked up the rickety steps and opened the door to the sound of laughter. Quatre and Cathy were seated at a small square table. Cathy held a deck of cards; some spread in a pattern across the table. Both seemed to sharing a joke.

"What's so funny?" Duo inquired.

"Oh, Duo," Quatre laughed, "Cathy is so clever. She's decided to try her hand at reading cards. She's set up a little stall of Front Street. It would amaze you how many people are just dying to have their fortunes told.

"Fortunes? You can do that?" Duo questioned.

"No," Cathy said with a laugh, "but nobody knows that. They think," she said with a mock mysterious voice, "that Amazing Madame X can see into the future. Is there wealth . . .love . . . travel? Only Madame X knows for sure." Cathy smiled. "And it costs a pretty penny to find out."

"Another way to make a shilling or two," Duo laughed. "Were you two practicing?"

"Actually we were," Quatre said. "Cathy has given me four different fortunes. I'm waiting for the one that suits me."

"Come on, Duo, let me show you how it's done." Cathy said.

Quatre stood up and Duo slid into the chair opposite Cathy, who was shuffling the cards. Then she set the deck before Duo. "Cut the cards into three piles." Duo obeyed. "Now, choose the one that holds your future." Duo tapped the centre one and Cathy picked it up. She pushed the other two piles aside and began to deal the cards out, face up in a single line across the table.

Both Quatre and Duo's attention were on the cards, so they were not observing Cathy's face, which for a minute registered surprise, then a faint look of shock. She was not prepared for what was happening, and she couldn't seem to stop it.

Vague, misty visions began to form before her, blotting out Duo and became so real she could not control the words that poured from her lips.

"I see a man," she said softly, " a dangerous man. I see . . . intrigue. You are walking in a dark place and you cannot see who is lurking there. Promises . . . promises. There is a portrait, one that reveals a secret. This man . . . No! There are two men . . . two men, both dangerous. You will taste fear and betrayal . . . pain and . . . and love."

By this time Quatre and Duo had exchanged looks. Duo was smiling, but Quatre was uncertain. Duo was sure this was a very professional act on Cathy's part and was impressed.

"There is a secret, and the secret brings . . . oh" - Cathy gasped and her pale face looked as if she saw something horrible - "death . . you must not believe! You're in grave danger - " At this point Duo began to clap his hands in applause.

The sound seemed to draw Cathy back from her vision.

"That is very good, Cathy," Duo said. "You can really make it believable. You should make a great deal of money."

Cathy remained silent and lifted her gaze to Quatre's. It was the first time Quatre had ever seen fear on the girl's face. Perspiration dampened her brow, and her hands shook. Quatre remained silent, because he wasn't so certain that Cathy was faking, that she hadn't truly seen something that had frightened her.

Cathy was shaken. She had played this game before. But never had she truly "seen" anything. The vision had come as such a shock that she hadn't been able to fight it.

After a few seconds Cathy swallowed heavily and smiled. "You should hear some of the things I come up with. Enough to make a genteel lady faint, and her handsome companion pay for a chance to gather her up in his arms" - her eyes sparkled - " and perhaps let his hands roam a bit."

"I don't doubt it for a moment," Duo laughed. "You are a very wicked person . . . and I hope you make lots of money." He walked across the room and sat down on a bench. "Cathy, you know so much . . . so many people, almost as many as Dory. Have you ever heard of Milliardo Peacecraft?"

"*The* Milliardo Peacecraft? Heir to enough money to buy and sell half of England? Good Lord, yes, I've heard of him. Rumour has it he stands pretty high with both the royal family and a lot of members of Parliament. Where did you come up with his name?"

"He's the gentleman in the carriage who has been coming for me. I've had such a wonderful time."

There was a silence so deep Duo could hear his own heart beating.

"A gentleman?" Cathy asked quietly.

"Yes. But . . . he's different." Duo told of his invitations. "Is this wrong, Cathy?"

"Not of you're careful . . .and if you know and understand that this has no future," she said softly.

"I do and I don't expect more," Duo said honestly.

"Well," Cathy replied, " you don't need permission from me or Dory or anyone else."

"Duo," Quatre said timidly, "maybe you shouldn't get involved." Duo watched Quatre, knowing he believed the fortune telling and was afraid this man was the one that meant danger for Duo.

"Quatre, Duo must follow his own conscience. We live together here, but we do not command each other's lives." Cathy looked at Duo. "We do not even give advice usually. I break the rules when I tell you, be very, very careful. You know that you will always be safe with us should any . . . problem . . . arise."

Duo smiled and walked into the next room to go to bed. As he passed Cathy he touched her on the should and whispered, "Thank you."

It was several minutes after Duo had gone that Quatre spoke.

"You truly did see what you told Duo, didn't you?"

Cathy was silent for a long time, and her voice was low when she answered. "Yes . . . I did."

Duo began borrowing clothes from Trowa's closet so he could dress in style when Milliardo escorted him. Quatre, Catherine and Dorothy watched as Duo became more fascinated and more charmed by his admirer.

Milliardo showed him the kind of life he had only imagined. Duo laughed and danced and watched. Watched and learned. Often he would catch Milliardo observing him, and he wondered what he was thinking. Milliardo would smile with a touch of admiration in his eyes, and Duo would feel a surge of pleasure. He knew he was feeling more for Milliardo that he should, but Duo couldn't seem to fight it. He was Prince Charming to his little Cinders boy, and he didn't want the dream to end.

And then, for an entire week Milliardo didn't come and sent no messages. Duo swung from pride, which told him that he didn't care, to anguish, which told him he cared more than he had wanted to.

Milliardo was apologetic; he had even brought Dou a gift. Duo knew he had no right to question him. He had made no promises of any sort, but still he wanted to vent his anger at Milliardo . . . until he had time to watch him for while. Then he realized that some shadowy thing was pressing on him. He tried to be his old self with Duo. He tried to enjoy the delicious food they ordered, but Duo knew by the end of the evening that Milliardo was aware of his failure.

When the carriage stopped, the stayed inside the velvet darkness.

"Milliardo, what's the matter?" Duo asked gently. "You haven't been yourself all evening. Is it . . . is it me? If it is, I prefer you to be honest. Actually I never expected - "

"Duo. I'm sorry. I've been in such a state. It's not your fault at all. My sweet boy, you are my only pleasure."

"Then what is it? Perhaps there is a way I can help?"

"No." Milliardo chuckled and took Duo's hand in his to kiss it softly. "No, this problem does not concern you. It is just something I will have to . . . to work out as best I can."

This was not the Milliardo Duo had known all those lovely nights. A great weight seemed to pressing him down. Duo was too grateful for the way he had brightened his life to let this kind of thing go on.

"Milliardo I am not a child. If there is anything I can do to help you, you only need to ask."

"To involve an innocent like yourself in an intrigue so diabolical! No, Duo. I know the how generous you are, but this is not a game, it's a serious affair . . . possibly dangerous."

"I don't have one idea what you are talking about. Don't you think it would be fair to explain it to me at least?"

"All right. It's true. I've treated you badly, and you do have a right to know why."

"Are you in . . . some kind of trouble?"

"Not really, but I could have a very serious problem, I . . . it sounds like bragging, but I do have a great deal of influence at court. There are those who would like to make use of it. That is why I curse myself for getting into this position."

"Curse yourself? What position?"

Milliardo turned to Duo and took his hands in his. "Duo . . . I . . . I've made a very bad mistake. I accepted letters . . . wrote letters to . . . to people who are now under suspicion of treason. If my letters are found, given to authorities, I could be ruined."

"Then destroy them."

"How I wish I could."

"What can't you?"

"They've been stolen."

"Stolen!"

"Yes. The worst of it is that I know who stole them, but I'm being blackmailed. He doesn't want them destroyed; he wants to use them to buy what influence I have."

"You know who stole the letters?"

"Oh, I know. He is a relentless man. A traitor himself. I would challenge him if I were not afraid there were others involved who would use the letters as ruthlessly as he would."

"But, Milliardo." Duo smiled for the first time. "Why not steal them back?"

"Sounds simple, except that I don't know where he has hidden them. He knows every friend I have. What I need is someone he does not know. Someone who could gain his confidence and find out where the scoundrel has hidden them."

"This man is important?"

"Yes."

"Milliardo, you can't let him do this to you. You have a fine reputation. You must . . . do whatever is necessary."

"Yes, of course." Milliardo laughed bitterly. "He is susceptible to a pretty face. Shall I hire some beauty to get his confidence and steal the papers back? Most beautiful people are not as accomplished as that."

Duo sat thoughtfully for a while and then spoke softly, as much to himself as to Milliardo. "What you need . . . is a pretty face . . . and a thief."

"To put it succinctly, yes."

"You . . . you know so little about me. You've only known me for a few weeks."

"I know you are sweet and beautiful, and I have come to care a great deal for you. I am sorry to have burdened you with all this. It is a problem I must find my own way out of. You are compassionate enough to listen."

"You . . . you have come to care for me?"

"More than I am free to express now. If I am destroyed, I would not want your name connected with mine. I would not hurt you that way. When I am free of this, then we can speak of the future."

Duo felt bubbly excitement course through him. Milliardo had come close to saying he loved him. It was like opening a door and seeing all he had ever dreamed of before him. All he had to do . . . was reach for it."

"No . . . Milliardo, you must listen to me. I want to help you."

"Help me?" He touched Duo's cheek with gentle fingers. "You are kind, my love, but there is nothing you can do. Besides, as I said, I could not stand to see you hurt in any way. He is not . . . he is an unsavoury - "

"Ugly?"

"Good Lord, no. And he had more than most men in terms of wealth and social position. He has a reputation among chosen few that is difficult to believe. But he is still greedy and more, he doesn't care who he hurts to get it."

"But you are helpless against him because he watches you closely, and knows everyone in your circle of friends."

"That is the way of it."

"But he doesn't know me."

"You! Duo you can't be serious?"

"I couldn't be more serious than I am right now. Milliardo, as I said, you know so little about me. Do you think I live a sheltered life" - he gestured about him - "here in the Round? How do you think I earn my living? You know I am not a . . . you must realize I make money somehow."

"I never thought about it. I felt you must have some family . . . or - "

"Well, I have a family of sorts. But not blood relations. All of the people here in the Round are my family. They are the only ones who extended a hand to Quatre and me when we were desperate and hungry."

"Quatre?"

"My dearest friend. We were wandering the streets, lost and hungry when Dorothy found us."

"Dorothy?"

"My" - Duo smiled - "mother, sister, friend, confidante . . . savoir. Without her, Quatre and I would be . . . well, who knows? Dorothy has taught me many things. How to survive is probably the most important." He bent close as he spoke to him and deftly relieved him of both his purse and his gold watch. Than he held them up before them. "And this is what I have learned."

"Good Lord, I never felt a thing."

"And if we were on the street you know never know your belongings were missing until I was safely away counting your money and selling your watch."

Duo waited for his reaction, his heart pounding. This was not exactly the sort of thing one revealed to a gentleman in whom one had a interest. He wondered if he had destroyed his good impression of himself.

But Milliardo finally chuckled softly; then he drew Duo into his arms and kissed him. The kiss was a gentle tasting of his lips, and he felt none of the panic he had known when Treize had assaulted him. Milliardo tasted clean and a bit of mint and tobacco. The kiss was more pleasant than he had expected. His heart fluttered, and he moved into the comfort of Milliardo's arms.

"How difficult your life must have been, Duo. I'm sorry. I would like to take you away from all that you the life you richly deserve."

Duo heard the regret in his voice and knew that the only thing that stood between him and all the happiness he'd ever dreamed of was a heartless blackmailed and a packet of letters. He set his mind to convince Milliardo that he could do something about the situation.

"But we can't have a future if this man has his way. Please, let me help you."

"But I don't see - " he began.

"Look at everything you've said. You need someone he doesn't recognize as your friend. You need someone who is free to gain his confidence, and . . . most important of all . . . you need a thief who knows what they're doing and isn't afraid to do it. You need me."

"I don't like you thinking of yourself in such a way. Circumstances have made you do things you are too gentle and sweet to do. Why should I place more burden on your shoulders? No, Duo, it is too much to ask."

"You are not being fair to me, you know." He replied.

"Fair to you! Of course I'm being fair to you. What man would ask the man he" - Milliardo paused - " the man he loves to do such a dangerous thing. If you are caught, then I would be dragging you down with me."

"If you loved me, you would see how deeply I want to help you. You can't possibly believe that if I were caught, I would confess all? No one would even know my purpose but me. If you loved me, you would try to understand, and you would accept my offer . . . along with the love that accompanies it."

"Duo," he said softly, "you love me?"

"Yes, Milliardo," he replied, convinced that his love was a castle built on solid rock. "But if I cannot help you. If you will shut me off from such a painful part of your life . . . then I will not see you again."

"Duo!"

"This is how it must be."

"Your terms are harsh. You know I cannot let you go."

"Then," he said hopefully, "you will agree?"

"Agree or lose you. That is hardly a choice," he said, his voice tinged with anger. "But you must see that you are kept as safe as possible. I must undertake to teach you all you know need to know to blend into his world. He is a very clever man, Duo, and should he suspect you . . . well . . . he is ruthless and merciless in his self-defense."

"I will be more than careful, and I'm confident that you can teach me all that I need to know. Together we will erase the hold this heartless man has over you. When it is done, we will laugh and let him know of our success."

"You are a vengeful little baggage," Milliardo finally laughed, and Duo was pleased.

"Against those who would harm me or mine, yes, I am. I have learned the lessons of the streets well. What is yours, protect with all the will that you have."

"When this is over, I promise I will do my best never to make you angry with me."

"And then we can marry," Duo said softly. If Milliardo could have viewed his face clearly, he would have seen it awash with adoration. Milliardo was his dream come true, and when the agreement was finalized, he melted into his arms and returned his kiss with an innocent fervour that stirred Milliardo's senses. He let him go reluctantly, knowing this was not the right thing or place to consummate their feelings.

Milliardo left his carriage in to stable of his mansion and crossed the lawn to enter the house through French doors that led to a huge ballroom. He crossed the polished parquet floor and stepped out of the majestic room into the huge foyer.

He crossed the foyer and was about to enter his library for a much-needed brandy when a voice behind him made him pause and turn around.

"Mr. Peacecraft, sir." The voice belonged to a tall, white-haired man who had been the family servant for nearly twenty years.

"What is it, Pagen?"

"I've waited, sir, in case there was anything you might want before I retire."

"No . . . no. Go to bed. I'm fine."

When Pagen had gone, Milliardo went into the library to pour himself a hefty glass of brandy. He carried it with him as he walked to stand before the huge casement windows that looked over a perfectly manicured garden. The roses were in bloom, and the scent on the night air reminded him of Duo.

Sweet, beautiful, unselfish Duo. A man who would do for the one he loved what he had planned was rare indeed. Milliardo was more that pleased with the quirk of fate that had brought Duo into his life.

The taste of his soft lips was still on his mouth, and he could feel the kisses he'd given him with each new taste of brandy.

Would it work? Would he be able to find the packet of letters that meant so much to him? This was the first moment he had actually begun to believe there might be a way to solve his problem.

"Damn you, Heero Yuy. Let's see who wins this little game."

He drank the last of his brandy and went to pour himself another.

He loosened his cravat and discarded his jacket. Then he went to his desk to write two necessary letters that would be posted the next day. Folded and sealed, the lay on his desk while he again reached for the brandy. He raised the glass before him, contemplating the amber liquid, and smiled.

"To you, Duo," he said softly. "To you and to the end of all my problems."

Yeah, yeah. I know. I tweaked with the timeline. I made homosexual marriages acceptable. In all times.