In my whole existence I have never seen a lovelier sight than my Louise smiling up at me before our lips touched for that very first time.
Her face was like the most precious of gems; there was always another facet to discover. On first appraisal she was quiet and demure, her translucent skin and pale green eyes only adding to the air of fragility that surrounded her. Yet, I realized later that it had been a mistake to judge her on appearance alone for there was a core of iron underneath the girlish façade.
I first met her at a dinner party thrown by my friend Ludlow Swift in honour of the famed illusionist Capernicus. It was the first and only time I encountered the man, but I sensed in him a great thirst for power that I knew could only end tragically. I once tried to explain this intuition to my friend Ludlow, but he was blind to the other man's faults. Perhaps he could not see the darkness in Capernicus because they were brother magicians, or perhaps it was because Ludlow himself had a great thirst for knowledge, and he wanted to believe that this was what he saw in his friend as well.
As dessert was being served, a tiny pianoforte was wheeled into the dining room by one of Ludlow's servants. A small child stepped out from behind the wooden frame of the instrument and sat down at the bench, smoothing her skirts underneath her.
I can still see in my mind's eye her tiny fingers as they began lovingly to coax a melody from the ivory keys. Then she opened her mouth and the voice that issued forth was that of a seraph. I was utterly charmed and spent the rest of the evening watching her every move as she sat beside her ill-fortuned father.
She was just thirteen at the time, but I sensed that our paths would one day cross again. Four years passed and then Ludlow received news that Capernicus had been killed in India, attempting one of his extraordinary illusions. In this same letter of loss was a postscript: Louise was now on her way back to London by train where she would take up residence with her new guardian... Ludlow Swift. Needless to say that this came as a shock to my friend. His son Henry was barely seven at the time and the Swift household had a full coterie of maids and butlers and cooks, yet it seemed the idea of having another child in the house was daunting to him. Perhaps it was that he was intimidated by the mere thought of having a young woman only now coming into full blossom under his roof.
I alone was not surprised at this turn of events. Capernicus would never have trusted another soul save his brother magician. For my part, I endured the days awaiting her arrival with great impatience and wonder. As barely more than a child the girl had enchanted me. I hungered to discover what she had become.