The note had asked--or at least she hoped that it was clear, written communication being a weak skill--for him to wait and talk to her the next time he was at Brunnhold. If possible. Had she phrased it too much like a demand, and not a request? Oh, it was very nerve-wracking. At least when she made these sorts of mistakes in person, facial expressions and body language alerted her before she got too far. The kitchen girl wasn't even sure when, or if, he would come again. That made arranging anything rather difficult. She had tried to say when, precisely, she tended to be available, but she couldn't make promises and felt guilty about the thought that Uzoji might be waiting because of her selfish desire to show some gratitude.
Though it had been a fairly dry morning, for Vortas, it was brisk at this hour and she didn't trust the weather to hold. Autumn could be volatile, her luck poor. She knew that it would be the day she didn't expect the sky to open up and pour down on her that it would do so. She had no idea when or if the state of the weather would matter, of course. Maybe it wouldn't be today. Maybe it wouldn't be this month, or even this season. Aurelie still kept an eye out for their signal, a handkerchief tied to the branches of a tree outside. Truthfully, though she knew he would only come but rarely, she checked every day. It was nice, having something to look forward to. She would have to thank him for that, too. She checked so frequently that this time she almost missed it--Aurelie was too used to looking for something and seeing nothing. But no! There it was, catching her eye. She wondered if he would have waited, like she had asked.
As soon as she got the chance, the girl made some excuse and slipped away from her usual gaggle of young women. They were all of them blessedly free from a specific responsibility, if only for a little while. If her voice had held the tremor of a lie, nobody had paid her much mind. After all, what could she possibly be doing to warrant anything like suspicion? Aurelie Steerpike was simply not the trouble-making type. Nobody, including herself, could ever imagine her having secrets that were actually worth keeping.
It was difficult for her to not break into a run. For one thing, because the weather was somewhat cold and she disliked it terribly, though that wasn't all. The thought that she might be making her... friend? That didn't seem right. Just what should she think of Mr. Ibutatu as, then? Confusing, just like the rest of him. Whatever they were, she would be sorry to make him wait in the cold. Perhaps she should have suggested they meet inside, but the only place to find her there was the kitchen and that seemed terribly public. To want to meet in private was, of course, completely inappropriate, but her shyness about wanting to express herself overtook any other kind of shame she might have otherwise felt. This, too, was terribly baffling. Running would have been suspicious, however, so she settled for a sort of brisk, purposeful shuffling. The gait of a passive on an errand they needed completed as soon as possible. It wasn't too long before she came upon the little garden she often hid away at.
At this time of year, with the leaves turning colors and starting to fall away from the branches of the trees, it was not quite so private a spot as it was the rest of the time. Still, the general unpopularity of this specific bit of landscaping and the sort of odd location of the bench itself meant it was hard to accidentally stumble across. Not impossible, just difficult. Although, she had come to find some young (or not so young) couple had gotten there before her on more than one occasion.
"Oh, you're here after all...!" Aurelie clapped a hand over her mouth immediately after letting that slip. She had just been surprised to see him there, with as much anxiety as she had managed to work up on the way over. "Er--g-good morning, Mr. Ibutatu. Ah... Are you... well?" Shame stopped her dead in her tracks, though she did her best to smile as brightly as she could manage. It was always rudeness first with her, she thought mournfully.