Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire (75 page)

My initial invitation for her to come with me had been prompted by a strong wish to offer a diversion from the melancholy that had plagued her for the last few months. She’d been reluctant, but I’d talked her into it. With the risks involved, though, I had second thoughts about her coming along. And Jericho, but it was different with him. As his owner, I could command him to stay safe at home; with Elizabeth I could not. She’d been persuaded once and persuaded she would remain. The one time I’d raised the subject with her had convinced me of her commitment to come. We had not precisely argued, but she’d given me to understand in the clearest of terms that whatever perils that might lie ahead were of no concern to her and I would be advised to follow her example. Had I not already made the crossing twice and done well out of it?

Too late to change things now. But as I’d heard from Molly, we were all in God’s hands. Sufficient unto the day is its own evil and all that. Or night, as the case was with me.

Elizabeth finished her piece. The last sparkling notes fled from her instrument and the contentment that always seemed to engulf her when she played faded. Her face altered from a beatific smoothness to a troubled tightness, especially around her eyes and mouth. I didn’t care for that, wanting her to be cheerful as she used to be not too long ago.

“What did you think?” she asked.

“You did marvelous well, as always.”

“Not my playing, but the piece itself.”

“It’s very pretty, very pleasant.”

“And what else?”

No use trying to keep anything from her; we knew each other too well for that. “There did seem to be something of a darkness to it, especially that middle bit and toward the end.”

That brought out a smile for me. “There’s hope for you, then, if you noticed.”

“Really, now!” I put on an exaggeration of offense. Having played the clown for Molly last night—seeming little more than a half hour ago thanks to my atypical sleeping habits—it was just as easy to do so again for my sister. God knows, she was in sore need of having her spirits lightened. Elizabeth’s smile became more pronounced, but it failed to turn into laughter.

Then it vanished altogether as she looked back to her music. “That ‘darkness’ is my favorite part of the piece, you know. It’s the whole point of it.”

She’d lost me with this turn, but I’d come to understand that a passage of music could tell a story just as well as a book. “An interesting sentiment, no doubt.”

Her gaze flicked to mine as she caught my wary tone. “Oh, Jonathan, do stop worrying about me.”

“It’s gotten to be a habit, I fear.”

“Yes, you and Father both. I’m all right. It’s been awful and I’d never wish what happened upon my worst enemy, but I’m sure God had a reason for it.”

“I should hope it to be a very good reason, because for the life of me I can’t fathom why. You merit better than what you’ve been served.”

Her lips compressed into a hard line, and I knew I’d said too much. “Sorry,” I muttered. “But I get so angry on your behalf sometimes.”

“More like all the time. I’ve worked hard to let it go. Can you not do the same?”

I shrugged, not an easy movement given my informal posture in the chair.

“You and Father have been of great help and comfort to me, but the need is past, I’m all better now.”

Was she trying to convince me or herself? Or was I hearing things that weren’t there? She certainly seemed better, especially with the trip to look forward to, but I wasn’t over the shock yet myself, so how could she be so fully recovered?

She wasn’t, then. She had to be lying. But I’d heard that if one lies often and loud enough, the lie eventually becomes the truth. If that was Elizabeth’s solution to living with the catastrophe that had engulfed her but thankfully allowed her to escape with her life, then so be it; she had my blessing.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” she asked, standing and shuffling her sheets of music into order.

“Quite a lot,” I said absently.

“I’m glad to hear it, I’m concerned for your . . . happiness.” She paused to smile again and in such a way as to inform me that she knew exactly what I’d been doing. My vague stories to the rest of the household about going to The Oak to talk with tavern cronies were but smoke to her. And probably to Father. Most certainly to Jericho.

“Very kind, but this is hardly a topic I can discuss with you.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“Because I’m a gentleman,” I said, with smug finality.

She chose to ignore it. “Meaning you don’t discuss your conquests with other gentlemen?”

“Certainly not. Back at Cambridge you could find yourself bang in the middle of a duel for a careless boast.”

“Ah, but I’m not a gentleman and have no wish to give challenge, so you’re safe with me.”

“But really—”

“I was just wondering who she was.”

It wasn’t much to ask, but damnation, I had my principles. If Molly could keep silent, then so could I. “Sorry, no.”

Elizabeth finished putting her music away. By her manner I could tell she was not pleased, nor at all ready to give up.

“Why this curiosity over the company I keep?” I asked before she could frame another inquiry.

She paused and made a face. “Oh, I don’t give a fig about who you’re with.”

“Then why—”

“Damnation, but I’m as bad as Mrs. Hardinbrook.”

Now,
that
was an alarming declaration. “In what way?”

Elizabeth dropped onto a settee, her wide skirts billowing up from the force of the movement. She impatiently slapped them down. “The woman worms her way around, asking a dozen questions in order to work her way up to the one she really wants to ask. What a dreadful thing for me to be doing.”

“Given the right situation it has its place, usually for questions that might not otherwise be answered. But I’ve discovered you out, rendering the ploy inappropriate.”

She shot me a sour look. “Indeed, yes, little brother.”

“Now, then, what is it you really want to ask?”

The sourness turned into mischievous caution. “I was curious as to whether you dealt with your lady in the same manner that Miss Jones dealt with you.”

Whatever I was using for a mind that night went thick for the next few moments. “I-I’m not sure I rightly understand your meaning,” I finally said, straightening in my chair to face her.

“When you’re with a lady and addressing certain intimate issues, do you conclude them by drinking her blood as Nora did with you?”

“Good God, Elizabeth!” I felt my face flaming scarlet.

“Oh, dear, now I’ve shocked you.” She appeared to be sincerely distressed.

“That’s hardly the . . . I mean . . . what the devil d’ye want to know that for?” This wasn’t the sort of thing one discussed with any female, but especially with one’s sister . . . damnation . . . it just
wasn’t . . . .

“I’m just
curious.
I was wondering about it, and that if you did, whether or not you
exchanged
blood with her, and what your sweetheart thought about it.”

My chin must have been sweeping the floor by then.

“Of course, if this is a breach of confidence, I’ll withdraw the question,” she continued.

“You can hardly do that! It’s been said and . . . and . . . oh, good God.”

“I’m sorry, Jonathan. I worried that you might be a bit upset.”

A bit?

“But I thought that since you’ve already told me how things were between you and Miss Jones that you would not find it so difficult to. . . .”

I waved a hand and she fell silent while I mastered myself. I finally understood her mood and knew that there would be no peace for either of us unless I answered her queries, however outrageous, with simple truth. “I’m just surprised. This isn’t the usual sort of thing one discusses. Why have you not raised the question before?”

“When this change first came upon you, you were busy . . . and later on, I was busy.”

“With your marriage?”

She snorted with disgust. “With my liaison.”

“As far as anyone is concerned, it was an honorable marriage.”

“Words, words, words. You’re getting off the subject.”

“I thought the two to be somehow related.”

“In what way?”

Time for less bewilderment and more candor. “Well, you did sleep with the bastard, as his wife, so there’s no shame in that, and for the short time you were together, we got the impression that he pleased you.”

It was Elizabeth’s turn to go scarlet.

“My conclusion is that you’re wondering if other women are also pleased with their men, so you ask me what I do and if the lady I’m with enjoys it.”

Her gaze bounced all over the room since she could not quite meet my eyes. “You . . . you’re . . . .”

“Absolutely right?”

She ground her teeth. “Yes, damn it. Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t laugh at me.”

“But it
is
funny.”

And contagious. She fought it, but ultimately succumbed, collapsing back on the settee, hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. God, but it was good to see her laughing again, even given these peculiar circumstances.

“All finished?” I asked.

“I think so.”

“Curiosity still intact?”

“Yes. No more embarrassment?”

“No more. If you speak plainly with me, then I shall return the favor.”

“Done,” she said and leaned forward and we shook hands on it.

The issue settled, I twisted around to hook my leg over the chair arm again, affording myself a view out the window. Nothing stirred past the curtains, which was a comfort. The events of the last year taught me to place a high value on dull inactivity.

“Jonathan?” she prompted.

“Mm? Oh. As for your initial query, yes, I do consummate things in the same manner that Nora did with me. As for the other, no. Though I take blood from the lady I have been seeing and she enjoys the taking, I have never exchanged blood with her.”

“Why not? You once said that Miss Jones found it to be exceedingly pleasurable.”

“True, but I’ve also surmised that it led to this change which has manifested itself in me.”

“But it was a
good
thing.”

“I’ll not deny it, but until I know all there is to know about my condition, I have not the right to inflict it upon another without warning.”

“But Miss Jones did so without consulting you.”

“Yes, and the
why
of it is the foremost of the questions that lie between us. Anyway, just because she did it doesn’t mean that I have to; it smacks of irresponsibility, don’t you know.”

“I hope you don’t hate her.” She said it in almost exactly the same tone that Molly Audy had used, giving me quite a sharp turn. “Something wrong?”

“Perhaps there is. That’s the second time someone’s voiced that sentiment to me. Makes me wonder about myself.”

“You do seem forbidding when you speak of Miss Jones.”

“Well, we both know all about betrayal, don’t we?”

Elizabeth’s mouth thinned. “The nature of mine was rather different from yours.”

“But the feelings engendered are the same. Nora hurt me deeply by sending me away, by making me forget, by not telling me the consequence of our exchanges.
That’s
what this whole miserable voyage is about, so I can find her and ask her
why
.”

“I know. I can only pray that whatever answers you get will give you some peace in your heart. At least I know why I was betrayed.”

We were silent for a time. The candles had burned. I rose and went ’round to them, blowing out all but two, which I brought over to place on a side table near us.

“Is that enough light for you?” I asked.

“It’s fine.” She gave herself a little shake. “I’ve not had my last question answered. What does your sweetheart, the one you see now, think of what you do?”

“She thinks rather highly of it.”

“It gives her pleasure?”

“So I understand from her.”

“Does she not think it unusual?”

“At first it was rather outside her experience, but not beyond her amiable tolerance.” I was pleased with myself for a few moments, but my smile faded.

“What is it?”

“She’s a good friend. I’m going miss her. Hated to leave her last night. That’s why I was late getting back. Won’t happen again, though; Jericho took me to task on the subject of banging doors at dawn and waking the household.”

“Father wasn’t amused.”

I winced. “I’ll apologize to him. Where is he? Not called away?”

“On our last night home? Hardly. He’s playing cards with the others.” Father was not an enthusiastic player and only did so to placate his wife. “Is Mother being troublesome again?”

“Enough so that everyone’s walking on tiptoes. You know what she thinks of our journeying together, at least when she’s having one of her spells. Vile woman. How could she ever come up with such a foul idea?”

Mother was subject to a most disgusting delusion about myself and Elizabeth. It was a source of disruption and great pain to our family, and usually too upsetting to speak of openly. I had a thought or two on the origin of her misapprehension, but was not willing to share it with anyone. “She’s sick. Sick in mind and in soul.”

“I shall not be sorry to leave
her
behind.”

“Elizabeth . . ..”

“Not to worry; I’ll behave myself,” she promised.

Both of us had come to heartily dislike our mother, though Elizabeth was more vocal in her complaints than I. My chosen place was to listen and nod, but now and then I’d remind her to take more care. Mother would not be pleased if she chanced to overhear such bald honesty.

“I hope it helps you to know that I feel the same,” I said, wanting to soften my reproach.

“Helps? If I thought myself alone in this, then I should be as mad as she.”

“God forbid.” I unhooked my leg from the chair arm and rose. “I need to deliver my apologies to Father. Will you stay or come?”

“Stay. It might set her off to see us walking in together.”

True, sadly true.

I ambled toward the parlor, hearing the brief, quiet exchanges between the card players before reaching the room. From the advantage of the center hall, I could hear most of what was going on throughout the whole house. Mrs. Nooth and her people were still busy in the distant kitchen, and other servants, including Jericho and his father, Archimedes, moved methodically about upstairs readying the men’s bedrooms for the night. Two maids did the honors for the ladies, lighting candles, turning down the beds. . . .