Avalon Revisited (11 page)

Branch by branch, I scaled the tree until my head surfaced above its tallest branches. I paused a moment and looked around. All of London was laid out before me. Although the view wasn’t as great as from the dirigible or even the rooftops, it was a fine view. It was a fine city! It was a fine night!

I wanted to shout out to all of London my love, so I did! An assembly of birds resting in a nearby tree flew away at the sound of my raised voice. I watched them fly in a singular mass up into the bright grey night and reveled in this feeling of life for the first time in centuries. For the very first time, period.

“Home already this evening, m’lord?” Cecil said, surprised to see me so early. He took my proffered coat and picked a twig with leaves out from under my collar, looking at me perplexed.

“That I am, and Thomas is still out and about. I walked home. Do take the dogcart out and fetch him, would you?” I said moving toward the stairs. “Oh, before you go, I’m going to give you a letter to deliver to Lady Bainbridge tonight. I’d like to meet with her tomorrow afternoon.”

“Very good, m’lord,” Cecil said while hanging my now leaf-free coat on the rack by the front door. He turned as if to ask about the leaves, but I was already sprinting up the stairs.

I removed my gloves, sat down at my writing desk in the library, grabbed my stationary and a fountain pen, and quickly composed an invitation to Lady Bainbridge:
Dear Emily,

Please meet me for tea at 4 o’clock in my drawing room.

165 Knightsbridge.

Send reply in the morning.

Yours, Arthur York

I slipped the parchment card into a matching envelope, sealed it with wax, old habits and all, rushed back downstairs, and handed it off to Cecil, who was already dressed and waiting to leave. Good man, Cecil.

“I do believe Lord and Lady Bainbridge are in London through the end of the month. They have houses in Harrington Gardens. Thomas is still over on the East End near the brothel. I trust you will be able to find him?”

“Of course, m’lord.”

“Just drop the letter at the Bainbridge house, as it is too late to wait for a reply tonight.”

“Very good, m’lord.”

After Cecil left, I returned to my library, placed my hat upon my gloves, and walked around the large room, thinking. There was much to do tonight. Much to study. I knew what vampires were really like, obviously, but I had to refresh my memory on what humans thought vampires were. If I was to remain one step ahead of Avalon and Victor, and, more importantly, win Avalon’s heart, I would have to convince them beyond a doubt that I was not a vampire.

I had an extensive collection of rare and fine books. After all, I had been collecting them almost since the printing press was invented. That was before my time, of course, but my father had one of the original printed Gutenberg Bibles, and I made sure it came with me when my fiery niece took the throne. I did have a knack for sneaking about undetected, so it just disappeared from her private library one night. That was not what I was looking for, however. The book I craved was on the highest shelf, bound in dark brown leather and without a title anywhere on it.

It was my own collection of vampire mythos and stories throughout the ages, all in one place.

Mostly a journal with scraps and clippings pasted in where appropriate, it was as complete a collection as anyone had. Here were the most commonly believed vampire myths, although, just like most myths, most had nothing to do with the actual truth. The sunlight thing wasn’t fallacious unfortunately. Neither was the stake through the heart or decapitation, but the rest was pretty much pure fantasy.

Tonight, it was study. Tomorrow, dispel all suspicion of me as a vampire and position myself to help find the real killer, and perhaps woo the lady in the process.

After studying all night, I didn’t awake until one o’clock in the afternoon. When I sleep, I’m dead to the world. Quite literally. I already had two notes waiting for me on my nightstand. One from Lady Bainbridge accepting my offer to tea “with pleasure,” and the other an invitation from Avalon, just as she and Victor had planned. Cecil had left the letters as well as today’s newspaper on the silver tray. Before I even picked up the paper I saw the headlines. I couldn’t believe my eyes. There seems to have been another high profile vampire murder last night. Three nights in a row.
Police are baffled
, the article read. This victim was a man, Lord Walter Haldenby, aged sixty-four. That name sounded familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite place it. Certainly as a titled gentleman, he and I must’ve made each other’s acquaintance, but it somehow felt even more familiar than that.

I put his name out of my head for the time being, for trying to remember where I had heard the name was sending my thoughts in never-ending circles. I arose, donned my dressing gown, and went downstairs where Cecil had tea ready for me.

I took five drops this morning.

Taking my time, I read the article in full, twice, and tried to place
Haldenby
again to no avail.

It would no doubt come to me. In the mean time, I wrote a reply to Avalon’s invitation and enjoyed the rest of my tea.

I had Cecil send the reply back to Avalon, telling her I would not be able to meet with her this afternoon for tea and proposed meeting this evening for dinner instead, although that probably wouldn’t help dispel Victor’s suspicion, meeting at night. It would still be my preference anyway. It was more intimate and more conducive to my special charms. Since it was after sundown, I would need to be quite convincing of my innocence. After all, very few women could resist my natural charms. Failing that, my supernatural charms.

After my morning tea, I returned to the library where I had spent most of the night refamiliarizing myself with vampire lore. I knew, of course, the reality of being a vampire, but I was still unclear on what humans thought vampires were. The myths were quite varied. Some were completely ridiculous, like the idea that vampires glistened in the sunlight. Perhaps they did the moment before they caught fire. Still one must give credit for originality.

Other myths were more of the normal sort, pertaining to garlic, mirrors, crosses, holy water, and stakes. All ranged drastically as to how each of these things affected vampires. For example, some myths suggested that the wooden stake had to be made from a certain type of wood. Some said ash, others claimed it to be oak or hawthorne. One even said it needed to be silver tipped.

Regardless of the truth on that one, I didn’t care to find out first hand, but I gathered that any sharpened stake of wood would do.

The myths on how one became a vampire were equally diverse. That from a virus spread by the consumption of dead human flesh–the cannibal theory–to the number of times one was bitten by a vampire, suggesting that a vampire’s fangs held a sort of venom. All balderdash. Vampires are another species that predates most current species. We may even predate the human species.

Vampire origin myths are long forgotten. Antediluvian, no doubt. Not sure how I even know that, as there was no documentation. I never had a vampire tutor to teach me the ways of this new life.

Even the wise Linacre, who was quite learned and a fine tutor to me as heir apparent, wouldn’t have known such things. But somehow I knew innately. I also knew that vampires could indeed reproduce, as it were. They can turn a human. It was how I was made after all. Still, I don’t understand the science of the matter, but it does have something to do with ingesting vampire blood at or near death.

I thought about the more popular theories along with what was undeniable about me, such as the hue, or lack thereof, of my skin and my aversion to sunlight. As I looked at the papers strewn about my desk and my scribbled notes, my brain was formulating a new plan.

Indeed. That just might work,
I thought, then gathered up the papers and arranged them neatly back into their files, along with my large bound vampire journal.

Next, I pulled down my medical journals. I had just a few hours before Lady Bainbridge would be here, so I must hurry. For after my meeting with Emily, I was meeting Avalon, and she would try to make me. She was clever, but I’d think I still had the advantage after 350 years.

Lady Bainbridge arrived precisely on time at four o’clock. Just as I had looked down at my pocket watch to check the time, Cecil stood at the doorway to the parlor situated just off the foyer and announced her. I clasped the watch closed with a tinny snap and replaced it in the small watch pocket in my waistcoat.

“Emily,” I said, moving to greet her with my hand extended, “how wonderful to see you again.”

“I must admit Lord York,” she said, accepting my hand, “I was quite surprised to receive your invitation yesterday. After all, we didn’t even get a chance to dance on the airship.”

She was reminding me of how I slighted her that evening in favor of her niece, and none too subtly either. Still, she wouldn’t be here if she was truly cross.

“And that, my dear lady, I truly regret,” I said and then kissed her proffered hand. They were gloved in white satin. She wore a chartreuse dress with white accents that buttoned all the way up to her chin. She turned and gave a matching chartreuse parasol to Cecil. Her medium-brown hair was pulled back tightly into a bun with loose-hanging ringlets. A small chartreuse hat with a long chartreuse feather was pinned in place. She took my arm, and I led her to a small, round tea table near the front window in the parlor, but conveniently out of the afternoon sunlight. It was covered with a burgundy tablecloth and set with my fine afternoon china. Two ornate wooden chairs, padded with dark tapestry, sat on either side of the table. They were scandalously not skirted, so their shapely legs were bare for all to see. As I pulled out the padded chair for her to sit, I saw her large, beautiful bustle which was, of course, chartreuse. It dangled delicately over a white skirt.

Chartreuse: what a horrid color.

I sat opposite her across the table, dressed in black, as usual. My gloves were black as well.

Always black. Even the parlor decor was dark. The walls were done in such a deep blue they were almost black. The golden accents were that of a deep gold, rather than brassy, and they complimented the dark walls brilliantly, like moonlight reflected on water at night. A dark marble fireplace dominated the far wall, its mantle garnished with an array of deep red roses. The deep burgundy and blue rug that covered most of the floor created a warm, cozy feeling. I had spent many a cold night in this parlor by the fire, reading or writing at my leisure. Even the curtains around the window were heavy, deep burgundy, which proved useful in keeping out the daylight when necessary.

I liked it dark.

“I’m so pleased you could make it on such short notice,” I said, leaning against the table, towards her. Let the flirting begin.

“It was rather,” she said, looking out the window rather than looking at me. She was being coy. “But one is always glad to accept an invitation to tea with such fine company.”

With the last, her eyes turned to me, and we held each other’s gaze without speaking for many moments. I could already feel the heat coming from her, but still my thoughts went back to Avalon. Must stop that, however, at least for this afternoon. Lady Bainbridge must feel as if she was the only woman in the world. She may still be my best way to get to Avalon, and I certainly could learn much about my beloved through her. Mustn’t burn this chartreuse bridge just yet.

Besides, it has been a few days, and a man has needs!

“Ah! Here is Cecil.”

Cecil carried a silver tray with a steaming pot of tea, a bowl of sugar cubes, small sandwiches, and chocolate biscuits. He had a napkin draped over his wrist, so as to more effectively hide the blood-letting contraption. I’d be having no drops with guests, of course. He expertly placed all the matching plates on the lace-covered table between us while balancing the silver platter in the other hand, but Lady Bainbridge and I never took our eyes off of each other.

She was ripe indeed. Dare I say even eager.

“Thank you, Cecil. That will be all,” I said with a lazy wave of my hand and with my gaze set squarely on the chartreuse woman before me. I’d like to get her out of that gown, if for no other reason than to save my eyes. Still may not have time for that today, and I’d much rather Avalon satisfy those particular needs.

Emily broke our gaze first, turning again to ostensibly look out the window, but it was meant as a message to me. She would not let me off the hook so easily. Now the games begin.

“Did you have a nice time with my niece on the airship, Lord York?” she said, her voice purposefully aloof. She picked up a cup of tea and plopped two sugar cubes within. She stirred it slowly without looking back at me.

“I did. Interesting girl.”
With whom I’m completely enamored.
“Although I only spoke with her a short time after you left”
Must choose my words carefully. Build an alliance without being
too insulting to my love.
“Very interesting girl. Rather an odd bird, is she not?”

“My dear, Arthur,” she said, turning her eyes back me at last.
There it is. Didn’t really take
much, did it?
“You have no idea!” she said, reaching across the table to touch my arm as if to ensure she had my full attention. For the purpose of this visit, at least, she did. However my more honorable intentions were reserved for Avalon alone. “She’s my niece by marriage, of course; otherwise I’d have much more to say about the way she chooses to live... and dress. Horrid, really. If she were in my family, she would’ve been married, as woman should be. It just isn’t proper.” She sipped her tea, quite pleased with herself.

“Why isn’t she married?” I inquired, showing only polite curiosity, but my true interest in Avalon’s life ran much deeper than that. So, this was good. She thinks it’s her idea to talk about Avalon. Must keep it that way.

“She refused!” she exclaimed with a scandalous lilt. She set her tea down and leaned in, assuming the gossip position. She even lowered her voice. “She had several offers in her day, which is now long passed, of course. But ten, fifteen years ago, she had them lined up. As you noticed,” Momentary coldness. “She’s not bad to look at, but she refused them all. Said she had no interest in men or getting married. Ever. A modern woman, she. Rather, she studied and went to college, the gall!”