Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire (46 page)

Elizabeth chuckled. “I talked to Mrs. Hardinbrook about her—or rather she approached and talked to me. She hardly ever does that unless she wants to inform me of some glowing virtue about her dear brother that I may have overlooked in the last three years.”

Mrs. Hardinbrook had the never-to-be-fulfilled hope that Beldon and Elizabeth might marry. “What did she say about the cousin?”

“Only general pleasantries of how
nice
it will be to have fresh company, but might it not be just a
little
bit crowded? She does like to clack on, you know, but it was a touch forced this time. I can only conclude that she’s worried her position as the household’s chief toad-eater is about to be usurped.”

“Yes, and if it does get too crowded, Mother will choose blood kin over her best friend.”

“Otherwise, what
would
people think?” Elizabeth did a credible, if supremely unflattering imitation of Mother’s favorite worry.

“Perhaps we may be sincere in our welcome of Cousin Anne, then. Unless she turns out to be as bad as Mrs. Hardinbrook . . . or worse.”

“That would take a bit of effort. Anne may share our Fonteyn blood, but please God, perhaps she’s been spared the Fonteyn temperament.”

“Amen to that,” I said fervently.

CHAPTER THREE

“Samuel, have you done anything about those soldiers on our land?” Mother demanded as she’d done every night at dinner for nearly two weeks.

“I have.”

“And what of it?”

“The situation is under the most urgent scrutiny.”

Not quite a lie, but hardly the truth, which Father confided to me some time ago. The Hessians currently sheltering in the old barn at the edge of our property would remain there until further notice. Without permission or even a hint of payment, they’d made themselves at home by felling trees and slaughtering those of our cattle that had strayed too close to their sentries. Father’s protests to their commanders were politely accepted, and he had come to expect them to be just as politely ignored. It looked to be a long winter ahead for us all.

“I want them out of there as soon as possible. We’ll be murdered in our beds and it shall be your fault.”

Thus spoke Mother, and Father had the great good sense not to respond to her statement. Since I was in the next room (trying to read) and alone, I was allowed the luxury of privately making a face and shaking my head.

“Oh, but we are very safe
,
Marie,” said Mrs. Hardinbrook. “I must confess that until Lord Howe landed I had my worries, but now that his gallent men are all over the Island—”

“Like ants on a corpse,” muttered her more realistic brother. He held to no illusion that the soldiers had only our defense and protection at heart.

“Really, Theophilous! We
are
eating!”

“My apologies, sister, but in case you haven’t noticed, it is those so-called gallant men who are causing Mrs. Barrett’s distress.”

“Well, of
course
there are bound to be
some
soldiers who may behave in a less than honorable manner, but I’m sure their officers keep them in line.”

“I think you’ll find the officers are quite as bad. And as for those Hessian troops—” He broke off as though realizing that a detailed description of their atrocities might prove more offensive than instructive.

“They
are
foreigners, after all,” said Mrs. Hardinbrook. “What do you expect?”

Like Father, Beldon now chose not to provide an answer.

Mother was quick to step in where he had fallen back. “To be treated with the respect that is due to any loyal subject of the King.”

“Amen to that,” enthused Mrs. Hardinbrook. “Perhaps, Theophilous, you have not had the chance to meet some of the
nicer
officers, and therefore you’ve gotten a poor impression of our defenders.”

“I’ve met enough to know that being an officer does not mean that the fellow is automatically made a gentleman. My God, Deborah, if you’d seen what had happened to that poor Bradford girl this morning—even the beasts in the wild do not violate their young with such—”

“Dr. Beldon.”
My mother’s voice came down like a hammer. “I will
not
tolerate such talk at my table!”

An awkward silence followed—a frequent occurrence in this house—then came the sound of a chair scraping over the floor as Beldon stood.

“I apologize, Mrs. Barrett. I forgot myself and let my instincts as a physician overcome my manners. You are quite right to remind me.”

It was humbly spoken and apparently enough to appease Mother. Beldon next excused himself, and I heard the dining room door open and close.

“As I was saying, Samuel . . .” she resumed.

But I stopped listening when Beldon walked into the library, his face flushed and hands twitching. He gave a slight jump when he saw me sprawled in my usual spot on the settee, mumbled something about not wishing to intrude and turned to leave.

“No, Doctor, it’s all right, I should greatly appreciate some company if you don’t mind. Perhaps you would like a glass of Madeira to help your digestion?”

I gave him no chance to refuse and was up and pouring the stuff myself, rather than call for a servant. Nonplussed, for I had never encouraged his company before, he accepted the drink and took a seat across from me. “You’re very kind, Mr. Barrett,” he said, cautiously.

I shrugged. “Mother is in one of her more acid tempers tonight.”

“You heard?”

“It was impossible not to.”

Now he had a turn at shrugging and downed a good portion from his glass.

“What’s this about the Bradford girl?” I asked.

Beldon was a gossip, albeit a pleasant one, but this particular subject was not one he was willing to explore. “I’ve no wish to be indelicate, Mr. Barrett.”

“Nor have I. My interest is anything but prurient, I assure you. Will the girl be all right?”

He made a face. “In body, if not in spirit.”

“What happened?”

“I . . . .” He labored a bit, then finally sighed. “I was taking the air this morning when I saw one of the village midwives hurrying along the creek road. As I’d not heard any of the ladies on the farms in that direction were in an expectant state, I made bold to question the woman about her business. I got a short answer for my trouble, but she didn’t protest when I came with her.

“We got to the Bradford house and found the girl in a much agitated state, but able to tell her story. As soon as we got her calmed down, we both examined her injuries and made careful note of all she said about her outrage. We got an excellent description of her attacker. Before another hour had passed I lodged a most forceful complaint with Lieutenant Nash about the incident. He said—oh, bother it to perdition—he
said
he’d ‘look into it.’ ” Beldon’s tone implied that he had little faith in Nash’s investigative abilities.

“You’ve spoken to Father about this, I hope?”

“Yes, and he’s also made a protest. I think his may count more with Nash than mine, but whether any of it will count for anything remains to be seen.”

“I think that it was most generous of you to do so much. I have no doubt that redress will soon follow.”

“One can hope. It’s just the girl and her widowed mother, and they’re alone but for a few house servants and field slaves. Their land’s just enough to support them, but little else. When one has no money, one has no power. I just wish I could do more for them.”

“But surely you’ve—”

“I mean that the girl has had more than her honor taken from her. There’s such a thing as innocence. She’s hardly more than fifteen and will likely carry this wretched burden with her the rest of her life. It’s enough to crack a heart of stone.”

“But not, apparently, Lieutenant Nash’s?”

“He’s a self-important little coward hell-bent on avoiding any problem that falls his way. I suppose he thinks that by not dealing with it, and telling his superiors that all is well, he’ll finish out this campaign with a promotion.” Beldon spoke with the weary confidence of a man who has seen much of the ills of the world.

“Coward?”

“Nash is coward to anyone in the army above the rank of lieutenant. I’ve seen his like before. He will avoid showing himself at a disadvantage, and if that means ignoring the depredations of his men . . . .” Beldon lifted one hand in a casting-away gesture.

I did not question him on that point. He’d once served in the army years back during the war with the French, and loathed to speak of it, which was rather outside of his nature. I’d taken his restraint to mean there was considerable unpleasantness associated with his memories. That he even made a glancing reference to his service indicated to me the depth of his feelings about the girl’s situation.

“Is there no more to be done? Can we not speak to someone other than Nash?” I asked.

“I suppose so, but there’s so much going on that I doubt anyone will listen. Poor Miss Bradford is but another report to those in charge. They’ve more pressing matters on their mind than to seek redress for some penniless, friendless farm girl. It’s also sick making to think her attacker is yet unpunished. He’s probably boasting to others about what he’s done and perhaps plans to repeat his crime.”

“Did you get his name?”

He shook his head. “She described him well enough, though. It was definitely an officer, from the look of his uniform. Had a scar shaped like a backwards ‘L’ on his cheek. Shouldn’t be hard to find him, but Nash put me off. I got the impression he knew who it was.
Damn
the man!” He finished his Madeira in a gulp. “Both of them.”

“Another glass?”

Beldon shook his head, drawing a great breath. “No, thank you. I appreciate your listening to all this. It’s kind of you to be concerned.”

“At your service, sir.”

He stood. “I think I’ll just check on young Jericho, then have a walk about the grounds.”

I lifted my brows. “No card game with Mother?”

He shot me a guarded look. He was well aware of how things were in this family, with Father, Elizabeth and myself drawn close to support one another against Mother’s ill temperament. As a physician, he was often called to treat Mother’s more severe fits, but as a toad-eating dependant, he had to pretend, like his carefully blind sister, that nothing was wrong. It often left him adrift somewhere in the middle of the mess, quite alone, and I felt sorry for him about it.

He perceived that I was not mocking him with my question. Such abuse came often enough from “dear Deborah,” so I found no fault with his brief doubt against me. He shook his head again and smiled shyly
.
“I don’t think so. Haven’t the stomach for it tonight. Good evening, Mr. Barrett.” His step was slow as he left, his shoulders slumped. Sometimes sympathy can be as heavy a burden as contempt.

I put my book aside and ground my teeth for several minutes, which accomplished nothing. I’d been doing quite a lot of that lately: nothing. Aside from reading, writing letters to friends, and helping Father with the clerkish work, I’d fallen into the habit of looking only after my own concerns and nothing more, though it did promote a level of peace in the household.

The peace was the result my “talk” with the kitchen staff so they would take no notice of me sleeping the day through in a remote corner of the cellar. It was rough sanctuary compared to my excellent bed upstairs, but safe from fire and discreet. Lying on the tamped-down earth there I rested better than a king. No longer prey to the distraction of constant fatigue, I chafed for something to do.

My early morning activities of exploring the sky above our lands had not palled, but there was a certain hollowness in such a solitary sport. To share the experience with a companion would have been a blessing, but that, I found, was an impossibility. My talent for vanishing was limited to myself alone. A few nights ago, Elizabeth bravely agreed to participate in an experiment to see if she might be able to disappear with me. She’d been less than enthusiastic, but balanced it with cautious curiosity. Putting my arm around her, I gradually ceased to be, but she remained solid as ever and shivering with sudden chill. We tried again, with me holding her otherwise phlegmatic tomcat. According to her observation, I vanished but the cat remained. Gravity compelled an instantaneous drop, though. He landed on all fours, hair on end and stalked off, highly annoyed at the both of us for the liberty.

“You seem to draw all the warmth out of the air when you do that,” she observed upon my disappointed return.

“I wonder why that is? Perhaps I could ask Rapelji about it.” I was not in the least serious, though, for then I should have to inform my old tutor about my peculiar condition. He had a predilection for collecting knowledge about all sorts of strange things. The blood-drinking aspect would certainly fascinate him.

“You could
try,
but don’t let Rachel or Sarah hear you or it will be common knowledge of the Island by noon.” Elizabeth’s reaction was such as to indicate she knew I would not discussing my secret.

“My dear sister, what Rapelji and his housekeepers don’t know won’t hurt me. I’ll keep my questions to myself.”

Myself, alone. I was tired of being alone. I was tired of being in the house. Any rides I took on Rolly were limited to the immediate grounds, as it was dangerous to go any farther after dark. I had no fear for my own security so much as that of my horse. Rolly was too dear to me to lose him to a stray rifle ball or to a greedy soldier looking to confiscate four-legged booty.

Well, if I couldn’t distract myself with riding, then at least I could stretch my legs, and I had a mind to walk a goodly distance tonight. After a brief pause in my room to ready myself with hat, stick, and spare coin, I made my escape in the ordinary way, out a side door. My only encounter was with Archimedes, Jericho’s father and valet to mine. A naturally taciturn man, he merely raised an eyebrow at my leaving. I nodded back and told him I was going for a walk, should anyone ask after me. His brow twitched and his lips thinned. By that I understood that Father would shortly know of my nocturnal ramble. It hardly mattered. Father knew I would be safe enough. My adventures with unfriendly Hessians were over.

It was much too early, and I was too close to the house to try taking to the air; also, the wind was gusty and strong with the promise of rain in it. I thought of going back for my cloak, but decided my plain blue wool coat would suffice. I was not at all cold.