Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire (47 page)

Yet another immunity, Nora?
I thought, trudging off into the dark that was not dark to me. To my best recollection, she’d never complained of the cold, not even during the worst of England’s weather.

I left our long drive and turned onto the Glenbriar road. If I was careful and quiet, I would not need to worry about sentries until quite close to Glenbriar, and even then they were of scant concern to me. The ones under Lieutenant Nash’s immediate command knew my face, though God knows what else they knew if those two Hessians I’d frightened awhile back had been talking.

The walk was more invigorating than fatiguing despite the rough tug of the wind. I was not hungry, not yet, having discovered that nightly feeding was not always necessary for my needs. Every other evening suited, that is, if I did not indulge in skyward antics, which naturally roused a good appetite the same as any other exercise might.

I passed many familiar landmarks, marveling at them anew in the bright silver glow that seeped through the roiling clouds high above. Diffuse and shadowless, but occasionally uneven, it was like watching sea waves dance as the light fluttered over the ground and wove between the trees and hedges. I could have read a book by it, but for the distracting motion. On the other hand, why should I read when such fleeting natural entertainment offered itself? The book would be there when things calmed again.

The buildings along the lane gradually increased in number, and I caught the attention of a few dogs as I passed. Shutters opened or remained shut, depending on the courage of the occupants. As I drew close to the main square of Glenbriar I was challenged by two gruff sentries, but they recognized me and let me pass unquestioned. They were not the two who had called me “
blutsäuger.
”

The Oak was a venerable old inn that had started as a simple tavern back when the first settlers had come to take land from the local Indian tribes. It was said that many a grant and swindle had occurred over the tables there and little had changed since. Growing through the years, it boasted many comfortable rooms now. Mr. Farr, the owner, brewed excellent beer and ale and had a good cook, but alas, I was no longer able to partake of those earthly pleasures. As Glenbriar was but a small village, the keeping of early hours had been the custom, but no more. The soldiers had turned the inn into a kind of headquarters, and they kept whatever hours their mood demanded—usually late—which allowed me the opportunity of having some society outside my home.

“Good evening, all,” I said, crossing the threshold as I’d done often enough before my change.

The common room held all varieties of soldiers, divided into groups by variations of their uniforms. The British fellows held to themselves; the Hessians with their great black moustaches had their own tables. There were a number of familiar village faces as well, also crowded together. I saw no evidence of them mingling with one another unless necessity compelled. Because of the disruptions, outrages and out-and-out theft by our saviors, there was little love between the civilians and the military.

“Mr. Farr.” Smiling, I approached where he sat smoking at his favorite spot near the fire.

He stood, looking pale and awkward. Like many others in our community, he’d heard of my death and burial. He’d also heard my sister’s story that it had been a visiting cousin of mine of the same name who had died, not me. He was clearly in sore confusion over what to believe about the incident. He’d seen me since the night of my return, and still suffered from a lingering discomfort.

Without an overworking of my usual manner, I tried to put the man at ease. I shook his hand and inquired after his health and got a halting reply about the ache in his bones, an unfortunate reminder for him. The last time I’d been by, my broken arm had been in a sling. His gaze touched briefly upon that particular limb, and he made a similar inquiry after my well-being. A few of the other locals unabashedly listened, heads turned to hear my reply.

“Feeling quite the best these days, Mr. Farr,” I responded, cheerful. “Turned out to be only a small sprain, y’know, but Dr. Beldon is a miracle man. Patched me back together better than before. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help if you wished to consult him yourself.” I smiled, aware that my reply was a visible disappointment to the gossips in the room.

“Er—ah—yes, I s’pose I might do that some time, sir. Can I get you anything?”

“Not just now, thank you. I came by to pay my compliments to Lieutenant Nash. I hope that I may find him still receiving visitors.”

“He’ll be in t’other room there. Quieter.” He indicated a door off to one side. I excused myself to Farr, knocked twice to announce myself and went in.

Nash was nearly finished with his supper. Quite a bone yard of chicken leavings was piled on his plate, and he was in the act of washing down a last crust of pie with his beer when I entered. He hastily swallowed, coughed and stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Good God, it’s Mr. Barrett!” he exclaimed. His pleased surprise was gratifying. I hadn’t known what sort of welcome to expect.

We shared a greasy handshake and he invited me to sit with him. I declined his offer of refreshment.

“How have you been, sir? Arm all better, I see?” he asked, settling himself once more.

“All better,” I echoed and once again gave the credit to Beldon.

“That is good to hear. It was bothering you quite a lot that night. Figured that’s how we lost track of you. You’ll recall I said to advance ahead only a hundred yards and not farther.”

I’d been “helping” Nash chase escaped rebels then, and he was right, my arm had caused me much discomfort at the time. “Yes, I’m sorry about that. I got caught up in the chase. I’d make a dreadful soldier, quite unable to follow orders y’know.”

“Where did you get to?” he asked, his eye still sharp after what must have been a sizable flagon of beer.

Oh, dear
. The circumstances of this damnable rebellion had forced me to learn to lie quickly and well. I hated it, for any lie is a dishonor to oneself as well as the person hearing it, but given the situation, it was unavoidable. I’d have to bluff my way through.

“I’m not really sure, Mr. Nash. I recall trying to run down those murdering thieves, and then I got turned around in the dark. I think I might have gone a bit agitated from the excitement. Very alarming, that. I’ve lived all my life here and know every stick and stone, and then to get lost. . . .” I gave out with a deprecating laugh.

It came to me that my performance was reminiscent of my good Cousin Oliver. Though possessed of a clear and discerning intellect he tended to play the fool as a means of keeping himself clear of trouble. What an excellent example to follow.

“When I wearied of blundering about in the woods, I gave my horse her head and she took me straight home, thank Providence. Beldon said I was a touch feverish, y’know. Went to bed and stayed there the next day and the next, I was that worn.”

Nash appeared unimpressed by my suffering. “In your wanderings, did you stray up toward the north road?”

“I’ve no recollection of going that far. If I had, then I’d have found my way back without the horse’s help, for I know the land there.”

“Very odd, sir, for some of the soldiers there reported seeing three men that night. Two took off on a horse and went east on the road, and the third ran away inland.” Nash left out one of the chief reasons for our hasty removal from the area, which was that the soldiers had fired upon us. We would have hared off anyway, but flying lead had lent additional speed to our exit.

“Three men? Sounds like your escaped prisoners found help.”

“My guess is that they ran into the fellow with the horse and persuaded him to treason.”

“Persuaded?”

“That is, if he was a loyal subject in the first place. No one has come forward about the incident. My other best guess is that the fellow was another traitor and, aware of their escape, took the first available opportunity to step in and help them get clean away.”

“Have you taken steps to find him?”

“It did not seem necessary, as I thought that sooner or later he would come to me.”

I put on a skeptical face. “Most obliging of him to do so, particularly if he’s a traitor.”

Nash looked me up and down. “Yes. Most obliging, Mr. Barrett.”

“Any idea who he is?”

“A very good idea.”

“Why, then, have you waited?”

He took his time before answering, perhaps hoping to make me sweat, but I kept a steady eye and an innocent manner. “Another thought occurred to me that the gentleman” —there was some emphasis on that word— “might find a disclosure of this incident to be not only bad for his health, but of supreme embarrassment to his family. I thought that the gentleman might appreciate an opportunity to avert such a catastrophic scandal.”

“That’s uncommonly kind of you, Mr. Nash, but might that not be compromising to your duty to the Crown?”

“Only if the gentleman decides to talk about the incident. It has been my experience that given the choice, most men would rather keep silent than put their necks in a noose.”

By thinking of how Oliver might have presented himself in my place was I able to hold my temper in check. Nash had no idea of his own close escape from harm. “Silence has a price, does it not?”

“A reasonable one, compared to the alternative,” he murmured.

“There’s more than one alternative, y’know.”

“Indeed?”

I leaned forward into the candlelight and fixed my gaze upon his. Circumstances had changed; I’d misjudged Nash’s intelligence and greed. Time to end the bluff for both of us. “Yes, Mr. Nash, and that’s for you to forget about the matter.”

He blinked several times. I worried that he’d had too much beer for my influence to have an effect on him. “Forget?”

“Forget about the gentleman and your suspicions about him. In fact, you have no mind for him at all. The rebels met a stranger on the road and they fled. They’re someone else’s problem now. There will be no bribes given, no further inquiries to other soldiers, to the gentleman, or to his family. It’s quite for the best, now, isn’t it?”

“Eh . . . yes, I suppose it is,” he responded shakily.

“The fact is, you’ve forgotten all suspicion of him. He is a trustworthy and loyal subject of the King, and that’s God’s own truth. Is it not?”

“Yesss . . .”

He seemed a short of breath, his face gone red and shiny. I watched him carefully, worried that he’d been aware of what I’d done to him. After a moment, he appeared to be himself again, if not a touch distracted. I went to the door and called for another flagon of beer. When I came back to the table, Nash had taken on an air of puzzlement, as though trying hard to remember something important. I’d seen that look before on others as well as myself in the past—in the past with Nora. It told me that I’d have no more trouble with the man.

Drink delivered and pot boy gone, I resumed our talk, this time bringing it around to a subject of my choosing.

“I’m sure my father has been to see you more than once about the Hessians that have taken over our old barn,” I said, pushing the beer toward him.

Nash eyed
it as though undecided about having an additional drink, especially considering the topic I’d broached. It was a sore spot between him and Father. “He has, sir. Many others have as well, but I fear I can do nothing for any of them. The troops must be quartered, and better an unused barn than your own house. Everyone else has to put up with it; there can be no exceptions.

As he warmed to something familiar, his confidence returned and he ended with a polite, but uncompromising tone. There’d be no improvement for this situation. I’d expected as much. Besides, if I influenced Nash into ridding us of the men, it might look odd. There’d been enough oddness connected with my family already; I had no wish to augment it. Father and I had done our best. If Mother wanted the Hessians off our land, she could argue with them herself. I had an idea she might win, too.

“We must each do our duty as the King’s loyal subjects, Mr. Nash,” I said. “I just hope that the Crown will be equally generous in recompensing us for our hospitality.”

“As do I, Mr. Barrett.” Since Nash was into collections, not purchases, he was not responsible for paying people for their lost victuals. In any other time or place he’d be hanged as a thief.

“May I count on you to see that we are not ignored?”

“You may place your every confidence in me, sir,” he said heartily. It was a vague enough promise. I trusted him to keep it so long as it did not cause him too great an inconvenience.

“I wanted to consult you about another problem that’s come to my attention, sir,” I continued.

He made an expansive gesture, certain that my complaint would be within his ability to correct, providing a suitable sum of money changed hands.

“As you’ve probably heard from both Dr. Beldon and my father, a young girl was outraged by one of the officers in this area.”

“I think not, Mr. Barrett,” he said, suddenly cool. “His Majesty’s officers are honorable men and not likely to—”

“Listen to me, Nash!”
My voice, though low, cut the air between like a sword. The vehemence startled even me, but Nash . . . .

He left his sentence unfinished, mouth agape, and eyes gone wide and dull. I’d had enough of posturing and words with more than one meaning; some of my suppressed anger had broken through and threatened to escape entirely. Now that I had a vessel to pour it into, it was extremely difficult to keep it in check. There was a strong temptation boiling up within to let it free, but that, some instinct told me, would not be a good idea. Nora had once lost her temper while influencing someone, and the resulting shock to the other’s mind had been catastrophic.

The memory of that fearful encounter served to calm me. After a moment or so, I was my own master again and able to speak in a civil manner.

“Nash, I don’t care about the honor of His Majesty’s officers. I want redress and justice for the honor of that poor girl. The bastard who violated her is to be punished in full, and you will see to it. You’ve heard his description, you must know who he is.”