Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire (50 page)

“You’re the hero of the day, my lord,” said Dr. Beldon, smiling broadly, taking his own turn at toad-eating.

“So brave and kind of you, I’m sure,” put in Mrs. Hardinbrook, also smiling.

As Norwood modestly accepted the general praise of the company, I drifted over to Jericho, who was supervising the punch bowl.

“What does his valet have to say about him?” I asked.

“His lordship’s valet, Mr. Harridge, does not permit himself to associate with Negro servants,” he murmured with icy dignity.

“Oh, really?”

“Mr. Harridge has informed the servants he does associate with that they may address him as ‘my lord’ should they need to speak with him.”

“He must be jesting.”

“Regrettably, he is not.”

“I’ve heard of this happening in England, but not over here.”

“It may be described as an importation of questionable value.”

“It seems not to sit well with you.”

Jericho held to a most admirable restraint of expression, but I could tell he was in the throes of supreme amusement. “Mr. Harridge is a great braying ass, sir.”

I had a hard time of it keeping my face composed. When the threat of laughter had subsided to the point where I could speak again, I asked, “Why should a man like Lord James keep such an insufferable fellow?” I knew Jericho well enough to consider his assessment of Harridge to be highly.

“Like often attracts like when it comes to servants and masters,” he said.

“Norwood strikes me as being an easy sort of man.”

“Agreed, sir, but you’ve seen him under these limited circumstances.

“Agreed, though time will remedy that, what with Mother insisting he stay with us.”

“And his sister as well.”

“I’d forgotten her. Where’s she gotten to?”

“Lady Caroline is just over there by the hearth.”

“Seems to be by herself, too. Think I’ll play host for a bit, then.” Jericho filled a cup with punch and gave it to me. “For Lady Caroline,” he explained.

“But this drink’s usually for the men.”

“A view not held in high esteem by her ladyship. She has had some already and expressed a great liking for it.”

“Let’s hope she’ll like a little more.”

Weaving through the guests, I made my way toward Lady Caroline Norwood and put on my best smile when she looked up. She’d taken a chair close to the fire and had turned it so her back was to most of the room. It effectively cut her off from any but the most determined approach. I was determined, for she was pretty.

“Feeling a chill?” I asked. We’d been introduced earlier. Her hair was also well-powdered, but under that seemed to be of a light honey brown in color. She was a few years younger than her brother, and delicately formed. Though she showed a modest amount of snowy bosom in the cut of her dress, she kept a shawl wrapped close about her shoulders. She had lovely blue eyes. They were much paler than I was used to, a winter’s morning compared to my sister’s, which were like a summer’s noon sky.

Lady Caroline nodded. “Indeed, Mr. Barrett. The roads were rough and the carriage drafty. I don’t think I shall ever be warm again.

“Some punch?” I received a sweet thank you from her as she accepted the cup and sipped from it. “Even in good weather the road from Philadelphia is not an easy one. It must have been an especially difficult journey now.”

“Yes, it was. I often thought it would never end. Your mother is most kind to invite us to stay here.”

“It’s our good fortune, Lady Caroline, and our way of thanking you for seeing to the safe arrival of our cousin.”

“Poor thing. She was at her wit’s end trying to get out of the city.”

“How did you meet her?”

Lady Caroline smiled in a most charming way. “At a tea party quite similar to this one. Philadelphia may be overrun with seditionists, but the rest of the population tried to maintain civilized habits for as long as they were allowed. Things were going from bad to worse, and several families resolved that they had to leave or be arrested by the rebels.”

“I’ve heard of such foolishness. They’ve no legal authority to do so.”

“Yet arrests have been made. People have been beaten, officials tarred and feathered . . . . That was no city of brotherly love that we escaped from, sir.”

“Certainly not. What prompted you to travel north, though? Surely a southward road would have been more appealing.”

“We had to go with the others—we were with the Allen family and Mr. Galloway—and they were all headed for New York to speak with Lord Howe. They want to persuade him to march to Philadelphia and secure it for the Crown.”

“That would be a fearful blow against the rebels.”

“Mr. Galloway believes so. Nearly everyone in the city is yet a loyal subject, but the rebels have made them too afraid to do anything.”

It had become an old story by now: a small group of knaves holding decent people in thrall with their threats and the frequent fulfillment of those threats.

“I suspect that this wretched trouble has provided you with a poor opinion of our colonies.”

“Not at all. I think it is splendid over here. This will die down soon enough, I’m sure.”

“How long have you and your brother been in America?”

“A year and a half now. James had some land holdings in his own right that were being adversely affected by the recent conflicts, and he had a mind to come over and sort things out for himself. I had a mind to see what the colonies were like, so I came with him. Our elder brother did not care to see us both gone, but thought we would look after each other if we kept together, and so it has proved.”

I myself knew twice over the thrill and risk of crossing the sea. The voyage was daunting enough for a man, how much more so for a woman? “That was brave of you.”

“So everyone tells me. I did not feel brave, especially when we got to New York. Such a sad place.”

“What’s it like?”

“It’s terrible and, as I said, sad. There’s wreckage everywhere, I don’t see how they’ll ever be able to clean it up. Wherever you turn are the ruins of buildings with their remains sticking up from the snow like charred bones. So many people were burned out of their homes, and I don’t know where or how they keep themselves in this bitter weather. I was glad when we left.”

The burning of New York had been a wonderment and a horror to us all, though for months before the British army arrived there’d been rumors that it would happen. The rebels had threatened to set fires to deny the army sanctuary, and they finally made good their threats one windy night last September.

I’d been out and about then, testing myself against the strength of the sky. High over the tallest trees, I was doing my best to hover in one spot despite the gustiness of the weather. I chanced to spin toward the west, and it was then that I noticed in the distance a lurid glow so great that that it pierced even my fog-shrouded sight.

At first I had no understanding of what I’d glimpsed, nor could I gain any better view of it. Each time I grew solid enough to see clearly, I dropped like a stone and had to vanish again to avoid a hard landing. The vanishing, in its turn, subjected me to the cruelties of the wind, and I had to fight to hold my place.

In spite of these frustrations, I finally grasped that I was witnessing a fire of awful proportions and that it could only be the city of New York that was ablaze. Like others afterward, when they learned the news, I was left stunned, not only by the wanton destruction of such an act, but by the depth of evil that had inspired it. I was afraid, too, for might the rebels, emboldened by this, do the same for other cities? Worried for the security of my family, I rushed home as quickly as I could.

All was, of course, quiet, but I was so shaken that I had to see Father. I was reminded of those times as a child when I’d waken from a nightmare and rush to his room for comfort. Child no more, but still in need of comfort, it went right to my heart to see the shadow of anguish on his face when I told him the vile news. It was one dark fear that would not go away at a soft word from him. Together we watched the burning from a high bluff on the shore overlooking the Sound, our hearts united in horror and pity for the poor souls caught in the midst of the disaster.

“It’s so much more peaceful here,” said Lady Caroline, unaware of my memory. “Except for the soldiers, one would never know anything was amiss.”

“But things are amiss. In fact, coming here puts you in more peril than if you’d remained in New York. We’re not that far from Suffolk Country, which is crawling with rebels, and just across the Sound is Connecticut, another of their lairs.”

“You’re not trying to frighten me away, are you, Mr. Barrett?”

“Hardly, but I do want you to be aware that though we are reasonably well protected, we are not safe. No one is, these days.

“Now you
are
frightening me.”

“I’m sorry, your ladyship. I mean only to instill caution. I hope that while you stay here you will take care not to wander alone from the house.”

“But surely the soldiers have abrogated any danger from the rebels.”

“They have for the most part, but on the other hand, though they serve our King, they are yet men first and thus vulnerable to base temptations—if you take my meaning.”

She did, and rather sensibly, though I was surprised at how coolly I’d been able to raise so sordid a subject to a woman, and a virtual stranger at that. This wasn’t the sort of conversation one expects to have during a tea party, but I found that I liked her a lot, and with that liking came the desire to protect her. She was a most ethereal creature, pleasing to the eye. In my mind she possessed a similar quality of wild elusiveness as Nora, and I found the familiarity attractive.

“Thank you for your warning, Mr. Barrett. I shall certainly be careful in my comings and goings.”

“What warning, if I might inquire?” Lieutenant Nash had come up in time to hear just that much of our talk. He bowed to us both. “If I may be so bold as to intrude upon you?”

“You are most welcome, Mr. Nash,” said Lady Caroline, beaming at him like the sun. “Mr. Barrett was explaining to me that there are more perils here than from the rebels alone.”

“Really? What perils might they be?”

She went on in a most easy manner and gave Nash the gist of what I’d said.

Nash offered her a glad smile full of confidence. “That danger may have troubled us once, but no more, your ladyship. I can guarantee your safety, indeed, the safety of any woman on this part of the Island.” By God, but he was absolutely sincere.

“That is good news, then,” I said. “Things have improved?” There was enough of an edge to my voice to catch Nash’s attention. Though he had no solid memory of our interview about the Bradford girl, he still possessed a lingering uneasiness toward me. Here in a comfortable, candle-filled room alive with many friendly faces, he’d forgotten that for the moment. My question served as an excellent reminder. His smile faltered.

“As improved as they can be, under the circumstances, sir.” To give him credit, Nash had arrested the man guilty of the outrage, and rather than a private flogging as was the custom for army, punishment was delivered in a proper public display in the town square. It left a lasting impression on the soldiers under his command. If Nash took it on himself to flog a fellow officer, then those of lesser rank could expect worse for themselves. “I do my best.”

“That’s only to be expected from an officer in the King’s army,” said Lady Caroline. If she noticed our byplay, she pretended not to.

Nash, his gaze tearing from me and settling upon her, bowed again and thanked her. She gave him another bright smile, her face seeming much more alive than before.

I suddenly felt and consequently knew that I had become superfluous. Though I was younger and—I thought—much more handsome (certainly richer) than the balding and paunchy Nash, the lady clearly had a preference for his company. Lovely as they were, women could be the very devil with their whims. Excusing myself, I went back toward the tea table. Elizabeth, however, was speaking with Lord Norwood, and it would be as much as my life was worth to interrupt
that
conversation.

“Never try to compete with a uniform or a title,” Beldon advised me.

I gave a slight start at his sudden appearance at my side. His accurate appraisal was not lost on me. “You’ve been watching things.”

“Only a little. Miss Elizabeth seems quite taken with his lordship, and Mr. Nash has apparently gained the favor of her ladyship.”

“He hardly cuts a dashing figure,” I said glumly, noting Nash’s overall stockiness of body.

“Any man in a uniform is not only dashing but an instant hero in the eyes of a woman. If it’s a comfort to you, I doubt if anything serious will come of it. Lady Caroline will hardly squander herself on an aging, penniless lieutenant. She’ll enjoy the moment for its own sake, but that’s the most of it.”

“You sound as though you know Lady Caroline. Have you met her before?”

“Sooner or later you’ll meet everyone you know a dozen times over, if you live long enough.”

“Indeed?”

“Most people are the same everywhere. Have you not met someone who instantly reminded you of someone else?”

“Yes.”

“And have you then noticed them behaving in a manner similar to that of another acquaintance?”

“I see where you are leading, Doctor. It is an interesting premise. So Lady Caroline reminds you of another lady you’ve met before?”

“She does. Untitled, but pleasant, though feckless and fickle. I hope Mr. Nash will not be overly disappointed.”

“What about Lord James? Have you met his like before?”

“He’s handsome and knows it, but seems to be not overly proud of his title, so that balances things. If he were, then I doubt your sister would have much use for him. She is too sensible to be impressed by pretensions, so I rather think it is the man himself who has arrested her attention. My sister is going to be most frustrated. A pity, that.”

This was one of the few times he openly referred to her hopes that he would achieve a successful suit for Elizabeth’s hand. Given their respective and opposite preferences that was an impossibility, but Mrs. Hardinbrook hoped on, regardless.