Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire (68 page)

I started to speak, but he raised one hand.

“No, please, I just wanted to apologize for her behavior. I’m sorry if she’s caused any distress to your family, especially to your dear sister. I also wanted to say that I’m glad that you did speak to her just now. It’s . . . long overdue. My chief regret is that I have not been more firm with her in the past.”

“I . . . don’t know what to say, sir,” I muttered. “If I have been overly brusque with—”

“No, you spoke your mind and that was what was needed.”

“You’re uncommonly kind, sir.” I meant that, too. Had circumstances been different we might have had to fight a duel over the matter. Of course my gift would have prevented that, but for Beldon to take this attitude . . . once again I felt the portion of respect I’d come to have for him increase a bit more.

“As you have been to me, sir, many, many times over.” I knew that he harbored a genuine affection for my family, but often as not his natural reticence prevented him from expressing it. I also knew that he harbored a particularly deep affection for me, but had never once acted on it. Now he did look square upon me, and I saw what it cost him to be so direct. He was skimming rather close to issues that we had long since closed the door upon and was perhaps afraid I might misinterpret his gratitude for something else.

I smiled back at him, offering reassurance. “ ’Tis my honor to do so, sir,” I said, and gave a most correct bow.

His relief was hardly subtle; his shoulders visibly relaxed, and a tentative smile crept over his own worried features. “Thank you, Mr. Barrett.”

“At your service, Dr. Beldon.”

“Good night, then.”

“And to you.” Having apparently forgotten the errand that had taken him out to start with, he went into his room. With a light step.

Well-a-day
, I thought again.

Despite his sometime toad-eating manner, I’d gradually come to regard Beldon as a friend, never more so than now. I’d influenced him before, but only to protect the secret of my changed nature. Such intrusions on so inoffensive a man often plagued my conscience; I was happy to forgo another experience. Thank heavens for his parochial mind, that he’d seen no more than what had seemed natural to him and had not attributed anything
outré
to it.

With an equally light step, I made my way downstairs, so vastly relieved that I forgot the late hour and began to whistle.

* * *

Nights came and went swiftly, blurring together so that I sometimes had the illusion of living through one lengthy night punctuated only by changes of clothes. The conversations all seemed to be the same, since they concerned but one topic: the wedding. The people were certainly the same. It might have been tedious, but my past experiences had taught me a hard lesson on the priceless value of boredom. Better to be inactive and at peace in the world than to be subjected to the frantic racing about brought on by thunderous catastrophe.

Father saw to his law practice, Elizabeth sewed on her dress and I kept them company or went down to The Oak to hear the news and pick up the meager post. As expected, Mrs. Hardinbrook ceased to be hatefully annoying and looked after Mother, who had come to be remarkably restrained in her manner.

This, in a perverse way, was as worrisome as her uncontrolled fits, for I thought Mother might still be suffering from fright. I tried to catch her eye now and then, but gaze would slide past as though I were not there. She played cards, or sewed, or gossiped when such friends as she had came calling, but if she were afraid of me, it did not show. Several times I overheard her requesting more sleeping draughts from Beldon, but they must have had an indifferent effect on her, for I continued to hear her moving about in her room late at night and into the early morning hours. She looked haggard from the lack of sleep and was more withdrawn than before.

No one else marked it, though, being so busy with their own projects, and I had no plans to draw it to anyone’s attention. After a time I came to consider it to be just another in a series of unpleasant incidents no one ever talked about and was content to let life run on as usual.

There were plenty of genteel distractions in the early hours of the shortening summer evenings. Cousin Anne persuaded me to join her in reading Shakespeare to the others by way of entertainment. Her first choice was the first play I’d recommended,
Twelfth Night,
and she turned out to be something of a natural actress—once she understood what she was saying. Of course, most of the base jokes in the text escaped her and the whole room had a moment of bald embarrassment when she stopped the reading once to ask the meaning of the word “eunuch.”

Elizabeth, gallantly stifling a laugh, came to my rescue, saying that it was a boy who would never grow to become a man. Anne’s comprehension of the accurate definition was questionable, but we continued with no further pauses. Afterward, she sought out Elizabeth for a highly intense conversation, having apparently sensed there was more to be learned.

I found myself too curious to resist. When Anne finished and glided off, I moved in. “What did she ask this time?”

Elizabeth kept her laughter quiet and kindly. “Goodness, she should be more observant about what’s going on around her here in the country. Then she’d know about these things.”

“What things?”

“She wanted to know how a boy could not help but grow into a man, what could possibly prevent it. So I tried a comparison employing the gelding of horses—”

“Good God, Elizabeth!”

“It’s close enough,” she defended, still trying not to laugh. “I said that since a stallion has private parts to be gelded, then so does a man, and if he is deprived of them at a certain age . . .”

I was all but choking. “Then what?”

“Well, she
did
want to know . . . .” Now Elizabeth stopped and blushed a violent red.

I leaned forward, looking expectant.

She gave me a mock severe look in return. “You’re being coarse and prurient, Jonathan.”

“Absolutely. What did she want to know?”

She gave up in disgust. “Appearance.”

I did choke on that one and fought in vain to hold onto a sober face.

“And what did you tell her?”

“
Jonathan!
”

Time to retreat, which I did, laughing, but vowing to avoid any solitary interviews with Anne for the time being. She’d been curious about kissing, which I’d been happy to help on, but I wasn’t about to provide answers should she decide to question me on this particular topic. Some days later, Elizabeth informed me that a solution had presented itself during a visit to a friend with an infant boy. When the child’s natural requirements dictated a change of diaper, Elizabeth volunteered to do the task for the mother and took Anne along to help. The experience proved sufficiently educational to satisfy our sweetly innocent cousin, so I was safe once more.

Also after that incident, having learned the value of discretion, Anne made a point to reserve further inquiries about unfamiliar words until the end of play reading.

* * *

And then one day the wedding dress was finished and soon after the day of the appointed event itself was upon us. I was unaware of most of it, being confined to my usually quiet bed in the cellar. The first thing I noticed the instant the sun was gone was one of Mrs. Nooth’s many helpers clattering around in search of supplies for the kitchen. I was glad not to have to breathe, for the place reeked of cooking and baking. As soon as the helper was gone, I vanished and let myself float up through the floors of the house, reappearing in my upstairs room.

Jericho waited there for me and jumped a only little when I suddenly arrived out of thin air.

We shared chagrined smiles, then I asked, “How have things been today?”

“Fairly easy. We have not yet run out of food and the young son of one of the guests provided unexpected entertainment by tumbling from the hayloft and breaking his fall in the muck heap outside the stable.”

“Oh, lord.”

“Precisely what his mother said, plus quite a bit more. Their own servants saw to his cleaning up, I’m glad to say. It could not have been a pleasant job.”

“Is everyone else all right?”

“Oh, yes. Mr. Barrett is making sure the gentlemen have sufficient food with their drink, so there have been no incidents even when politics are discussed. Miss Elizabeth is well enough, considering.”

For the last week Elizabeth had been harried by the last-minute tasks and planning. She had a true talent for organization, though, otherwise she might not have made it this far.

“Everyone has asked for you throughout the day,” he said, letting me know that I should hurry.

My best clothes were carefully laid out on the bed and he had the shaving things ready, the water still gently steaming. Jericho must have walked in seconds before my appearance. The man had impeccable timing. Without another word, we fell into our long-practiced routine. He had me shaved, powdered and dressed fit for a royal audience, or even my sister’s wedding, without hurry, yet in a remarkably short time. I’d discovered that it went much faster when I did not argue with him on his choice of clothes and offered none now.

He had me well trained.

Once downstairs and giving belated greetings to the vast number of guests, I felt as though I were back in London again, attending one of the Bolyn family’s many lavish parties. War notwithstanding, everyone else was also in their best, either made new for the occasion or refurbished to look like new. Molly Audy had had a surfeit of custom for her sewing business and scarcely time for anything else, even if it did pay better. After one of our necessarily briefer liaisons, I asked why she even bothered with the sewing and was informed that she derived “a great deal of satisfaction” from it. This inspired a further query from me, asking if the two businesses—or pleasures as was the case—were remotely comparable in terms of enjoyment, and I promptly got a pillow in my face.

Though discreet herself, her workmanship was in evidence tonight. I recognized many of her completed commissions on the backs (and backsides) of a number of gentlemen, having seen the fabrics and garments in various stages of development in her workroom. They had me wondering which of them availed themselves of both of Molly’s services, and doubtless they were thinking the same thing as they eyed each other. I was made exempt from this, in that my clothes had been made in London.

Norwood, too, I noticed with approval, wore a familiar-looking coat, though the waistcoat was new. A gift from Elizabeth. His innate thriftiness probably encouraged him to use what he had rather than invest in an expansion of his wardrobe. Like me, he might also have a preference for London tailors. I didn’t care so long as it meant he kept clear of Molly.

I greeted my prospective brother-in-law with a light thump on the back and was relieved to see that he wasn’t even remotely drunk, though he seemed rather relaxed for a groom.

“What, have you done this before?” I asked with a gesture at the wedding party.

He laughed. “I don’t know why everyone expects me to be nervous. I’m not, really. Really, I’m not. Really.”

Ah, there
was a bit of strain to him, after all. Most cheering, to be sure.

Elizabeth, when I found her, was in the center of a garden of gowns. So thickly were her friends gathered ’round that their wide-reaching dresses scarcely left walking space in the room. I was bumped and crowded and made over and teased as I eased my way to her, being careful where I put my feet, especially around the seated ladies, who had spread their skirts out to show them off. None, I thought, were more beautiful than Elizabeth’s, and certainly none of the women wearing them were as beautiful, either.

I bowed deeply and kissed her hand and wished her the best of all possible days. My throat was tight and my eyes stung a bit.

“Thank you, little brother.” She smiled at me, looking utterly radiant, and I was ready to burst with pride in her. “It’s been a truly marvelous day, but now . . . ”

“Night is here with my arrival, or is it the other way around?”

“You ass!” But she softened her humor. “You wonderful ass.”

“Coming soon, is it?”

She gulped. “Yes, soon.”

“I’m glad you arranged things so I could be here to see.

“That’s all Father’s doing.”

“How is he?”

“Being fatherly. When I came downstairs he had to use his handkerchief. Tried to pretend he had dust in his eyes, but I knew better.”

“I know how he feels. All I can say is be happy, Elizabeth.”

“I will. I know I will.”

And within the hour she married Lord James Norwood amid tears and laughter and glorious celebration. Thus did we observe and acknowledge the change that came to all our lives.

CHAPTER TWELVE

JUNE 1777

Though larger campaigns of destruction were being undertaken by the armies in the greater world outside, we were naturally most concerned for our own area, having endured a number of raids, both bold and vicious. Some of the thieves were caught, and those without commission papers were swiftly hanged. Hardworking farmers made desperate by the loss of their crops to the British and the rebels had turned to thieving themselves as a means of survival and revenge. Some of them joined with the local militia, others preferred to work on their own. One such group included Mr. Curtis, Mr. Davis and even thirsty Noddy Milverton on occasion. Whenever they were absent from The Oak, it was generally accepted they’d “gone fishing” along the Connecticut coast. No one objected, least of all Lieutenant Nash.

Some of the Hessian troops had been transferred out, both to the relief and annoyance of the locals. They were hated company, but their presence had been a curtailment to the raids. Our barn was empty once more, as was Mrs. Montagu’s. Father worried for her and visited as often as he could. He’d gifted her with several pistols and a good hunting rifle and had gone to no little trouble to teach her and her servants how to shoot well. The lady had also taken to increasing the numbers of geese around her home, being of the same opinion as the old Romans that they were better than dogs for giving the alarm against intruders.

But though the times were hard, we knew they were much worse elsewhere, so we thanked God for our lot and prayed for a swift victory over our enemies and the restoration of peace.

The sun set later each night and arrived sooner each day, but I’d long gotten over the feeling of being deprived of my waking hours. When I lay my head upon my pallet-covered earth, the dawn brought such complete oblivion that I had no knowledge of the day’s passage, yet I woke well rested with a sharpness of mind and spirit that had often been lacking before my change. There had once been many a sluggish morning for me, particularly after nights spent making merry with my Cambridge friends, but no more.

Despite the shortening darkness I seemed to find plenty of time to do all that I wanted; I had no complaint unless it was loneliness for my sister’s company. Sorely did I miss our post-sunset meetings in the library when she would tell me about the day. Jericho assumed that role somewhat, as did Father when he was available, but neither could quite take her place. There was a void in my life now and it required an effort to adjust to things.

As promised, and to ease the emptiness of that void, I did become a frequent visitor to Elizabeth’s new house. She’d made it into a pretty place despite Norwood’s objections to the expense.

“I think it’s because of his plans to go back to England,” she confided on my latest sojourn over one evening. “He thinks it’s a waste of money to improve a house we won’t be staying in for long.”

“What’s he mean by that? Are you to leave so soon?” The idea had been there for some time, but only in the abstract. Now Elizabeth spoke as though they were already starting to pack for the journey.

“Oh, not for a while, perhaps. Maybe a year or so.”

“That’s something, then,” I said grudgingly. Though my perception of time had been skewed by my change, a year still seemed a great interval. “I mean, if you really
want
to leave . . . .”

“Actually, I don’t, but I should go and meet his family. I’m rather curious about how a duke lives.”

“Doesn’t he tell you?”

“Not always. I hear more about his dead ancestors than the living relatives. Do you know his people were at Agincourt? It seems that I’ve married into a famous family.”

I looked on as she sewed away at some humble task, her head bowed over her work. She’d changed in the last month, grown up quite a bit, and would continue to grow as more and more of her interests came to center upon her new life. I’d seen similar changes in her friends who had married and formed their own circles with other matrons and their families. While I could not begrudge Elizabeth one moment of her new happiness it seemed that my place in her life would also go the same way as most of their relatives. Soon I would be the unmarried brother coming around for Sunday tea when there was naught else going on. When the time came doubtless I would become a doting uncle and still be made welcome to the hearth, but it would never be as it was. Elizabeth had Norwood to confide to and rely on and be best friends with, which was as it should be, but, oh, how I missed her.

“Are you happy about so illustrious a lineage?” I asked.

“It’s not real to me yet. All I know is James. He’s what’s real.”

“Are you happy with him?”

“Yes, certainly I am. How can you ask such a thing?”

“Just being the protective brother, is all.”

“That can’t be all. Don’t you like him?”

“Well, yes, but you can’t expect me to be in favor of his taking you away to England someday. Father and I would miss you terribly.”

“And I would miss you both terribly, but I have to go with my husband. That’s the way things are.”

“Then it’s not right. You should have a say in where you want to live.

“I know, but I’m sure things will work out for the best no matter where we are.”

That was the core of it. She was in love and would follow her husband. I was only her brother, and it wasn’t my place to object.

Lady Caroline had come over earlier that day and had stayed longer than expected. My arrival soon after dusk was greeted with surprise by them all, and we had a pleasant visit. She had been going to spend the night rather than risk traveling after dark, but as I made to leave she asked if I would escort her home after all.

“But the road may be dangerous for a woman,” Norwood protested.

“It will be perfectly safe,” I replied. I had confidence in my ability to see and hear a potential hazard long before it saw me. “There’s a bright moon up, which means things will be tranquil.”

“Indeed,” said Lady Caroline. “Mr. Barrett shall want my company along to keep him awake on the ride back.”

“If you’re certain . . . .” Norwood yet seemed dubious. “We’ve plenty of room for you.”

“I know, but dear Anne is expecting me back. She has her heart set on me helping her read the scene between Portia and Nerissa discussing the suitors in
The Merchant of Venice.
I think she has a mind to memorize it and act it out at the next tea party.”

“She does,” I added. Cousin Anne was quite taken with that play, and had consulted me already on the matter of costume. Apparently she had a mind to borrow one of Father’s wigs for the courtroom scene as a means to make her recitation more authentic. I saw no harm in it, but was apprehensive that in her pursuit she might want to don the rest of the male costume as well. That seemed rather adventurous, though it might be worth it to see the disconcertion it would cause Mother.

Caroline smiled, exchanging a brief sly look with Elizabeth. “If so, then you shall be wanted there as well. I recall she asked you to play the Prince of Morocco.”

“And the Prince of Arragon—and Bassanio, too, if there’s time.”

“Indeed,” said Elizabeth. “Anne seems to have found a way of putting you into romantical situations with herself. Is there something you’d like to tell us, Jonathan?”

I refused to take the bait and held to a sober face. “Only that she’s turned into quite the scholar. I’m happy to assist her studies.”

“ ’Tis a pleasing task for you to play the tutor,” Caroline put in. “But taxing. If she continues like this, Mr. Garrick will have to come out of retirement, for I shan’t be able to keep up with her.”

“Who?”

“David Garrick,” I clarified.

“You remember,” Norwood said. “The actor? Back in London?”

Caroline rolled her eyes prettily. “Oh, goodness, of course. For some reason I thought you meant one of the
farmers
hereabouts. I could not imagine who.”

“You’ll not catch many of them with time for reading Shakespeare.”

She gave a small laugh. “Or aught else, I’m sure. Well, Mr. Barrett, we’d best be along or it will be much too late for any reading.”

“Yes, and I want to stop in Glenbriar to check the post.”

“For that letter from England?” Caroline, like the others, knew of my correspondence with Cousin Oliver, and how keenly I anticipated his next missive. It was due any week now. “I hope it comes soon, or you shall wear out your welcome at the inn.”

“I’ll see to the horses, then.” I bowed and went out, heading toward the miserable-looking structure that served as a stable. Elizabeth had mentioned her desire to repair and improve it before the winter, lightly complaining when Norwood asked to put it off a while longer. I wondered if his tightfisted nature would become be a source of discontent for her. Often mild failings grow into great faults, given time. I should hate for that to happen.

They had no stablemen, not even a lad to see to their own beasts. Norwood claimed that he enjoyed looking after them himself, which was understandable to me, but I thought it odd for a man in his position not to have at least one servant for the less pleasant tasks like mucking out the stalls. There wasn’t that much work, though, with but two horses. He had a hunter and Elizabeth had brought along her favorite from home, Satin. So far they’d yet to acquire a carriage, not that there were many to be had these days. When Sunday came along, Father sent a man along in ours to pick them up for church.

I’d taken up riding again to give Rolly some much needed exercise and make a change for me on my trips to The Oak. This also helped me avoid being seen floating about. I’d been spotted twice, but fortunately both times the men had been drunk and no one believed their story about a “flying ghost.” Afterward I became more careful.

Taking Rolly’s reins and those of Lady Caroline’s horse, I walked back to the house in no particular hurry. Elizabeth had already bade me good night and gone upstairs, leaving Norwood and his sister just outside the front entry. They spoke in low tones and looked to be having some kind of a disagreement. Before I’d quite gotten close enough to hear anything, they broke off and acted as though nothing were amiss.

Well, if they wished it to be so, then I would behave in kind. Brothers and sisters were entitled to their secrets, after all. Elizabeth and I had a surfeit of those.

I assisted Lady Caroline up to her sidesaddle, swung onto Rolly and called farewell to Norwood. He stood in the doorway and watched until we were out of sight down the lane.

“Is there anything amiss?” I asked.

“Not really. He’s just worried about my being out, but I told him that we’d be fine.”

It had appeared more earnest than simple brotherly concern, but if so, then she was determined to keep it to herself.

“You are armed, I hope?” she asked.

“I’d feel unclothed without these.” I touched the case hanging from my saddle that held a set of duelers I’d bought on a whim in London. Since my abduction, I took them everywhere, loaded and ready at hand. “And you?”

“Of course.” Instead of the small, easily concealed pistol favored by some ladies, she produced a formidable brass-barreled specimen made by Powell of Dublin that was capable of firing six shots, one after another. It was an amazing piece of work, and I had hopes of someday acquiring one myself. Its appeal lay in the fact that after an initial priming, all one had to do was to pull back the trigger guard after each shot, turn the cylinder a little, push the guard forward to lock it, then fire again. Six in a row without reloading—an absolutely marvelous invention. It had been quite a treat when she’d let me test it out once. I’d never known such fast shooting.

Our safety assured by our arms collection, we kicked the horses up with confidence and cantered toward Glenbriar. It wasn’t far, and I found the ride shortened by her agreeable company. The moon was high, making things bright for her, and she commented on its silvery brilliance with some wonder. For me it blazed like the noon sun and I was glad of the shade my hat provided.

Almost before I knew it, we were reining up before The Oak. There was a room on the side reserved for females if Lady Caroline desired to come in, and I asked her as much, but she professed that she was content to wait without. As this night I was only interested in the post and not buying a round of drinks, I would be but a moment and promised a swift return.

A somewhat larger crowd than usual hailed my entry. It being a calm clear night, it was easy to conclude that Nassau County’s own irregulars were unable to prowl the opposite shores of the Sound for booty. I didn’t approve or disapprove of their work, but did hope that they harmed no one and avoid capture. If made prisoners, their treatment would doubtless be short and brutal. The hangings here on the Island had made many of the Connecticut “militia” bitter.

“Anything at all, Mr. Farr?” I asked, after giving him greeting.

With a flourish as though he’d brought it across the Atlantic himself, he placed a battered packet before me, smiling broadly. I let out a crow and fell upon it like a starving man discovering a loaf of bread. This gave much amusement to the other patrons, for I made something of an ass of myself, but I didn’t care. I cut the thing open then and there with my penknife and unfolded the sheets within of the first letter.