And here we have Chapter 19!
Elena spent a lovely evening reading on the fancy sofa in the greatroom. It took her a while to get comfortable on it, but soon her distraction won her over and she kicked her shoes off and threw the decorative pillows to the floor and spread out. Edward watched this transition and chuckled to himself once or twice as he walked by her, her posture so childlike as she lay on her stomach or her back, so at odds with the pretty dress and the care she had gone to looking nice for dinner.
It was an odd juxtaposition, this girl-woman who had been brought into their lives was comfortable as neither woman or girl. She had to deal with both the transition to adulthood and the transition of leaving home for a life with a man - a very different life in a very different social status.
But perhaps that wasn’t really and unordinary series of events. Maybe it was more often that there was a catalyst for change that makes us grow up. In his own life, the doctor reflected, it had been the loss of his father that forced him to take responsibility for the world around him and for the grieving mother that was also left behind.
He had these thoughts and walked on, down the stairs to where he did his research.
Elena realized he watched her, but she didn’t mind. She was used to this type of attention with Howard at the orphanage. The Monsignor always wanted to know what was going on with his flock, and would often wander the halls and stand observing them. Elena was trying to concentrate on her book and though for a while she did, she would find herself daydreaming about Byron.
The night before had been wonderful. She had really felt like she was loved and cared for. There were too many things in her head that she felt like she needed to think about and needed to understand. Her feelings about Byron himself were clear. She loved him and she wanted him - the idea that they were bound together was less and less disturbing really, but what was left was her concern that they would get on well in the other areas of their lives. Living together was not just the sex, not just the good feelings, but little things like what they would do with themselves on an every day basis.
He had spoken about living here in the city for a while. That was fine but what would she do with herself all day long? She was no longer teaching and she would become quickly board with just staying home and reading. What did Byron do on an ordinary day? Was he just a man of leisure or did he indeed have business meetings to attend to, people he needed to see? She didn’t even know where he got the money he used for all of the things he did. She supposed that it was inherited money that he invested, but what kind of investments?
There was so much she didn’t know about him and she found herself desperate suddenly to learn about him. That maybe she could waste a year just figuring him out.
She smiled to herself.
“Miss Elena. It’s time for bed.”
Mary, the little maid that had come with all her belongings from the estate, stood at the balcony above the greatroom, a look of consternation on her narrow, rose-cheeked face.
“It’s only ten-thirty!” Elena answered her, “I’m not even tired.”
She tried to go back to her reading, but the girl stood her ground.
“You can read in bed, Miss,” she finally offered, but there was a poignant disapproval in her tone that implied she didn’t think well of that idea either, “The doctor says that you were but recently ill and we should take care with your we-being. So you should get plenty of sleep. I have your bedclothes all laid out.”
Elena stared up at the girl, about to complain about being treated like a child, when she finally realized that she didn’t care. It was true, she had been up early, and it would do her no harm to rest.
She stood and gathered her things, followed the girl up to her room and put them away. Mary tried to do every last thing for her that she could and they argued over it.
“I can undress myself Mary!”
“Its my job, Miss Elena!”
Until finally she had given in and sat at the little desk that seemed to serve primarily now as a dressing table. She let Mary fool with undoing the braids she had worn her hair back in for dinner, so that her curls softly again framed her face. The maid undid the zipper of the dress and pulled it up over her so that she sat in her slip and waited for the other girl to return with the rose nightgown.
Elena looked at herself in the antique mirror and fell into a sad reverie again. Edward had made her feel better about life in general, and reading made her forget her foul mood after leaving the orphanage completely, but now the loneliness was settling in, even with Mary hovering over her.
She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair.
“Beloved.” She whispered in her mind, “Beloved Byron where are you?”
She called out to him silently and there was no answer. She had never asked him how far this connection of theirs could reach and now he wasn’t here to tell her. Was this the beginning of withdrawal or was this just the longing that every woman divided from her lover has felt? The aching grew worse and she remembered what it was like during those weeks at school to miss him and to know that he was out there and she couldn’t touch him.
At least she didn’t believe he hated her this time. But there was little comfort in that.
Too soon Mary had completed making her ready for bed, and she was so deep into her internal struggle to even notice that she’d been taken care of like a member of the bourgeoisie. There was nothing within her to struggle at it, and the preparations had somehow seemed to please Mary.
She walked over to the bed and sat, her expression long.
Mary sat down beside her and put her arm around the other girl.
“You’re in love with him aren’t you?” She asked softly, sensing her mistresses lonliness.
“I am.” Elena answered simply.
“Does he love you as well, Miss?”
“He says he does, Mary.”
The girl thought about it and Elena could almost hear the thoughts spinning in the girl’s mind. Finally she came to a decision of some kind and her expression, which was almost always so cheerful, was so serious that it worried Elena.
“You know, Miss, there is talk among the servants about Mr. Murphy. That he isn’t quite an ordinary man.”
Elena absorbed this, coming out of her reverie, aware that she would have to tread carefully here. It would not do to expose Byron to any harm by miss-speaking and at the same time she needed to know whatever the servant talk was about him. If they were in any way turning dangerous to him they, better than any other force, could be dangerous to him. They had access to him while he slept, sometimes in the daytime while he was weak. Not only that, but Margaret was their supervisor and she knew everything. What if she sought to turn them against him?
“What do the servants say?” She asked carefully, trying to give nothing of her thoughts away.
The dark haired girl chewed on her lip for a moment.
“I won’t tell Byron anything to get you fired, Mary. I know you need this job, but you wouldn’t have mentioned it if you didn’t think I needed to know.”
She thought some more and then got up to pace the area in front of the bed.
“Its not that it’s anything too horrible, Miss. I mean that everyone thinks well of Mister Murphy. He pays well and he’s a kind employer, but its said that he doesn’t act like a normal person, Miss…”
“Call me Elena, Mary. What does he do that isn’t normal?”
“He drinks blood.” She finally answered, nervously looking around the room. “He doesn’t eat hardly ever, and its hard not to notice when you are a servant. He’s off to the stables where the boys say he drinks from the horses. He doesn’t hurt them, not really, but its all part of him not being a normal man miss. They call him a vampire miss, but he doesn’t do any of the evil things to people like they show in that movie.”
Ah, Elena thought, she’d have to go see it. She had been too poor to see the Bela Lugosi film that came out a few years before, so she couldn’t say what the evil things Byron didn’t do were. The girl continued.
“Except that Margaret, she says that he likes the girls too young. But he’s never shown anything towards any one younger than you miss, and I consider you and I old enough to make our own decisions, if you understand my meaning.”
“I do.” Elena answered simply. “Is there anything else?” She asked her gently.
“Well, I thought you should know, Margaret hates you.”
“I can bear her hatred with great fortitude.” Elena answered calmly though her fingers had instinctually come into fists in her lap.
“No, I’m serious, I think she might try something.” Said the worried girl.
Elena hugged Mary to her as if she were one of her little home sisters at Howard’s. The girl hugged her back.
“Do you know what she’s planning?” Elena asked finally pulling back a little to look into the other girl’s dark eyes.
“No, Miss. I mean, Elena.”
Elena wondered if these plans were just imaginings, or if they referred to Margaret’s plan to keep her and Byron apart. Perhaps even something greater? She shook her head.
“I’ll tell Byron to be careful of her. I think she’s going to be asked to leave anyway because she deceived him. I’ll be careful of her too, and I know you are looking out for me and that’s really wonderful. I’d very much like us to be friends.”
Mary smiled suddenly, her bright cheerfulness reasserting itself like a flash of lightening.
“I’d love that too, Miss Elena.”
They embraced each other quickly, laughing off the seriousness that plagued them.
“Now get into bed.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You must.”
Elena gave a long-suffering sigh and got into bed.
“So tell me one more thing?” Mary asked, shyly standing by the door.
“What is it, Mary?” Elena responded wearily.
“Does he bite?”
It was an odd juxtaposition, this girl-woman who had been brought into their lives was comfortable as neither woman or girl. She had to deal with both the transition to adulthood and the transition of leaving home for a life with a man - a very different life in a very different social status.
But perhaps that wasn’t really and unordinary series of events. Maybe it was more often that there was a catalyst for change that makes us grow up. In his own life, the doctor reflected, it had been the loss of his father that forced him to take responsibility for the world around him and for the grieving mother that was also left behind.
He had these thoughts and walked on, down the stairs to where he did his research.
Elena realized he watched her, but she didn’t mind. She was used to this type of attention with Howard at the orphanage. The Monsignor always wanted to know what was going on with his flock, and would often wander the halls and stand observing them. Elena was trying to concentrate on her book and though for a while she did, she would find herself daydreaming about Byron.
The night before had been wonderful. She had really felt like she was loved and cared for. There were too many things in her head that she felt like she needed to think about and needed to understand. Her feelings about Byron himself were clear. She loved him and she wanted him - the idea that they were bound together was less and less disturbing really, but what was left was her concern that they would get on well in the other areas of their lives. Living together was not just the sex, not just the good feelings, but little things like what they would do with themselves on an every day basis.
He had spoken about living here in the city for a while. That was fine but what would she do with herself all day long? She was no longer teaching and she would become quickly board with just staying home and reading. What did Byron do on an ordinary day? Was he just a man of leisure or did he indeed have business meetings to attend to, people he needed to see? She didn’t even know where he got the money he used for all of the things he did. She supposed that it was inherited money that he invested, but what kind of investments?
There was so much she didn’t know about him and she found herself desperate suddenly to learn about him. That maybe she could waste a year just figuring him out.
She smiled to herself.
“Miss Elena. It’s time for bed.”
Mary, the little maid that had come with all her belongings from the estate, stood at the balcony above the greatroom, a look of consternation on her narrow, rose-cheeked face.
“It’s only ten-thirty!” Elena answered her, “I’m not even tired.”
She tried to go back to her reading, but the girl stood her ground.
“You can read in bed, Miss,” she finally offered, but there was a poignant disapproval in her tone that implied she didn’t think well of that idea either, “The doctor says that you were but recently ill and we should take care with your we-being. So you should get plenty of sleep. I have your bedclothes all laid out.”
Elena stared up at the girl, about to complain about being treated like a child, when she finally realized that she didn’t care. It was true, she had been up early, and it would do her no harm to rest.
She stood and gathered her things, followed the girl up to her room and put them away. Mary tried to do every last thing for her that she could and they argued over it.
“I can undress myself Mary!”
“Its my job, Miss Elena!”
Until finally she had given in and sat at the little desk that seemed to serve primarily now as a dressing table. She let Mary fool with undoing the braids she had worn her hair back in for dinner, so that her curls softly again framed her face. The maid undid the zipper of the dress and pulled it up over her so that she sat in her slip and waited for the other girl to return with the rose nightgown.
Elena looked at herself in the antique mirror and fell into a sad reverie again. Edward had made her feel better about life in general, and reading made her forget her foul mood after leaving the orphanage completely, but now the loneliness was settling in, even with Mary hovering over her.
She closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair.
“Beloved.” She whispered in her mind, “Beloved Byron where are you?”
She called out to him silently and there was no answer. She had never asked him how far this connection of theirs could reach and now he wasn’t here to tell her. Was this the beginning of withdrawal or was this just the longing that every woman divided from her lover has felt? The aching grew worse and she remembered what it was like during those weeks at school to miss him and to know that he was out there and she couldn’t touch him.
At least she didn’t believe he hated her this time. But there was little comfort in that.
Too soon Mary had completed making her ready for bed, and she was so deep into her internal struggle to even notice that she’d been taken care of like a member of the bourgeoisie. There was nothing within her to struggle at it, and the preparations had somehow seemed to please Mary.
She walked over to the bed and sat, her expression long.
Mary sat down beside her and put her arm around the other girl.
“You’re in love with him aren’t you?” She asked softly, sensing her mistresses lonliness.
“I am.” Elena answered simply.
“Does he love you as well, Miss?”
“He says he does, Mary.”
The girl thought about it and Elena could almost hear the thoughts spinning in the girl’s mind. Finally she came to a decision of some kind and her expression, which was almost always so cheerful, was so serious that it worried Elena.
“You know, Miss, there is talk among the servants about Mr. Murphy. That he isn’t quite an ordinary man.”
Elena absorbed this, coming out of her reverie, aware that she would have to tread carefully here. It would not do to expose Byron to any harm by miss-speaking and at the same time she needed to know whatever the servant talk was about him. If they were in any way turning dangerous to him they, better than any other force, could be dangerous to him. They had access to him while he slept, sometimes in the daytime while he was weak. Not only that, but Margaret was their supervisor and she knew everything. What if she sought to turn them against him?
“What do the servants say?” She asked carefully, trying to give nothing of her thoughts away.
The dark haired girl chewed on her lip for a moment.
“I won’t tell Byron anything to get you fired, Mary. I know you need this job, but you wouldn’t have mentioned it if you didn’t think I needed to know.”
She thought some more and then got up to pace the area in front of the bed.
“Its not that it’s anything too horrible, Miss. I mean that everyone thinks well of Mister Murphy. He pays well and he’s a kind employer, but its said that he doesn’t act like a normal person, Miss…”
“Call me Elena, Mary. What does he do that isn’t normal?”
“He drinks blood.” She finally answered, nervously looking around the room. “He doesn’t eat hardly ever, and its hard not to notice when you are a servant. He’s off to the stables where the boys say he drinks from the horses. He doesn’t hurt them, not really, but its all part of him not being a normal man miss. They call him a vampire miss, but he doesn’t do any of the evil things to people like they show in that movie.”
Ah, Elena thought, she’d have to go see it. She had been too poor to see the Bela Lugosi film that came out a few years before, so she couldn’t say what the evil things Byron didn’t do were. The girl continued.
“Except that Margaret, she says that he likes the girls too young. But he’s never shown anything towards any one younger than you miss, and I consider you and I old enough to make our own decisions, if you understand my meaning.”
“I do.” Elena answered simply. “Is there anything else?” She asked her gently.
“Well, I thought you should know, Margaret hates you.”
“I can bear her hatred with great fortitude.” Elena answered calmly though her fingers had instinctually come into fists in her lap.
“No, I’m serious, I think she might try something.” Said the worried girl.
Elena hugged Mary to her as if she were one of her little home sisters at Howard’s. The girl hugged her back.
“Do you know what she’s planning?” Elena asked finally pulling back a little to look into the other girl’s dark eyes.
“No, Miss. I mean, Elena.”
Elena wondered if these plans were just imaginings, or if they referred to Margaret’s plan to keep her and Byron apart. Perhaps even something greater? She shook her head.
“I’ll tell Byron to be careful of her. I think she’s going to be asked to leave anyway because she deceived him. I’ll be careful of her too, and I know you are looking out for me and that’s really wonderful. I’d very much like us to be friends.”
Mary smiled suddenly, her bright cheerfulness reasserting itself like a flash of lightening.
“I’d love that too, Miss Elena.”
They embraced each other quickly, laughing off the seriousness that plagued them.
“Now get into bed.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You must.”
Elena gave a long-suffering sigh and got into bed.
“So tell me one more thing?” Mary asked, shyly standing by the door.
“What is it, Mary?” Elena responded wearily.
“Does he bite?”