Darkfever [Goody + incendo]

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

Another boring weekend spent in London. Riegler was glad to be headed home again, if only for the soothing comfort of being alone, surrounded by his books and garden of stones. No demanding, dull parties, surrounded by upper crust socialites, playing their meaningless little games with each other. No lies and theatrics to hide who he truly was from societal and moral judgements.

Although, if Emery was truly honest, it hadn't been all bad. He'd had opportunity to visit an embalming session at the funeral home, watching with fascination as the body was put through the different steps in the process, prepared for burial. And he'd gotten some new pulp magazines with one of his favorite authors, H.P.Lovecraft's stories in them. So far, no one seemed to notice the eerie storyteller's work but Emery had no doubt, someday soon, everyone would know about Arkham and the horrible, dreadful things that occurred there. Plus, the few hunts he'd had there had been exceptional; for all the threats surrounding them, rich people in the city were so gullible, and his thrall worked particularly well to clear their memories of his...feedings.

So, the feeling he had as he boarded the train was one of a mixture of relief to finally be headed home but not overwhelmingly unpleasant to regard his time in the city. It would be nice to return to Bromsgrove and his isolated estate.

The sound of the train whistled signalled they'd be leaving the station soon as Emery made his way through the corridor, night, like an oppressive force, pressing in through the windows that lined the one side of the hall. Being a creature of the evening, he had avoided the particular fatal sensitivity to daylight, yet he still held some revulsion towards it. He had to often wear shaded spectacles in the sun, lest he be rendered completely helpless and blind, and he grew physically ill after prolonged periods in direct sunlight. And to top it all off, he was plagued by a constant headache that only grew worse the longer he remained awake during the hours between dawn and sunset. Even if he hadn't slept, as soon as the sun went down, it was like a balm to his splitting skull. So, a night train ride, to avoid being awake during the day as much as he could help it.

Erroneously, he'd assumed that an evening train would be the less popular choice, allowing some privacy on the ride home. But as he walked the length of the train, thin carryon bag in hand, Emery peered into the seating compartments he passed, growing despondent as each appeared to be full. Finally, he reached a compartment that seemed more open the others, a young woman sitting on her own on one of the inward facing benches. It was a little untoward for a man and a woman, unmarried, to share a train car together, but at the moment, he was out of options. Glancing down the hall one last time, he considered venturing further, before finally turning and leaning in the doorway to speak to the young woman.

"Pardon me," he said in a voice deep and weathered, flashing an apologetic smirk at her. Motioning at the bench seat across from her with the edge of his leather attache, he cocked his head in humble supplication to her. "Would you mind terribly much if I shared this car with you? All the others appear full up."

Then he graced her with a charming grin, neatly trimmed, dark hair encircling his lips, his teeth straight edged and clean. He looked to be a normal man in his early 40's but in actuality, he was almost a century old, his murky green eyes speaking of the lifetime he'd already lived, even as his expression desired to set her at ease with a meek, charming affect. Standing at 6'2", his dark brown hair was kept short both on the top and the sides, presenting a very genteel and neat appearance. And his suit was very fine, 3 pieces, layered, charcoal black and an expensive, fashionable cut, his slate blue shirt just visible underneath his vest, and bringing a bit of color to the outfit.

 

[incendonocturne]

-not quite the youngest of the Mayweather daughters, Prudence was the shortest, at 5’1”. That, however, was not all that set her apart from her sisters. They were blonde. She was not, granted, that was by choice. As was nearly everything she did of course.

Her family had shipped her off to a convent of all places, for her little oddities. Thinking perhaps the devil had possessed their beautiful girl at an early age. That and they could simply no longer handle her dark and morbid sense of being.

They had ignored it for as long as they could, hoping she would simply grow out of it. By the age of twenty, they realized their hopes were far fetched. After several failed attempts to marry her off, to ‘straighten’ her out, they’d decided that the convent was their last hope.

How wrong were they? Oh, she played along. Letting them put her on the train. Putting a considerable distance between themselves and her. Letting someone else deal with the dark and odd woman she had become.

The poor nuns had their hands full, to say the least. She relented no more at the convent than she had at home. Finding the flustering nuns as amusing as she did her sisters and her mother. Always just putting a toe out of line enough to fluster them but not to be punished to an extreme extent.

When they’d had enough, simply unable to help the poor dear, she was put before the Mother Superior and together the pair had a wonderful discussion. She was well behaved, if not a little odd even toward the older woman. She was respectful but explained she rather enjoyed the way she was and enjoyed the things she did and had no desire to change, not even for her family. She simply found the beauty in not only bright and living things but the dark and dead sort of things as well. Much to the chagrin of her family, at the behest of the Mother Superior, she was put on a train and being sent back home.

It was a long ride but she minded no more than she had the first time. Just as before, she’d spent it alone in the compartment. Beside her sat a small stack of books. Some hand made to hold the short stories and tales of some of her favorites.

Currently in her lap sat a hard cover book covered in yellow cloth with “Dracula by Bram Stoker” stamped in red. A well read and well loved and cherished first edition. The lone woman’s head was bowed, features obscured by the wide onyx brim of her hat. Enraptured in the words that spilled across the pages, despite having read it countless times before.

When the voice broke through her literary haze, she blinked. Losing the images in her head to the reality around her. A well manicured but dark fingernail pressed lovingly against the page, in the spot she’d stopped reading. Her head tipped up, wide, dark and smoky eyes peering from beneath the brim pinning the man in their gaze. The pretty bow of her crimson lips spread into a soft, forgiving smile as her gaze darted momentarily toward the seat he pointed at and then back.

The pale porcelain of her skin was a stark but beautiful contrast to the obsidian dress she wore. Her knees shifted beneath the layers of dark material as she uncrossed her legs, dropping a booted heel to the compartment floor as she straightened. Closing the book, a hand swept toward the seat as she set the book aside.-

“Please.”

-she said boldly and nodded, the plain chiffon curls of her hat bouncing softly. She gave no thought to the inappropriateness of such actions. The seat was empty and she knew well enough what he’d said was true, the rest of the train was rather full.-

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

Hazel eyes blinked, taking in the dark, stately beauty who currently occupied the compartment. To be honest, upon his first introduction, he hadn't taken much notice, seeing little more than the hat and the dress. But as dark brown, enchanting eyes lifted to take his measure, porcelain skin, smooth and white as a death shroud, revealed upon her cheeks and neck, Emery paused. Not something he expected to find on the train ride home this night, she looked like the contemplative version of Lucy Westenra, a dark and predatory maiden. Only when she further offered him the seat did he regain some of his composure, returning her nod and smile as he moved with smooth grace to settle onto the bench seat across from her.

"Thank you," he murmured in a polite, sultry baritone. "To be honest, I'm a little surprised the train is so busy this time of night. Was there an event I was not notified about? Cripes. I usually have a cabin all to myself but..." He inclined his head in mild gratitude to her. "I am not aggrieved for the company."

As he set his attache and coat aside, idly undoing the mid-button on his suit jacket to get more comfortable, revealing the gray vest underneath, he swept a cursory look over her again and froze, his eyes narrowing at the title of the book resting on her lap. Dracula, by Bram Stoker. What a coincidence. Had he not just compared her to Lucy? A small pensive thrill ran through him as well to find such a tome in her possession, considering his own hidden identity and secrets. It didn't necessarily mean anything, after all, it wasn't like Count Dracula was the hero of that story but it was an odd choice of entertainment for someone of her station and gender to make. It at least hinted to a curiosity and possible affinity for the subject matter. Emery had expected a quiet trip home spent immersed in his own thoughts and reading his own pulp stories but it appeared Fate had presented to him a particularly alluring divertissement.

"Definitely not the kind of book I'd expect to see in the hands of a young woman," he commented with a breezy measure of approval in his voice and expression. "Not a Jane Austen fan, I take it? Do you enjoy horror or are you in it for the tragedy?"

 

[incendonocturne]

-she watched him quietly from the shadowy depths beneath her hat. Wide and curious eyes tracing over his frame and face. Noting the finely tailor suit. The higher end attaché case. As well, she watched his movements. The solid grace he executed as he strolled forward into the car, the precise but easy flick of his finger and thumb as he unbuttoned his jacket.

Her gaze returned to his features, tracing quietly over his hair and eyes, the sweep of facial hair. It was almost as if she were reading him, as enraptured as she had been in the words of her book. She was in fact, quite fascinated.

Her parents had done everything they could think of to draw her away from the dark and dreary and that included bringing around young men as towheaded as she and her sisters, clean shaven....boring. It wasn’t often she was presented with the dark and mysterious man.

She noted the narrowing of his eyes and her own dropped to the object of his curiosity beside her, briefly before turning her attention back upon him. Her hands lifted from their settlement in her lap, wiggling petite and slender fingers playfully.-

“Not in my hands anymore.”

-a flash of mischief glinted in her dark orbs as her crimson lips crept up at the corners and yet there was still just a hint of demure innocence in her.

She held his gaze a moment longer before she reached up, carefully pulling the long hat pin out and gently pulled the hat from her head. Letting the dark chocolate curls the pin had been holding and hiding, tumble free to cascade freely toward her shoulders, framing her porcelain features. Just a hint of the blond was creeping in at the roots of her hairline, barely notable but there. She’d not had the chance to fix herself quite as she’d liked before leaving the convent, something she intended to take care of when she was back home.

She held the hat against her thighs, sliding the pin back into its place. A finger tracing over the onyx jeweled belly of the ornate bat topper.-

“No. While Miss Austen is quite good and well versed, she is not my author of choice. I enjoy the likes of Mary Shelley, Edgar Allen Poe and Lovecraft.”

-she spoke as she stared at the wonderous little bauble beneath her fingers before setting aside her hat as well with a nonchalant shrug. Her warm gazefluttering softly back toward the intriguing man across from her. Her chin lifting boldly as she continued.-

“I simply find the horror and tragedy, by far more romantic and beautiful in comparison.”

-she quipped in her soft tone, a smile curling her painted lips.-

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

Eyes of dark amber took in the elegant dark waves of her glossy, long hair as they tumbled free from her hat, unabashedly allowing himself to appreciate and enjoy the mystique of her beauty. He noted the blonde in her roots but said nothing of it, knowing she likely wouldn't appreciate it. But it fascinated him that black was not her original color, yet she'd chosen it deliberately. Not only that, but she let her curls hang free rather than ironing and pressing them up above the shoulders as was fashionable. The effect was one of an untamed beauty, commanding and graceful, wild with sophistication.

Her response too had him smiling softly as well, his first impression of a kindred spirit proven correct. "Indeed, it is, isn't it?" Emery agreed, relaxing and folding his leg in a triangle with ankle resting on his knee. "I'm certain there is value in the desperation and transformation of Mr. Darcy, his heart swayed against his better judgements and arrogant, refined character smitten by the wild freedom of the girl in a lower class than himself. But I agree...there is something much more romantic and possessing about the danger of darkness and madness. The monster falling for a maiden, loving her in all her innocence, threatening to change her by that love, thus destroying the very essence of her being. In a way, it feels more honest to the complexities of relationships, our fears, our sorrows, than the pretty things Austen likes to say."

He paused. He hadn't meant to go on like that, but he was momentarily lost to the discussion. The truth was, Emery read everything he could get his hands on. He simply didn't study authors like Jane Austen or Frances Hogdson Burnett. "I feel myself drawn to the more grotesque and arcane things as well. Frankenstein is definitely a must-read, very tragic and a great treaty on madness and identity. Horror is considered cheap, so, I like to grab pulp magazines whenever I visit the city. I've found many a hidden gem within."

As he spoke, he opened his attache case, pulling out his latest copy of Weird Tales, gaudy cover depicting a ghastly pair of hands, sadistically shoving pins into a voodoo doll. Sniffing stoutly, adjusting his suit coat, Emery flipped a couple pages into the flat magazine, folding the cover over the back neatly. Clearing his throat, he checked the woman's face before he began to read from the pages, his voice deep and charming, throwing himself full force into the somber and eerie tone,

"I had drifted o’er seas without ending,
Under sinister grey-clouded skies
That the many-fork’d lightning is rending,
That resound with hysterical cries;
With the moans of invisible daemons that out of the green waters rise.

I have plung’d like a deer thro’ the arches
Of the hoary primordial grove,
Where the oaks feel the presence that marches
And stalks on where no spirit dares rove;
And I flee from a thing that surrounds me, and leers thro’ dead branches above."

He paused to check her reaction, smirking lightly over his own reaction to the spellbinding, creepy lyrics of the poem. Eyes brightened by the increase in his pulse, he felt enlivened by the creepy, passionate narrative. "A poem called "Nemesis" by H.P. Lovecraft. He's definitely a new favorite of mine. I'm surprised your parents allow you to read such cheap rags, Miss...?" A playful smile ghosted over his lips, watching her with amusement as he gently pressed with a sultry purr, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name? I'd very much like to know it."

 

[incendonocturne]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-the dark waves of her hair was only a mere glimpse. The rest indeed piled atop her head at the back, however not ironed and pressed. It spoke volumes to her tendencies. She could certainly be proper or at least semi so when need be but she did prefer the wilder, less tame form of being.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Precisely!”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-the word rushed at a slightly higher volumed breath from her lips, excited for someone to share her views.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]And when he mentioned Frankenstein, her eyes lit softly as she glanced to the pile of tomes beside her, fingers caressing over her copy of Frankenstein as well before trickling up to sweep over the handmade booklet. A finger tapped lightly against the bound papers within.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“An absolute must and me too.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-a curious wonder was written across her features as she leaned forward a bit. Her chin rising softly, the slender column of her neck stretching just slightly as her head tilted and she cast a curious glance to the magazine he pulled toward his lap. Chocolate orbs licking over the cover in bright wonder before the paper rustled as he opened it.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]The clearing of his throat drew her attention upward. A cheeky grin paraded across her lips as she’d been caught in quite an unlady like position. A silent laughter danced across her gaze as she settled back into her seat. She gave a gentle nod of her head as if encouraging him to continue and she settled in to listen. Hands folded in a teasing, mock primness in her lap.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Her eyes upon him as he read, watching his eyes as they swept across the page. Watching as his lips formed the words and nearly drown in the deep timbre of his voice. A faint flush creeping along her alabaster cheeks as voice and prose resonated within her.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]A hum of agreeance rattled softly in her throat, that Mr. Lovecraft was a favorite, curls bouncing gently with the nod of her head. She leaned forward once more, at his inquiry of her name. Her right hand lifted and extended toward him boldly. Her mother and sisters would gape at the sheer disregard for proper etiquette, being he was little more than an acquaintance but how was he to become more if she did not introduce herself?-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Prudence Lucille Mayweather and there are a lot of things my parents don’t [/BGCOLOR]allow[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)] but I do them anyway.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-again that cheeky smile found its way to her lips, that mischievous glint flashing in her eyes.-[/BGCOLOR]

There's an ancient, ancient garden that I see sometimes in dreams,
Where the very Maytime sunlight plays and glows with spectral gleams;
Where the gaudy-tinted blossoms seem to wither into grey,
And the crumbling walls and pillars waken thoughts of yesterday.
There are vines in nooks and crannies, and there's moss about the pool,
And the tangled weedy thicket chokes the arbour dark and cool:
In the silent sunken pathways springs a herbage sparse and spare,
Where the musty scent of dead things dulls the fragrance of the air.
There is not a living creature in the lonely space arouna,
And the hedge~encompass'd d quiet never echoes to a sound.
As I walk, and wait, and listen, I will often seek to find
When it was I knew that garden in an age long left behind;
I will oft conjure a vision of a day that is no more,
As I gaze upon the grey, grey scenes I feel I knew before.
Then a sadness settles o'er me, and a tremor seems to start -
For I know the flow'rs are shrivell'd hopes - the garden is my heart.

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-her tone soft and lilting, a beautifully haunting and somber breath as she recited the poem from memory. She was silent a moment when she finished before she spoke again.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“I read them when they aren’t looking and memorize them for when they are.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-she chuckled, her cheeks blossoming into soft curves as she smiled. Then her head canted curiously, curls tumbling against her shoulder briefly.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“And you are?”[/BGCOLOR]

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

Mayweather. He recognized the name and quickly checked his own extensive knowledge of the current socialite circles to place the family that owned it. If memory served, her father was an earl, although of what estate, he was uncertain. Being a duke himself, usually he didn't associate with lower classes, instead, invited to parties and functions with Princes and other dukes. Getting to know the lovely young woman across from him, it was a bitter pill of irony as he realized how much he'd bought into the status and games of those infantile aristocrats, having almost let such a precious, dark intellect nearly slip him by.

Taking her offered hand, he assumed she only wished to shake his, yet being a rakish fiend of the Night, merely wearing the clothes of a sophisticated gentleman, as soon as he saw her offering, he wished for more; to press himself upon her as much as she and decorum would allow. So, gently, he turned her hand, cocking her wrist slightly with her fingers grasped snugly in his own, and bowed elegantly over the appendage. His dark, soulful gaze watched her face as his lips rested against the back of her hand for a stolen kiss, brushing lightly his facial hair against her soft skin. She was incredibly soft, delicate, and the smell of her was intoxicating as he got so close to her. Of course, her blood smelled divine, the pulse of her veins crying to him, but also the scent of her as a woman, full of none of the pomp and superficiality of a well-bred noblewoman, instead her fragrance mysterious and enticing, almost as if she were seducing him to lure him so close.

"Charmed."

Sitting back and releasing her, anything else he might have said next was swallowed within a sudden, gaping hole in the Earth, Emery struck dumb as she began to recite the poem for him. He recognized it as more Lovecraft but it wasn't one he had memorized and as he let her voice envelope him in the soothing tone and imagery she painted, he found himself not only enraptured but once again impressed by her. It was worrisome, her comments about enjoying doing things against her parents' wishes. On the face of it, the rebellious spirit and lack of conformity were intriguing and attractive to him. But among their wealthy circles, there were always those young women who were defined by dissent and subversion of their families, no matter what hat they had to wear in order to get the true attention they sought.

As her lilting voice swept through the gloomy, dramatic prose, Emery was spellbound by the clear passion she felt for the work and the emotions it evoked. This was no professional disobedience on her part but genuine love for the haunting words that came from her beautiful, alabaster throat. A true kindred spirit then, someone else to appreciate the darker things in life with. He didn't dare think for a second that she would ever accept him and his true nature but his black, woeful heart stuttered to even hope such a hopeless, despicable thing.

Clapping softly to her once she had finished, Emery smiled and said, "I rather enjoyed that, thank you. You deliver it well, my lady. I wish to hear all my Lovecraft stories read or recited in your voice. You definitely have a flair for the drama and tone of it." He paused, his smirk curling with a mischievous appreciation for her impish admission. "And I'm glad to hear that I'm not the only one who starts in on "The Raven" or The Monk at haut monde functions that have grown dull and chafing with their superficial inanities. Just to add a bit of flavor to the atmosphere, or better yet, more easily extricate myself from loathsome monotonous conversation. Less direct but more polite than simply asking people to silence themselves. In a way, once you get into Ambrosio's narrative with twisted depravity, the invitation is clear enough anyway without actually having to ask."

When she asked for his name, he hesitated. Not that he assumed she was the sort to cling to dull superficial examples of wealth and title, but he didn't wish to reveal himself as a duke. He outclassed her and certainly her father and it would likely silence her to pull rank in such a way. Especially right when she was becoming interesting.

"Emery Riegler," he offered with a polite inclination of his head, omitting his full title. "Might I ask, Lady Prudence, what business brought you to London? Visiting family, perhaps? Where are you from originally, if I may be so bold?"

 

[incendonocturne]

-he would find no resistance from her as he turned her hand. Instead, he’d feel the soft flex of her fingers against his own as he held them and again as his lips held the attention of her flesh.

He’d see the soft flush curling against the apples of her cheeks. Not from his actions, if they so bothered her, she could have easily pulled her hand away and would have been well within her rights to correct him for such cad-like actions but rather from the slip of her own virtuous thoughts as his scruff swept against her skin. The brief thought of what it would feel like as it brushed against her as he pressed his lips elsewhere against her flesh, decorum be damned.

Pulse her veins did, in a slightly higher beat as her heart fluttered gently in her chest as she struggled to push those thoughts away. Who was really seducing who?

With a soft clearing of her throat again, she straightened. A small but proud smile curling the corners of her lips.-

“Perhaps you will, again.”

-she said coyly, the blush fading as her previous thoughts were replaced. A melodic laughter escaped and the hand he’d previously held rose, shaking a playful finger in his direction. The feel of his lips still lingering against her skin as she did so.-

“Yes! Or a bit from William Allingham’s ’The Ruined Chapel’ is one I like to use at such functions as well.”

-nestling back against her bench, her hands folded in her lap. Thumb idly stroking over the back of her right hand as he offered his name. The faintest pinch of her brow and a soft part of her lips the only indication that perhaps it stirred something other than less than virtuous desires in her. A tickle at the base of her brain. As if she’d heard it before, though she could neither place when or where, nor in what context. If she recognized it, she gave little else away and nothing changed in her demeanor toward him.-

“Emery.....”

-she repeated softly, her voice just above a whisper. A soft nod of her head as she tasted it on her tongue as if she were trying a new flavor. Her head canted, eyes widening softly as she turned her focus to his inquiry about what had brought her to London. An amused gleam darted across her gaze as it cast downward for just a moment.-

“You may be, at any time you desire.”

-she smirked softly as her gaze rose to meet his again. She rather enjoyed the boldness they both partook in.-

“Visiting family, no. Not unless I have a relative in the Coventry that I’m unaware of. My parents thought to ‘drive the devil out of me’ by sending me to the Tyburn Convent. Thankfully the Mother Superior saw that I am not possessed by anything more than a desire to be myself and graciously agreed to send me back home to Redditch. Not to mention, I think I drove her nuns a little mad.”

-she added the last cheekily.-

“And what of you, Emery? Where are you from? What brought you to London, other than the lovely magazines?”

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

An arresting look came to his face as she welcomed him to be bold any time he desired. Over and again, he flip-flopped between necessity, needing to uphold appropriate etiquette but genuinely delighting in the naughty way they both seemed to skip right over it all to the good stuff. Giving her a cute, private smirk, Emery purred, "Oh dear. Don't put the standard at whenever I desire. You give me too much free reign, I may never be proper with you again, my Lady."

As she further elaborated on her London visit, a huffed laugh of amusement burst from Emery over the irony of it. And he was pleased even more to hear that she was from Redditch, a town not far from Bromsgrove. A few hours ride by carriage even, and the thought of her so close sent a small, eager thrill through him. "Jesus. A convent. I'm glad to see you survived it with your self intact, let alone that they set you free at all. Not many are so lucky. I'm sure your parents will be thrilled to see you again, so unaffected by your stay. Then again, it always baffled me the stock people put into nuns and holy men. Not to sound blasphemous or anything, and not to discredit you by any means, but I'm sure any derangement displayed by the sisters had very little to do with your visit at all. If anything, they were probably looking for an excuse to act out and the Mother Superior had to get rid of you in order to restore some flimsy semblance of control."

He graced her with a charming wink and smirk, loving to tease her and shower her with the ghastly version of compliments that they allowed between each other. "If I were you, upon arriving home, I'd put on an act, as if their plan worked and it truly changed me, the stay among those duplicitous habit wearers. Just really, lay it on thicker than they'd want it, even being sanctimonious to a grating degree. As soon as I caught wind of anyone wishing under their breath, or hinting that they preferred the old me, I'd instantly turn it off with a smug, "Glad we agree.""

Another gentle chuckle,even as he considered it further with a sigh of chagrin. "Then again...it might make you sad to discover, as is often the case with highborn families, although I cannot speak for yours, that they might not even care or notice. So long as you're no longer "weird" they might be happy." He gave her a patient shrug, pressing his lips together as if such a thing felt very typical and couldn't be helped. "It might be fun for a spot of entertainment though if your family don't expect you to return as a nun, to go about smacking knuckles with rulers and judging your sister or whomever for her racy hairdos and vulgar tittering. Nobody likes a mealy-mouthed holier-than-thou family member running around.

"Redditch is not too far from me, actually," he said pleasantly, an obvious warmth and invitation in his smile as he adjusted his suit coat. "I own an estate in Bromsgrove. I've got a lovely garden, not unlike Lovecraft's poem. You might find your heart there." He smiled again then cleared his throat and looked away. That really was too bold. A bit presumptuous and almost lewd, even if he was referring back to the poem she'd recited. Then again, nothing he'd said yet had been fair for elegant company, so, he wasn't sure why he floundered at the hint of her heart residing in his gardens. As if calling nuns duplicitous wasn't scandalous enough. He tried not to think of her...visiting his home...wandering his gardens and the pale glow of her skin in the moonlight...

"I was invited to a friend's home for some socializing," he recovered with a shrug. "Not my favorite but I go, put my time in and then enjoy the rest of the time on my own. I like to visit the mortician while in the city. It is fascinating the strides they are making in the sciences and I love to watch them work."

 

[incendonocturne]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-[/BGCOLOR]her lips pursed ever so softly before a smile blossomed[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)] coyly across them. A soft tsk preceding the minor rise in standard she offered.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Alright. In proper company, you must be on your best behavior then?”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-a brow lifted softly, the bemused smile remained. Implying that whenever they were alone, as they were now, his desire to be bold was completely standard and welcomed. As well as implying there would be more chances of them being solely in each other’s company in the future.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Clearing her throat softly as a chuckle rattled right behind it, she teetered forward with the faint laughter. Slender fingers tucking a strand of loosened curls behind her ear. Her parents would be anything but thrilled of course to see their plan had not worked, in the least little bit.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Now there, There you are correct. As long as I’m ‘normal’, they wouldn’t bat an eye, even if that normalcy was on the other end of the spectrum. They’d finally be able to marry me off to an excruciatingly boring man of [/BGCOLOR]their[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)] choosing as they’ve done to my sisters, instead of me ‘scaring’ them off with my odd little intricacies and fascinations.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-her eyes rolled softly, an exasperated sigh escaping her pretty painted lips. The idea of smacking one of her sisters or even her mother with a ruler however had its appeal, a look of consideration flirting across her features in fact as a dark little smile curled the corners of her lips. She could see her mother’s face now in fact. She loved her parents, her family as a whole but their constant and eager need to change her, their want for her to be just like them; it was exhausting to say the least.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Her gaze brightened when he mentioned the short distance between them. Bromsgrove was not but a few hours ride. The fact that he owned an estate did not peak her interest as much as his mention of a garden. A lovely garden at that. Nor did she flinch at the overly bold invitation. A sweet smile bloomed as her head tilted just a touch, loosening the dark tendrils from behind her ear and allowing them to bounce freely again.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Perhaps I’ll have to follow and retrieve it some day, then.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-a soft hum followed before her gaze dropped with just a touch of a demure smile upon her lips. Bold indeed. She glanced toward the window, watching the shades of obsidian splendor pass them by. Her eyes finding his reflection in the glass however, finding him by far more fascinating than the darkened shapes of landscape. He was dark and vibrant and mysterious. Her chest rose and fell, constrained against the bodice of her dress. Swallowing softly, she let her attention shift back directly upon him. Gleaming dark orbs caressing his features, genuine fascination for him and what he’d been doing in the city, danced across her face.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“The mortician. Now [/BGCOLOR]that[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)] sounds fascinating. I may have to visit someday myself. Would make for some interesting new discussions at an insufferably boring party.”[/BGCOLOR]

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

"Indeed. Have you ever seen a dignitary spit? It can be triggered by merely touching upon the subject of draining a corpse of fluids let alone getting into the actual details of where they usually stick the probe to relieve them of such."

-he gave her a wolfish smirk, his dark eyes lingering on the curls framing her face as they wrestled free from the perch behind her ear, dangling soft and touchable above her shoulders. She truly was enchanting. Not even balking at the thought of being in the same room as a dead body, her eyes lighting with fascination over the scientific intrigue in it, ghoulishly curious. Had he finally found someone worthy of his attentions? Even before his death and rebirth as a soulless monster, Emery Riegler had been an odd sort. If any of his old friends and family still lived they would have declared him to be offbeat at the best of times and unsettling at the worst. And ever since his turning, it'd only gotten worse, his interests leaning more towards the dark and depraved, almost like he hungered for sin, shadows growing like fungi within him. Which were not typically things women of any century found appealing.

Most women who found him attractive were not privy to these parts of himself, usually in a deliberate attempt on his part to get something from them, whether a feeding or simple pleasure. He felt no remorse over the slew of memory-wiped ladies who'd left his bed, thinking him just a harmless, charming gentleman like their fathers or brothers. There was some hope then, since her interests ran so ghoulish, that the Lady Prudence could stand to keep her memory intact after a night with him. And all at once, he admitted to himself that he would have her. The demon that resided within him, wearing him like a skin, raged possessively at the mere mention of her parents marrying her off, even if it was in the hypothetical and a cynical joke besides. His dark beauty being courted by someone else? He'd kill the man they dared set in front of her, regardless if he ended up not being boring or someone she might like. Already, he had deep plans of her body beneath his, legs wrapped around him as he drove himself into her succulent heat.-

"Ah. Better not then. Just keep it honest. I'd hate for someone excruciatingly boring and too stupid to be fearful to be standing in my way."

-the direct, knowing smile he gave her then, spoke volumes, full of all his pride and intent, night-dark eyes hot enough to scorch the pale skin from her bones. Before they knew it, the train ride was at an end, pulling into the dimly lit station with hisses and rumbles, and truly, Emery was loathe to leave her and the intimate warmth of their compartment. Who would have thought he'd find a haven much more alluring than the peace and quiet promised him at Bromsgrove castle?

Leaving the train ahead of her, Riegler offered her a hand as she stepped gingerly from the train car, and he didn't release her even when Prudence was safely on the stone platform. Bending low to lay another lingering kiss upon the back of her hand, Emery gave her a deep and steady look, his eyes drinking in every detail he could before she'd be out of his sight for a time.-

"It's been...more than a pleasure, my Lady," he said in a silken, fervent purr. "Tonight will linger with me, your melancholy voice haunting my thoughts until I am graced to hear it stab into my heart again." Oh, the irony. "I pray to all the ancient and terrible Ones from Lovecraft's horrendous nightmares that you have a safe ride home. And by some miracle they can grant you, a respite from your blithely inane and vacuous family."

-glancing up, a slender man of 5'4" approached them, hair flaxen and shaggy under his driver's cap, and the unkempt scruff on his chin befitting a man of his lower station. The driver, because she'd still need one to get home, Redditch being still 45 minutes from the station and Bromsgrove a little over an hour, his own car and driver waiting in the darkness by the stationhouse somewhere. Blue eyes frowned in suspicion as Tommen approached where Prudence and the stranger stood, finally looking to her for confirmation that she was alright. Still, he lingered a moment, borderline disrespectful, when she told him to put her luggage in the car, almost as if he didn't want to leave her with the mysterious dark gentleman. When they were alone again, Emery sighed softly, his eyes finding hers again.-

"Well, I best be off, my lady. I hope we meet again sooner rather than later. Keep up with your reading, eh?"

-At that, he raised the magazine, gesturing a friendly salute to her, before he stopped, looked at it with a frown, then suddenly handed it to her. His expression cleared, filling with warmth, allowing her to have the cheap tome, filled with its gruesome short stories and gothic poetry.-

"Here. Something to tide you over until we see each other again. It'll give us something more to discuss when that time comes." He smirked and shrugged playfully. "And hopefully, I'll be the agent of more gritty and frightful things to torment your family with."

 

[incendonocturne]

-her head tilted as she watched him. Still quite fascinated even by just the way his lips formed the words he spoke. Every little nuance in his features drew her further in. Feelings she’d never experienced when dealing with other men.

A small shake of her head, her lips a stoic line at first. She’d never had the pleasure of seeing such, neither the reactions to hearing such gory details nor seeing the details played out for her own eyes. Not even when she’d bring up the likes of gorier tales told in her many readings. The thought thrilled her to no need though.

As his smirk slid darkly across his lips, a laugh bubbled from the slender column of her throat. Her hands clapped together in absolute joy as she shifted on her bench.-

“Oh, now I must see this. I fear one of these days they may grow tired of hearing any of my darker tales and simply ignore them. I need something to keep them on their toes.”

-she chuckled. Although she wouldn’t mind either if they just ignored her tales and subsequently her as well and just let her be who she was. It would be nice but she knew it was likely never to happen. There was always going to be that push to find that once sweet and bubbly little girl she’d been. They would continue to try to shove tales of brightness and love at her. They would continue to try to shove spectacularly boring men at her. The cycle would go on until either she gave in or they gave out.

She glanced out the window again, briefly before her gaze fluttered back to him. A soft curve of lips greeting the searing look he gave. Her heart thrilled and quickened at his words. A hand rose to the soft swell of her breast as she cleared her throat and glanced to the side. Another soft blush creeping along her flesh. She reached for her hat, her tongue dragging primly against her lips before she spoke.-

“It looks like our stop approaches.”

-she said wistfully as she began to gather her things for the none to welcome departure. Her hand in his as she stepped from the train, she no more wished to relinquish the contact than he did. Once more he had her dark little heart pattering erratically inside her chest as his lips claimed her flesh again. Her eyes pinned him darkly from beneath the brim of her hat, the lights from the station catching the gleam within them as she once again found herself stumbling head first into his voice, poetic and dark. It would remain with her and follow her into her dreams as she slept.

So enraptured was she, that it took the faint clearing of Tommen’s throat for her to notice that he was there. Her eyes flicking away from Emery with reluctance, the pretty smile of her lips fading as she sighed. A simple nod told the driver that she was fine.

The smile that found her lips again was wane, remorseful that their parting ways was coming too soon. She had found a kindred spirit, one she felt comfortable to be around, one that thrilled her, in so many ways and once again, her family was getting in the way. Even when they weren’t physically present.

She blinked at the offered magazine, slender fingers, still burning with the warmth he’d left upon her hand, curled around its pages before she boldly stepped forward. Knowing full well how closely Tommen was watching, magazine and hand pressed lightly against Emery’s chest as she lifted herself to her toes and swept her lips in a brief kiss, warmly against his scruffed cheek at the corner of his lips.-

“Thank you, Emery.”

-her whispered words sang with the same melancholy as before before she stepped back, eyes finding Tommen having straightened and admonishing her with a look. She glanced back at Emery and smiled sweetly.-

“I have a feeling you will be within the hour.”

-clutching the gift to her chest, she turned and started toward the waiting car and Tommen, casting one more glance over her shoulder before she disappeared into the opened door, pulling her feet and skirts in behind her.-

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

A kiss! Emery sucked in a harsh breath, growing rigid as her sweet, delicate lips practically touched his own. Oh how she tempted the dark, bestial parts of him. So tantalizingly close... How he craved her, how he wished to grab ahold of her, crushing her body to his own, terrifying her with the primal intensity of his need as he plundered her mouth with his sinful tongue. And yet...he felt complicit in her innocence by resisting, drawing away with a respectful warmth to his stately smirk, as if she charmed him completely with her boldness and her chastity. The man and the monster that he was, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, married at the sight of her, the promise in her voice and smoldering, demure grin. As much as he declared his desire to consume her, to own her, to dominate her, all in a look, she floored him, silenced him, enticed him as he faced the mirror within her own expression. Indeed...Emery had finally found his match...-

"If only I were there to see it..."

-Watching her go, his hand tucked elegantly behind his back, Emery met the glare of the driver with an unaffected directness as the shorter man walked around the automobile and got behind the driver's wheel. And still, he stayed, waiting for the car to turn and drive down the road before he himself started to walk in the opposite direction, looking to find his own driver waiting with the car. As he walked, a pacific air hung around him, a smile touching his lips, his cheek still humming with the sensation of Prudence's kiss.-

"Evenin', your Grace," Maximillian, his driver, said in a respectful, nasally European accent. "I hope the train ride treated you well."

"Indeed, it did," Emery grinned, walking to the opened door of the car and sliding smoothly inside. "I met my soulmate. I stole a kiss from her and she stole it back."

"Is that so?" Max raised an interested eyebrow. "All in one train ride?"

-Riegler chuckled good-naturedly as the man closed the door behind him.-

******

"I'm having the hat modified. Lord knows, as much as the designers and shops in Kastner are up to date with the London fashions, they hardly seem to know what to do with the coordination of fabrics."

-The gentle clink of porcelain accompanied the stately conversation as tea cups were lifted for a sip and breakfast was daintily eaten from the opulent china plates. Atticus Robert Mayweather, 7th earl of Redditch, sat at the head of the intimate breakfast table, morning light filtering in through the grand windows to his left, setting a regal, stern cast to his features. The newspaper sat half opened and folded in thirds on the table by his right hand but he was attempting to divide his focus, politely, so as to give his daughter the attention she deserved.

The conversation wasn't really for him, directed more towards his wife who sat at his left, and rightfully so, since women's fashion hardly concerned him. But ever since his eldest daughter had gotten married last spring, moving an hour away to her husband's town, Kastner, the earl hardly got to see her except for a week out of every month when she visited. It was during these times, the Mayweather estate filled with all his daughters and the company of Calvin Cleary, his new son-in-law, that Atticus felt the warm contentment of years gone past. He used to think he would wish for the empty nest, having worked so hard for it, but with Prudence having been gone for the last fortnight and Christinith absent most of the time, it felt rather empty. He would even gladly admit that he missed his 3rd daughter, with her morbid weirdness. With a huffed chuckle under his breath, taking a refined bite of his jam and toast, he wondered how long it would take him to take back those thoughts.-

"Kastner's a little behind the trends,"

-Calvin said in a boyish parody of a man's voice, pausing to sip his sugary morning tea. Blue eyes, bright like a summer's day, skin glowing with health, and blonde hair combed neatly back, dressed in a gold and blue accented cream suit, he was the picture perfect of the ideal husband. Heir to the Kastner countdom, he lived with his great aunt, the Cleary Countess, and stood to inherit the estate and her fortune when she passed.-

"It's not back woods or anything," he continued, proper and delightfully breezy at the same time, "but Christinith is definitely making strides to bring the culture up to speed. Almost singlehandedly revolutionizing the fashion industry and shops there."

-he flashed his wife a charming, supportive grin, careful to resist the urge to lean in and kiss her cheek, merely stroking light fingers over her hand before retreating quickly. He knew how she disliked being touched in front of others, finding it so gauche and improper to put affection on display. His wife had a temper and a cruel, spiteful nature, that regretttably did not exclude him as he had quickly learned, having also quickly adapted on how best to avoid overstepping her boundaries. It was a privilege to be connected to the earl's family and he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his status.

Christinith Mayweather, now Lady Christinith Cleary, the eldest of the earl's daughters, sat at her father's right hand, casting her husband a condescending, rewarding smile for his praise, allowing the touch and grateful for his respectful brevity. Fresh faced, with blue eyes like a dove, her blonde hair pulled back in a casual, yet fashionable style, she was elegant perfection. Up to date, dressed head to toe in the finest and most popular, if not expensive jewelry and clothes, Christinith paid attention to appearance most of all. Secondly, she put a lot of time and energy into custom and etiquette, priding herself in not only her outstanding breeding and schooling, but also making sure that if anyone dared step out of line, they were corrected right away. And also making sure that everyone was alerted about the mistake.-

"Well, I am always glad to help, if only to ensure that when I go to buy a hat for travel, I don't have to have them tear it apart and rebuild it to simply make it presentable. Heaven knows, if I were to look foolish, it would reflect poorly on not just our family and the countess's family but all of Kastner as well. So, really, it is a service I provide to elevate us all."

-tipping her head modestly, she looked up with the new arrival of her dreadfully dark sister into the dining room, her bird-blue eyes lighting up and her smile widening to see her.-

"Prudence! There you are, my darling little sister!"

-she cooed in her usual patronizing tone, eyebrows etched with pity and leaning forward with feigned interest.-

"My goodness, travel does not agree with you," she hummed a soft chuckle over that, cringing slightly as if it simply couldn't be helped. "No matter, I'm sure after a few days, you'll recover well enough. It is lovely to see you, anyway."

-as Prudence took the seat at the table beside her mother, the butler came at once to her side, bringing her plates of breakfast items and holding them for her to allow her freedom to serve herself without getting out of her chair. From the head of the table, her father gave her a reserved yet loving smile in greeting, his dignified eyes trying to read her before he seemed to give up, returning to his paper now that Christinith was distracted. last night upon her arrival home, he and the footman had been the only one awake to greet her. Aside from seeing her first hand and knowing his little girl well enough, he'd also been notified by the butler during dressing this morning, the driver had seen her kissing some man on the train platform when he'd gone to pick her up last night. It was something he dreaded to bring up but being cut from a similar cloth to his other daughters and wife, he eventually would, craving the confrontation and necessary explanation.

Usually, Calvin leaned well out of the way when Christinith got in a mood to get after her sisters. But when in a recent conversation he'd made an offhand comment about Prudence being too unsettling for him to even imagine her being someone's wife or mother to children, he'd found that Christinith enjoyed it much more to have an ally when mocking the literal black sheep of the family.-

"I hear great things about the sisters at Tyburn Convent," Calvin said conversationally, feeding fire to Christinith's passive-aggressive assault. "Turning about even the most rebellious souls under their care. In just a few months, even."

"Indeed!" Christinith lit up with delight, rewarding her husband with a joyful touch on his arm before grinning excitedly at her little sister. "You weren't there for very long, Prudence, so, it seems they must have had great success with you. Are you better now?"

 

[incendonocturne]

-almost as soon as the door closed behind her, she was opening the pulp magazine to the poem Emery had read to her. As she did, a small piece of paper fluttered from within its pages and landed, stark white and curious against the obsidian of her skirt. She blinked and lifted it. Her eyes lighting in the shadows of the back seat. A full, beautiful smile blossoming like a rose against her crimson lips. As Tommen settled into the drivers seat, mildly distracted, she folded the paper and stashed it quickly and quietly into the pillowy softness of her bosom. If her new gift was confiscated upon arrival at home, she didn’t want the address to go noticed and be taken as well.

Tommen gave her a cold greeting, meaningless words to welcome her back home. Her greeting was as icy in return before her attention fell to the magazine in her lap. For the entirety of the forty-five minute ride home, she read and re-read the poem. The tickle of Emery’s voice ringing in her ears, sending a soft but pleasant shudder through her small frame. For the very same reason, she memorized it, in case it was taken from her. It joined a plethora of others in the cataloged files of her mind.

Her greeting to her father upon arrival was loving, as happy as was expected of her but short. She feigned being tired, wishing to retire as soon as possible to the comfort of her room and bed.

She’d risen early, a soft hum on her lips as she busied herself with dying her hair, the blond that had begun to creep in during her time at the convent was once more returned to its beautiful raven color. While she fashioned it close to her head, it was looser than she knew would be appreciated, parted in the middle and pinned at the nape of her neck, leaving the ends to puff wild and untamed behind her. She donned a midnight black dress, the skirts sweeping the floor, giving just a peek of the dark shoes beneath as she moved. Scandalously, however, she left her arms and most of her shoulders bare. Opting to leave the jacket behind for the time being.

A small sniff was Christinith’s only response for the moment as Prue settled into her seat. Dark eyes casting over the choices presented to her. Though she did cast her father a small smile as she gathered her breakfast, as well as one for her mother beside her, despite the soft glare she received from the elder woman for her lack of proper dress, especially in company. What her father couldn’t see, was the soft flutter of her heart, that had not quieted overnight. Not at the enjoyment she was getting out of being rebellious or weird, however.

Lifting a piece of fruit to her darkly painted lips, smoky eyes lifted and drifted across the table, pinning first Calvin and then her sister in a death like glare.-

“Chrissy. Sickeningly sweet, hellishly ugly, sister, dear. It is never a pleasure to see your foolish face, in all its lies and condescendence. Your travels back home is what does not agree with me.”

-a smirk curled her lips as another bite of food slid past them. Her next statement purred happily from her tongue. Dark eyes holding steady and challenging on her sister.-

“My own travels on the other hand, were quitepleasant and enjoyable.”

-a genuine smile actually curled her lips, her gaze fluttering wistfully to her plate in front of her for a moment. Wishing she could revisit the train ride home.

When she looked up again, her attention was upon the boring man her sister called a husband. A slow, mischievous expression tugging the corners of her mouth.-

“Of course you’ve heard great things, Cal. You don’t think those duplicitous habit wearers would reveal their true natures, do you? I mean, I know you’re dense and all, having willingly married the cow that is my sister but surely......”

-a bare shoulder rolled softly as a chuckle vibrated along the slender column of her throat.-

“Nevermind. It would be silly of me to think you were smarter than that.”

-her gaze shifted darkly upon her sibling. A smile resting on her dark and pretty features that spoke volumes of how much better she felt.-

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

"Here we go,"

-Calvin remarked lightly on a sigh, lifting his cup of orange juice for a quenching sip to hide both his discomfort with Prudence's nasty rebuttal and his thrill over her predictable reaction. Now, he could pleasantly sit back and allow his lovely wife to take the reins of the attack, having done his part to coax the flames. And it would be fascinating to see what kind of mood Christinith was in for what mode her attack would take.

The lovely blonde shook her head delicately, crossing her wrists on the tabletop as she sighed in feigned disappointment. It appeared that she would be using the "refined older sister" tactic, which could be just as entertaining and rewarding as when Christinith allowed herself to get just as dirty and petty as her rebellious younger sister. Everything about her body language articulated a measure of smug pleasure, even as she released condescending breaths of despair over such socially boorish behavior.-

"So childish. Honestly, I merely asked after you because you're my baby sister and I care about you. And all you can do is be rude to me. I should've realized not to get my hopes up. It would take more than a month stay at a convent to fix what's wrong with you."

-Calvin's lips twitched with amusement, and of course, Christinith wasn't done using him as a handy bludgeon for her sister.shrugging pretty shoulders, Christinith took a sip from her tea as she continued primly,-

"I'd also appreciate it if you would show a bit more respect to my husband," she said, reaching over to rub her hand at the back if his in encouragement. When he flipped his hand over to more readily hold hers, she subtly disentangled their fingers, retreating back to her own space without batting an eye from her dark sister. "He's a very important man and he stands to inherit a great fortune and title. You can say all you like about me but you'll leave my dear husband out of it. Besides, it's pretty awful to be so offensive all the time. Nobody was attacking you. It just doesn't make sense and you look like a lunatic."

-she ended with a snotty huff and roll of her eyes, once again drinking from her tea cup. It likely could have gone on with Christinith launching another well crafted attack but fearing that by the time it was brought up, Prudence would be too defensive to answer properly, Atticus decided now was the time to inquire about the stranger and the kiss that had been reported to him.-

"Quite," the earl said in a regal baritone, nodding once to his blonde daughter and her excellent choice in mate. "A count is a very respectable title to inherit. Speaking of travels," he said, leaning a little to peer more steadily at his darker haired daughter. "I was a bit disconcerted to learn from Arthur this morning that you were seen last night kissing a strange man at the train station."

"What!?" Christinith exclaimed amidst the harsh clatter of dishes as she abruptly set her tea cup back on its plate, her smile just a little too bright as she leaned in interest towards her younger sister. "You were kissing someone!? Who!?"

"I would like to know what you were thinking," her father continued, ignoring Christinith's gleeful outburst, giving his younger daughter a steady, disappointed frown. "Bad enough you apparently shared a private car with a strange, older man during the trip and were seen exiting the train with him in a friendly manner. But then, in front of God and the whole county from a train platform, you kiss the man on the lips."

-if she'd had the voice to speak, Christinith would have exclaimed about that as well. As it was, all she had the energy to do was gasp sharply, a dainty hand flung up to cover her gaping mouth in unadulterated astonishment. Calvin too was wide eyed with shock, albeit more restrained and immediately more patronizing than his wife.-

"Well, a lot of good Tyburn did then, eh?" the blonde gentleman said with a scathing frown both over the convent's failures and Prudence's risque behavior. "How many hours was she out before she found a stranger to neck with?"

"Oh my God," Christinith could only agree in horrified gasping, despite the amazed smile that stayed upon her pretty full lips. Truly, it was hard to tell if she were offended or if this were some sort of gift from Prudence, in her eyes.

Atticus would not allow his younger daughter to be distracted by other defenses, however. As he continued, a footman, dressed in pristine white and black, hurried quietly into the room, practically a shadow as he came by Prudence's side, placing a letter into her hands. "You're unwed, untethered," the earl was saying in a reverberating voice. "I deserve an explanation. God knows there's nothing we could do to correct it now but at the very least I could be reassured that you haven't either lost your mind or that you're not being deliberately vindictive towards me and this family."

-as for the letter in Prudence's hand, it held the weight of importance by its mere construction, let alone the urgency with which it was delivered. The paper of the envelope was thick, well-made, and the sheaf of pages folded inside too were of very rich paper. In flowing script on the outside of the envelope, it was addressed to Lady Prudence Mayweather. And in the corner, it was sent from...Emery Riegler, the Duke of Bromsgrove. Even in his little note to her, slipped discreetly inside the pulp magazine, his address jotted down for her use, Emery had failed to make note of that minor detail of status.

Inside, there were two large pages, folded together down to the size of a grown man's palm to fit the envelope. In black writing, messy and elegant at the same time, Emery filled the pages with his emotive outpourings and passionate thoughts.

My raven-haired lady,

Is that too bold? Can I call you mine yet? I thought after the intimacies we shared, at the least, I could claim you, my secret-bearer.

I tried to wait. I was to allow you to discover my note, to allow you to take the lead in this dance at least in some parts. But it might chill you to know I bear no restraint or strength of will when it comes to you. Barely home and already I'd foregone my original plan, as well as sleep, to sit up in the night to pen you this letter, if only to excise these torturous musings, like toxins from the body.

I can still feel the gentle press of your lips against me, my darker thoughts wandering to what might have occurred if I'd pressed you more deeply for a kiss only a man could give a woman who has him spellbound so. Proper society be damned; not like their nuns are helping them any. Bolder than ever...you see what you do to my pen, freeing up these shackled and tamed eccentricities, these hideous yearnings in my black, soul damned heart, all from the most gentle, chaste tickle of your lips to mine. If we ever do it again, you shant walk away with less than a stumble, I promise you, my lovely secret bearer.

You're like my drug...my glorious, insidious poppy - beautiful, temptuously red, innocently delicate, yet your core chemical makeup is the most addictive substance known to man. Unlike the poppy, thoughts of you cripple me with a nonstop thrumming ache, an agitation that barely lets me sit let alone find sleep... In that way, possibly you are like opium, because I am certain all of my maladies would be cured if I were in your presence again.


My addiction, my Poppy.
My gravest wishes of all unholy things be yours. I pray to the dead, drowned gods that we may reward each other with company again.
-Emery

 

[incendonocturne]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-as if to accentuate agrreance with Calvin’s remark, she gently pushed her plate forward. Almost in mocking of both him and Christinith, she folded her hands atop the table, darkly painted nails tapping ever so softly against the backs of her hands as she waited. [/BGCOLOR]Waiting for her sisters rebuttal.

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Her eyes bore darkly into her sisters, watching without emotion as she rolled through her prim and proper act. Noting her unwillingness to let Calvin hold her hand, brought just the faintest twitch of a smirk to her lips.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]She licked her lips in the silence following her sisters words, her lips dropping open softly to retort, when her father drew her attention instead. [/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Her gaze softened. A brow perking curiously, wondering if her father was going to defend her or not this time. Not that she expected it but she always hoped. When his words signified who’s side he would take in today’s little game, the softness of her gaze hardened, her brow furrowing gently. A soft sigh escaping her, though her attention never left her father.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Her lips pursed inwardly together as she fought to keep the smile that wanted to spring forth at her fathers clear disapproval of what he’d been told. It wasn’t until her sisters outburst that not only did a smile burst across her dark lips but a quiet chuckle barreled up from her throat. Her hands unfolded and flattened against the table top, once again preparing to speak, when Christinith and Calvin were finished with their jabs.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]This time her distraction came as a footman hurried to her side. A hand lifted to receive the letter, offering him a soft smile and nod, her eyes dropped to the beautifully flowing script before shifting to the corner. She heard her father continuing, his words fading just a measure as she read the name and then....the title attached to it.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]She blinked softly, [/BGCOLOR]a light unlike any they’d likely seen before reached her eyes as her lips curled into a beautiful, albeit dark, smile[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]. Her attention fluttered up to her father then. Her hands dropping from the table, clutching the letter in her lap as she spoke.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Deliberately Vindictive? At least when I am, I do not hide it behind sugary sweetness like Christinith does, Daddy. I do not pretend to be anything other than who and how I am.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-everything she’d been prepared to say moments before was left in the dark corners of her mind as she drew in a breath and continued.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Yes, I am unwed and untethered because I can not stand any of the boring, young men you and mother think will ‘fix’ me. I am [/BGCOLOR]not[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)] broken. As for the man on the train. Yes, we shared a car, being as the rest of the train was full and he was proper enough to ask my permissions to join me. I found him intriguing and dark and mysterious and I wanted to get to know him. There was no necking involved, Cal, sorry to disappoint you. I assure you all, all of my virtues are still intact,[/BGCOLOR] for now[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)].”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-her gaze bounced to Calvin and her sister momentarily before shifting back to her father, her expression stoic once again as she continued.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“I kissed him, indeed but not on the lips. The cheek, just here and it was in appreciation of not only him gracing me with his presence and rapt attention but the reading gift he had given me as well.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-she admitted unabashedly and tapped her cheek, just to the side of her own lips. A small smile danced across her mouth and as she lowered her hand once more to her lap, she let her gaze dance over everyone at the table with her as she delivered her final admission.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“That man is by far more important than your husband, sister dear. And even you, Daddy.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-she started pushing her seat back, shaking her mothers hand from her arm as the elder woman began to stop her.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“If you’ll all excuse me. Emery Riegler, the [/BGCOLOR]Duke[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)] of Bromsgrove, requests my attention again.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-as she stood, she lifted her letter with a bright smile, aimed directly at her pretentious sister and brother-in-law. She did not personally care about Emery’s title. In the least but she knew it would wiggle under Christinith’s skin that her weird, dark, offensive little sister had garnered the attention of someone of greater standing than she had and without the aid of their parents at that.-[/BGCOLOR]

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

-as a man of his word, the earl of Redditch waited patiently for his daughter's explanation, truly wishing to know how she defended such open and exposed displays of impropriety. It was one thing to get embarrassed by her at dinner parties in front of guests and quite another for her to be so bold in public. In fact, he was being truthful to accuse her of acting maliciously. It was his first thought when Arthur informed him this morning of what Tommen had seen, not missing the same connection and timing that Calvin had remarked upon. So soon after being released from her temporary exile, acting out in such a scandalous manner? How could he not take it as a personal attack upon his decision to send her to the convent? Decisions that he would continue to defend, frustrated by her rejection in his attempts to love her.

It did set him somewhat at ease learning a bit more context from her, although he wasn't happy no matter where she kissed the man, nor why. It wasn't like any of the common folk also at the station that night were going to see where she kissed and understand her reasons why. However, he was a little pleasantly surprised and even delighted to know that she was interested in a man. It wasn't likely someone that he'd approve of but if she left the convent feeling amorous, very likely, he could set before her some of his newest acquaintances and hopefully catch her eye. She called them boring but all he heard was that she wasn't mad at him about the convent and she was genuinely interested in kissing someone. It would be best to get a man to agree to be with her before any scandal broke from this.-

"Oh, please!" Christinith exclaimed, amused and horrified. "You kissed a man who gave you a book!? And it doesn't matter where you kissed him! You shouldn't be kissing people! Honestly, what a horrible daughter you are!"

-the last things Prudence said, everyone willingly quieted for, Christinith narrowing her gaze at her wily sister's cryptic statements as she pushed her chair back to rise. The final blow had blue eyes popping wide, her pink, pouty lips falling open as well in an undignified manner, a ladylike hand noticeably absent to cover it, both appendages left useless and slumped on the tabletop. Being so close to Bromsgrove and the inherent nobility of that class, of course the name rang a few bells. However, the Mayweather family were never prominent enough in society to get invited to any Bromsgrove events, nor rub shoulders with Riegler at any other parties. The man was an elusive high bar that they would never even hope to touch, despite his proximity right in their backyard.

Christinith was left gaping at the waved letter, visibly flinching as if Prudence has flicked water into her face, as the double impact hit her. Not only had Prudence sat all cozy with a Duke in a train car for a 3 hour ride home and kissed him in an immodest, shameless way that surely would have chased away any other respectful man of his stature. But she'd made such an impression to already receive correspondence from him! It was not even 9:30 in the morning, the mail hadn't even gone yet. He would have had to sent the letter by his personal envoy as early as 7:00! They'd been but 8 or 10 hours apart; what more could he possibly have to say to her dreary little sister that hadn't been covered in the train ride?

As Prudence took her leave, Christinith hung around with Calvin to discuss the shocking news with her father. Around noon, satisfied that she'd not only recovered from the news but also reasserted her dominance in the situation, Christinith went to find her little sister. She found her in the gardens outside which was absurd because it was raining; for once, Prudence's hideous umbrella was actually being put to proper use rather than embarrassing everybody by shielding her from the sun at a social picnic. Nonplussed, Christinith took out her fashionable, pink lacy umbrella, and pearlescent silk coat, stepping out into the overcast day to join her little sister amidst the hedgerows and vine-clutched stone walls. It was spring, so, the crocuses, irises, and hyacinths were blossoming. Bumblebees, fat and fuzzy, unheedful of the rain, bumbled about and Christinith sighed over at least some beauty here, despite the uncooperative weather.-

"Ah. Good to see you have some sense," Christinith remarked as she came to stand beside her sister, fingers drifting out to stroke at the sleeve of her frock coat. Still, she clicked her tongue and sighed. "Although, such an awful, hideous color. I suppose it is you, though."

-tipping her head slightly, she gave her sister a look of beautiful affinity, the blossom in her cheeks and the glow in her eyes almost making her adoration appear real and deep.-

"I owe you an apology. I misjudged you. Turns out, all this time, if we'd all just aimed a little higher, you would have found love worthy enough for you. I am proud of you. I don't approve of the kissing, not even if it got him to send you a letter literally hours after being with you. It doesn't make you look good, is all I'll say but I respect the good catch. I am happy for you. ...and sad."

-during her little speech, Christinith looked off in a wistful fashion, planting the tender seed at the end of her spiel, knowing exactly the questions it would prompt. Tipping her head back, her smile grew smug just a moment before her eyebrows etched with pity and she mewled in sympathy at Prudence.-

"Sometimes when something is too good to be true...it is. Daddy knows of this Duke and apparently, he's a rake. A well-known libertine, he's been a bachelor for years and has a reputation for sullying the reputations of unwary young ladies at court. It is plausible that he has finally decided to settle down because you just happen to be the right woman. But...more likely, in your innocence, you've made promises you didn't intend to make."

- Christinith pursed her lips in mocking astonishment as she tapped her cheek near the corner of her lips, indicating the nefarious kiss that had unveiled the entire morning drama. With another deep sigh and shrug, pressing dainty lips together, she continued,-

"Don't feel bad. I'm sure father will fix it. He says he's met a lawyer from the shire who seems respectable enough and he's invited him to stay for the next 3 days to meet you. It'll be so special, now that you've shown interest in romance, to see these blossoms bloom. But, as your older sister, I would caution you against any more overt flirtations. It makes you look entirely like the wrong kind of girl. As true as it might be to your character and who you really are, we can't have everyone knowing about it or making assumptions. That simply wouldn't be fair to mama and dada."

 

[incendonocturne]

-nonplussed by her sisters scathing words, she smiled regardless and when she’d finished speaking, she waited a moment, quite enjoying watching the fall of the smug look upon her sisters features. A small tsk escaping as she stepped away from the breakfast table.-

“You’re liable to catch spiders in that dark and gaping maw of yours. Close your mouth, dear sister. Honestly! How uncouth and improper of you.”

-she took great delight in the chance and moment to verbally swat her sister on the nose for such behavior, as Christinith had done to her countless times. A chuckle following her as she exited the room and hurried to her chambers.

With gentle but eager fingers, she opened the envelope as she settled into the chair at her vanity. Her heart beat heavy in her tender chest as she read the words scrawled in Emery’s hand and then read them again and a third time. Growing more smitten with each word as they repeated in her head, her heart beating it seemed in time with each as they tickled across her mind and she could almost hear them coming from his lips.

She was lost in the tormented script, feeling it in her very depths. Once again, she found herself longing to be in his presence, wishing she’d have accompanied him further rather than coming home. The rain falling against her window, like nature’s tears for her missed opportunity, drew her from her thoughts. Leaving the pages beneath the envelope, she donned her frock coat and her umbrella and wandered quietly out to the gardens.

When Christinith found her, she gingerly held a dark purple iris between her fingers as she watched the bumbling bee drinking from its depths. Letting a thumb stroke feather light against the bulbous body of the creature when it graced her the opportunity to do so.-

“You would know all about awful and hideous, Chrissy.”

-she murmured softly, her head tilting as the bee fluttered off in agitation at the disruption of their shared serenity, to another row of flowers. With a sigh, Prue released the flowers bloom to settle back into place and straightened, turning to face her sister. Her expression calm but unreadable otherwise. Until the soft perk of her brow indicated her curiosity to why her sister would be sad for her. Not that she put much stock into her apology, much less anything else the elder sister had said but she was truly curious at that. Waiting quietly for her to continue. Both hands curling around the elegant wolfs head handle of her umbrella, she listened.

Offering a soft sniff, her head tipped just slightly as she looked her sister over in her gaudy pink and shiny outfit. They truly were like night and day.-

“And sometimes things are just as they appear to be. Not everything is as devious as you are nor how you all wish me to be. Perhaps, like me, he has merely been waiting for the right woman, rather than the one that society and everyone else deems he should have. And who says I don’t intend to follow through with promises made, knowing or unknowingly?”

-as did they all, Christinith assumed her innocence in all things. Just because she held to her virtues, did not mean she was completely innocent of course. A scoff echoed along the path and she shook her head tenderly, her eyes fluttering as she peered at the ground at their feet a moment before a smile and defiant gaze rose to meet her sister once more.-

“I don’t feel bad. And daddy has no need to ‘fix’ it. None of you need to fix me. I am just fine, I am not broken. The sooner you all realize that, the better it will be for everyone. There will be nothing special, no ‘blossoms blooming’ with this lawyer. No overt flirting, none at all in fact, fore my heart does not reside in a garden in the shire nor here but elsewhere.”

-every word delivered with calm and grace, there was no snark to her tone. She would not rise to that level as she had that morning. Like her heart, her mind was elsewhere and she simply wished not to argue. It was clear none of them had listened as usual this morning when she’d proclaimed she was not broken. Evidenced by her father’s actions already. Evidenced by her sisters assumptions that she was ready for any type of romance. She simply sighed and turned, intending to walk further into the gardens, away from her sister. Deeper into the preferred solitude.-

“In case you may have missed it all these years.....”

-she added, stopping and turning once again to face Christinith, her features drawn softly. As if it physically pained her to know that her family was so blind.-

“I care not what others think of me nor what assumptions they make. I enjoy being different. Unlike you, I am and will be willing to show my passions, my love and adoration in public as well as private. Perhaps you should go show Calvin some affection. He craves it, he loves you, only Hell knows why but he does. Perhaps you’ll eventually see how wonderful and liberating it can be.”

-again she turned, twirling her umbrella with a soft hum on her lips.-

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

Ugh. Boring! Not only had Christinith heard all this stuff before but as recently as that morning in fact! As if repeating it over and over again made it any more true. She knew for a fact that Prudence was broken just to look at her. And everything that came out of her mouth, an impudent, obnoxious mess. How was that not in need of correction?? The only one who seemed clueless of the fact seemed to be Prudence herself, determined to placate her insecurities by defending her strange behavior and acting unladylike and aggressive towards anyone who tried to show her the proper way. It was incredibly frustrating but Christinith was committed, if not solely for her sister's happiness in finally coming to heel in the ethical and dignified way of living, but for her own happiness as well.

Prudence had chased away about half a dozen suitors already and was starting to gain a reputation. Just the other day when she'd heard about Prudence getting shipped off to Tyburn, Countess Cleary, Calvin's aunt, had inquired if Christinith's little sister was possessed. She'd been horrified! It was bad enough that Prudence made a fool of herself and embarrassed herself and their father when guests were over but she seemed determined to make a mockery of the Mayweather name altogether. Christinith couldn't stand it! And just like with the fashion overhaul and refinement of Kastner's clothing outlets, she was going to do herself and all the family a service by making sure her little sister got married proper and shut up about all these hideous, ghoulish things. Ship her off to wherever the lawyer lived and they'd never have to hear from or see her again and people would stop looking to Christinith to validate these awful rumors.

Huffing in impatience and looking away in discomfort, Christinith brushed off the comments about Calvin. "Calvin is fine! And of course he loves me! We don't need to kiss each other in front of gawking eyes or hold hands every five minutes to know that. It's impolite and needlessly lewd to constantly put it on display. Besides that, how my husband and I express our adoration and appreciation for each other is none of your business. We're married. You, on the other hand, are not, so, no, they're not promises you intend to keep. Not if you have any sense or virtue left at all."

Licking her lips, clutching at her umbrella with uneasy hands, Christinith glared after her sister and her retreating umbrella along the cobblestone pathway. "You should care what other people think! Because your carelessness and selfishness is going to put our father into an early grave! But being the hideous vampire you are, you'd probably find joy in breaking an old man's heart and killing him! Grow up, Prudence Lucille Mayweather! What other people think is not just about ruining your life but bringing shame to everyone else around you! It takes maturity and self-respect to carry the burden of heritage with grace!"

With another emotional huff, Christinith turned on her heel, holding up her skirts with one hand as she rushed back up the pathway towards the house, her blood boiling. For the rest of the afternoon, she consoled herself by venting to her other sisters over the ridiculous things Prudence said and how unbelievably self-absorbed she was. It wasn't until a few hours later, just before lunch, when the lawyer, Joel Tinning, finally arrived that Christinith had composed herself to make an audience for him.

She had rushed back to her rooms to get freshened up and dressed for lunch and company by her lady's maid when she heard the carriage pull up the drive. So, Christinith, dressed in gorgeous, stunning white and navy blue laced dress, her collar upwards halfway on her neck, new makeup applied and her hair redone, arrived in the drawing room a little late. The fire of pride and adoration glowed within her eyes to see Calvin already there, standing with her father and the newcomer, flashing charming smiles and looking so relaxed and confident. He was absolutely beautiful and so refined and sophisticated; Christinith truly loved him and his intuition for class and punctuality in making impressions. They made a good team.

After pleasant introductions were made, Christinith doing her husband a favor and letting him know how proud she was of him for covering for her, she linked her arm loosely into his. She didn't even think twice over the way he subtly seemed to glance at her, his chest puffed up over the contact, the boosting effect she had on him to literally have a beautiful woman such as she on his arm. Finally, even later than Christinith, Prudence made an appearance, her father motioning her over with a pleased grin.

"Ah, here she is. Lady Prudence Lucille Mayweather, may I introduce you to Mr. Joel Tinning, the lawyer from the shire."

Despite his lack of title, Joel had a very respectable career and worked for a large Redditch county law firm. And he made a hefty amount of money, indeed. Wearing a fashionable suit, although not as fine as either Atticus's nor even Calvin's, was still very classy, dark blue with burgundy tie. He was cut from a very similar cloth as Calvin Cleary as far as looks went, the men sharing a stylish haircut, combed and slicked back. Blue eyed with boyish features, it was hard to pinpoint his age. He wasn't tanned as Calvin was and there was something underclass about the bulge in his eyes, but he had fine pouty lips, a fine, handsome bachelor if ever there was one.

Holding out a hand to shake Prudence's, Joel's stern, refined features broke just enough to ease a smile at her, obviously pleased well enough with the beauty of the Mayweather's middle daughter. "I've been told you like to read? I hear from my sister that Ann of Green Gables is coming out with a new one in the series this year. And she definitely enjoyed Pollyanna and Sense & Sensibility. Do you know Jane Austen?"

 

[incendonocturne]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-seeing the discomfort, a tick of a smile twitched at her lips.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“Ah but do you love him? Or just his status? Hmm? What I crave and wish for is no more your business, either, Chrissy. And [/BGCOLOR]yes[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)], I do intend to keep them.”[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-she spat right back at her sister before a small gape stared back at Christinith, over her shoulder, just around the edge of the obsidian umbrella. How could she think she truly wanted to see their father dead? With a shake of her head, not even willing to give her sister the satisfaction of a reply to that, she started moving again. Her hum gone. Her mood darkened. In reality, all she wanted was her family to love her for who she was. She was not blind. She was not foolish. And she did not always completely go against the grain. She saw how, even their father, enjoyed taking stabs at the little black sheep, rather than loving her for her rarity and it hurt her, more than she’d ever admit but she was just as stubborn as they.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]She waved off any help in getting dressed and ready for the lawyers coming visit. She wanted to be alone. She had a letter to write in return and frankly, she didn’t care if she was late getting to this meeting or not. He could wait, Emery [/BGCOLOR]would[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)] not.-[/BGCOLOR]

My Dearest Emery,

You have yet to be too bold for me and as I said of being bold, you may claim me however you wish.

I am glad you didn’t wait, your letter being the only thing to make my dark little heart hum since I’ve been home. Hell knows, it wasn’t a warm welcome from family but I digress. I knew how it would be.

What I didn’t know was, that a kiss meant only for you would result in my father thinking of it as me showing an interest in any kind of romance and he has promptly made arrangements for some lawyer from the shire to visit for three days. Three days of misery and contrary to my sisters belief, I do not wish to see our father in an early grave. I fear that if I don’t behave I will put him there or they’ll just continue to push their own idealistic men upon me and drive me mad in the process. Would you still wish to make me stumble, if I were stark raving mad?

If you were to come uproot said Poppy from this hellacious garden to its proper one, your wishes and prayers will be rewarded.

~ P

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-no mention of his status, not even in greeting. Not even to question why he hadn’t told her before. And it was as bold as she had been on the train. Addressed and ready by noon, she set about dressing for lunch.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]She met the mail delivery, envelope in hand and tapping nervously against her fingers. Once she saw it off personally, she made her way back into the estate, chewing softly against her bottom lip as she approached the drawing room. She took a moment to compose herself before she entered, well after everyone else was in attendance.[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]Her eyes lit upon her father, soft but not entirely so. Her eyes grazing over the pleased grin upon his features. She swallowed thickly, wanting nothing more than to escape back to her chambers.[/BGCOLOR]

Smoothing a hand over the darkly stained material of her skirts[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)], frilled as they were, she was still a very stark contrast to her sisters.-[/BGCOLOR]

”Finally.....”

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]-she heard Ophelia mutter beneath her breath as she was ushered past the youngest of her sisters. She felt the weight of Christinith’s stare upon her, as well as her mother’s, as her hand swept out to shake the lawyers. Her expression remained stoic but she met his eyes boldly.-[/BGCOLOR]

[BGCOLOR=rgb(25, 49, 66)]“I do, very much so. However, I gave up reading children’s books some time ago. And Jane Austen, while well versed, bores me. I find my pleasure in reading the likes of Mary Shelley, Edgar Allen Poe, Bram Stoker and Lovecraft. Perhaps your sister would enjoy them as well?”[/BGCOLOR]

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

It was worth being roused from his deathlike sleep for word of her. As soon as Jim, his human butler, entered the large, cavernous room, Emery was pulled from slumber, the predatory part of him instantly zeroing in on the scent of human blood and the fragile, living sounds of the butler boldly crossing to his bedside. By the time he was there, holding aloft a 5 antlered candelabra, Emery was sitting up amidst the mountains of rich, fluffy and cool bedclothes swamping his massive bed. Black, gauzy curtains veiled him from the warm glow of the candle flames, draping all around the bed from the ring of black iron suspended above. Even still, Emery rubbed a hand to cup his forehead, massaging both sides of his throbbing temples with thumb and fingers. Not a smidge of daylight cut through the thick, obsidian curtains on his windows, yet he could feel the blasted sun in the sky, like an oppressive weight in his skull and shoulders.

By the time Jim was at his side, Emery had stifled the more primal, bestial part of him, realizing intuitively, there was only one reason the butler would have disturbed him, because he'd been given strict orders to do so earlier. Through the part in the see-through black veil, Emery's hand emerged in solicitation for what he already knew the butler had, Jim sniffing stoutly as he placed the envelope into the duke's waiting palm.

"What time is it?"

Emery murmured as he beheld the letter, reading the flowy, feminine script, noting the lack of title in his address with a soft grin. As he broke the seal, an overwhelming warmth swept through him, his heart beating like a distressed magpie within a tiny tin cage, nervous as a schoolboy over whether it contained a rebuke or an invitation.

"A quarter 'til five," Jim responded in a deliberate punctuation typical of a Scottish brogue.

As Emery's eyes swept over the script, the beating in his heart did not slow or calm, the warmth of him increasing as her words sank into him. In his head, he could hear the sultry melancholy of her voice, the sigh of defeated resignation she might give when describing her clueless family. Dark eyes flashed with purple iridescence in his anger as he realized the critical situation she was in, the exact thing he'd already mentally planned an attack against during the train ride. A man. A lawyer. And in his way. It would not stand and he'd be damned if he allowed it to go on for even one day without challenge, let alone three! Even still, her final lines settled into the pit of him, curving the corners of his lips up in a heated swell of triumph. An invitation it was then. More than that...she spoke so open and wantonly, if he'd been more virtuous, she might have made him blush. As it was, there was merely a stirring of life beneath the covers strewn over his lap.

"Does she go in for a duke?" Jim asked in a slightly mocking lilt, his lips twisted to the side with a mischievous smirk.

"Shut up, Jim," Emery sighed in mild irritation at the teasing butler, shaking his head as he folded the letter again.

"Ah, I know that look," Jim's eyes were bright with amusement by the light of the candelabra, his smirk smug and knowing. "Sun sets at 7 this time of year. What time do you need to be ready by? I'll order the car 'round."

Emery was pensive a moment longer, staring at nothing as he contemplated his strategy. The fact of the matter was, Prudence, his addictive maiden, had already fulfilled the contractual obligations of his curse. He didn't entirely understand why he needed an invitation to enter private residences and non-public spaces, but he did. Whatever had changed him in death so long ago had made it so thresholds and property lines physically repelled him unless he was extended permission to cross them. Thankfully, once was enough unless he was thrown out or banished by an owner or deed carrier but still, it was frustrating at times when trying to make a spontaneous appearance somewhere.

The earl of Redditch had not invited him and in fact had no idea that Emery was coming. He wondered if he should phone first but at the risk of her father revoking the invitation she had extended, even implicitly, as like he was to do because how could he politely refuse a duke when they already had plans? But showing up unannounced would lose him a few social points, especially if he made a scene and didn't care. Then again, eccentricity was something he was known for, so, what he lost in etiquette only added to his colorful reputation.

Looking up at his butler through the sheer black veil, determination filled his black gaze as he said, "Dinner's at 8. We leave at 6. I'll wear my shades and a top hat."

******

After Prudence's odd, grotesque comments, there wasn't a whole lot to say to salvage the conversation. As it was, Joel wasn't smart enough to know some of the authors she touted, nor was he clever enough to do more than chuckle, thinking she were being playful. To save the day, Christinith moved them over to the sitting area of the drawing room where the tea and biscuits were delivered. After that, they all sat around and chatted Joel's ear off, learning about his work with the shire's law affairs. It wasn't all too interesting to the women, least of all Christinith, but she wasn't really listening to be entertained. Mostly what she heard was that he held a respectable position in the community, he made good money, he was intelligent and bookish, and he was passionate about his work. What better man could she hope for her sister to have?

As 8 p.m. rolled around, everyone slowly gathered for pre-meal drinks and games in the drawing room again. The atmosphere had decidedly changed with all of the sisters dressed in evening gowns and the men all wearing white tie tuxedos, as was the custom for dinner. Calvin was entertaining the girls in a silly game of bridge, squeals of delight and much laughter over his teasing ringing through the room. Once again, Joel tried to engage with Prudence in semi-privacy, standing by the crackling fireplace.

"There's a lovely little bookshop in the shire," he was saying, holding a squat, crystal glass with a finger of amber liquid inside. "I am not sure if they have any of the books by authors you like, because I've never heard of them before. But you could always order books delivered there. All things considered, with your sisters' tastes in fashion, I think books and reading is a pretty inexpensive hobby by comparison."

It was heavily implied that this was good for him because although he made good money, it was nothing next to a count or an earl who oversaw counties and such. Calvin guffawed loudly from the bridge table as Ophelia danced, having won a good game against him and her sisters. Christinith, although chuckling, rebuked her for wiggling her hips too much and looking saucy and foolish.

About this time, nigh when the meal was just about announced ready, the footman came to the door from the main hall. Standing elegantly aside, he announced in a loud voice,

"Emery Riegler, Duke of Bromsgrove."

The man had barely finished going over his title before Emery emerged in a sweep of black cloaks, looking menacing and regal at the same time, donning black specs and a dashing hat. An air of superior smugness enveloped him as everyone turned to regard him with shock and awe. The stunned silence was satisfying but nothing touched him more than the light and pretty smile on Prudence's face as she met his gaze. Giving her a wink, he allowed the footman to assist him out of his traveling attire, handing off his cloak, specs, gloves, and hat to be set aside for when he chose to leave.

Atticus regained his composure first, clearing his throat and blinking in worry as he stepped forward to greet the visitor. "It is...a pleasure to meet you, your Grace," he said, licking his lips in uncertainty and rubbing his old hands together. "To what do we owe the honor of your presence here tonight?"

"Short story? I heard you all were having company for dinner," Emery said with a grin, a tiny obsidian skull dangling in his left earlobe, catching the light as he turned and motioned breezily at the room. "Point of fact, that since I had neglected to officially stake my claim on your daughter, you went ahead and planted a rival in front of me in line. I'm here to make my intentions known. Officially. Sorry to throw a wrench in your matchmaking weekend or whatever but I did see her first. No offense to the kid you picked out -- is that him?"

Casually pausing his fast, free-flowing speech to point at Joel, still standing with Prudence by the fireplace; in response, Joel awkwardly glanced behind himself at the other occupants of the room, as if there were any possibility he could be referring to someone else being at that moment. Emery looked over the other man for a moment, cocking his head in consideration, nodding in appraisal and pursing his lips. Jokingly, he raised an eyebrow and shrugged at Prudence, as if to say, 'Well...actually, he's not bad. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to be pursued by hot lips? No? Okay.' finally ending the unspoken conversation with her with a placated shrug of acquiescence, before turning back to her father.

"Shorter-short story? Poppy invited me. You can claim the honor all you like, but I'm here for her."

Atticus stiffened in agitation over the nickname, glancing at his dark haired daughter, even as Christinith gasped over the intimate address. Emery blithely ignored them, taking the moment to motion at the butler standing nearby, asking for a glass of scotch.

"Poppy?!"

"Yeah. My darling. See? We're already getting on well beyond first names, already onto pet names. Might as well send the judicial twig home before this becomes humiliating."

"What if I say 'no'?" the dignified earl replied firmly, giving the duke a steady look in the eye which Emery met with just as penetrating a stare.

Finally, Emery shook his head slightly, a sunny grin bursting forth as he said, "Nothing. You can try to say 'no' to me but not even the Devil, the Great Tempter himself, can lure me away from claiming my prize. And your daughter is. She's a treasure I intend to hoard."

Taking the drink in hand, thanking the butler who'd delivered it, Emery drifted away from the earl, subtly dismissing him as he came to stand with Prudence and Joel. A low murmur started in the room as Atticus rejoined his wife to talk quietly with her, obviously unnerved by the situation but feeling helpless to alleviate or change anything. The other sisters too spoke quietly, Calvin watching the trio by the fireplace with an uneasy expression while he listened to the women.

Wearing deep, richly black suit coat over top of a grey and charcoal patterned vest and black and grey striped tie, Emery was not dressed in the appropriate dinner clothes. However, with his overwhelming presence of class and nobility, the sharpness of his dark eyes and the sharpness of his trimmed, dark facial hair, instead of looking like the awkward one, the other men looked like plain magpie birds tutting about the room. Eyes bright with wolfish delight, Emery said to Prudence,

"Hello, gorgeous. Did you miss me?"

Feeling slighted and not quite sure what to do to alleviate the sensation, Joel thrust out a hand, awkwardly and suddenly for Emery to shake. The duke cocked his head, giving it a confused, reptilian look of expectation, smirking slowly as Joel spoke,

"Hello, nice to meet you, your Grace. My name's Joel Tinning. I work as a lawyer in the shire."

Hilarity ghosted under every breath as Emery beamed, shaking the younger man's hand as he said, "Nice to meet you, Joel. You should probably just go home now. Unless you had your eye on another sister...?"

"Mr. Tinning is my guest and he will stay as long as he likes,"

Atticus piped up from the other side of the room, trying to exert power and force in his voice. In the end, it came off as bluster, as if he were simply being contrary for the sake of defying the duke in any way that he could.

"Your call, my Lord. I always did enjoy a bit of Schadenfreude over dinner." With all of that nonsense out of the way, Emery turned his attention to Prudence. "I have a present for you. But I'm shy and I want to give it to you privately, after dinner. Before I forget, in answer to your question...the madder, the better." And again, he gave her a charming wink.

 

[incendonocturne]

-she stared quietly at Joel, gauging his reaction as she’d delivered her words. Her brow furrowing softly at the chuckle. Her head canting softly to the side. She could tell he knew nothing of the authors she’d named and that in and of itself made him all the more boring.

She was, for once, relieved when Christinith stepped in and moved them to the sitting area. She was all too willing to let her sisters and mother gather ‘round the lawyer and verbally peck his ears until they bled for all she cared. In fact, she’d much prefer the sight. While they sat gathered around him, she stood sentry at a nearby window, gazing out into the lowering sun as it swept across the lawns. She was listening but would barely murmur a reply when addressed as they tried to draw her into the conversation. From time to time casting a mournful gaze at the man her father had chosen, groaning inwardly at the sheer thought of three days spent in his company.

Once again, blissfully relieved when it was time to dress for dinner. This time she allowed her maids to help her. Despite their valiant efforts to get her to wear something of a lighter shade, no doubt requested by her darling eldest sister, she was unmoving in the dress that she had chosen for dinner. They chirped like little birds one last time at her as they cinched the corsets crimson ties and she promptly ignored them. Shooing them from the room while she added her accessories.

As Joel approached, she cast a weary glance toward her sisters and Calvin, almost longing to be part of their games, rather than to stand here and chat with this man. Flashing a wane smile at Joel, she bat her eyes softly before she spoke.-

“Of course you haven’t, Joel. Most don’t find death, horror and all dark and mysterious things as appealing as I. And Lovecraft is newer than the others, being published in pulp magazines, not really to be found at nice little bookshops. Personally, I prefer ordering and collecting first editions, so not really as inexpensive either. It takes some searching, something I’m not sure that a small bookstore would be able to handle but perhaps.”

-she quipped glibly. Her attention on Joel, short as it was, was pulled away by the commotion of the game again. And then....anything he had to say henceforth was drowned out by the footman.

Emery’s name alone had barely cleared the footmans lips and Prudence was turning, eyes widened in soft expectation, her nostrils flaring softly as she drew a deep breath into her lungs as her dark knight indeed stepped forth. Her chest rose and fell sharply, her heart beat like the hooves of a galloping horse beneath the blood red jewels that hung like crimson tears against her porcelain chest.

Her head tipped slightly in Emery’s direction, her lips curling into a beautiful, blood red smile. Smokey eyes fluttering, though held completely captive by his presence otherwise. She didn’t glance over her shoulder at Joel even when Emery asked if he was the young man that had been put between the two of them, she merely nodded softly in the only answer given to Emery. His unspoken question received a wrinkle of her nose and a sharp shake of her head as she chuckled darkly. No. The answer was all in her dark eyes though, quite pleased and excited that Emery had indeed come in pursuit of her.

When her father glanced at her, her chin lifted softly and she nodded once.-

“I indeed did, Father.”

-she admitted without batting an eye, though her gaze shifted to Christinith once her father’s gaze released her. A smirk cutting like a bloody line across her lips at Chrissy. Her eyes dancing over all of the Mayweather women and Calvin as Emery for all intents and purposes, told her father to stuff it, he was staying....for her.

Then she turned toward Joel, the first truly happy smile any of them had seen on her since her return home, bloomed. There was a soft fire burning in her gaze as they took in the towheaded lawyer. No apology, neither in her eyes nor on her lips. Only the shake of her head in denial. He stood no chance. The jewels that wrapped around the tight, prim and proper bun, as red as those on her necklace, caught the light as they bounced with the shake of her head.

She felt him, like a dark cloud creeping, as he drew up beside her and her gaze shifted, softening as it fell upon him. Her left hand snaked boldly beneath his arm, coming to rest against his forearm. The firelight bouncing off the onyx and ruby gems of the spiders body where the ring nestled on her middle finger and climbed the black webbed slave braceletalong the back of her hand.-

“Like the darkness. From the moment I left that train platform.”

-she answered breathily and honestly. She had ached to be in his presence again in fact. It would seem, he was as much her drug as she was his. The difference would be notable in her as her family looked on. Watching how comfortable she was with him, the light in her dark eyes whenever she glanced in his direction. Nothing as she had been with Joel, not in the least. Definitely still the dark little sheep of the family but she seemed to thrive, feed off of and enjoy Emery’s.

Her tongue darting between her painted lips, her eyes fell on her father, just over the lawyers shoulder.-

“Yes, he is your guest, Father.”

-her eyes shifted to Joel, her fingers tapping softly against Emery’s arm as her other hand swept in the direction of her parents.-

“You should probably go chit chat with your host. Myguest and I have some catching up to do.”

-she offered him a tight smile after she’d interjected softly before Emery could speak. A glance toward her sisters to see Ophelia and Christinith, fingers covering their shocked and gaping lips and Adelaide smirking softly behind her fingers, before Emery drew her attention. A brow lifted curiously, her head tilting.-

“You? Shy?”

-she chuckled, her grip tightening slightly against his arm as she turned inward and against him.-

“And I have something for you, Em.”

-a mischievous glint flashed in her gaze as she lifted slightly and kissed him, just as she had on the train platform, just at the corner of his lips. In front of her family, Calvin and Joel. Her free hand resting softly against his chest as she settled back to the floor, her gaze steady on him but her words most definitely directed at Christinith, as well as Emery.-

“A promise I most certainly intend to keep.”

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

It was like by mere proximity, they two were magnetized to one another. Hard enough that as soon as he was close to her, Poppy put her hand on him, warmth rushing through his veins and his arm tensing beneath her, muscles turning hard like granite beneath his suit coat. But there again, as soon as Joel had drifted away from them, his addictive flower planted another kiss upon him, his entire form stilling as her lips slipped delicately against the dark whiskers encircling his own. If it hadn't been for the steely eyes of her father and gasps of her sisters, Emery would have made good on his own promise to buckle her knees with a kiss of his own. As it was, it took almost his limit of strength to restrain himself.

Behind them, Joel stood murmuring in low voices with the earl and his wife. Obviously, despondent from being so rejected by his date, Joel weakly defended the necessity for him to leave. It took a little urgent convincing from the earl - much to his resentment; the lad would have to be bolder to win, for Heaven's sake - but finally, Mr. Tinning was convinced to stay and continue to vie for the attentions of the third eldest daughter, despite the dark and handsome distraction that had arrived to steal his thunder. Eyes, bright and full of darkness like a moonless night, Emery shook his head at the dark beauty who so slayed him, his earring a little bauble of darkness twinkling at his left earlobe.

"Mad like Alice. I could just eat you up. Would you tempt me so? Challenging promises that I made, while your family yet breathes down my neck? Or do you simply torment me with prolonged, unmet desires? Hoping to drive me mad, perhaps? Folie a deux."

Abruptly, a quick, playful hand came out to gently swat the back of her fingers, clever amusement twinkling in his gaze. Then with a sniff, he reached forward to delicately adjust the spider ring on her finger, pinching it between his fingers to right it even as he admired it's glittering gem, a smirk touching his lips.

"Sorry. I thought it was real. My mistake. Lovely bit of finery." Bold fingers stroked up her hand, mildly displacing the black metal lines with the drag of his luxuriating touch. "Almost like you're a crypt, unopened for ages, stone corners and walls draped with cobwebs. And a little friend to keep your decaying remains company. I love it. You can drape my chambers any night."

He truly was bewitched with how she looked tonight. It gave him freedom to know how smart and darkly macabre she was, that he could thoroughly enjoy her appearance. Black and red, the colors of his bedclothes. It made him think of her, sprawled out, pale skin bared to the candlelight, her dress lost among the sheets and covers beneath her and her legs languidly spreading wide, thin wisps of dark hair barely hiding her swollen peach as it blossomed open with her thighs....

Clearing his throat softly, some of the hungered haze clearing from his eyes, he flashed her a polite grin to cover his momentary lapse into lewd fantasy. To distract himself from his surge of libido, Emery reached forward and delicately stroked one of the ruby gem droplets dangling at her collar, his voice laced with a huskiness that hadn't been there before.

"This is beautiful too. Almost looks like someone made art out of the implication of a slit throat." His finger traced from one gem to the next, occasionally his warm skin stroking at hers as he admired the jewelry. "What a hideous, romantic way to die. Lifeblood pouring from your neck like a scarlet waterfall. If you were to die, how would you wish it to occur?"

Christinith was at her wits end with these two. The game table was a mere 6 or 8 feet from them and despite the duke's seductively low tones and husky whispers to her sister, Christinith could hear everything they said. Every horrible, indecent, crass little joke, innuendo, and outright explicit promise. Bad enough Riegler looked at her little sister like he might ravage her in front of them all at any moment - and Prudence gave him looks like she might fight him for first bite; already had if one counted the second kiss she'd slipped past daddy's notice! - but he also talked of nothing but sex and death, the two most sordid conversation topics anyone could have in noble company. It turned her stomach and she desperately feared for her sister's virtue, just being in Riegler's presence, but further, she was full of anxiety over the shambles of her family's reputation should the duke make a conquest out of her. It seemed the brain dead, moonstruck Prudence would do nothing in her own defense or preservation of honor and might just let him have her here on the floor like a barnyard animal.

When the footman arrived to announce dinner, a loud, dragging sigh of relief left Christinith in a heavy gust, rising with her sisters and husband to leave the suffocating embarrassment and tension in the drawing room. In her heart, she offered a little prayer to the saints and angels that the commencement of dinner would offer them a respite from the mortification they'd as yet had to endure. In the dining room, the shades had been drawn and the long table brought out, candelabras of fine silver set upon the crisp white tablecloth and pristine, gorgeous china laid out at each place setting. As everyone entered the room and took their seats, light conversation resumed.

Holding out the chair for Prudence, Emery tucked her into the table, ever the gentleman, even as he stroked at the blood red baubles and gems in her hair, getting to see them for the first time, standing behind her seat. Like a fool, Joel was there, reaching for the chair beside her before Emery cut in like a dark shadow, hand on the back keeping the other man from pulling it out for himself. There was a tense moment as everyone stopped to watch as Joel floundered, ears reddening in humiliation. But Emery took it calmly, shrugging with a flash of a condescending grin at the younger man, tilting his head in supplication for the guy to simply accept defeat like an adult. As Joel turned to take the seat on Prudence's other side, only to once again find himself blocked as her elder sister Adelaide had taken it, he waffled in indecision a moment before huffing and taking the seat beside the duke. By this time, Emery had already seated himself beside his maiden, having cast Joel and his silliness out of mind.

When the first footmen were coming around table, stopping at individual seats one by one to allow them to serve themselves from the shining metal dishes and heated platters they held, Emery spoke up again, his voice carrying over those gathered.

"So, I asked Poppy but let me pose the question to you all: if you could choose any way to die, how would you want to go? Personally, I think I'd go with drowning. Probably ocean. I don't know. There's just something about the water that makes me feel like the end would be peaceful. Especially in the waves and the depths and the darkness of sea water..."

With a hissed groan, Christinith forced a strained smile to her face as she said, "I don't mean to be rude but this is a rather ghoulish game. Hardly appropriate for dinner."

Emery fixed her with a level look from across the table, finally asking, "I'm sorry. I don't believe we were properly introduced. Remind me of your name?"

"Christinith Juliet Cleary. I'm Lady Prudence's eldest sister. And this is my husband, Calvin Cleary--"

"Okay, well, Christine, if you don't like it, you don't have to play. It's a creative game where you have to use some imagination and I have a feeling you wouldn't be very good at it." Addressing the rest of the table, subtly dismissing any further opinions from the eldest Mayweather daughter, he said, "Anybody? How would you go?"

"If I could choose?" Joel asked pensively, having finished serving himself a plate of gorgeous fish with colorful yellow sauce. After a moment of indecision, he finally said, "Hanging."

Emery paused, actually surprised and respectful of the good sportsman attitude of the lawyer to play along but also furrowing his brow at his choice. "Have you ever been to a hanging?"

"No."

"Well, in real life, when you're strangled to death, it empties your bowels and bladder and you soil yourself."

Joel frowned and motioned at his own neck as he said, "I heard when you drop, the force breaks your neck."

"Only if you're lucky and they drop you violently enough. Either way, you still shit and piss your pants."

"I'm trying to eat," Christinith said.

Joel huffed defensively, waving a hand in a half-shrug. "Am I supposed to be embarrassed? I would be dead anyway."

"I'd go in battle. In a war," Calvin said.

Christinith's eyes shot wide, a curl of her bangs falling loose as she whipped her head to give him a wounded, confused look. Emery looked across, nodding in respect for that choice.

"It's honorable," Calvin further explained, motioning at the footman at his shoulder to pour him some red wine. "If I had to choose, I'd die for my country."

"Bullet or grenade?" Emery asked with a sadistic gleam.

Calvin thought about it, quirking his lips, finally answering as he lifted his wine glass to his lips, "Bullet. It just seems more courageous to suffer a bit. If you blow up, you're kinda gone quick. Feels too easy."

"Calvin!" Christinith's sharp exclamation cut through the air, drawing everyone's attention. Looking around, her hands shaking and stiff and her frown potent, she said, "I've had enough of this disgusting game! Please stop! I'm trying to enjoy this delicious meal that has been prepared for us and I don't want to hear about people shitting themselves or blowing up or horrible things!"

 

[incendonocturne]

-her eyes stared into his, unable to resist getting lost in the dark depths, unable or unwilling to resist. A curl had settled at the corners of her lips and despite the clear uncomfortableness of most of her family and their guest, the expression stayed. Not at their misery of course, though that did send a thrill through her as well, it was Emery’s presence that had her truly titillated so. Her gaze shifted momentarily at the bauble dangling from his ear, painting a curious stroke over the darkly colored skull. The ever present smile already tugging at her lips grew and twitched softly, showing her admiration and affection of it.

Her eyes shifted back directly upon him as his voice tickled against her ears and nestled deep within her. Her brows bounced lightly in answer to his question as to whether she would tempt him so. Rather than deliver a reply that he already knew the answer to, her head dipped softly, the right corner of her lips lifting higher.-

“A madness shared by two. It’s more fun that way, no?”

-she posed her own question teasingly, with a nod and a twinkle in her own dark orbs.-

“Oh...”

-the word purred from her lips, her hand unflinching beneath his but rather tingling with the warmth that coursed through her. Her gaze lingering as he adjusted the bejeweled arachnid back into its proper place. A soft shiver coursing along her spine as his finger traced over the back of her hand.-

“Mm, perhaps one eve.”

-she murmured quietly, her eyes rising to meet his. Her own thoughts running rampant with thoughts that, as her sister would proclaim, no true lady should have. His face, cast in flickering candle light and shadow as he hovered over her. The depthless dark of his eyes consuming her, before his lips did the same to the taut flesh of her throat, the hairs of his chin tickling and teasing over her tender, sensitive flesh as she cried out in erotic pleasure beneath him. The tightening of his shoulders as he ravaged her. The heady grunts and groans of his pleasure as they answered her own.

It wasn’t until she felt his fingers stroke against the jewels that rested against her chest that she came back, her eyes blinking softly as she glanced down, hiding the heavy swallow. What she could not hide from him however, was the heavy and desirous tap of her heart beneath his exploring fingers as they brushed against her skin. The husk of his voice helped matters none and threatened to pull her back into her own fantasies. Her corset becoming suddenly restrictive against her breast.

She forced her thoughts to the question he’d posed but before she could offer an answer, they would be ushered from the drawing room to the dining room. As he pulled her seat out for her, she offered him a beautiful and grateful smile. Fingers tickling longingly against the back of his hand before she slipped around to the front of the chair and swept her hands beneath the bustle of her skirts and settled into the chair with a polite ‘Thank you’ as she glanced back and up at him.

She watched the faceoff briefly, an amused smile tugging at her lips as she specifically watched Joel and his reaction. Adelaide’s presence beside her drew her attention away from her two suitors as the elder sister leaned to the side and nudged her with an elbow with a wide smile, casting her eyes past Prue, indicating Emery.-

”I like him, he’s handsome and seemingly perfect for you.”

-she whispered and nodded as she straightened in her chair, casting the barest glance over her shoulder as Joel approached, only to find her in the seat he’d hoped to win. Adelaide cast him a sweet smile before turning back to her sister and winking as she chose a dish and sent the footman onto her sister.

Prudence cast her sister a loving smile, the only one of her sisters that often didn’t try to change her and when she did it was gently. She too chose a dish, settling it before her. Her gaze shifting to Emery as he posed his question to the table at large, reminding her of the answer she’d had prepared.

As she was about to answer, Christinith spoke up. A roll of her eyes and a muttered ”Of course you do...”preceded Emery’s verbal spanking of her sister. One of which she made no attempt to stop nor hide the fact that she thoroughly enjoyed it as she cast a dark and amused gaze across the table at Christinith, her lips curling into a wide smirk before she turned her attention to Joel, curious to his answer.-

“You likely would be on some level, for if it didn’t break your neck, your brain would still be working, you would still feel the ghoulish mess you’ve made of yourself....but only until you stopped breathing. I’ve read it can take several long and consciously painful minutes to do so.”

-she breathed excitedly as she peered around Emery to level her gaze at Joel. Ignoring her sisters comment as her husband spoke up beside her. That indeed grabbed her attention. Aside from him speaking up so blatantly about the convent the previous day, she’d barely heard him utter a few words bolder than Christinith seemed to allow her darling henpecked husband.

Her brow drew towards her hairline as he offered his preferred way to go and she offered him a soft nod and smile despite her sisters admonishment of him.-

”Yes, Could we stop this non-sense, please? It’s bad dinner etiquette. Papa?”

-Ophelia’s chin and nose pointed regally into the air as she peered the length of the table to her father.Her voice much softer than Christinith’s but it held just as much conviction.-

”I agree, this is ridiculous. Please take control of this, Atticus, before it gets any further out of hand?”

-a prim hand rose and swept in the general direction of Emery and Prudence.-

”I’d want to go in my sleep. Quiet and peaceful. As an old woman. Having traveled around the world with my love. Having seen and done a plethora of new and exciting things with my husband.”

-Adelaide piped up, finishing with a soft clearing of her throat and a glance at Prudence and Emery just beyond her.-

“I’d like to go the way of the lovely Lucy Westerna....”

-Prue began, a brow lifting softly as her gaze bounced around the table. She knew most seated there knew whom she spoke of, since she’d oft times spoken of her before.-

“Drained of life, only to rise again, affording me the chance to see the misery my death caused amongst you all.”

-she paused, the faintest of smirks twitching against her lips as her traveling gaze slowly shifted to Christinith, her tongue dragging against her lips as she continued.-

“Her second death works just as well. Beheading. Quick but beautifully bloody and messy.”

 

[Jericho Z. Barrons]

It was easy enough to ignore the protesting of the peanut gallery, especially with people still offering answers. And without even needing to be introduced or know their names, Emery had it figured out, the dynamics of not only the room but Prudence's home life in general. Of course her father, earl Atticus Mayweather, was a big blowhard, stern and unyielding when it came to matters of lightheadedness or fun. Thinking back, he was glad he'd gone with his instinct not to call ahead, almost certain now that the earl would have broken the permission offered to him by his lovely Poppy, by side-stepping -politely, of course - and offering him next weekend instead.

Mr. Tinning, although desirous to do what he was here to do, was not totally invested in the dark young woman yet. In fact, Emery was fairly confident that he could have played this game a little more relaxed and less aggressive than he was and find Joel losing interest on his own. It seemed only that the duke was making him look bad that made Mr. Tinning so persistent in getting in the way, if only to get access to the girl. Oftentimes, as was the case here, ignorance made people yearn for what they were told to want but in actuality, one full, awkward conversation with Prue would likely turn him off irretrievably. Otherwise, he seemed open enough to engage in conversation and if he were honest, Emery rather liked him. Joel was alright.

It was excruciatingly easy to identify the main villainess in Prudence's life, the most outspoken of the women at the table other than Poppy herself: Christinith, the eldest Mayweather daughter. Through all her proper manners and superficial complaints, there was something spiteful and vindictive in Christinith's manner that made Emery's blood boil. She was everything he hated about women at court, snotty, egotistical, insecure, vapid, and cruel in the worst way. Not that Emery wasn't sadistic in his own way, often these women were his prey when he visited London once a fortnight - good for only two things: a sweaty night of dirty fucking, seducing them into giving up the honor they mewled and crowed so much about; and their blood, given freely to him while under thrall, their memories, already barely an inch thick as it was, easily swiped clean afterwards, letting them forget not only his predation but everything they'd become in the evening of perversion and deviance, thinking themselves virtuous and clean and beautiful when they went home to their regular lives. And everytime he saw them again at court, Emery laughed to remember, adding another layer of entertainment when he listened to these women talk about moral values and the "responsibilities" of society to uphold them through strength of character.

If Christinith were richer, she'd fit right in. He and Prue certainly had a love for all things horrifying and dark but he couldn't have a stronger aversion to the blackness in her heart if he tried. He secretly willed Christinith to choke on a fish bone as his preferred method for her dying, answering for her as she once again derided the game.

Mother and other sister too instantly presented as allies in the condescension and vilifying of his lovely dark maiden but both seemed to merely add their voices in support of the ugly eldest sister. The final sister surprised him by playing along, offering a very sweet answer, which Emery nodded in approval at. Calvin too seemed like a good fellow, despite being owned by the woman sitting beside him. And from the murderous looks she'd given him and the way she resisted his touch now, obviously in order to punish him, Emery guessed that he didn't normally speak out of turn. Score one for getting all the guys on board with a fun and interesting thought exercise.

When Poppy answered, Emery stilled to listen, stiffening and his expectant smile vanishing as she brought up Dracula once again, making the eerie comparison he had upon first sight of her. His dark eyes shone, held rapt to her as she playfully smirked, offering her ghoulish answer, his heart thundering in his chest like storms raging behind his rib cage. Did she know what she was saying? How could it get more perfect than that? It was just a game, he silently reminded himself, tuning out as Atticus brought the room to order in a gentle yet firm chiding tone for everyone to keep the topics out of the graveyard while the meal was enjoyed. And Riegler just stared, the entire world disappearing as he sat in awe of her, swallowing thickly as he restored the gentle curve of his adoring little grin. Even just as a game...the fact that she would say that was what she wanted... He felt a little more secure that someday when he offered it to her, she'd say "yes."

Blinking, reality came back in progressive waves, Emery pulling his rolled cloth napkin from beside his plate, removing the glittering silver cuff from it. Quickly, he gave Prudence's hand a playful pat with the napkin, hitting her ring with it.

"There it was again. Got it," he murmured in a light tone, smirking at her as he unrolled his napkin and draped it in his lap. "We'll have to clean your cobwebs, get all the nooks and cranies. Lest something creepy bite you. Only I'm allowed to do that." He clicked his teeth once at her, in gentle threat, his eyes smoldering as he looked upon her.

"Your Grace?" Atticus was saying from the head of the table. Apparently, he'd opened a new topic of discussion while the two lovebirds muttered their illicit secret conversation, and the earl had already spoken Emery's title to get his input.

His head whipping 'round in sudden diversion of his attention, Emery offered a glib, "Yes, dear?" as he raised expectant eyebrows at the earl.

Atticus paused, huffing awkwardly at that odd, intimate address, but quickly shrugged it off. "Uh, I was just asking if you've had a chance to go to the cinema as of late? Being such a cultured man of your high standing, I assumed you'd be up to speed on this latest, modern marvel."

"Indeed," Emery nodded, picking up his fish fork and motioning with it as he spoke. "I just saw Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Fascinating character study and incredibly dark but emotive, not gratuitous. James Cruze is mesmerizing in his performance of both sides, the man and the monster. Now that you bring it up, I was hoping to take Poppy to see it, next time I have to go to London. That is, if you wouldn't mind her absence for a week."

"No, not at all," the earl said in a strained obliging tone, offering a subtle apologetic inclination of his head towards Joel.

Emery had planned to say something else, possibly snarking off about how they'd already sent her away to a convent for a month and likely wouldn't notice her absence. But in the pause, he'd taken a bite of his fish, not noticing until it was in his mouth that the velouté sauce it was drenched in had garlic in it. Finishing the bite, swallowing it with some difficulty, Riegler tilted his head in mild discomfort, his expression tight as he reached for his glass of wine.

"Well, I don't think that's really appropriate," Christinith said mildly, eating her fish in dainty little bites. "A man your age, alone with my sister in London for a week? What would people say?"

Sniffing and clearing his throat after he had downed half his wineglass, Emery set it aside and wiped at his lips with his napkin, before addressing the ugly sister. "Well--Christine, was it?"

"Christinith," she politely corrected him.

He made a soft sound of assent with a nod as he continued, "Well, Christine, you could come along if you were worried leaving her without a chaperone in my presence. Seemed she did just fine on the trip to the nunery on her own--" Christinith huffed a humorless laugh over that, "--but if you come along, neither of us are going to watch The Little Girl Next Door or The Belle of New Orleans with you, so, I don't know. Seems we'd be spending much of the time apart from you anyway because I can only envision you walking out of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, being a little too complex and deep a subject matter for you to confront. Is there anyone else who could act in your stead, since apparently we live in 1810 and Elizabeth Bennett here can't be alone in a room with a man not her father?"

He missed Adelaide's hesitant hand raising because in the next instant, Christinith looked the picture perfect of smug entitlement, holding all his attention as an irritating threat. "I'm sorry, your Grace, but I don't think it would be appropriate for either of us to go anywhere with you. What with your reputation and all." Another tiny, flaky bit of fish was pulled from her fork into her mouth, her satisfaction and arrogance palpable.

"This isn't an appropriate subject either."

Emery grinned, ignoring Atticus's stern caution as he stared cold daggers at Christinith. "Oh? Please, do enlighten me. What exactly have you heard?"

She looked away first but not out of submission, more with an air of triumph, lifting her glass of white wine as she demurely said, "I think we should listen to my father. Indeed, this is not good dinner talk."

"You brought it up," Riegler waved a breezy hand in her direction, laying the blame at her feet as he pressed, "What do you think you know about me, Lady Cleary?"

Instead of taking the bait, Christinith smiled softly and said, "When last Calvin and I went to the city, we saw The New York Hat. It was so sweet and funny! Wasn't it, darling?"

"Yes, I rather enjoyed it," Calvin nodded, quick to make amends for his accidental betrayal earlier.

Realizing that he wasn't going to get an answer, Emery huffed under his breath, finishing his wine and allowing the footman to hurry to his side to refill it with the deep, red goodness. As he watched, conversation was quick to pick up, in that typical, delusional way of the upper class, everyone going on, pretending nothing untoward had happened. It rankled him almost as much as it amused him, his outburst and behavior shoved under the rug like he wasn't the most important and richest man currently occupying that house. Whatever. The one good thing was it allowed him to retreat back to talking in low whispers with his Poppy.

Unable to finish his meal without suffering discomfort from all the garlic in it, Emery leaned towards Prue and murmured, "If you did ever need another hasty escape, don't wait for me to invite you. Just say the word and I'll whisk you away. We'll be gone and back before they even notice. If we're lucky, they might even think we died."