Larkspur
"Brey! Stop being such a lay-about!"
Aubrey opened one eye and scowled at his sister. "What's the bloody point of a picnic if I can't be insufferably lazy? You want to run around in this heat, by all means. I am staying right here to wallow in sloth."
"You!" Carmilla said, and kicked him lightly one last time before running off to play badminton with Elisabeth.
Soft chuckles from nearby stirred him just as he was slipping back into a light doze. "You are being awfully lazy today, Master."
Aubrey turned his head to look at Ruthven, who was determined to make him commit yet another sin, dressed only in breeches that fit far too well, a white lawn shirt barely laced, and a pale green collar embroidered with apples.
He closed his eyes again. "So says the man who kept me up all night."
"I did not hear any complaints," Ruthven said, more than a little smugness in his voice.
Aubrey did not give him the satisfaction of a reply.
Instead he simply listened to his sister and Elisabeth, the occasionally called advice or gentle taunt from his father, the more distant voices of Gilles, François, and Stregoni, who had wandered away to go fishing, of all things.
"Is there any wine left?" he asked.
"Could you be bothered to get it if there was?" Ruthven asked.
Aubrey would have rolled his eyes, but that required opening them. "It is entirely too hot to be impertinent."
"I rather like the heat."
"You're insufferable."
Ruthven laughed.
Aubrey yawned and rolled over onto his stomach, wishing the shade offered by the tree they were beneath were a bit more expansive. He cracked his eyes open to look at Ruthven, flushing when he realized Ruthven had been staring at him all the while. "What?"
"The sunlight suits you," Ruthven said. "Even if it does make you as lazy as a cat."
"Shut up," Aubrey muttered, and pointedly turned away to face the other way, watching Stregoni, François, and Gilles at the pond a little distance away. It looked as though they had about as much interest in fishing as he did in moving.
Snorting, he turned to face Ruthven again. "I might be as lazy as a cat," he said, "but you looked like you helped yourself to the mistress's canaries."
"Merely enjoying the view."
"Brat," Aubrey said, and closed his eyes again, too hot and sleepy to muster the energy for a sharper retort.
The sound of a footman's voice did stir him, though, and he dragged himself to a sitting position as he watched the footman talk to his father.
A moment later, Sangre beckoned to him.
As he drew close, he realized that Carmilla looked too excited to contain herself.
"What is it?" he asked.
Sangre looked at Ruthven, who stared blandly back. "It would seem a sudden guest has arrived, claiming to be a friend of a certain Pet on the premises."
"Hmm," Ruthven said idly. "I did not expect Varney for a couple of days yet."
"Liar," Aubrey muttered beneath his breath, but was given no chance to say anything further as a man drew close, escorted by another footman.
No way, Aubrey decided, sharing a look with his father. No way in hell was the man before them taking Carmilla anywhere—least of all out of their sight.
He had long blond hair, pale enough it was almost white, neatly pulled back by a red silk ribbon. His waistcoat was also red, entirely too bright and flashy for Aubrey's taste. His eyes were a pale blue, almost more gray, really. He was also more than a little bit handsome—pretty, in fact—and at least as tall as Ruthven.
Carmilla, he decided, was staring inappropriately. None too gently tugging his sister back, Aubrey stepped forward. "You are Ruthven's friend?"
"Yes," the man said, smiling in a way that showed he did, indeed, have fangs. "My name is Varney. It is an honor to meet all of you." He swept into a deep bow, then glanced up at Carmilla, holding out his hand. "I believe you are the fair princess I have been asked to show the world?"
Carmilla put her hand in his, cheeks going pink when he kissed her knuckles.
"Unhand my daughter at once," Sangre said sharply.
"Oh, Papa," Carmilla said with a sigh. "Do not start growling."
"I will growl all I like," Sangre said.
Carmilla exchanged a look with Elisabeth, who placed a placating hand on his arm. "Beloved, it's far too lovely a day to start picking fights." She looked at Varney. "You were, I believe, to bring a proper chaperone for Carmilla?"
"Yes, my lady," Varney replied. "Lady Bannerworth follows in a carriage and should be arriving within the hour. I have been her Pet for twenty years. A very sweet woman, and you will be happy to know she relishes putting me in my place. Alas, she is far too good at it." He smiled, making Carmilla and Elisabeth laugh.
Aubrey shared another look with his father and Gilles as he, Stregoni, and François joined them.
Before they could start in on Varney, however, Elisabeth clapped her hands briskly. "Well, then, I say we all sit down and get to know one another in civilized fashion. Shall we return to the house, my love, or continue to enjoy the fine weather?"
"No reason to abandon our fine picnic," Sangre said, and gave her his arm to lead her back to the blanket, though he did not completely stop glaring at Varney.
Who offered his arm to Carmilla.
Aubrey ignored the amused looks Ruthven was shooting him and led the way back to the three and the large blanket upon which he'd been so recently napping.
From the warning glint in Carmilla's eye, he suspected they were going to lose the battle to keep her from going off with Varney and this supposed chaperone who was on her way—but they could have fun trying, and making certain he was fit to take away his sister.
"Aren't you sitting just a little too close?" Gilles demanded, glaring at Carmilla, who had chosen to sit next to her potential guide.
"No," Carmilla said airily. "No worse than you three at the fishing hole."
"That was entirely different," Gilles snapped. Beside him, François rolled his eyes.
Stregoni laughed and dragged the picnic basket close, coming up with a bottle of wine, which he quickly decanted, passing the glasses around until everyone had one. "Come now, it's bad for the health to bicker this early in the day. Just look at what it did to poor Aubrey—he cannot even stay awake."
Aubrey rolled his eyes but obediently lifted his glass as Stregoni did.
"To new friends," Stregoni said, elbowing Gilles to raise his own glass. "And best wishes to Carmilla, when she leaves on her travels."
"She's not going with him," said Aubrey, in unison with his father and Gilles.
"Are they always like this?" Varney asked, amused.
"Always," said Carmilla, in unison with Elisabeth, Ruthven, François, and Stregoni.
Aubrey rolled his eyes, but laughed along with everyone else.