The Vengeance of the Vampire Bride
Much to Csilla’s disgust, we sat in a parlor working on our embroidery. As a mortal, I hated learning the skill. I had considered it torture until Laura began to visit and it became a grand excuse to avoid the baroness and her wild parties. The beautiful woman’s constant ploys to endear herself aggravated me. Also, I have grown weary of her intruding on Laura’s visits. It was Laura’s idea to work on our embroidery together. As soon as Csilla announced she despised the craft, I embraced the task wholeheartedly. As a vampire I do find I am much better with the needle and thread. I am not certain why, but I find the task calms my nerves.
“I prefer the spring, but the fall does bring cooler weather.” I leaned over my embroidery hoop, stitching away just as my dear mother used to do.
The doors to the patio were cast open and a cool breeze freshened the room. Laura sighed with contentment. “This is true, but I love the richness of the green trees. Now the trees will go to sleep and be desolate until the spring.”
“Fall is pretty. It’s as if the world is aflame.” I adjusted the hoop attached to a stand. Laura had brought it as a gift for me when she realized I didn’t have one.
“Father says the farmers are warning of a bad winter.”
“I suppose farmers are adept at reading the signs of nature in that regard.” I lifted my head to see her staring out at the garden with sadness in her eyes. “What is it, Laura?”
“I just feel rather morose about the advent of fall. Every year when the cold comes it feels like it nests in my chest and I always have such terrible coughing fits. Also, it reminds me of when my brother died.”
“My sister May also had a delicate constitution. I always feared for her when she was sick during the winter months. I am so sorry about your brother, Laura. I know how terrible it is to lose a sibling.”
Laura was silent for a moment, then said, “Sebastyén was always sickly as well. Ever since he was a small child he suffered from breathing difficulties. The doctor said he would grow stronger as he grew older, but he never truly did. Yet, I never dreamed he would die. I still miss him terribly. Sometimes, I believe I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye as I walk through my home. But I turn to look and he’s not there.” Gazing up at me through her lashes, she pursed her lips nervously. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
I remembered the apparition of May appearing just before I had died and joined the ranks of the undead. She had been angelic and beautiful. “I believe so. I once saw May after she had died. She was at peace.”
Laura smiled slightly. “Was she? That is lovely. I wish I would see Sebastyén. My mother is always consulting with a fortuneteller in an attempt to make contact with him. She is desperate to speak to him from beyond the grave. Father despises the whole affair, but does not stop her. The fortuneteller is quite impressive and a little frightening, and he does not like her in the house, but my mother insists.”
“Does it give her solace?”
“If she could speak to Sebastyén, perhaps it would. If you could speak to your family, would you?”
I nodded adamantly. “Oh, yes. I would. I would want them to know I am doing well.”
“Perhaps they already do.” Laura gave me the sweetest smile as she lightly touched my hand. “Did I tell you that Percy came to call on my family several nights ago?”
“No, you did not. I did not realize he had returned from his travels.” My hand hesitated over my task. Percy traveled often and it had become his custom to visit me shortly after he returned. I was surprised he had visited Laura first.
“Mother was ecstatic. She is convinced he desires to court me.” She giggled with amusement. “How foolish is that?”
“Rather, I should think. He knows of your vow to remain a spinster.” I carefully executed my next stitch as I pondered Percy’s motivation behind his visit.
Her nimble fingers worked away, a small leaf taking form in delicate stitches. “He actually spoke very little to me, but spent quite a bit of time talking with my father about business. I think Percy shall make my father his solicitor. I did hear them both mention your husband.”
Tilting my head, I gazed past the flickering candles to the girl who reminded me so much of myself. Even though she slightly resembled my sister May, her spirit was similar to my own. I felt quite comfortable speaking with her and often had to watch my tongue. I often wished I could pour out the truth from my lips so she would truly understand me, but Astir’s warning kept me restrained.
I loathed being restrained.
“I wonder what they were speaking about.”
“I believe Percy may wish to hire father. I overheard them discussing how father has assisted your husband with his financial dealings.”
It seemed very plausible that Percy was seeking representation, but I felt a little leery. Hesitantly, I said, “That is most likely the truth. Perhaps Percy shall visit me soon.”
“He does admire you so. I overhead him telling father that you are a very strong woman.” Laura sighed wistfully. “I can only hope that someday people shall say the same of me.”
“Of course they will! You are a strong, intelligent young woman. Your only hindrance is the ignorance of those around us who demand that we fit into their ill-conceived notions of what men and women should and should not do! It’s all rubbish!” I waved my hand for emphasis, ripping the thread from the needle in my exuberance.
Laura giggled with delight, sounding very much like May, and leaned forward to whisper. “Our hostess has no fear of those rules, does she?”
I shook my head, smirking. “I dare say she does not.”
“Is it true that...” Laura drew in a breath and her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she touched my hand lightly. “Is it true she beds both men and women?”
I gasped and Laura shirked away. I was surprised that she should be so worldly. It had never occurred to me that women would lay with women until I had witnessed the affections Elina and Ariana shared in the castle. I was discomforted by the memory and this was reflected in my expression. Laura fastened her gaze on her embroidery and fell into silence.
“No, no, Laura, do not be ashamed. Your words startled me, that’s all.”
Her eyes did not waver from their attention on her elegant embroidery. “I just overhead mother saying I should not visit you because the baroness is a wanton woman who beds both men and women at her whim.”
“I have seen her seduce many a man to her bedchamber, but never a woman.” I shrugged slightly. “Not that it concerns me. She can do as she wishes.”
“I wish I could do as I desire with no concern of what others may say.”
Trimming away a few bits of thread and studying the rose I had just finished, I readily agreed with a bob of my head. “I wish the same.”
“Have you heard from your husband?”
A simple question, but it made me start. I quickly recovered, threading my needle with a new color of thread. “Yes, of course. He is very, very busy, but sent me his love.”
“I am sorry you do not love him,” she said after a pause.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you seem so very lonely. You are confined to the night by your sensitivity to the sunlight and spend far too much time with me on mundane pursuits such as embroidery.” Laura set her hands in her lap and regarded me with great sadness. “I cannot believe my wondrous personality keeps you entertained. Perhaps you should have an affair with Percy.”
I gasped, then burst out laughing. She blushed and lowered her face. “Oh, no, dearest Laura. Never. I have no interest in Percy in that regard.”
“Adem then?” Her eyes sparkled with interest.
“No, no, my darling one. Never!” I pressed one hand to my bosom. “I love someone that I cannot be with at this time.”
“Truly?” She sat forward, keenly interested. “Who is it?”
“I cannot say. But perhaps one day I shall be united with my love.”
“Oh, I am certain Vlad Dracula shall be here soon,” Csilla said from the doorway. Her face was flushed from wine and her dark eyes scrutinized us with interest. Clad in a rumpled red gown, she was a bit of a scandal with her tousled hair. “Still embroidering, I see. Such a dull pastime. I don’t know how you stand it.”
Laura peeked at the baroness through her eyelashes.
“I find it nice to sit and chat while making something beautiful,” I said at last.
“I’d rather sit and chat with something beautiful,” Csilla retorted. She strode across the parlor and her long, slim fingers lightly played with the curls around Laura’s face. “Such a lovely little thing. One day you shall make a man very happy.”
Laura did not draw away from Csilla, but did frown.
“Oh, come now. One day some delicious man shall come along and pry those delicate little thighs open.”
“Csilla!” I rose sharply, my hoop toppling over. “That is quite enough!”
“Yet, it is true.” Csilla slid away from Laura in my direction. “Or is it that she has captured your eye?” She glanced significantly at Laura’s throat, riling me considerably.