Dark Desperation, part 1

This is try 4 at a short story/book that I've been attempting to write for some time now. Please feel free to read it and let me know what you think. I'm poor, so couldn't post the whole thing on Dark Poetry.com...

Music swirled around her, thumped through the floor and into the soles of her shoes as she walked through the darkened club. It was deafening, what with the blare of techno mix and the constant yelling chatter going on around her. Her head had started to throb an hour earlier, and this was not helping. Yet, here she was - and she wondered, not for the first time, why she’d chosen to come yet again.

Saturday night and the feeling, apparently, was all right - at least for most everyone else. Wending her way through the crowd, she felt each individual emotion bleeding off the people around her: elation, lust, happiness and… yes, even despair. She glanced over to one of those whose signature bore that of acceptance tinged with desperation and despair.

He was not young-looking, nor was he all that remarkable to look at. He had dark hair, pale skin, and sat slumped in the corner between two couples, his head firmly down. He attempted to keep himself from touching anyone else, but was failing miserably as the two couples enthusiastically glommed onto one another with hedonistic glee. They pushed into him, over him, around him, and at some points it seemed, through him.

She cocked an eyebrow… Perhaps… Perhaps this was the one for tonight. But - not yet. Business first, then pleasure. She mentally noted down where he was and, as she passed by him, she gently trailed a finger against the back of his neck. She felt him stiffen up, and then relax against her gloved finger. Interestingly, she didn’t feel the backwash of emotion that she was prepared for. She smiled, and continued on.

Moving to the dining area of the bar, she sat down at a back booth and ordered a sparkling water. As the waitress retreated, a slight movement in the seat across from her caught her eye, and Jasper sat back and grinned at her.

“Theatrics aren’t necessary anymore, you know,” she said in quiet admonishment.

“Yeah, well - I like theatrics, so suck it.” He grinned at her and winked.

“So typical, Jasper. Let’s get down to business - I have things I’d like to be doing.”

“Don’t you mean that there’s some ONE you’d like to be doing?” Jasper wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She sighed. “What is it that you want, Jasper.” She leaned back to allow the waitress access to the table, then leaned forward again. “Is it about the case?”

“Well, of course it’s about the case. Hendricks isn’t patient, and he wants answers. He’s threatened to go to someone else if you don’t end up giving him some new leads.”

“These things take time. I can’t just spit out information like a computer.” She flopped back in the booth and took a long drink, wishing it had alcohol in it. Alcohol numbed things, made it easier to deal with…

“Alcohol won’t help you this time, Lore.” Jasper reached over quietly to take her hand. “You know this has to be settled, once and for all. The killings can’t go on.”

She let him hold her hand for a few moments, allowing the touch to sooth her. Unlike others, he did not trigger anything - she was safe. Even through her gloves, she could occasionally pick up images from others, but not Jasper - he no longer transmitted such visions and emotions.

Abruptly, she tore her hand from his and scowled at him. This was why things had never been meant to be between the two of them - he brought out both the best and the worst of her - normally all at the same time.

“Tell Hendricks I’ll be in tomorrow morning to see what else I can find. Let him know I’ll need to see the latest crime scene, though. I have to go back through and walk it. Otherwise, I won’t be able to see everything.”

Jasper grinned at her, then grabbed her hand back into his, kissing the back. “I knew we could count on you, babe. I’ll catch you tomorrow night, ok? We can head over to the site together.”

Just as quickly as he had appeared, Jasper was gone again. Lorelai finished her drink quietly, then went back to the dance hall and found her mark. This time he’d extracted himself from the corner, and was waiting at the edge of the dance floor, searching the crowd. She smiled and walked toward him until he was just in front of her, his back to her. She gently touched a finger to the back of his neck again, and watched as his body straightened even further, and then whipped around to look down at her.

He was tall, over six feet, and his short hair had a slight wave to it. He looked down at her, and his eyes widened as he looked at her for the first time, completely. He saw full hips, a belly, and a pair of breasts that made him want to suckle them forever. Her long, red hair made his hands itch to stroke it and bury his fingers completely into their waves. There was just something that labeled her different and fascinating and he found himself unable to stop the fantasies from running rampant.

Lorelai was no beauty, she knew that. Short and fat was not the norm for cultural beauty, but she could tell he couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and couldn’t help but want to follow her. She inhaled as she leaned near him, and found she could smell him just slightly, a woodsy/musky/man smell that was intriguing. She turned to leave and he followed like a dog eager to please her.

They walked out into the damp city air, heavy with summer humidity. Her thighs chaffed in the heat, and she couldn’t wait to get her clothes off and go swimming. She walked to her car, and turned to face him.

“You don’t have to go with me, you know,” she said quietly. “I would understand if you needed to be somewhere else.”

He blinked. “No - I… want to be here - with you. I don’t know why, but I do. I don’t even care what it is we do.” He looked away, then looked back at her with an almost feral intensity. His eyes seemed to glow in the dim light and held her captive for a moment. She stopped to catch her breath and then remembered who was in charge.

She smiled. “Get in, then,” and popped the passenger door lock for him.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Fenric could smell her. The close confines of the vehicle did nothing to hide the scent of amber, and under it the smell of female. Her cream-colored skin made him want to lick and kiss her everywhere, and he was fairly sure he had the largest hard-on in the entire history of… well, history. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he yet again drew in a breath laced with amber/musk/woman. He really wished she would have lived closer, so he could have just thrown her over the back of a couch and fucked her madly until he collapsed on top of her, drained of energy. He had no idea who she was, no clue why she would have singled him out, but he did know a serendipitous moment when he found one.

He looked at her from out of the corner of his eye. She was concentrating on the road, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. She seemed to be oblivious to his company - but the waves of sexual anticipation floating off her were almost tangible. She not only knew he was there, she was just as highly charged as he was… She was just as desperate for him, too. That just made him hotter - he wanted her to want him badly - wanted to be able to be the animal, and take as much as he could give to her and more. He felt his balls tighten again, and sucked in a breath to try and steady himself.

Lore wasn’t concentrating as well as she’d like to have been. The man next to her was so… Male. Animal. He overpowered her senses and made it difficult to focus on anything other than crawling onto his lap and grinding her pelvis down onto the large lump she saw growing in his pants. She breathed in, only to find herself melting into the scent of cedar and male once again. She found herself moving her thighs restlessly against one another, trying somehow to relieve the pressure building up. It made it worse, so she forced herself to stop.

At last, she pulled into the driveway of the house, and parked in the garage. Closing the door, she let the overhead light come on before she got out so she could steady her nerves. She looked over to find him staring at her again, and swallowed again. Perhaps, she thought, she was a bit over her head this time…

Fenric reached out to stroke her cheek gently, noting her flaring nostrils. She wanted him, he could tell, and she was ripe for the plucking. He leaned gently forward, the seat leather under him creaking slightly as his weight shifted. She tried to move back, but his hand pulled her back toward him, his lips settling onto hers. She let out a slight sigh, and then pressed herself firmly into him, her hands roving gently over his shoulders.

She felt both stupidly drunk and electrifyingly awake all at the same time. For some reason, she wasn’t scared or anything - it just felt right to try and sink completely into him. She moved further toward him, and was immediately thwarted by the center console. She pulled back, glaring at the offending car part, only to hear him chuckle softly.

“Come on, love,” he said gently, “I’m sure there’s plenty of space inside - if you’re willing to take the chance?” He smiled at her.

Lorelai blinked a few times - she hadn’t expected the soft brogue. Opening the door of the car, she headed toward the house as quickly as possible, already starting to shed clothes. This was no longer a fun jaunt in the park, but a full-on hunt for as much satisfaction as possible. Somehow, she knew, he was going to be worth whatever regrets she might have in the morning - and right now, she just didn’t care.

Fenric followed quickly behind her, pulling off his jacket and shirt. Following her trail of clothing and leaving one of his own, he wended his way through the house to a central patio area that had a sunken pool. He caught a glimpse of her as she walked through the glass door and stepped into the water. The air was suddenly very difficult to breath. She looked like a fertility goddess brought to life, all curves and soft places. She looked up with a knowing smile on her face, and beckoned for him to join her.

He tugged off shoes and socks, then dropped his jeans just outside the sliding door. Walking into the pool area, he noted that it was soothingly lit, and that it was only covered in netting to keep the pool clean. She was sitting on the steps, waiting for him to come toward her. As he placed one foot into the water, she suddenly shot away from him into the deeper area of the pool, and idly swam in the middle of it.

He grinned - he knew this game. It was hunt and chase, and he was a master. He leapt out into the water and swam quickly to her side, then wrapped his arms around her. He made a low growling sound in the back of his throat and nuzzled her throat with his nose. She leaned her head back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and allowing him further access to her. He drew in her scent while circling her face, his hands cupping her ass and pressing her close to him. She couldn’t reach the bottom of the pool, but he was just tall enough to, and it gave him leverage - leverage he used to make sure she didn’t break away from him.

He bit her shoulder and, as she gasped for breath, he growled again. She leaned into him, welcoming the feel of his teeth and hot breath on her skin. Liquid fire bolted through his veins as he felt her give in to him. His fingers threaded their way through the hair at the nape of her neck and he pulled her head back to look at her face, eyes drowsy with desire. Her mouth was slightly open, and he could see her teeth peeking through her lips as she blinked at him slowly. He kissed her hard, bruising her lips with both their teeth, and then moved her over to the edge of the pool.

He was more muscled than she’d first anticipated, and his eyes seemed to glow with a yellow cast to them. She didn’t care at that point about anything but having more of him… She couldn’t get close enough to please her own desires, wanting to simply slip inside his skin and stay there. He pushed her up onto the pool deck and spread her legs wide, then pushed her back, forcing her to lay on the floor. She sat straight back up when she felt his tongue touch her clit - and was forced immediately back down with a fierce-sounding bark and a push of his hand.

He could feel her heartbeat under his hand as he held her down and slowly, carefully tongued his way in and out of her vagina and outer lips. He could taste the pool water, could smell her sex, and her need for him was almost tangible. She continued to moan, making him crazy as he tried to hold on to some sort of control and give her pleasure before letting the beast take over. He could already feel his nails growing longer, and his balls were bursting with the need to bury himself deep within her right now. He had to make sure she was ready for him, was desperate, wet, and begging…

She gasped as he thrust his tongue deep inside her, then started sucking and flicking on her clit, pressing down on her belly at the same time. She writhed beneath him, wanting his cock to be deep inside of her at the same time - knowing it was an impossibility and yet needing it all at the same time. She whimpered, then cried out as she reached orgasm quickly, flooding his mouth with cum, and then reaching yet another peak and squirting some more.

He groaned, and knew he had to have her right then. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her down onto his cock, pushing deep inside of her as he wrapped his arms around her. He braced her against the wall of the pool and started thrusting. She gasped as he filled her completely, then threw her head back and yelled as he started fucking her hard into the pool wall. Her nails bit into his back and shoulders, and he bit her hard and growled at her.

“Oh god, YES! Fuck me!” she howled, clutching at him. “Fuck yes!”

He growled again, and abruptly stopped moving and nuzzled her ear. “My name - it’s Fenric - say it. Say it, dammit!”

“Fenric! Fuck me, please,” she cried out, practically sobbing for him to continue, to make her come over and over again.

He grunted, then nibbled her ear and caressed her face as he slowly withdrew from her. She collapsed into his arms, unable to move, yet desperate for more. He carried her from the pool and into the house.

“Which way to your room, love?” His soft dark brogue sent chills down her spine and made her tremble.

“Left, down the hallway, last room.” She nuzzled his neck and bit his earlobe softly, making him groan in a desperate attempt to keep control.

“God, love - what you do to me,” he muttered into her hair, and moaned as she pinched his nipples, then suckled on them. “GOD!”

Then he heard her giggle…

He threw open the door and tossed her onto the large bed in the center of the room, then slammed the door shut with a foot. Fenric strode over and flipped her onto her belly, pulling her by her hair to her knees, her ass high in the air. He smelled her sex again, and licked it softly, then buried himself into her once again.

He rode her hard this time, scraping her back, smacking her thighs and ass with open palms, and pulling her hair to bring her harder into him. She screamed like a feral cat, arching her back and twisting further into him, desperate to take him completely. He could feel himself turning completely at that point, his balls tightening up to come hard deep within her. Her pussy was hot and wet, pulsing around him repeatedly.

He finally couldn’t hold off any longer. He pulled her up toward him, pushed one final time, and came inside her while growling and whimpering all at the same time. He slowly pushed her away from him, gently laying her onto the bed, and then laying down himself, exhausted and panting, desperate for air, for water, for rest… He looked over at her prone form, and found that he was desperate for her yet again. He groaned inwardly. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought.

She lay there, panting and sweaty, wanting to feel him inside her yet again. She couldn’t open her eyes, she was so tired - and yet, she felt like running 15 miles… She smiled softly, sighed, and then her eyes opened and fixed on Fenric. She blinked several times to try and get hair out of her eyes, only to find that it wasn’t hair in her eyes that made him look fuzzy. He was fuzzy; very, very fuzzy. In fact, one could consider him to have grown a fairly full coat of hair in the space of a few hours. She frowned in mild confusion, and his golden eyes met hers. She looked down at his clawed hands, and it all clicked.

“You’re a - a -”

“A wolf. Yes, love. I am that, and more. You aren’t frightened,” he asked, hoping yet hating to hear the answer he always got.

“No. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d had sex with something other than human. I only wish I’d known it before.” She watched his eyes dim with guilt. “That isn’t what I meant - I mean, I knew that you were different, I just couldn’t put my finger on exactly how.”

He had the grace to blush a bit under his fur, and looked embarrassed. “It’s not exactly something that I tell everyone I meet. It tends to be a bit of a mood killer, really.”

“And the two couples who were with you? Are they also wolves?”

“No… They are friends of mine. They thought it would be fun to take me out for an evening, get me drunk, and hope I got lucky.”

She giggled nervously. “Little did they know.”

“Well, I can say that even if I’d had a few pints, I was completely sober when you invited me home with you.” He looked at her seriously. “This isn’t something that I do lightly.”

She glanced at the clock - 3:12am - they’d been having sex for the last two hours, and she realized she wasn’t tired at all.

“Love,” he said quietly, “I would like to know at least one thing before we go further with anything.”

Warily she eyed him.

“Your name, love. I never found out your name.”

“Oh! My name,” she said, drawing in a shaky breath. “It’s Lorelai. Lorelai Cabot. And you’re Fenric… Fenric?”

“Fenric Halloran, at your service, love - but I think, under the circumstances, you can call me Fen.” His eyes had dimmed their golden hue, and his hands were looking more human the longer they talked.


* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Lorelai jolted awake to the sound of her phone going off in her ear. Groping for the offending item, she blearily opened her eyes and focused on the clock next to her bed. 6:37, she thought? Was that a.m.?! Oh god. Someone had better either be dead or have the largest emergency ever written to call that early in the morning.

“Hrmmph,” she muttered, feeling a heavy hand lay onto her hip. “Cabot. What’s going on?”

“Cabot, it’s Hendricks. We got another one. I need you down here now, while it’s still fresh.”

“Jesus, Hendricks. It’s 6:37 in the fucking morning.” She ran her fingers through her hair and tuned out Hendricks’ rant of responsibility to the badge. She knew better than most the responsibility to it. It ruled her damned life - had been since she was born.

“Yeah, ok! I got it. I’ll be down in an hour. Give me time to shower, all right?”

“Just get down here, Cabot.” She heard the weariness in his voice, and suddenly felt guilty as hell for being snappish.

Clicking off the cell, she pushed the covers off and started to shuffle off to the bathroom. Turning to grab a towel from the hallway cabinet, she met calm brown eyes staring down at her and almost yelped. She’d forgotten Fen was here.

“Going somewhere?” Fen tamped fiercely down on a sudden jealous burst that she had another male calling her this early in the morning.

“My boss - My job just called me in. I- I have to catch a quick shower and then head into town. I can give you a lift, if you’d like.”

Fen’s eyes flickered, then he grinned. “Tell you what. You head out to your job, and call me about an hour before you’re due home. I’ll whip you up a grand meal. I’m sure you’ll need one.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m too tired to argue right now.”

After a hot shower and a light stretch, Lore felt more alive. Coming out of the bedroom, she smelled coffee, toast and bacon beckoning her to the kitchen. Coming around the corner, she found Fen, softly humming, spatula in one hand, and a smile on his lips. He looked up to see her and grinned.

“I found us some breakfast, love, if you need it before you go. I can even make it to go, if you like.”

“Are you normally so chipper in the morning? Or is it just after having an amazing round of beast-fucking?” She tried to glower at him, but found it nearly impossible to do so - especially after he stuck a cup of coffee under her nose and fed her a slice of perfectly cooked bacon.

“I wouldn’t know - I hadn’t had an amazing round of beast-fucking before.” He grinned at her look of undisguised shock. “Well, I’ve had sex before, but never on that scale, love. That’s new - and somehow, I think it all has to do with you.”

Lorelai sipped her coffee rather than say anything. Truth to tell, she was dumbfounded by Fen’s statement. She wasn’t beautiful, wasn’t interesting… He must have just been hard-up. That’s all, that’s it. Once she settled that in her head, she felt a little better, and then looked at the clock.

“Crap! I have to go. I’ll call the house phone when I’m on my way back. Make yourself at home, no ordering pay-per-view, and no loud parties.” She headed out the door to the garage and found her way blocked by a large arm.

“That’s all, is it? I’d like a kiss goodbye, love.” His lips descended and her brain turned to mush. He nibbled on the sides of her mouth, his hands caressing her back and up into her hair. She moaned softly, then pulled gently away.

“I really do have to go. It’s urgent.”

“Then go. I’ll see you when you get home. What is this job, then?”

“I’m a detective.” And with that, Lorelai headed out the door and into a miserably humid, gray day.

Driving down Sunset Highway, she dialed Hendricks back on her Bluetooth, but her brain was still back at home. When he answered, she forcibly wrenched her attention back to the present, and the issue at hand.

“What do we have, Captain?”

“We have another one. She’s hung just like the last four. No witnesses, no ID, no nothin’.” She could hear the frustration in his voice as he sighed.

“Where am I headed, boss?”

She was given the address to a warehouse out in the NW area of Portland, just at the edge of the posh Pearl District, near the industrial areas. The area had been purchased and upgraded by a bunch of yuppies with too much money and time on their hands for anyone’s own good. They’d turned an area once known for ten-minute tricks and heroin shooters into posh boutiques, French bistros and high-priced condos and townhouses. Lorelai snorted derisively. She wasn’t sure which was worse - before the change, or after.

Turning down 23rd Avenue, she drove down the main thoroughfare of the Pearl, its stores barely waking up at 7am on a Sunday morning, if they were to open at all. Traffic was light, and she made it down past the last of the fancy-shmancy and into the edge of Industrial Way. It had become trendy to purchase and turn warehouses into large, open-floored studios, selling for upwards of $350,000 a pop. And now, one of them was going to need a serious deep clean once the homicide crew was done with things.

She parked along the side of the building, flashing her badge to get a prime spot. Getting out, she noted that even at this early hour, police lights still got a tidy group of gawkers to join the ranks of those awake and here. Rolling her eyes, she threaded her way through them and tucked under the crime scene tape. She saw Hendricks as he came out, ashen-faced and not looking good at all. She knew this had been particularly hard on him, as he had a teenaged daughter of his own.

“Look, Paul, if you don’t have to be here, then don’t be here.”

“No, I do have to be here, Cabot. It’s my responsibility. I need to catch this guy, and we need to do it soon - he’s escalating. And the Feds are coming in by Friday to look everything over and start from scratch.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “The fuckin’ Feds, Cabot. Throw me a bone here, eh? Please - get me something this time. I don’t know how you do it, I don’t want to know how you do it - and frankly, I don’t care. Just get me something to nail this son-of-a-bitch once and for all.”

Lorelai nodded, patting his back. “I’ll do what I can. Get everyone out of there as soon as possible, and let me know when they’re out. I’ll go in at that point.”

She went over to a nearby bench where coffee and donuts had been placed for the crew, and sat down. This was the tedious part. She could feel the waves of emotion coming out of the building, and wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of going through this yet again. Her lips twisted as she remembered the last time she was called out for this - the panic attacks had been spectacular.

At last, the last of Forensics trailed out, boxes of samples in tow, and she was waved over by a weary-looking Paul.

“Did you need to have someone stick around to help drive you back afterwards? Might be a good idea, considering last time…” He trailed off, looking at her as she swallowed and squared her shoulders.

“Yeah. Have Tucker stick around if she’s still here. I can call her a cab if it’s necessary.”

“OK, Cabot. Be careful. I’d like to see a report on my desk by the end of the day today - tomorrow at the latest.” Hendricks patted her on the shoulder and headed toward a petite blond in uniform to speak with her.

And I’m on, she thought. Lorelai walked toward the building and saw that there was almost a corridor being created by the techs and officers still left at the scene. Most of them knew her peripherally, and a few didn’t believe that she could do a damned thing to help the case that they hadn’t already had a hand in. A few faces held contempt, but most were hopeful, and a few were just bleak with despair. Reaching the door, she squared her shoulders and took out a can of Mentholated rub. Tucking a few wipes under her nose, she sighed again, and then walked into hell.

Chapter 2...

I haven't heard anything regarding the beginning of this story - then again, I haven't heard anything BAD about the story, so that's good - I guess... LOL. So, here's chapter 2.

Chapter 2

“My darling gel, I’m so glad you came,” Sophie’s cheeks were blooming red and her eyes sparkled happiness in their faded blue depths. “I was afraid that perhaps you wouldn’t, considering what you went through…” Her voice faded, and she glanced sorrowfully at Emily.

“Aunt, it’s not your fault that it happened, and I have refused to dwell on it overmuch. I came because I adore you, and I wanted to make sure that you were well and comfortable.” Emily smiled at her aunt and took a hand in hers, feeling the papery dryness of old skin beneath her youthful fingers.

“I could have sent for you early on, made sure that you weren’t exposed to your father’s distasteful habits – or his friends. I should have.” She nodded decisively to herself, obviously upset with her lack of action in the past. “There was so much I could have done. Your mother, rest her soul, would have wanted you to have a season, a coming out – she would have wanted you to be with me… But I simply didn’t realize how awful it was going to be –”

“Sophie, dearest – please do not overset yourself. It is done, and we must not contemplate what could have or should have happened. We must simply enjoy what we have now, and look to the future.” She smiled down at her aunt, then got up and walked around the bed to the settee.

“My dear Emily, even you know that there’s not much future here for me,” Sophie said, amusement in her face. Emily turned to look at her and started to protest, but Sophie shushed her and waived a hand. “Oh please, Em! Don’t lie to an old woman. I know I’m dying, and I’m at peace with it. I’ve had a full life, and have done most of what I wanted, even though it wasn’t always what I should have done. It suits me that I’m to pass now – and that you’re here with me to make the end of it less boring.”

“Well, then – while we’re making things less boring, Aunt, would you like some more tea?” A chuckle laced Emily’s voice, and she poured a cup for herself. Turning, she saw her aunt’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, then open slowly.

“Yes, I think tea would be nice. And then a nap… I seem to be a bit sleepy.” Sophie’s voice was soft and muted, and she sighed. “I seem to be a bit sleepy most days, honestly.”

Emily brought over the cups for both of them, and sat. “Would you like for me to read to you, Aunt?”

“That would be lovely.”

Anthony found the both of them sleeping a few hours later, Sophie propped up in her bed and snoring softly, and Emily curled up on the end of the bed, a book propped open in her hand. Apparently, poems of Byron and Shelley had caused a sudden attack of napping.

Gently touching her shoulder, he smiled as Emily sighed and rolled over, a confused, then guarded look on her face as she focused on his face. She put the book down, rubbed her eyes of sleep, then got up and patted her hair.

“My lord, I am sorry – I fear that I lost track of time and needed a nap.”

“It is quite alright, Miss Campbell. I came to let you know that dinner will be served in an hour or so, and the vicar’s wife, Mrs. Whitloe, will be there for you to meet. You will be joining us, I hope?”

Emily quietly moved away from her aunt, making sure not to touch any part of Anthony. She felt suddenly closed in, hemmed in a way, and he was much too large for the room, and much too close to her. He backed away from her and allowed her passage toward the door to her suite of rooms. She stopped just short of turning the handle and turned, her head bowed.

“I will be – happy to join Mrs. Whitloe and yourself this evening for dinner. I shall be down shortly.” She glanced up and saw that Anthony’s face was unreadable, then she quickly turned the handle and was gone as quickly as a summer breeze. Anthony’s jaw tightened, then relaxed just as quickly. There was plenty of time – no need to rush things.

An hour later found two rather somber faces sitting around a table with a third that couldn’t stop laughing. Mrs. Whitloe was a cheerful woman filled with laughter and joy for the world at large; and she felt no need to contain herself and not spread the joy to others. She happily chattered for both Emily and Anthony, and filled the two in on the local gossip around the town of Bramblebriar.

Having no occupation to keep her mind from wandering, other than to listen to the daily goings-on of the village, Emily found herself scanning the dining room, seeing the familiar shapes of family heirlooms and new statuary which must have been added by his lordship once he took over the properties. She was pondering a china shepherdess when a comment broke through her reverie and startled her.

“I say, Miss Campbell, you must have been off wool-gathering, I’m afraid.” Mrs. Whitloe chortled. “I asked if there is a young man that might be coming by to visit you from Devon?”

“No, Mrs. Whitloe. I have no young man. I am not in the market for marriage.”

“But why not, my dear? You are young, and handsome enough to catch a score of young beaux should you like it.”

“That is the issue there, Mrs. Whitloe – I don’t like it. Besides, one must have a dowry to have a marriage proposal. I do not possess such an illustrious thing as that. Pretty I may be, but as I am not matched with any other descriptive than that of poor, I feel certain that there will not be vast quantities of marriageable bachelors pounding at my door for me.” Emily glanced over at Anthony to find his eyes dark and angry, almost brooding, at this comment. Startled, she looked down and concentrated completely upon her soup.

“Well, be that as it may, young lady, there are quite a few young men out there with a decent income who would be more than willing to take a lovely young woman such as yourself to wed. You simply need to be seen.” Mrs. Whitloe’s eyes lit up. “We are having a harvest party next week! And as Lord Emberton has graciously allowed us the use of the hall, you have no reason but to come and join in the fun! Do help me coax her to join us at the party, my Lord.”

“Indeed Miss Campbell – it is normally one of the high points of our little town season. You must join us – if only to give your Aunt Sophie stories and descriptions of what everyone wore.” Anthony was rewarded with a small smile and a wistful expression on Emily’s face as she imagined what her aunt would think.

“All right. I suppose I have a serviceable gown I can use for the party.” She smiled again and looked at Mrs. Whitloe. “I may have to impose upon my and you regarding it, to make sure that it’s workable.”

“Of course, my dear,” Mrs. Whitloe chuckled, “Anything to help you out, lovey. I’m certain we shall have you the belle of the ball soon enough.”

Dinner continued with little further conversation besides decoration and general hospitality, until Mrs. Whitloe commented “Of course, it was different with the old Earl living here.”

All movement stopped from Emily, and Anthony stared hard at the older woman, who was oblivious to either of them.

“He couldn’t have given a jot for the town or those living in it – only thought of himself and his pleasures… Ahhh… It was a horrible time to be living in town then, and I can’t imagine being a servant up here.” She glanced over at Emily and, seeing her rapt attention, mistakenly took it for interest. “Since you’re from Devon dear, I doubt you heard of what happened here five years ago. I had lived here for a good ten years, after having married Mr. Whitloe, and we very near starved a few years because the crops weren’t being tended properly. His Lordship wasn’t interested in husbandry. Oh no, he was interested instead in gambling away his father’s fortune.

“Hadn’t always been this way, you know. He’d met a lovely young woman when he was very young and they were quickly married. Rumors are that she was in the family way when they said their vows, but everyone quashed the idea. He was in love, in either case, so it wasn’t anything anyone gossiped about for too long. His lady, Eleanor, what a lovely young thing – she kept his feet on the ground. It was said that she balanced his unruly side, and he gave her a beautiful baby girl… Goodness, it must have been, oh, twenty-five years since.

“It was a happy family that lived here. They visited the village weekly, took care of the people there, and it was generally thought that the town had never been so prosperous. As my dear husband would say, the worst always comes at the best of times…

“Eleanor took sick when her babe was aught but seven. No one knew that it could be contagious – until the little girl got sick with it as well. Smallpox ravaged them both and scarred the chit on her chest, and took her dear mum away from the both of them. It attacked the village as well, and we lost quite a number of people. It was a difficult time, and when the village looked to his lordship for support, there was none to be had. He’d gone round the bend with grief, and even the sight of his daughter, precious though she was, couldn’t console him. His heard had died, and there are those in the village who say his sanity died with him.”

Mrs. Whitloe warmed to her story then. “He started having parties at his house with the lords and ladies from London. At first, all seemed normal, though the parties did include some of the lesser desired people from town. The village was hopeful that this was a sign that His Lordship was feeling better, coming to grips with his loss – and yet… The windows were never uncovered, and the house was permanently darkened inside. It seemed that no one ever saw either his daughter or him, and it was whispered that there were dark goings on in the house.” Emily paled at this.

“Séances were held each week, and it was said that he was trying to bring Eleanor back from the dead. His dear little girl refused to be a part of it, and she hid in her rooms most times, seen to by the servants. When it was finally realized by His Lordship that Eleanor was well and truly gone from him and would never come back, he started having gambling parties and threw himself into what seemed the most unsavory crowds possible.

“Almost monthly the deterioration of the village and the house were seen by those both within and without, and there was worry that His Lordship was going to do either himself or his daughter a harm with all the goings-on. Year in and year out he ran further and further into debt with his creditors and gambling pals. It got to a point where, when the young girl turned twenty, he had become so drunk and debauched at one of his parties, he auctioned her off to the highest bidder to try and ease the noose around his neck.”

Mrs. Whitloe shook her head. “It was a sad state of affairs that night, I can tell you. A runner came from the house to let us know at the Parrish that His Lordship had finally gone round the bend, that his daughter had been forced to flee for her very virtue and life, and that in a fit of despair and horror, he had hung himself and crashed through the glass at the top of the stairs in the main hallway.”

Glancing up, she found that her audience was now weeping into her napkin, and Lord Emberton looked fit to be tied. “Did I say something amiss? I do apologize for oversetting you, my dear Miss Campbell. I don’t know where my mind went. I do like a good story, but I should have known that it would have upset you, as you’re still obviously tired from your journey.”

“Mrs. Whitloe, you will have to excuse me,” Emily said quietly. “I’m not used to hearing my father’s exploits bandied about so openly. I think I need to lay down for the rest of the evening. Thank you for an – educational evening.” With every ounce of dignity, she got up slowly and left the table, leaving a horrified-looking Mrs. Whitloe, and a very angry-looking Anthony.

Rushing through the house, Emily’s vision blurred with tears. She could still hear Mrs. Whitloe’s words ringing in her ears, and could not seem to keep a sob from erupting from between her lips. Her hand fisted into her mouth to keep from making further noise, and she hurried to her chambers at the end of the far hallway, the ghosts of horrors gone by nipping at her heels.

Story Time!

So, I have been working on this gothic thing for about a week or so... I'm wanting your opinion on how well it's going, so here's the Preface and chapter 1... I'll be posting more as I get them done...

Preface

There wasn’t a cloud in the Devonshire sky as the carriage whirred past at a moderate pace. Three horses followed along behind, keeping up a steady, but quick pace. A woman in blue, flanked by two men dressed in livery of the same color, trimmed with silver. A few tendrils of hair were escaping the knot at the base of her head, and flew behind her in flaming disregard of any sort of proper order. Her hat, which had been previously set at a jaunty angle, was now dangerously leaning to one side, and ready to fly at a moment’s notice.

The three of them rode along the carriage route set before them, following the ribbon of brown along the fields and into the town of BrambleBriar, then out again without stopping or slowing, urging their horses onward toward the manor house that the town was named for, just three miles down the road. The lady leaned forward in anticipation, happy at last to reach her destination. Her horse surged ahead of her two companions with little urging, feeling the happiness from his mistress and wishing also to be able to at last rest.

With that one urging, the hat, so precariously perched, now launched itself across the field and into a nearby bramble patch. The woman didn’t notice, too intent upon the vision now in front of her – the manor was brought into view as she reached the summit of a hill, and she looked down upon a lovely visage of it. A pond was off to one side, just peaking out from behind it, and there was a large stand of trees framing a beautiful garden on the other side of it. The front of the house was protected from any winds by a stand of tall trees, which stood sentinel on either side of the main driveway and down into the turnaround.

Riding up the drive, she was struck by the sudden realization that, while beautiful, this was a very lonely spot – sunken into a bowl with hills all around it, and no other houses in sight. The fields were terraced, and seemed to be filled with a number of different crops. She had stopped at the top of the hill, and shaded her eyes, looking down onto the scene below. All seemed very quiet and normal – quaint, even. Very different from the last time she’d been here… When she’d been forced to ride like the very hounds of hell had been after her. So long ago… So very, very long ago. She shuddered, then headed down the hill toward BrambleBriar once more.



Chapter 1


Several hands came up to grasp the horse’s heads as she rode up to the front door. The carriage had already been drawn around to the side of the house, and she urged her horse toward the servants’ entrance as well. A hand on the reins stopped her from moving forward. She looked down and saw a large, firm fist filled with leather, leading up to strong shoulders, set under a handsome head.

She blinked, then attempted half-heartedly to wrestle the reins back from him. He grinned up at her, then deftly took the reins completely away from her. She sat there, helpless as he led the horse to the dismounting steps by the front of the house, then held his hand out for her to grasp as she dismounted from her side-saddle.

“It was good of you to come, Miss Campbell,” he said, his voice rolling over her like warmed chocolate, rich and dark.

“I hardly felt as though I had a choice, my lord. You said it was most urgent, that my great-aunt needed me most desperately.” She glanced up at him, trying to gauge whether he’d been serious, or if it had been a rouse to get her there, alone.

“I was not exaggerating. She is most unwell, and will most likely not be able to live out the rest of this month, if Doctor Wellesly is any judge. I’m… grateful that you came. You’re presence here will ease her until she goes.” He looked into her eyes, capturing her gaze for a moment before she looked down quickly.

“Lord Emberton, I will be here for as long as is needed – however, I feel that I must let you know immediately that I am not here willingly. Nor will I stay here beyond my great-aunt’s passing. It was good of you to take her in after - everything. You were very kind, and I feel that I will never truly be able to repay you for your generosity. However, I cannot forget what happened here five years past, and I will not remain.”

“Of course, I… understand completely. Have you a chaperone with you, Miss Campbell?”

“No, my lord. One was not available to take with me on such short notice. I shall be staying in the bedroom next to my great-aunt, if that is acceptable to you.”

“Indeed. I took the liberty of having the rooms aired out for your arrival. I received your response several days ago. I will have a runner head to the village and meet with the vicar’s wife. She is of a matronly age, and can set well the duties of a chaperone for you during your visit. If that is acceptable to you, of course?”

“If it will make you feel more comfortable, then by all means. I do not plan to venture out of the suite you’ve made available to Aunt Sophie and me during my stay here.”

“You will dine at least once a day outside of those rooms, Miss Campbell. Please consider it a – request, if not an order. I do not wish to see you cooped up forever, and I have found that the life of a country lord is rather dull most days.” He smiled at her, hoping to find one in kind. She pursed her lips together in annoyance, instead.

“Fine, my lord.” She turned toward the door abruptly and started up the stairs. “If I may please be escorted to my rooms.”

He bowed, and held out his arm to her. Placing her arm under his, he led her into the darkness that was the front hallway, and into her immediate future, as unknown as the deepest depths of the sea.

She smelled beeswax and lemon, and as her eyes adjusted to the gloom of the front room, she saw a huge stained glass window at the top of the stairs, dominating the hall. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered that the last time she’d been here, the window had been plain – but broken completely through. She rapidly blinked her eyes and focused again on the subject matter, to find that it was a mermaid on a rock – completely nude from the waist up, covered only by her long, wavy red curls. She could feel the blush start under her chemise, and tried to cover it up by looking at other parts of the front room.

Lord Emberton led her up the stairs and toward the west side of the house, overlooking the pond. Down the hallway filled with antiques she recognized from when she’d lived there, she followed quietly until they reached the room with a ewer and basin setting out front.

He quietly knocked on the door, and a somber-faced woman answered the door. Backing away, she allowed the both of them into a cheery-looking room. Flowers were everywhere, and the windows were open to let in the warm spring breeze. An old woman, graceful even at her advanced age, lay in the bed, sitting up and sipping broth quietly. She looked up and saw the two standing there, and broke into a smile.

“Dearest Emily! I’m so glad you were able to make it here,” she said quietly, her arms outstretched to greet the red-headed visitor.

Emily quickly disengaged herself from his lordship and hurried forward, eyes only for her aunt. Settling down gently next to her, she was hugged gently, then her hands were held in paper-dry, thin ones.

“My dear aunt. I hope that I find you well,” she said, looking worriedly into her aunt’s laughing green-gray eyes. “Are you well?”

Chuckling, her aunt sighed, then sipped daintily again from her soup. “According to the doctor, I’m to have strict bed-rest. I had a dizzy spell a few weeks ago. Wellesly thinks it’s my heart. I told him my heart was fine, and I need more exercise, but he won’t hear of it. Thinks that I need to be kept calm. Ha!” She plunked her spoon down and gazed at her niece. “Still, I’m glad that you came. You need to put to rest the ghosts that still walk here – the memories in your head. Emmy, dear, you need to move on and find yourself someone to be with, and not be alone.”

Emily caught her breath in her throat, and swallowed. “I shan’t be alone now. I have you.” She smiled softly, and cupped a hand in hers.

“Anthony, have you ever heard such nonsense – a young woman, of marriageable age, preferring the company of an old, dried out woman to a desirable young man?” She looked past Emily’s shoulder at his lordship, who smiled.

“My dear lady, who would ever want the company of someone other than yourself, when you’re so incredibly engaging?” She tittered, and he smiled at her. Looking over at Emily, his smiled faded. “I shall leave the two of you alone, then. I’m glad you came, Miss Campbell. It means the world.” He closed the door slowly, catching one last glimpse of Emily’s red head bent forward to listen intently to Sophie’s words.