II



Matthew arrived at the party early to find himself the only person – aside from servants – present with the earl – Geoffrey Paige senior – and Duke Wulf. This did not surprise him much. The time for the party had been set for an hour later, and most fashionable people did not arrive early, but he had hoped that he would be able to see Geoffrey.



“Have you met Lord Portsmouth’s son, Matthew?” the earl asked the duke. “He’s a good friend of my own son.”



“Not as yet.” The duke turned to Matthew. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.” The formality, reminiscent of an earlier time, flowed naturally from his lips as he met Matthew’s gaze. His eyes were a faded blue, almost as pale as his firm white skin.



My father met him when he was a boy, but he looks as though he’s barely forty. Matthew wondered at the duke’s appearance as they shook hands. “I’m also pleased to meet you, your Grace. When did you arrive in the city?”



“My wife and I arrived yesterday morning,” said the duke. “Unfortunately our house was not yet prepared for our arrival, but Earl Paige has been gracious enough to host us for the next few weeks.”



“Geoff said he would escort the duchess to the ballroom this evening. He shouldn’t be long.”



Matthew thanked the earl and said that he would wait. The small talk continued for a time. Geoffrey kept quiet, answering questions asked, but otherwise letting his seniors speak. Little held the duke’s attention for long. Seemingly there were very few topics that interested him. He would dismiss history with a wave of his hand; any talk of the latest science would only make him raise one thin eyebrow. Recent news that had not yet had time to reach the Eastlands gained the most attention, but even then he was dismissive, as though he had heard it, or something similar, before.



The earliest guests had begun to arrive when a small woman came down the stairs, alone. She looked thin and pale, unhealthily so, but as she walked she managed to command Duke Wulf’s attention like nothing else had so far that evening. He did not take his eyes off of her for one second as she descended and as he watched, Matthew noticed the duke lick his lips. He hungers for her, Matthew thought. She must be his wife. Where’s Geoff?



As she neared, the lady smiled and for one brief moment she met Matthew’s eyes. Why so sad? he thought. He was used to seeing empty smiles – the court was full of fake laughter and hidden emotions – but he had never seen a smile hide such deep emotion. Nor, he admitted, was he used to seeing such a beautiful face. Matthew understood the duke’s hunger now. Despite her unnaturally pale skin, the duchess was stunning.



“Lucinda,” said the duke, clasping his lady’s shoulders and kissing her gently. “The blue suits you.” Matthew studied her dress in surprise as he realised that it was not black as he first thought, but a deep blue. The satin shimmered in the light and sequins sewn into the material glistened like stars, making her look like a goddess of the night. She wears it well. She’s no commoner.



“Your Grace,” Earl Paige bowed. “You are a sight to behold, although it seems that my son is not with you. You must forgive me for his manners.”



“It’s alright,” said Lucinda – the name suited her more than any title, Matthew thought – “Your son was feeling ill, and I suggested he rest.” The duke’s eyes narrowed at that statement.



“I hope he’s alright,” the duke said.



“He’ll be fine.” Lucinda smiled at her husband. Husband! Matthew riled at the thought. The duke may look young, but he’s older than my father! He tried to suppress the sudden rush of jealousy.



“Still,” said the earl, “This is your first ball. He should be here to entertain you. I will not have my family show poor hospitality.”



“I’ll keep her company.” The words blurted out of Matthew’s mouth too quickly for propriety.



“Pardon?” The duke was polite, as ever, as all three looked at Matthew questioningly. It seemed he spoke too quickly even to be understood.



“I said I would keep her company.” Matthew said, more slowly this time. “Our families are close enough that no one will comment.”



The earl pondered for a moment. “By your leave?” he bowed his head to Duke Wulf. The duke nodded. “I accept your offer then, Lord Matthew. May I formally introduce you to Her Grace, Duchess Lucinda of the Eastlands.” He turned from Matthew to Lucinda, “Your Grace: this is Lord Matthew Portsmouth, son of Lord Hayden Portsmouth.”



“It is an honour to meet you, Your Grace.” Matthew bowed and took one hand, warm and throbbing with life, and brushed his lips against it. He was no stranger to the game of love, but that brief touch, normally no more than a courtesy, excited him more than any passionate kiss. She’s out of your reach, he told himself. She’s already married.



Yes, replied some traitorous part of his mind. But she’s not happy. You can change that.





“I know the rumours.” Matthew was surprised to hear the lady by his side mention them. Throughout the evening he had been careful to shield her from any mention of the foul gossip that had preceded her arrival. “We thought that if I remained behind, people would take that as proof they were true… so I came.”



“Are they true? I mean, the one about your son. That’s the only one that matters.” Matthew cursed himself for his tactlessness. Still, he reminded himself, she’s the one who brought it up.



Lucinda looked out into the distance, resting her hands on the balcony where they stood, secluded for the moment. “I… am unable to have children.”



“But, the duke and you… what will you do?” A noble needs heirs. Matthew struggled with the concept of a childless family. Who will inherit the estate when age catches up with him?



“We will live. As well as we can, for as long as we can.” Lucinda sighed. “What else is left for the likes of us?”



“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Matthew gazed at the night, stealing glances at the woman besides him. He understood the sadness within her a little better now, he thought. And it’s not the duke’s fault, cursed the jealous part of him that he had tried to hide. He studied Lucinda carefully. Perhaps there was something else hidden there inside her; another sorrow that he could put right. The moonlight made her skin look white, paler even than it was before. Her hand trembled…



Matthew quickly reached out and caught Lucinda as she staggered. “Your skin’s ice cold,” he said. “Are you alright?”



Lucinda regained her balance, holding the balcony with both hands for support. “I’m fine. I’m just a little hungry. I only had a small snack before I came down this evening.”



“Then you should eat.”



“Not now. My husband and I dine privately.”



“Can’t you still eat now? There’s a buffet.”



“No. It’s our habit to dine alone. Besides, you would be shocked at our Eastern table manners.”



“I doubt it. I would love to dine with you.” Be quiet, his mind told him. She’s a married woman. It’s not her father you’ll have to deal with if you’re found out. It will be her husband after your head.



“No. I can’t.” Lucinda turned from the balcony abruptly. “Let’s go back inside. I’m feeling better.” She began to walk slowly yet steadily inside.



Matthew went in after the duchess. She’s hiding something. There’s a part of her that needs help. If I can provide it, then I will.

III



Overnight, the snows had finally come. As Matthew’s carriage made its way towards the gates of the Paige mansion he saw two servants removing the stiff body of a homeless man.



“The cold must have caught him last night,” one servant called.



“Yes, but I still don’t see how he got into the garden. It’s a bad omen.” The other made the sign against evil.



“He was probably just looking for somewhere warm to sleep.” The first servant dismissed the other’s superstition. “Come on, let’s get rid of him.”



The two servants stood aside as Matthew passed through the gates. Fascinated, he looked out of the window at the body. Noticing something, he called for the carriage to stop.



“He doesn’t have the pox, does he?” he asked.



“No. Why do you ask?”



“Look at those welts,” he said, pointing to the corpse’s neck. Two red marks stood out against the deathly white skin.



“Oh, them.” The servants looked relieved. “They’re just bite marks.”



“We think he must have had a run in with a stray dog. He has them all down his arm.”



Matthew nodded. “That’s good then.” The pox had come two years before, taking his older brother and two sisters. He wouldn’t lose anyone else he cared about this year.



“I hear you fulfilled my duties last night.” A pale Geoffrey sat by the fire in his chambers. A scarf was wrapped around his neck and he was shivering, despite the warmth in the room. “You must have been upset to miss the party.”



“No. I enjoyed myself. She’s a fascinating woman. How are you feeling?”



“Tired.” Geoffrey laughed weakly. “I feel like the essence has just been sucked out of me.”



“Do you know what’s wrong?”



“I don’t remember.” Geoffrey narrowed his eyes in thought. “There was something last night… I blacked out. Father blames the duke for some reason. He asked him to leave this morning.”



“Why does he blame the duke?” Matthew thought back to the previous night. Did the duke care about anything enough to deliberately harm his hosts? Then he recalled Lucinda. But why would he harm Geoffrey?



“I don’t know. He was angry though.”



There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Geoffrey called. Earl Paige entered, followed by a priest wearing the black frock of an exorcist. The earl looked bleak. The exorcist evidently had come for a reason.



“Will you please give us some privacy,” the earl commanded, barely looking at Matthew.



“What’s wrong –” Matthew began to ask.



“I asked you to give us some privacy.” There was fear, not anger, in that abrupt statement. Matthew bowed and made his leave, wondering what could have happened that his friend needed an exorcist to be cured.

IV

“What’s the boy doing here?” Two figures stood at an open window of the town house, looking over the shadowed street. The taller one narrowed his eyebrows in disapproval.



“I invited him.”



“Don’t make another mistake like you did at the earl’s place. It cost a lot to keep us safe. He may still turn us in.”



“I won’t. I promise.”



“Good. I’ll be watching.”



Matthew looked up at the duke’s town house. The design was an old one, and most people would have replaced the dated structure with a more modern house. He wondered why the duke had not done so already. He could certainly afford to.



Two figures were silhouetted against the light of the only large window facing the street. Matthew recognised the smaller one as the duchess and assumed that the larger one was her husband. They stood close together – too close, really, to be proper. Is he kissing her neck? Right where everyone can see him? Two heads rose, and for an instant Matthew could see two white faces staring down at him before both figures left the window.



Matthew shrugged and knocked on the door. The duke’s private life wasn’t any of his business.



Inside, the duchess was waiting for him, a slight flush to her cheeks. “Good evening, Your Grace,” Matthew took her hand, bowed and kissed her fingers, feeling that same shock that he had felt the evening before. Forget about it, he told himself. You saw how she was with her husband.



“So formal, Matthew?” Lucinda laughed. “You don’t have to greet me like that when we’re in private.”



“But I enjoy it,” Matthew said, thinking of the feelings that raced through his body as he touched her hand.



“Truthfully, it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. I didn’t grow up in the court, and it seems a little… strange. It feels unnatural. ”



“But I enjoy it,” Matthew insisted, quickly thinking of the ways he could convince her to allow him this one, small physical contact. “It’s second nature to me.”



With that, he swept into another bow, taking her hand again, and in his excitement, he didn’t notice the almost-suppressed shiver that shook her small frame.





Matthew couldn’t understand it. Lucinda had invited him to visit, but she had spent the entire evening distant. What did I do wrong? Yesterday, at the party, she had been friendly, if somewhat withdrawn, but now she wouldn’t look at him. She would flinch away at his slightest movement towards her. She was beginning to look pale again, too. It was amazing how quickly her skin tone could change.



“What’s wrong?” he asked.



“Nothing.” Lucinda brushed away his concern. “I’m just distracted. It’s all so new here. There are so many things that I didn’t learn.”



She’s lying, was Matthew’s immediate thought. But what would she be lying about? He paused for a moment before replying. “What did you want to learn?” Hopefully she’ll open up.



“I don’t know. I just don’t feel comfortable. The dances here seem so fake and I don’t even know the steps. Everything seems like some ritual. Everyone’s polite, but I’m not sure if they really mean it.”



“I don’t understand.” Did he seem fake? Did she think he was lying? Matthew wondered at her meaning. “I can teach you how to dance, if that’s bothering you.” It seemed like such a pathetic offer, but what else could he do?



“You don’t understand. It’s not that.” Lucinda sighed. “I’m just so lonely. I don’t fit in.”



She looked so delicate, so lost, that Matthew barely thought before he found himself saying, “I’ll always be your friend. I promise.” Friends? It wasn’t what he wanted. How could she be married to him? She was so young, and the duke, regardless of his appearance, was older than his grandfather. But friends was the best he could do for now. for now. Perhaps one day she would be widowed… Matthew quickly dismissed the uncharitable thought. The church taught that such wishes would rebound on the one who made them. He turned his attention back to Lucinda.



“Really? Friends? You promise?” She seemed surprised by his offer, as though it was too good to be true.



“I promise. I’ll be your friend, no matter what.”



With that affirmation, the walls she had put up earlier that evening seemed to collapse. “Thankyou,” she said. “Thankyou.” She began to tremble – with gratitude, Matthew thought.



As a friend, I wouldn’t be out of place giving her a hug, Matthew suddenly thought. He reached out and embraced her, mildly surprised when she hugged him back. She was still trembling, and impetuously, he kissed her forehead. It was strange how cold her skin felt against his lips. Perhaps it was he who was hot.



He felt Lucinda’s head tilt up; felt her tongue lick his neck. Be careful, a voice in his head told him. She’s another man’s wife. He almost ignored it, but a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned and looked towards it. How did the duke get in here? In a moment of terror, he pushed Lucinda away, afraid that her husband knew what they were doing. Of course he knew what we were doing, he thought. He saw us, didn’t he?



“What are you doing?” The duke’s voice was edged in anger. Matthew started to stammer out an excuse, but the duke’s eyes were fixed on Lucinda. She looked back at him, still trembling, her eyes wild.



“I asked what you were doing with this boy,” the duke demanded of his wife again.



“I’m just…” Lucinda licked her lips and looked at Matthew. Just what? Matthew didn’t understand, but the duke did.



“Again? How could you be? You’re just greedy.



Matthew hung back, glad in a way that the duke’s anger seemed focused on Lucinda and not on him. She was still trembling, and looked pale like she had the night before, when she fainted.



As if Matthew thinking it had made it be, Lucinda suddenly collapsed. The duke caught her with startlingly quick reflexes, his anger gone in an instant. “Oh, honey,” Matthew heard him whisper. He cradled her close to him and looked up at Matthew. “I think it’s best you go home now, boy,” he said.



Two priests walked down the road.



“Halt!” called one as he saw the carriage. As he came up, the faint moonlight showed him to be the exorcist who had seen Geoffrey earlier. Behind him stood an acolyte, nervously clutching his cross in one hand and a wooden stake in the other.



“Ah. Young Lord Portsmouth,” said the exorcist. “You should be careful on the roads this late. There is a vampire loose in the city.”



“A vampire?” Matthew bit his lower lip in thought. Weren’t vampires just legends?



“I’m surprised you hadn’t heard. It attacked your friend, Master Paige.”



“I knew he was ill… is he ok?”



“He is recovering from the wound, but we still haven’t exorcised the demon.”



“The demon?” Matthew knew little of vampires, and had never heard of them in relation to demons.



“When a vampire bites its victim,” the exorcist explained, “it drinks the victims blood, and also infuses them with demonic essence. The essence can either be removed through treatment and prayer, or by killing the vampire who bit them. Your friend didn’t respond to the treatment today, though, so we’re searching for the vampire.”



“What if you don’t find it?” While he was infected with a demon, Geoffrey would not be allowed to enter holy grounds. If he died while infected, his body would have to be buried outside of the church grounds, and his soul consigned to hell.



“There’s always hope that the treatment will work.”



“May I visit him?”



“Certainly.” The priest nodded. “Firm friends may help him to fight the demon if we cannot find the vampire.”



“Thankyou, Father. I will pray for him tonight.”



“You do that, my son.” The priest made the sign of the cross over Matthew. “You take care, and may God protect you on your journey home. May he bless you and keep you safe. Amen.”



As the carriage continued to make its way through dark streets, Matthew completed the priest’s prayer.



“… Amen.”

___________________
Ok... I'll post more later.

welcome to the story board.

With midwinter approaching, balls were being held almost every night as rival lords attempted to gather the largest crowd at their own midwinter celebration. Matthew went to these balls alone, Geoffrey still being ill. It had been almost two weeks since the night of the attack and he was still showing no signs of improvement.


During the day, he would visit Geoffrey and tell him of his evenings. Geoffrey seemed to enjoy hearing of the parties, but the vampire’s sickness was robbing him of his health. He was becoming increasingly pale and occasionally he would look as though he were about to faint, despite the fact that he was lying in his bed.


Because Geoffrey was bedridden, it surprised Matthew no end when on one occasion, it was Geoffrey who was giving him news.


“Madame Josephine is pregnant,” Geoffrey told Matthew happily. “I’m going to have a brother!”


“A brother?” Matthew asked. “Have they already asked the priests to divine it?” Divining the sex of a child was an unusual move, and was generally only undertaken by older childless lords. Matthew looked at his friend’s smiling face and wondered if he realised that his father may have given him up for dead.


“Yes. I thought it was odd at first, but Madame Josephine just couldn’t wait to find out.” Geoffrey said. “I don’t mind. When mother died, I thought I’d never have any brothers or sisters, but now I’m finally getting one!”


“That’s good news, then,” Matthew said, Geoffrey’s explanation quietening his fears somewhat.


“Oh, Hello, Father Pontsfrey,” Geoffrey said suddenly, looking behind Matthew.


Matthew looked back. The tall Exorcist who was overseeing Geoffrey’s treatment always seemed to arrive without warning. Behind him stood an acolyte carrying the equipment for the treatment.


“Good afternoon, Master Paige,” said Father Pontsfrey. “Are you ready for your treatment?”


“As ready as ever.” Geoffrey said. He glanced at Matthew. “Uh, can Matthew stay? I think I’d like it if he were here.”


“He can stay if he wishes. The good will of friends can often help to speed the demon away.” The priest opened the bag and took out a small vial. He poured a small amount of a foul-smelling liquid into a glass and handed it to Geoffrey.


“What is it?” Matthew asked as Geoffrey drank the concoction.


“It’s a mixture of garlic and quicksilver. Both are inimical to vampires and will help your friend’s body to reject the demon,” said the priest. He took two candles and placed them at the head of the bed, praying over each of them in turn.


“It tastes worse than it smells,” Geoffrey told Matthew. “Be glad that no vampire’s bitten you.”


“I am,” said Matthew. “I don’t think I could swallow that stuff.”


“That’s not the worst of it, either,” said Geoffrey. “Watch this.”


Geoffrey offered his arm to the Exorcist who had taken out a long hollow needle with a tube attached to it. Father Pontsfrey inserted the needle into Geoffrey’s vein and watched the blood as it came out into an empty measuring container. When the container measured a pint of blood, the priest removed the needle and bandaged Geoffrey’s arm.


“You’re taking more this time?” Geoffrey asked.


“Yes, Master Paige. We’re increasing the treatment from now on, in hope that the demon will be exorcised more quickly. I hope you’re saying your prayers.”


“I am, Father.”


“That’s good. Now, get some rest.”


“Yes, Father. I’m feeling sleepy anyway.” Geoffrey lay back and closed his eyes. Soon he was breathing evenly in sleep.


The Exorcist shook his head, sadly. “You’ll never be cured like that, my son,” he whispered. “May the Lord watch over you while you sleep and drive out the demon within you. Amen.”


Matthew also prayed for his friend, who looked weaker after his treatment than he had before. He hoped that the prayers of himself and the priest would be sufficient to gain the Lord’s attention when Geoffrey’s strength had been too little for him to pray himself.


The Exorcist arose. “Come,” he said to Matthew. “It’s best to let your friend rest in peace now.”


Matthew nodded and followed him out of the room, leaving Geoffrey behind alone.


“Why do you need to draw the blood from him?” he asked.


“The majority of the demonic essence that a vampire infects a victim with runs through the victim’s blood. By drawing the blood from your friend, we are also removing the demon from him.”


“Isn’t that dangerous?” Matthew asked.


“Yes, it is,” the priest admitted. “But it’s better to attempt to exorcise the demon than to allow his soul to be damned without fighting for it.”

VI


Seeing the exact nature of Geoffrey’s treatment had shaken Matthew. Arriving at the major party on that night, he was still unable to take his mind off of his friend’s condition, and found it difficult to enjoy himself.


He was distracted by the sight of Duke Wulf making his way through the crowd. It was strange to see him here. Since the falling out he had had with Earl Paige, the two nobles had not attended the same gatherings, but tonight the two of them were present, albeit keeping a distance from each other. Perhaps Lucinda might be here as well, he thought. She’s not with him. I wonder where else she could be?


Matthew searched the room, but could not see her. Eventually he realised that the quickest way to find her would probably be to ask her husband, as distasteful as he might find that to be. He gathered up his nerves and spoke to the imposing figure.


“Good evening, Your Grace,” said Matthew. “How have you been?”


“I am well, thankyou,” said the duke, “although my lady is not so well. Unfortunately she couldn’t come tonight because of it.”


“Oh.” Matthew was dejected. Why must everyone be ill? “I hope she recovers soon.”


“And how are you, Lord Matthew?” the duke asked.


“I am well, thankyou, Your Grace,” Matthew said. “I hope you enjoy your evening.” He bowed and turned to head off, but the duke interrupted him.


“Tell me, how is your friend?”


“Geoffrey?” Matthew paused. “He’s as well as can be expected, I think. The treatment’s tough on him.”


“Treatment?”


“For the vampire bite.” Matthew wondered at the wisdom of telling Wulf about Geoffrey, but the vampire attack was common knowledge.


“Did he drink the vampire’s blood?” Wulf asked, leaning uncomfortably close to Matthew.


“Drink the blood? I don’t know,” Matthew said, confused by the question. “The priest just said it was treatment for the bite.”


“So he didn’t drink the blood?” the duke was insistent.


“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”


“What is the treatment?”


Matthew stepped back. “It’s not my place to talk about it.”


“Tell me.” The duke’s pale gaze caught Matthew’s. Despite their washed-out appearance, the duke’s eyes held enormous power. Matthew suddenly found himself enveloped with fear. Suddenly the only thing that mattered was getting that gaze away from him. “Tell me,” the duke repeated.


“They were giving him medicine and leeching his blood.”


“What medicine? How much blood?”


“It was quicksilver and garlic for the medicine. They took out a pint of blood. I think they do it every day.”


“Why?”


“To draw out the demon.” Matthew said.


With that, the duke broke his gaze. Matthew’s head cleared and he looked around. The conversation had drawn the attention of the entire party. Every head was turned towards the duke and him.


The duke immediately started striding towards Earl Paige. Matthew followed, the crowd leaving him plenty of space to do so. The duke stopped in front of the earl, and Matthew stood behind him, unsure of what was happening.


“You’re killing your son,” the duke said to the earl, anger brimming in his voice.


“How am I killing him, Eastlands?” Earl Paige sneered.


“With the ‘treatment’ he’s receiving. It’s not the way to treat a vampire bite. It will only kill him.”


“And I suppose you happen to know better than the priests,” said the earl. “One could wonder how you got this information.”


“Vampires are more common in the Eastlands than here,” the duke said. “Our folk tales are more accurate than your beliefs. If he did not drink the vampire’s blood then he harbours no demon.”


The earl looked from the duke to Matthew. “You seem to know a lot about my son’s condition for someone who is not welcome in my house. You also seem eager to dispute the knowledge of one of the senior members of the clergy. I won’t give your folk tales credence over Father Pontsfrey’s expertise.”


“I will not be held responsible for his death.”


“Are you willing to hand over the monster that attacked him, then?” the earl asked. “Other than the treatment, it’s the only way he can be saved.”


“I cannot do that,” said Duke Wulf. The anger in his voice faded, although he still did not sound like his usual emotionless self.


“Then don’t try to tell me what to do with my son.” Earl Paige began to walk past the duke. “I hope that this hasn’t altered our business arrangement.”


The duke shook his head. “No. I shall keep my end of the deal, so long as you keep yours.”


“That is good to hear,” said the earl. To Matthew he said, “I am disappointed to see that you have sided with him, when he is responsible for bringing the monster here.” With that, Earl Paige left. He briefly bid his host farewell and then departed.


The crowd began to move away. They kept away from Matthew and the duke – no one wanted to be associated to closely with them until the true consequences of the argument were known


“I brought no monster here,” Wulf said to no one in particular, although Matthew was the only one who heard.

VII


After Earl Paige left, the party quickly died out. Duke Wulf excused himself, saying he had business to attend in town. He was not the first to do so, and with him gone, Matthew suddenly found himself without allies. Already it seemed that popular opinion was favouring the powerful local over the unknown duke from a region so remote that it barely registered among others as being a part of the kingdom. Because of Matthew’s part in the argument, he had been associated with the duke, and even those he considered to be friends were avoiding him.


Matthew soon left the party, despite the early hour. With no one willing to talk to him, there was little point in staying. He had planned to ride home with a friend, however now that he appeared to be shunned, he had no transport home. He wandered the streets aimlessly for a while, wondering how he could get out of this situation. He had no quarrel with Duke Wulf, but on the other hand Geoffrey had been his closest friend for most of his life.


He broke out of his reverie as his foot ran into something soft. He looked down and saw two pale corpses – transients. To encounter three dead in two weeks was not unheard of, although it was unusual in a mild winter such as this one. Matthew kicked one of the corpses and it rolled over slightly, revealing twin puncture marks on its neck. A small amount of blood still dripped out of the wounds – these were fresh wounds. He shivered as he thought of the vampire that was on the loose. What had he been thinking, wandering around alone after dark? With worse luck, it could have been him lying there, and not these men. Perhaps it was best to go home.


He looked up and took stock of where he was. On the opposite side of the street was the townhouse where the duke and duchess were saying. Matthew looked around. There was nobody in the street. He could quite easily go into the building now, when no one could see him. If Eastlands was telling the truth about the business in town, then Matthew had a chance to speak to Lucinda without him. And, he thought, perhaps they will be kind enough to lend me a carriage to return home.


He crossed the street and knocked on the door. For a long time, there was no answer, and Matthew began to worry that there was nobody home. Then, finally, the door opened, revealing not the duke’s reserved butler as Matthew expected, but rather the tiny figure of the duchess.


“Oh!” Lucinda gasped. “Matthew! I didn’t expect to see you. Come in.” She ushered him inside and offered him a seat in the small parlour off the entrance hall.


“Lucinda,” Matthew said. “I heard you were ill. What are you doing out of bed?”


“I was hungry, so I came down to eat.”


“Shouldn’t your servants do that for you?” Matthew asked.


“They left.” Lucinda said.


“So you’re alone? But what about the vampire?” Matthew asked. “Don’t you feel unsafe with it here?”


Lucinda laughed. “Oh, no. I don’t feel unsafe at all. In any case, a vampire must be invited into your home before it can enter.”


Matthew frowned. Lucinda was from the Eastlands, and she probably knew more about vampires than the people of the city, but he still didn’t like her trusting her safety to folklore. “If you say so,” he said. “But if you ever feel as though you need my help, come to me and I’ll protect you.”


“Are you inviting me into your house?” Lucinda asked.


“Yes,” said Matthew. “Whenever you want.”


“Why?”


“Because you’re beautiful,” said Matthew, “and the last thing I want is to see you hurt.”


He leaned over and gently kissed her on the cheek before sitting back up. He felt a shiver down his spine as he felt the cool texture of her skin on his lips. Lucinda looked at him, eyes opened wide in surprise. It’s generally the duke who does that to her, Matthew thought. He was struck with a sudden rush of jealousy as he realised everything the duke got that he didn’t.


“You look so perfect,” he said, stroking her cheek. “Why do you have to be married? It’s not fair.”


“Why isn’t it fair?” Lucinda asked. “He’s all I could ask for in a husband. He cares for me more than he cares for his own life.”


“It’s not fair, because I love you,” Matthew said intensely. “And it’s just wrong that you’re married to a man who’s old enough to be your grandfather.” I care for you more than he does. He cannot appreciate you enough. Only I could do that.


“Matthew…”


“It breaks my heart every time I think about you,” he said. “How could you do this to me?”


“I was married long before I knew who you were,” Lucinda said. “I did nothing to you.”


“You’re doing it to me now,” Matthew pleaded with her. “I need to be close to you. Please.”


He leant forward again and for a brief moment his lips met hers. Lucinda pulled back and her hands pushed him away with surprising strength.


“No,” she said. “My husband might return home at any moment now.”


“Let him,” Matthew said. “I don’t care. I want you too much.” He pushed forward again.


“I said, ‘No.’” Lucinda stood up sharply. “Please, go.”


Matthew stood up and bowed stiffly. “As you wish. I apologise for my behaviour if it may have offended you.”


“Thankyou,” said Lucinda softly.


Matthew smiled. “Remember, my offer is still open. I will be your friend, I will protect you, I will put you first, always. I promise.”


“Thankyou.”

Matthew leaned over and kissed Lucinda’s cheek and embraced her before leaving to walk home. If she was stiff and wooden in his arms, he didn’t notice. Being so close to her was enough to make it feel like heaven to him.

VIII


Overnight, Geoffrey died.


The news spread through the city quickly. One of their most beloved youths had been taken from them. When Matthew heard, he headed immediately to Geoffrey’s house, to see for himself the corpse of his friend.


When he arrived, the gatekeeper refused to let him in. “I’m sorry, my Lord,” he said, “but the earl said that you were not welcome here anymore.”


“But Geoffrey is dead!” Matthew said. “Surely I can see him one last time.”


“I’m sorry, my Lord,” the gatekeeper said. “I’m just following my orders.”


Matthew was left, helplessly looking at the gate of the Paige mansion as other lords and ladies went in to pay their respects to Geoffrey. He left as the sombre figure of Father Pontsfrey arrived with several other senior members of the clergy.


When he returned home, he found a message for him, from Duke Wulf. It read:


Dear Master Portsmouth,


I understand that your friend, Master Geoffrey Paige, has passed away. You have my condolences for your loss. It was an unnecessary death.


I apologise for brining you into my dispute with the Earl. I hope it has not prevented you from sharing your grief in the way you would like. I believe it would be in your own best interest to stay away from my house in the future. It is probable that the popular opinion will favour Earl Paige over me, and I have no intention of alienating you for the sake of an argument that is essentially mine.



Yours sincerely,



Remus Fitzpatrick Jonathan Tennyson Wulf, Duke Eastlands


Matthew sighed. Not only was he unable to pay his respects to Geoffrey, but now he was separated from Lucinda as well. He wondered how he could devise some kind of excuse to see her without anyone else finding out.


As he mused he saw a carriage coming up to his door. Whoever they were, they were probably here to see his father. He doubted that anyone would want to visit him today.


He was surprised when the occupant of the carriage turned out to be Chantal. Of all the people to be visiting his father, she was the last that he would have expected. His father loathed gossipy, flighty creatures like her. Matthew agreed with him. While Chantal may have made a fashionable ornament, she really had little else to recommend her. For some reason that he could not understand, she had always attempted to court him, despite his constant rebuttals.


After admitting Chantal, the butler came to tell Matthew that he had a guest. Matthew went to the foyer, wondering why she would be seeing him.


Chantal stood in the centre of the foyer, dried tears marring her complexion. “Oh! It’s terrible, Matthew,” she said. “What’s happened to Geoffrey.”


“I already know he’s dead,” Matthew said.


“It’s worse than that,” said Chantal.


Matthew froze. Geoffrey was already dead. What could be worse than that?


Chantal swept forward and clasped Matthew’s hands. “The priests have declared that the demon is still inside him.” She burst into tears. “They say he can’t be buried in a churchyard… he’s going to hell!”


“That can’t be true!” Matthew pushed Chantal away, sending her sprawling on the floor. She looked up at him in shock, but her expression hardly registered. “Why are you saying this? Don’t you have enough to gossip about?” He stepped towards her menacingly.


Chantal cowered on the floor. “It’s… it’s true,” she said. “I just thought…”


“You thought nothing,” said Matthew. “You thought that you wanted to see me, so you came. You weren’t thinking about me at all. You’re selfish and arrogant if you think that I’d want to see you, of all people when my best friend has just died.” He turned away from the quivering woman on the floor.


“I’m sorry,” she said to his back.


“Your apology is worthless to me,” he replied as he left the room. “Just like you.”



Three days later, Geoffrey’s funeral was held in a sombre fashion. The cursed body could not be buried on consecrated ground, so the funeral procession made its way out of the city grounds, away from the city’s large cathedral.


Matthew followed behind the procession, wishing that he could have stayed with it where he belonged, at its head. Unfortunately the earl still saw Matthew as an enemy and had refused him even a token role at the funeral.


The procession made its way up a hill and finally stopped in the centre of a large field of graves that was generally reserved for those too poor to be buried in the city proper. Earl Paige had paid artisans to get to work, and a small tomb was almost completed there. Signs barring evil from exiting adorned the walls and brackets were set upon it, ready to support the gargoyles that would decorate it.


Matthew found a vantage point above the tomb to watch the funeral. Most of the nobility were there. Duke Wulf was a notable exception, but with the bad blood between him and the earl, this was no surprise. Chantal stood at the front of the crowd, looking reserved. She looked up at him and caught his eye for a second before turning away.


Geoffrey’s coffin was taken into the tomb. Matthew felt a pang of regret as he realised that he should be one of those pallbearers. The pallbearers exited the tomb and a priest – Matthew thought that it might be the Exorcist, Father Ponstfrey – began to pray. Unlike the peaceful chants of those who died in God’s embrace, this was a harsher prayer, one designed not to speed a soul to rest, but to protect those who remained from its fury.


As he finished his prayer, the priest took out a piece of chalk and scrawled a symbol in the doorway to the tomb. Then he stood back and the doors were closed, ending the last chapter of Geoffrey’s time on Earth.


____________


There's more to come! I would have put this up before, but I was slightly nervous about hitting everyone with 1/3 of the story all at once.


This is all very much first draft stuff as well, so please! Constructuve criticism is very much welcome! I can't become a better writer if I noone will tell me where to improve!