Dark Weather

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  I blushed again. “I cannot believe any woman would want that,” I said, half whisper. But I had to admit it would be an enormous help. So I added, “I will leave these rags on the floor to burn after my bath, sir.”

  He smiled again. “So, my dear Sarah,” he said as quietly as always, “please undress now while I bring you soap and towels. It will not take long.”

  “You?” I stared at him. I was wishing the impossible once more.

  His smile suddenly glittered in his eyes like candle flames, but it was just, I think, the reflection from the fire. He said, “I have already seen you half naked, little one. But I will not interrupt your bath. While you wash, I shall amuse myself elsewhere, but will return with the clothes you need, and take those you cannot wear again.”

  So I waited until he brought me the hard cake of white soap, and the folded towels in a heap which he left beside the fire. When he disappeared again, I hurriedly undressed and climbed into the bliss of scalding hot water. I watched as the mud swam from my body to float at the water’s surface, and then dissolve, turning my bath grey. I tried to wash my hair, gobbled dirty and soap scammed water, but sat up cleaner than I had been since Arthur threw me into the shed. But in the heat, there was just the oozing mess of memories from Arthur’s attacks. and then even those I was able to wash away, one by one.

  The delight continued, and the water, although now discoloured, did not even seem to cool. The fire, perhaps, kept it hot. But then as I sat so comfortably, casually watching the strings of my hair floating around my shoulders, I heard the door open with a faint click, and my head jerked upwards.

  Jasper stood with a pile of neatly folded clothes in his arms. I know I blushed although hardly anything of my nakedness could be seen since I sat with water almost to my neck, and as grubby as if it was dark ale.

  Then I felt the warmth of his hand beneath my chin. “Look at me,” he commanded. I stared up, unflinching. His eyes were tunnels again. They enclosed me, and I disappeared into his warmth, seemingly even hotter than my bath. His eyes were the strangest I had ever seen, both loving and cold in the same moment. I imagined his gaze slipping into mine like a wolf into a cave where it knew living food hid in the shadows. I sat very still. No bubble pricked the water’s surface. I hoped for more, but said nothing.

  Then he said, “You must not fear me, for it is your husband I shall hurt, and only that because he must be cleaned in a different bath than yours. He must be washed free of the demon residing as his friend within.”

  I stuttered a yes, and asked, “He is a demon, then? A real demon?”

  “Your husband is a mortal man, but the demon sucks at him from inside,” Jasper said. “Now, when you have climbed from this tub, and I think the appropriate moment has cone, my dear, and when you are dressed, and eaten, drunk, and made your own decisions, I will travel through the forest and speak with your husband at your home. Do you wish to stay here, or would you accompany me? I can swear that he will neither lay hands on you, nor force you back under his authority. My wife will not return for several days, therefore you’ll not meet her if you remain. However, I believe you will benefit by returning to your home at my side.”

  Not at all sure, since both possibilities seemed so sweet, I finally said, “If I come too, I believe you’d protect me. But once you’ve gone, he’ll do what he wants.”

  Jasper shook his head. “I’ll not leave you alone with Arthur. But the choice is yours.”

  In a way I was sure I’d be happier sleeping here, but I said, “I’ll come. I want to see what he does. I want to hear what you say to him.”

  Again, he left me and I climbed from the tub, trying not to splash my dirty water onto his nice rug, and sat beside the fire to dry myself. With constantly repetitious stupidity I kept wondering if he would come in and help me, imagining his hands within the towel. I both felt relieved, and yet bitterly disappointed when he did not.

  Now naked and aware of my own body in the firelight I saw the old and newer bruises, scars, and signs of other injuries. At least, I thought, I’ve avoided the humiliation of Jasper seeing what a wreck I am.

  The towels he had given me were both larger and thicker yet softer than anything I had seen used like this before. His possessions were magic, almost every one. As magic as his eyes, his hands, and his words. But I called myself a fool, rubbed at my hair until it began to stop dripping and returned to its own colour, and then dressed myself in Mistress Fairweather’s clothes. They were a little tight on me and I realised she was the slimmer. I couldn’t take the blame for that, since it had been another demand from my husband. “Fatten up, skinny bone-witch. I want your arse like a cream cake to eat, and your belly like a pudding to punch.”

  Tight, but beautiful and I fingered them with wonder for although I had always worn grand clothes, I had never known such soft fabric nor such glorious decoration. No Puritan then, Mistress Fairweather. And now that I would return to my husband in company with this tall proud man, I would not shiver in Puritan clothes either.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When we set off, I wore the clothes of Jasper’s wife which fitted me and which Jasper chose. Petticoats of fresh white linen, stockings of dark silk, shoes of black leather to the ankles and lined in white fleece, warm as a hot brick in bed. The gown was tight waisted in mahogany brown with a velvet stripe down each sleeve. A mahogany brown cap kept my newly washed and combed hair tucked up in the neatly pinned style, and over my gown I wore a cloak, dark blue and lined in pale blue dyed fleece. I felt well dressed, but my hat was not the humble female’s starched white cap, and I had no apron and was not as prim as I should have been.

  Jasper had two beautiful horses, and we galloped back towards my home on the outskirts of London’s north pastures, quick as the wind until I felt we flew. Thinking of the days it had taken me to walk, lost and starving, I laughed when we arrived in just a few hours.

  The grooms looked amazed, but took our horses as we dismounted, and strode to the wide door and its brass doorbell. Jasper rang the bell as if a warning of fire. The butler answered, and I marched inside without a word, with Jasper following, uninvited. I led him into the large living chamber and shrugged off the cape. Jasper removed his coat and shook out his lace cuffs. Wearing no wig, his hair was wind ruffled, but now he shook it back as he also removed his hat, passing these discarded outer garments to the butler.

  “Tell Lord Harrington that we are here and wish to speak with him,” I said, and sat by the fire flaming bright across the hearth. Jasper stood, his elbow to the mantle.

  It was some time before Arthur appeared. He was glaring, but straightened and smiled when he saw Jasper, nodded to me and returned to Jasper.

  “Sir,” he said, “I am most obliged to you for bringing my wife home to me. She is an errant and wilful female, but I am mighty glad to have my little woman home again. It is late, and you have probably travelled some distance under the circumstances. Will you take a glass of wine with me before you leave?”

  Being cold but polite as usual, Jasper thanked him. I said, “I’ll have some wine too,” and frowned at Arthur.

  He scowled back. “I think not,” he said. “I believe you should retire to your bedchamber, madam. I wish to speak in private to our friend.”

  I had no intention of being locked away again. I shook my head. “No,” I said. “The wine would be a great comfort, considering I intend staying here and joining the conversation.”

  Arthur stepped forwards, both hands clenched, ready to order me out, but Jasper interrupted. “I believe, my lord, that your wife should remain. Sarah has been – let us say – unwell. She has a great deal to say. And you might think that this is not my business. Yet, I have no doubt, I may be of some assistance to you both.”

  My vile husband managed several different furious expressions one after the other, and then coughed, marching over to sit by us. “Very well,” he said. “But I must tell you at the outset, sir, that my wife is a woman of sin and promiscuit
y. She rarely speaks the truth and has assuredly been telling you lies ever since she met you. I will have her punished according to our Lord Protector’s new regime, but as always, I shall be lenient.”

  I almost laughed. Jasper, still standing, smiled. “My lord, I have come to know your wife a little better over these past months. Although I have met with her on relatively few occasions, I can tell quite easily whether or not she tells me the truth. For example, she came to me this day wearing the ruined remnants of old clothes. It was also quite obvious that she was excessively hungry and had been walking alone for many days, which involved sleeping under the trees. I will not believe any woman would choose to behave in this manner, suffering both the fear and the cold discomfort, unless for some exceptionally important reason. We have spoken at length. Now I wish to know why you imprisoned your wife without food or comfort and punished her consistently.”

  Although Jasper was as still as a statue, his eyelids were half closed. His eyes were both narrowed and coldly menacing. I knew menace when I saw it, even when the threat came from someone not waving a whip.

  Arthur almost choked. Abruptly he stood and faced Jasper staring up at him, in anger. Being much shorter, Arthur strained his neck, then glowered back at me.

  “These are lies,” he said loudly. “I would never and have never done any such thing. She ran away to one of her other lovers, and clearly that other man has mistreated her. Master Fairweather, I deny ever hurting any female. Certainly, I must punish her now as the law demands, but I would never lock her away nor deny her food.”

  “Why, then would she run from you?” Jasper asked softly.

  “Because she is a minx,” Arthur shouted back.

  The tray, the glasses and the wine decanter had been brought and I was drinking with determination. It fired my courage. Arthur was drinking heavily as well. Jasper sipped, looking bored. Perhaps it wasn’t the best wine, but I wouldn’t have known. We must have been nearing midnight, and I wondered if he’d change his mind and leave me here, half pissed and vulnerable as he rode back home.

  But he kept his promise.

  He said, always softly, “Although I cannot believe your words, my lord, I can sympathise.” Arthur jerked backwards in fury, but Jasper continued. “I have known many men who fail to discover pleasure without enacting perversions or indulging in cruelty. But there are ways of countering this. Indeed, there are ways of bringing far greater happiness into a life and finding the relief of affection, after permitting the removal of – such an impulse. Some call it killing the demon.”

  I smiled but turned my face away. Arthur stamped both feet. “Rubbish, sir. If anyone here could be described as a demon, it is her.” He pointed with one shuddering finger. ‘This trollop is the witch. Our church preaches the truth of damnation, and my wife is surely damned. But I will not allow her to curse me, nor bring her wickedness into my home.” Now I laughed and he nearly grabbed me.

  I glared over the brim of my glass and muttered, “My home too.” But caught Jasper’s tiny shake of the head, and returned to my wine.

  Again, Jasper stepped forwards, and taking Arthur by the shoulders, firmly guided him to the nearest chair. “I believe,” he said, “you are tired, sir. I suggest brandy, since that is the tonic that will bring both peace of mind and excellence of judgement. Would you try brandy, sir?”

  “Never drunk it in my life,” muttered the earl. “And I see no reason to start. Besides, I don’t have any.”

  With his usual tuck beside his mouth, Jasper resisted the smile. “But I do,” he said. “And offer it willingly. Though not for the lady, perhaps.”

  I almost scowled at him. Then I guessed what he meant. I’d never actually heard of brandy and had no desire to try it out, but I watched the temptation settle around Arthur’s head like a halo. “Worth a try. Yes, bring it out, Master Fairweather.”

  With a confident flourish, Vespasian brought out a flask from inside his jacket. It was a metal bottle, rather small, and polished like silver. He leaned over, offering it to my husband, who pulled out the cork and swallowed it down with a glug of satisfaction. “Pleasant stuff,” he admitted. It seemed he had almost forgotten about his errant min of a wife sitting and watching him. He gulped again, and swallowed it down, keeping a firm grasp on the flask. “Didn’t expect it to be so pleasant,” he added without any visible intention of returning the container. “Yes,” he swigged again, “very nice indeed.”

  I could see the bruises I had inflicted on him myself, and hoped they hurt as much as some of my injuries did. No doubt he was dreaming of the disgusting punishments he’d deliver once Jasper had left.

  Although not yet regaining his metal flask of brandy, Jasper did not complain. “In simple terms,” he said, “brandy is the concentrated extract of wine. Help yourself, my lord.”

  And he did. He kept on drinking as Jasper and I sat cheerfully finishing our original glasses of wine.

  Arthur rolled his eyes. He grinned, a mouthful of crooked teeth flashing, swigged the last drops of the brandy and wiped his mouth as a small dark dribble trickled down his chin. “Good stuff,” he said with liquid enthusiasm. “Must buy some myself.” He leaned back in the chair, crossed his arms with the flask still tight in one hand, and abruptly fell asleep. Within a minute he was snoring.

  This had happened so fast that I was surprised, but Jasper rose and took back the flask from my husband’s iron fisted grip. Clearly it was empty. Jasper tucked it again inside his jacket. “Drugged,” he said without shame. “Convenient of course, since otherwise I would have needed to knock him out. I have saved my knuckles from bleeding after all. Now do as I say. Come here and hold the creature upright.”

  I tried to keep my drunken pig of a husband straight on his chair although he slumped most of the time and twice nearly tumbled to the rugs. Meanwhile Jasper leaned from the back and grasped Arthurs entire head between his hands, holding it so tightly that I wondered if it would crush.

  “Out,” demanded Jasper, speaking far more loudly than I had ever heard him before. “I have spoken to you already and you know what will happen this time if you refuse to obey.”

  It was as if Arthur lived again. His eyes clicked open and the pupils seemed to burn scarlet as the iris blinked bright blue. As I had seen before, it was as if the eyes spoke. The thing said, “You failed before, foolish human. You’ll fail again.”

  “Success,” Jasper said, “is a judgement and not a fact. Come out and we will compare whatever comprises our judgements of the opposition.”

  The eyes sniggered. “Want me out, craven liar? You come in. There’s room in here for one more crap-ridden prick-sick idiot to cuddle the piss-addled drunk human already here. Make a good pair, you will. I pinch and I pull, but I’ll not kill the ignorant bugger until I’ve had my fun.”

  “Your own ignorance is evident,” Jasper said, almost crooning. “No human can enter another. To face me, you must come out. Or you are the craven drunk. Have you shared the brandy?”

  “Why come out, when you see me clear, and I see you. I’m stronger than you’ll ever be, human idiot.”

  “So sad perhaps,” Jasper answered, his voice soft again. “But I cannot pity you for the ignorance. Clearly you do not know the game I play.”

  “What?” demanded the eyes at once.

  “I cannot feed you,” Jasper replied, “while you are immersed within another.”

  “If I come out, you take me in?” The demon voice seemed confused.

  Tightening his clasp on Arthur’s head, Jasper pressed both thumbs to the temples, and although deeply unconscious, Arthur whined. It hurt him.

  I no longer needed to hold the wretch upright, and I sat, elbows on my knees, watching closely. I did not really know what was happening, but while watching and guessing, I supposed it was a form of exorcism. Yet I also knew that the beautiful Jasper was no priest. He acted with force, not with holy words or the raising of a small and holy cross. There was no torture, no cruelty and no anger. B
ut this very secret exorcism was to be achieved by force.

  Arthur’s momentary pain gave me a spiteful sting of pleasure. Of course, I hoped none of the staff would come this time and guessed they would mostly be in bed. Even the butler’s bedtime had passed, unless he was called. And he certainly wasn’t going to be called.

  Jasper continued, “The man you suck is a tyrant. Do you enjoy exaggerating a fool already as wicked as yourself? Or do you claim credit for the man’s entire range of talents?”

  “Why not?” demanded the demon. “I gobbled him when he was young, miserable little bugger. And it was me as gived him his appetites and his greedy tastes. Jollied himself in the usual human way, he did, when I found him and ate half his brain. He’s mine now, and I sit with joy when the bastard fucks his wife the only way he wants now I’ve eaten him from inside. And I ain’t leaving. You want me with you instead? Not interested, big boy. I’s happy as a louse in here.”

  “And if I kill the man you occupy? You will float freely but cold, needing to find another home more apt than before.”

  “Plenty folks ready out there,” sniggered the voice.

  But now Jasper pressed one hand down on the top of Arthur’s head, while the other hand slipped around his scrawny neck. “Out now,” Jasper breathed hot into Arthur’s ear. There was a scream, so shocking that I thought the staff would hear and come rushing. But the scream was swallowed back, and no one came.

  Those demon eyes sparked crimson flames.

  “Don’t try no tricks on me, pathetic human,” it said. “You can’t copy my riches, mortal boy. Go find another human to haunt.”

  But immediately Jasper opened Arthur’s mouth, thrusting it wide with four of his fingers. And then he leaned forwards and began to breathe into my husband’s throat. He blew hot air, and I saw something glisten with pain in those demonic eyes. I kept watching, and the thing’s eyes kept shrinking. I think it was a long time. We had no clock and nothing chimed from the corridor outside. But perhaps time stood still. Watching, blinking hard, it looked to me as if Jasper almost kissed that open gaping mouth of Arthur’s, lips to lips. Yet the snap of teeth to teeth and the cold power in Jasper’s eyes proved the gigantic and terrifying difference.