Dark Rapture

by Hauf, Michele

  “Mademoiselle.”

  Scarlet felt a gentle tug at her shoulder. She rolled over and looked up into Annalise’s deep brown eyes. She rubbed her own eyes and glanced toward the paned windows over the girl’s shoulder. It was growing dark. The yard light had been lit and the iron holder swung gently in the breeze. She realized that she must have slept for quite a while.

  “We will be serving dinner in half an hour. Monsieur Sebastian wanted me to tell you. Would you like help to get ready?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ve brought a dress for you.” Annalise laid an elegant cream satin dress across the huge bed.

  It was so fine, like spun gold and its collar and sleeves were covered in faux pearls the size of marbles. But they certainly did change clothes a lot around here, she mused, as she pulled herself up, pushing the bulk of her skirt down from her waist. Morning clothes, and dinner clothes, and then evening clothes.

  Feeling more comfortable with her surroundings, she leaned forward, pressing her elbows into her knees. “Perhaps you could stay to help me. I must look a sight.”

  After battling with Christelle.

  "Oui, mademoiselle.” The girl bowed her capped head and stood patiently waiting for Scarlet to get up.

  She could certainly get used to this hand- and-foot maid service. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and let the girl come around and untie her gown and slip it from her body. Her modesty level had taken a dive since she had been in this elegant world of servants and wealth. Now the girl helped her tighten her blue damask corset and slip into the gown she had brought with her, her eyes never meeting Scarlet’s.

  Once firmly stuffed into the lavish dress, Scarlet sat before the carved ebony vanity and watched as Annalise retouched her hair, pinning loose ends up and tucking them away within the mound of curls that crested the top of her head.

  Tilting her shoulders from side to side, Scarlet examined her reflection. She liked wearing her hair up, it looked elegant, and it made her face look slimmer, more graceful. The finishing touch of a cream velvet ribbon studded with tinier pearls encircled her neck.

  “Merci.”

  She dismissed the girl and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale with powder and her cheeks a blush of pink, the same as her lips. Did she really want this fantasy to end?

  “What am I doing here?” she asked herself. “History is being changed at this very instant, by me.”

  And now that she knew Christelle was not the vampire woman, she had her work cut out for her. Who carried the fateful bite?

  Half an hour passed and neither Sebastian nor Annalise had come for her, so Scarlet decided to venture to the dining room herself. She headed down the long upper hallway, not sure if the dining room was to the left or right or downstairs somewhere. Sebastian had whisked her through the various rooms so quickly this morning, she couldn’t be sure.

  Further down, past a large green marble bust of a man— possibly Greek, for he had laurels in his hair—Scarlet heard voices coming from behind a closed door. Men's voice spoke loudly at first, and then in hushed tones. She walked toward the door, stopping outside to listen before entering.

  Sebastian was speaking quietly, then another man answered loudly and with great authority. She clung to the wall and listened, hoping to hear what they were saying, and not wanting to interrupt should it be important.

  “If she is the one, then we shall make arrangements immediately.” Some papers shuffled. “And then you can be on your way.”

  Scarlet cringed, and tried to contain her skirts to keep them from rustling against the oak paneling.

  And then Sebastian spoke as one begging more time on debt. “Give me time. I have agreed to your rules thus far, but I cannot be rushed. She cannot be rushed. Not now.”

  She couldn’t understand the gist of the conversation, but she felt sure that Sebastian was not happy with whomever he was speaking to.

  “Father, I want him out of here now. This whole matter has taken entirely too long.”

  His father must be in there with him and perhaps the other voice was his older brother, Jacques. Scarlet pressed her ear close to the wall.

  “You have no say in this matter,” Sebastian spoke again.

  “Jacques has no say, this is true, but he is right. Take care of matters this evening. Say what you must to encourage this girl and I’ll notify your mother to begin the plans immediately.”

  “But, father—” Sebastian pleaded.

  “No. I have said all that I will. You agreed to this plan years ago, if you will remember. And now that the time has come, I’ll not have you backing out. Leave us to attend to your guest and your future.”

  Hasty footsteps neared the door. Stepping quickly down the hall, Scarlet hid behind a door to her right just as the other door creaked open.

  Awaiting certain discovery, she listened as the footsteps marched quickly down the hall past her and disappeared down the stairs. Then a door slammed loudly and she listened but heard no further footsteps. His father and Jacques must have remained in the room.

  She cracked the door open, wondering if she dared venture out with the two men still down the hall. The upper hall was empty and quiet, almost monastic with its dark wooden walls and stuffy sculptures silently mocking all who walked by. Going back in the direction she had come, she headed down the stairs to find Sebastian. All the while her curiosity pulled at her insides with much the same vigor the blood hunger did.

  She found him waiting by the dining room, where his mother and Gregoire and Francois were already seated around a long table talking quietly amongst themselves.

  Her heart jumped to attention upon seeing Sebastian, but settled to a quiver when she saw his face. It was drawn and solemn until he turned and laid eyes on her, but even then his smile seemed forced.

  “Elisabeth, I thought perhaps you had trouble finding the dining room. I was just on my way up to fetch you.” He kissed her hand, lingering long enough for her to feel his breath warm her skin. “You look radiant. I think of you every minute you are away from me.” He brushed a discreet kiss across her lips.

  “I’m sorry to have worried you.” She wondered if he suspected her spying escapade. “I guess I took a little long getting ready.” She glanced over his shoulder. Gregoire was explaining something to his mother and Francois, his hands flying about as he did. She stood on tiptoe and whispered into Sebastian’s ear, “I’ve missed you, too. I look forward to having you to myself later.”

  A genuine smile graced his lips. “Your thorns are showing, Elisabeth. As I have heard they were earlier with Christelle?”

  She grinned sheepishly, though he didn’t broach the subject further, and she was relieved when he took her hand and seated her next to Angelique at the dining table. At that moment two gentlemen entered and Sebastian stood erect.

  “Elisabeth, I’d like to introduce you to my father, Roland LeReaux, the duke of Mezieres and my brother, Jacques.” He bowed toward his father, who remained solemn-faced and merely nodded to her as if it were painful to smile. “Father, Mademoiselle Elisabeth Montrose.”

  “It is a pleasure to have you in our company this evening, mademoiselle.” His father bowed and took a seat on the other side of Angelique, while Jacques merely nodded her direction.

  Roland wore a short gray wig and his heavy jowls had been lightened to a blush. “I hope you’ve been kept comfortable during your stay?” he asked Scarlet solicitously.

  “Thank you, your Grace,” she said politely with a glance to Sebastian, who returned a quick smile. “I have.”

  It seemed to her that Roland LeReaux would be just as comfortable axing heads as chair of a corporate board meeting. His gruff voice and lack of a neck made him look like one of those bulldogs with the iron-studded leather collars. How could he have fathered someone so handsome as Sebastian?

  Glancing unobtrusively to Jacques and then to Gregoire, Scarlet wondered where the family resemblance was. While
the brothers’ features were thick and plump like their father’s, Sebastian’s thin nose and dark eyes and brows set him apart. Gregoire’s hair was a curly, sunny blond and Jacques’ a darker bronze. And while Roland concealed his with a wig, she felt sure it wasn’t black because his brows were light, almost blond. Angelique’s hair was gray, but perhaps hers had once been black. Curious.

  “So, you are to study music with your uncle this summer?” Roland lifted his chin to allow the servant to tuck a linen beneath his neck.

  “Yes. My uncle Vincent.”

  “And would I know this man?”

  “Umm, probably not. He’s quite obscure. He doesn’t perform in public,” she replied, hoping Sebastian’s father wouldn’t dig too deeply into his non-existent background.

  “Hmmpf.” He motioned for the tureen of gravy and the servant poured it across the beef on his plate. “More, don’t be so skimpy with it. That’s odd.” He glanced across the table at Scarlet, wrestling his food with knife and fork. “Doesn’t perform in public. Why not?”

  “Perhaps he’s tired of society’s pomposity and fixation on money and social standing,” Sebastian broke in. “Who in God’s name would want to parade themselves in front of the Paris elite only to have them gossip and laugh behind his back, or more likely, right to his face if he shouldn’t measure up to their so-called standards?”

  Roland stopped chewing and eyed his son as a vulture eyes the dying prey.

  “It would do you well to pay more attention to what the Parisians have to say about what goes on and who is on top. Look at your brother.” Roland swung his fork Jacques’ way, throwing a trail of brown gravy across the lace cloth, and Scarlet clutched her hands beneath the table. “He’s being received at court in two weeks. Makes a father proud. And what have you to show for your meanderings and romance with music?”

  “Roland.” Angelique looked quickly to Scarlet. “It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

  The duke responded with a nod and a chomping jaw. “No, it doesn’t. Not a bit.” He swallowed a gulp of wine and smiled sweetly at Scarlet. “Mademoiselle, you must excuse my son’s loose tongue. It does not come from me. So, Jacques . . .”

  The rest of the meal he ignored Sebastian and maintained a hushed conversation with Jacques.

  Taking Sebastian’s sigh as a cue to lift her spoon, Scarlet dipped into the consomme, not feeling a bit hungry. Over the wide rim of her spoon she watched Roland deliberately shower attention on Jacques.

  She dared not talk after Roland’s outburst and merely followed Sebastian’s lead as he guided her through light conversation about last night’s party, but she could tell that he was on edge about something. From the corner of her vision, she was keenly aware of the icy stare she received from Jacques.

  When the last of the plates were cleared by the servants, brandy was brought and glasses were poured for the men.

  “Elisabeth,” Angelique rose and extended her hand. “Let’s leave the men alone. I’ll walk you out to the garden. It’s simply delightful at this time of night, with all of the fragrances hanging in the air. You won’t mind will you, Sebastian?”

  He nodded and winked at Scarlet and then looked immediately to Roland who merely huffed then motioned for the footman to fill his glass again.

  Not wanting to cause a fuss, Scarlet took Angelique’s hand and with a glance at Sebastian’s lowered face, she left the men behind.

  Angelique held her hand tightly as they walked, but she didn’t speak, making Scarlet even more uneasy. Why was everyone so tightlipped around here? Or was that their usual manner? She wanted to ask Angelique questions. She needed to know. Something was not right between Sebastian and his father. They passed through the entrance hallway and glided across the empty ballroom, their skirts swishing over the black and white tiles.

  “Madame LeReaux—”

  “Madame!” Annalise ran up behind the two of them and Angelique turned, her face growing instantly long. “You must come, it’s my mama, she’s ill again. Please, you must see her.”

  "I’ll be there immediately.” Angelique patted the girl’s shaking hand and turned to Scarlet. “You must excuse me. The poor girl’s mother has not been well lately. I’ve been keeping watch over her but I’m afraid we’ll have to call for a doctor to have her bled. I’ll return if I can.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Go on. I’ll wait for Sebastian in the garden.”

  Angelique gave her arm a squeeze and she rustled off with the girl to tend to her mother.

  Alone for the moment, Scarlet stood at the edge of the great ballroom listening to the crystals tinkle in the wind. She’ll have to be bled. “Hmm, maybe I should have gone with them?”

  She laughed at her gruesome humor and stepped out into the garden. The candles were lit again tonight and the whole yard was a fantasy land of topiary shrubs and bright flowers dancing across the sparkling pools. The water was still pink but maybe that was the color it was all the time.

  Scarlet swayed gracefully from side to side, watching her skirts fan out over the thick green carpet of fragrant grass. The stars were out in full force, floodlights shining down on her debut performance as a princess. Skirts in hand at her waist, she curtsied gracefully to the stone merman who spewed rosy water from his conch shell. Seeing he had no desire to dance, she wandered over to the iron bench and put her arms across the back, looking up to the sky.

  It would be a dream to stay here and spend the rest of her life with Sebastian. A princess bride, she would wear the finest silk and satin, and piles of precious jewels. She’d receive only the most elegant visitors, and never do anything for herself; that was what servants were for.

  But it was only a dream. She didn’t belong here and she knew it. Unfortunately she had no idea how to return home. She gazed up at the stars, hoping to find an answer, but her concentration was broken by a familiar voice over her shoulder. She turned with Sebastian’s name on her lips, but stopped abruptly before she could speak it.

  “So, will the two of you be taking up residence in Paris or will you be moving to your family’s home?”

  It wasn’t Sebastian, though Jacques’ voice sounded much like his. “What do you mean?”

  “After you’re married is what I mean. Will you be living with your family?”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what all this talk of marriage is about. I have no plans to marry.”

  Jacques produced a sad face but couldn’t hide the wicked glower in his eyes. There was something about him, so different from Sebastian, yet equally as compelling.

  “I’m sorry to have spoiled my brother’s plans. It seems I’ve beaten him to the question. No matter. With his marriage, my dear brother Sebastian will be gone. I shall be rid of him at last.” He spoke with complete disregard. And the way he crushed the word ‘brother’ between his teeth made Scarlet shiver.

  “Rid of him? How can you speak of your brother that way?” She repeated the word, giving it the warmth it deserved.

  Jacques placed his fingers over her lips, the lace around his wrist irritating her chin. She stepped back but he quickly took her by the arm, holding her firmly in place.

  “Your own brother?” She persisted, searching for a glint of humanity in his eyes. There was nothing but a confident stare.

  “How naive you are, my lovely child with the radiant eyes.” Jacques’ face was so close to her he could have kissed her, but she sensed he had a more evil plan in mind. “He’s not my flesh and blood.”

  Just then, Jacques stepped back and Scarlet was able to see behind him. Sebastian marched toward them, anger blazing across his face.

  “What are you doing out here, Jacques?” The two men stood toe to toe and glared at each other like dogs squared to fight over a prized bone.

  “I was keeping Elisabeth company while you were detained,” Jacques said coolly, smiling slyly at her as she struggled to compose herself. “You wouldn’t want her out here by herself, would you?”

  Sebastian tu
rned to her, the anger in his eyes melting to concern. “Did he touch you?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “You see, I’ve been the perfect gentleman.” Jacques bowed to her and turned to leave. “Seems I might have spoiled the surprise, though.” With an evil smile, he left the two of them under the stars.

  Sebastian put his hands on her arms and looked her quickly up and down as if she might fall apart if he let go of her. “You’re all right, then? I didn’t mean to leave you alone, I thought my mother was with you.”

  “Sebastian, I’m fine, really. Your mother was called away to help a sick woman, but your brother . . . The things he said.”

  “What did he say to you?” His eyes darted back and forth across her face. For the first time he seemed nervous.

  “It’s not just him, your mother, too. Everyone has been talking of marriage as if they knew something that I don’t. And then Jacques spoke so rudely of you, as if he wished you were gone.”

  Sebastian wrapped his arms around her. He clung so desperately, as if he was seeking refuge in her arms.

  “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what? Sebastian, I’m very confused.”

  “Sit down.” He gestured to the bench. “I have some things to tell you, and when I’m through, I pray that you’ll still feel the same way about me as I do you.”

  Thinking that whatever he had to say couldn’t be much worse than what she could tell him about her situation, Scarlet sat and he knelt next to her on the ground. He took her hands in his and held them on her lap, a beautiful man lost in the throes of some insurmountable grief. He bowed his head and the ribbon that bound his hair fell to the side by his neck, where fine strands of black blew in the evening air. He looked up.

  “Elisabeth, first I want you to know something.”

  “What is it? Are you in trouble?”

  He laughed softly, “It’s nothing like that. I want you to know, before I say any more that, well . . .” He gazed directly into her eyes as she waited patiently for him to speak, knowing that she could stare into his eyes for an eternity if she had to.