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Secrets of Wolverton Manor: Episode Two
Taken With You (a BBW Billionaire Romance) based on Jane Eyre
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Chapter One: Edmund
The sun threatened to emerge over the top of the manor house even as Edmund made his mad dash for the servants’ entrance. He was in a full sprint now as he liked to make a competition of it, beating nature at her own game. But this was cutting it close, even for him. In a flurry of motion, he threw the door open, winning the race by mere inches. He laughed quietly to himself. “Not a thing to worry about,” he said under his breath.
“What’s that?” asked a rumbling, deep voice coming from the doorway to his right.
“It was nothing, Mr. Cameron,” Edmund replied, forcing his mind to return to the professional mindset of a member of the household staff. The butler, his superior, was not to be trifled with and however necessary Edmund’s night out had been, he had no excuse for returning so late and risking so much.
Mr. Cameron was old. He was in fact the senior member of the staff at three-hundred years of age, though he didn’t look a day over fifty. Like the rest of the under stairs dwellers he was a vampire, his mortality having been put to a stop soon after his fifty-first birthday.
“Well, Edmund,” he said, emerging from his room. As always, he was perfectly attired and pristinely presented, even at this early hour. “Are you sorted for today? There are to be two young men and two young women staying for a fortnight, remember.”
“Yes, sir. I’m to look after the young gentleman coming in. A Mr. Harrington, I believe it is.”
“Very good. See that everything is in order. Oh---have you seen Ida?”
“I haven’t, not this morning. I’m sure that she’s up with Lady Victoria.”
“Right, as well she should be. Off you go then.”
Edmund appeared to be all of twenty-three, and he was a handsome thing. He had high cheekbones and a tall, lean body. It was not at all uncommon for visiting ladies to eye him hungrily, even to hope to create a small scandal with him. The only hunger he had for them, on the other hand, was to do with the contents of their veins, and in this regard he managed to ignore them in favour of the greater good of the household. The gentleman visitors, on the other hand, interested him greatly in rather a more carnal sort of manner.
As he rushed down the hall, he nearly collided with Mrs. Jones, the housekeeper.
“Edmund,” she said reproachfully, eyeing him, “you’ve been out in the sun.”
“No, I swear that I wasn’t. Not really. I got in just as it…”
“I don’t want to hear another word. No more of this…this racing against time. You put the entire staff at risk each time you do it. Honestly, such behaviour from the footman of a noble house. What would we do today if your skin were burned? What would his Lordship say? The very least you could do is make sure to use Mrs. Drake’s balm.”
“Yes, Mrs. Jones. I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones,” said the young-looking man, bowing his head contritely.
“Go on now, get to work,” she said. “This will be the busiest day we’ve had in some time.”
Edmund made his way into the kitchen, eager to grab a bite to eat before properly setting to work. His night of roaming had given him something of a human appetite, as it was wont to do, and after all, the guests were not to arrive for hours.
“Mrs. Drake, is there anything to eat?” he asked the voluptuous cook, who was in the process of gutting some sort of fowl.
“Ask Alice for a pastry. You missed breakfast, of course, you silly thing,” she said, her cheeks flushed more than any vampire’s had any business being. She had a soft spot for young Edmund.
“Alice, can you help a fellow out?” he asked, crossing the room to the young kitchen maid.
“There are some scones on the plate there, by the bowl of flour. Mind you only take one, now.”
“Thanks, you’re a good girl,” Edmund said, grabbing the largest of them. He sat leaning over the table as he ate it, not wanting to drop crumbs on his livery.
“Say, Mrs. Drake, I’m going to be needing some of your special vampire balm,” he smiled at the cook.
“Oooh, Edmund, you know you shouldn’t say that word in this house.”
“I don’t think ‘balm’ is such a bad word, now is it?” he replied.
“You know what I mean. Remember that we have guests showing up. Words that begin with ‘v’ are not to be uttered.”
“Vest. Valet. Veranda…” he began.
“Watch it,” said Alice, “or you’ll make her vvvery vvviolent.”
“She could never be angry with me. Could you, Mrs. Drake?”
“I could find a way, to be sure,” she laughed.
“Say, has either of you ever been burned?” Edmund asked as he shoved the last of the scone into his mouth.
Mrs. Drake and Alice exchanged looks. Sometimes they forgot that the young man was rather new to the manor, and so he hadn’t heard the tales that had accumulated over the decades.
“Not by the sun, no,” said Mrs. Drake. “But several years before your time, there was a lad who got it something fierce from being outside at the wrong time.”
“And what happened to him?”
“I can tell you that his Lordship was none too pleased. Threatened to send him off to find a new job, with no references. Can you imagine, one of us looking for such a job? He’d have been lucky to end up a chimney sweep.”
“And so? Did he leave?”
“Eventually he did, but not because of that incident. Fact is, the skin does heal. But best not to get the burns in the first place. A footman is mostly for show, remember, and as such he should look presentable at all times.”
“I suppose. I forget sometimes that we’re lucky to have these positions in service. I wonder why his Lordship’s family ever thought it a good idea to take in vam---I mean, folk like us?”
“Well, I wasn’t around for it, but several generations ago an ancestor of his was the first to take some of our kind in. One of ours helped him, you see. Saved him from being drained of his blood by another…v-word. One seeking revenge on him, since as you know we don’t generally go after the blood of their ilk.
“The old Duke never forgot it, and his kin have been loyal ever since, which is nothing to take lightly, because their kind usually doesn’t take kindly to ours, as you know. That said, I’ve no doubt that if we irritated his Lordship upstairs sufficiently, he’d happily kick us all out. So we all must persevere and do what’s best for the house.”
“It’s not right, you know,” said Alice, who’d been listening intently. “Our folk shouldn’t be the lowest members of society, as we are. We should be the aristocrats. We’re elegant and beautiful, and they’re, well…”
“Oh, you do go on,” said Mrs. Drake. “You may have noticed that beauty and elegance have nothing to do with it. And we’re far from the lowest of the low; there’s honour to working in service, there is. I suppose if one of us got very lucky indeed, he or she may end up marrying above their station. But you can’t be surprised when society re
jects us. Best to remember our place. It doesn’t matter what they are upstairs. Human or not, they have their position and we have ours. There’s no need to get uppity about it.”
“I heard once about a young maid here---one of our kind---who got herself caught up with a visiting Earl. Is that the truth?” asked Edmund, knowing that gossip was a good way to diffuse tension between ladies.
Mrs. Drake’s serious tone became grave. “Aye, it’s true. It was long ago and it was a mistake. Still, she paid the price, and the family had their way with her. You know how his Lordship feels about scandal. It’s important, always, to behave ourselves. That girl made the mistake of showing her true colours, if you know what I mean. Biting an earl; what a fool she was.”
“Well, I suppose if we’re going to get up to no good, we must at least conceal it from their prying eyes,” said Edmund, smiling.
Alice laughed. Mrs. Drake did not.
“Edmund, remember your position. Don’t you ever go and do anything I wouldn’t do. And never underestimate the strength of the family of the house. They are a powerful lot, and could take you down faster than a herd of elephants.”
“Oh, I can’t imagine that I’d ever do anything you wouldn’t, Mrs. Drake,” said Edmund, thinking about the young man he was to tend to that afternoon and wondering if the cook would ‘do’ him. “Don’t you worry your lovely head. But you know, it’s an odd thing, trying to live this life where we go out and find victims at night, and yet pretend that everything is normal in this place. It seems to me like a scandal waiting to happen. There’s a good deal of risk involved for all of us when we run off, looking for blood.”
“There’s no real risk of scandal,” said Alice. “No one would believe it if the rumour began to spread. Not like someone eloping with the gardener. People love to devour those rumours like beef. But blood-suckers living under stairs? Not likely a tale that would go very far. You know that most consider vamp—I mean our kind---a myth.”
“Speaking of all of that, did you have any luck last night, Edmund?” asked the cook.
“I had enough,” said the footman, smiling. “Found an old codger living on his own and I left him unconscious but alive. He had so many wrinkles that no one will ever find the puncture wounds.”
“Good lad. The old ones are the best sort. Even if they go rambling about a stranger breaking into their homes, the townsfolk just assume they’ve gone mad.”
“Yes, always best to go for those sorts, but one of these days I would so love to sink my teeth into some young flesh,” said Edmund. “And close by. It’s an ordeal, having to run off to neighbouring towns when Dunston is so close at hand.”
“You know we can’t take the risk of any incident being traced back to this house,” said Mrs. Drake. “Now off with you, young thing. Get working. I hear that there are some handsome young ladies coming today.”
“I’m far more interested in the handsome young gentlemen,” thought Edmund, who grabbed another scone before either woman could stop him and darted out of the room.
Chapter Two: Ida
Ida pulled the brush gently through Lady Victoria’s thick head of hair, humming as she did so. This daily ritual was pleasant and relaxing for them both, and her mistress had always been kind in spite of Ida’s social inferiority, which would make many aristocrats treat her like a gutter snipe. But not the Lady; she regarded Ida almost as a friend, and certainly as a confidante. Ida probably knew more about Victoria than anyone on the planet, and there was a tight bond between them in spite of their apparent incompatibility.
“Ida,” Lady Victoria asked as her maid pulled her hair back and began to style it, “Sometimes I wonder: are you quite happy?”
“Yes, my lady. That is to say, I’m not unhappy.”
“But you are, what? Over a century old by now? And forgive me for saying so, but you’re alone, aren’t you?”
“That depends, I suppose, on your definition of ‘alone,’ doesn’t it, my lady?” smiled Ida.
Lady Victoria laughed. “Yes, I suppose it does. In some ways you’re very likely never alone. Papa does like to keep a large staff.”
“And I’m glad of it,” said Ida. “There are fifty of us below stairs, and it does keep life interesting, between that, hunting, and keeping an eye on your family.”
“Yes, we are a rather unusual household, aren’t we? Who ever heard of your kind and ours living under one roof? What do you suppose might happen if we were ever found out?”
“We wouldn’t be, my lady. But I reckon if we were, there would be a high price to pay.”
“For us or for whomever discovered our secrets? That’s the real question,” said Lady Victoria pensively as Ida tightened her corset. “I don’t suppose any of us would allow an informant to live long.”
“No,” Ida smiled. “I don’t suppose we would. But never fear. The secrets remain safe within these walls.”
“Do you ever wish you’d been born a normal person?” Victoria looked at Ida in the mirror. Contrary to popular belief, vampires do have reflections.
“I was born normal, my lady,” said Ida, a serious tone creeping into her voice.
Lady Victoria’s own voice softened then. “Yes, of course you were. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t. I wasn’t thinking.”
“But,” the maid seemed to perk up now, “had I remained so I would long since be dead.”
“Your kind and your immortality. What a strange life it must be.”
“It’s fairly typical, really. Aside from the hunting, we live normal lives for the most part.”
“Yes, quite. And my family is also quite typical. Aside from our propensity for shifting into wolves, in particular when the moon is full. Unlike you, I was born anything but normal, wasn’t I?”
Ida smiled sympathetically at her.
“My lady,” said the maid, tightening her mistress’s corset now, “I’ve always wondered: it seems to me that your kind lives a long time as well, don’t you?”
“Yes, we do age slowly. But obviously there’s not a stop to our aging as there is with yours. It’s simply that we stay young-looking longer. But I suspect that one day the wrinkles will set in.” Victoria looked at her reflection and pinched her cheeks, creating a rosy glow that starkly contrasted the white of Ida’s flesh. “What an odd fate we’ve all been exposed to. I’m rather glad, you know, that you’re all downstairs. Having a mortal human staff would be awkward, to say the very least.”
“Quite right, my lady.”
Ida’s expert hands made sure that Lady Victoria was quickly clothed and looking very becoming for the day ahead. Her blue silk dress brought out the light colour of her large eyes, which were ringed with dark lashes. Her human form was very like her wolf form, she knew. Sleek, pretty and even stylish, if one can apply such a word to a prowling canine.
“Well, I suppose I shall charm the young male visitors, won’t I?” she said, laughing as Ida smoothed out her the back of her dress.
“I’m sure you shall, my lady,” said the maid, beaming with pride at her mistress’s beauty. The family members didn’t have the sculpted, angular features of the vampires, but there was an elegance and a softness to them which made them striking in their own way. “Will there be anything else?”
“No. Thank you, Ida.”
The maid headed downstairs to see about further chores to be completed. Never was there a lack of work, and certainly not when visitors were imminent. Often she lent a hand when things became busy, helping to clean silver or fix bed linens with the other maids; she was an expert at all of it, having had decades of experience.
As she wandered down to the servants’ quarters she pondered Lady Victoria’s question. Lonely? She admitted to herself that occasionally she was just that. There was companionship to be had in the house, and plenty of it. And Ida shared a room with Lucy, a younger chambermaid who had only recently been turned. She was a beautiful girl of nineteen when she’d been given the gift of immortality, or
the curse, depending on how it was perceived by those above and below stairs.
Ida knew that Lucy regarded her as a sort of mentor, and she did her best to set a good example, from her behaviour in the house to her hunts. It was important to instruct the newer vampires on the protocol involved in seeking victims, and Ida had taken Lucy under her wing in this regard, even accompanying her on her first blood-sucking adventures. Only recently had she begun to allow Lucy to hunt on her own, and then only after warning her that difficulties would present themselves.
“There are times,” she’d said, “when you’ll forget that you’re an immortal who seeks blood. Trust me, you will. You’ll convince yourself that once again, you’re the polite young girl that you were, and you may even think yourself somehow cured. But one day you will find yourself drawn to a person, and everything will fall by the wayside as you become obsessed with how to extract their blood from their body. It is that desire that you must learn to fight.”
Though she was not lacking for company, Ida had gone without romantic love for some time. As a young woman before her change she had fallen in love once with a farmhand from her family’s village. He was a simple man, and a kind one. In retrospect, Ida knew that he was quite dull and that she had simply been inexperienced in those days. Having now lived for so many decades, she had been witness to some great love affairs and had grown to appreciate the notion of true, passionate love, and the fleeting nature of it. Among mortals love seemed never to last long. Even if both man and woman managed somehow to find themselves married, at some point the feelings would fade away and be replaced by the practical exchanges of daily life. The only true romance came in the form of people who were not allowed to be together.
Society created these situations all the time; this was why footmen fell in love with princesses and maids with earls. There was a great attraction to those people who were not meant to touched, and it could at times be all but irresistible.
Among vampires, attraction took on a whole new dimension. Everyone was forbidden to a bloodsucker after all. One practical convenience of living in a house of werewolves, though, was that the vampires had no interest in them, sexual or otherwise. Their blood held no appeal; no more than a dog’s. In some regards there was even a snobbery from the pale below stairs residents, though, thought Ida, most of them were never foolish enough to acknowledge it aloud.
The Secrets of Wolverton Manor (paranormal shifters and vampires) (Victorian Werewolves and Immortals) Page 1
