P N Elrod - Barrett 3 - Death Masque

by Death Masque(Lit)

  By their aghast expressions, I must have been a truly alarming vision. Two of them shrieked, threw up their hands, and dropped right in their tracks; the rest fell away and fled. As for the leader, just as he began to turn and look up toward the source of the disturbance, I vanished once more to leave behind a mystery that would doubtless confound them for some time to come.

  I remained in the area to descend upon the big fellow because I thought he deserved it. Quaking with cold and surly from his thrashing, he demanded an accounting from the two that remained, but did not get much sense from them. They talked of a flying ghost and how I'd swooped upon them breathing fire and screeching like a demon. He called them-correctly-drunken fools and stalked away. Like dogs at heel, they clattered after him, whimpering.

  Time to abandon the game. Doubtless they would comfort themselves with more drink and vent their displeasure upon some other person, but I'd had enough of their demeaning company. I surrendered my amorphous form to the wind and drifted away from the asses. When I judged myself well clear, I cautiously came back into the world, the caution derived from a wish to avoid frightening some undeserving soul into hysterics by my sudden appearance from nowhere.

  The street was empty of observers, unless I desired to count a pack of mongrel dogs. They were startled, but after a few warning barks, slipped off on their own business. A pity the Mohocks hadn't done the same, though I was feeling strangely cheered about the whole business. I'd bested eight of them, by God; what man wouldn't enjoy the triumph? My sudden boom of laughter echoed off the buildings and set the dogs to barking again. A not too distant voice called for me to keep the peace or face the wrath of the local watchman. An empty enough threat, but I was in a sufficiently genial mood to be forgiving and subside.

  I wondered at my good spirits, for except for finding Nora's cache of earth, this had been a singularly fruitless outing. Also, the loss of those two months still disturbed me mightily, though I'd been shy with myself in thinking about it. It seemed to mean a loss of control as well as a loss in time. Of the two, the lack of control over myself was the greater burden, but unpleasant as it had been, my success against these English vandals had altogether lightened it.

  Putting my clothes back into order, I made sure my money was intact and the tinderbox and snuff box were still in place. At least my attackers had not been pickpockets, but perhaps that fine talent was well beyond their limited skills. And just as well, for had it been necessary to reclaim my property, I'd no doubt that my return would have been greeted with much adverse excitement.

  London life certainly presented its dangers, but this time I was well pleased with the outcome, though my clothes had suffered. I reeked of beer. Jericho would have a few words to say to me, and Elizabeth would probably admonish me against further nocturnal rambles. Excellent thought, that.

  The extranormal activity was having its toll, leaving me feeling both shaken and wan. I wondered at this until recalling that I'd been as one dead for the last two months. Father's note concerning Roily had warned me to gently ease him back into exercise. The practice held true for a horse, then why not for a man? If so, then my venture to Convent Garden might be too much for my health. Tomorrow night, then, if I was up to it.

  Feet dragging, I pressed forward, seeking out what streets I'd used earlier, and took myself back to The Three Brewers Inn.

  I returned around four of the clock and made a short visit to the stables to look in on Roily. He was a little worse from his journey, thinner than he should be, but he'd been cared for if I could judge anything from his well-groomed coat. His teeth were fine and there was no sign of thrush on his hooves. He eagerly accepted an extra measure of oats I found for him, finishing it quickly and shoving his nose at me to ask for more. That was a good sign. Tomorrow night I'd see about giving him a stretch for his legs, but only a moderate one. He'd been without saddle or bridle for far too long.

  Before leaving I provided myself with a second supper from one of the other animals. Refreshed somewhat, I solved the problem of making a quiet entry to my room by once more employing my talent for walking through doors. Jericho was asleep, but he'd left a candle burning in a bowl of water against my return. On the verge of sputtering itself out, but I rescued it, putting it in a holder on the table.

  From my traveling box, I softly removed my cherry wood writing case, opened it, and sorted things. The ink had since dried, but there was plenty of powder to mix more using water from the bowl. For the next hour or more I was busy composing a short letter to Oliver and a much longer one for Father. In it, I detailed my various experiences concerning the crossing-or rather lack thereof-and my joyful gratitude to him for arranging to send Roily along. As for the cattle, Elizabeth said that five had died and their fresh meat had been gratefully consumed by the passengers and crew. The remaining seven were penned in a field near the inn, awaiting disposition.

  I'd been too much occupied with the voyage itself to think on what to do with the beasts upon arrival. Now I speculated it to be an excellent idea to continue the story we'd given the shippers and have the creatures bred to some of the Fonteyn stock. By the time Father arrived in England, I could have a fine herd well started for whatever future he chose to follow. There were plenty of opportunities for his practice of law here in the city, but others might also be made in the country should he want to resume farming again.

  My pen flew over quite a number of pages before I'd finished. It would cost more than a few pence to send this letter a-sailing, but no matter. Writing him was almost like talking to him, so I willingly drew out the conversation, closing it with a promise to write again as soon as we were settled with Oliver. I sanded, folded, and sealed it. On a bit of scrap paper I asked Elizabeth if she wanted to include some of her own thoughts before posting swept the packet away to America.

  By this time it was very close to dawn and people were well astir below as the inn began to wake. Jericho would probably soon be roused by the disturbance, and I had no desire for a whispered and possibly reproachful inquiry about the state of my clothes. I stripped out of them and into my nightshirt, raised the lid of the traveling box, and whisked inside, quick as a cat. Just as I lowered it, I heard his first waking yawn. Then I was incapable of hearing anything at all.

  Not until the day had passed, anyway.

  Jericho stood ready as I emerged, armed with my brushed-off coat, clean linen, and polished shoes.

  "Good evening," I said, full of cheer for my rest. "Any news from Cousin Oliver?"

  "Mr. Marling arrived some time ago. Miss Elizabeth did ask him to come by in an hour more suitable to your habits, but he stated that he couldn't keep himself in check a moment longer. Miss Elizabeth is presently with him in the common room below." There was a note of disapproval in his tone, probably to do with Elizabeth mixing with the rest of the herd. I knew my sister, though; she'd likely insisted on it herself.

  "Best not keep them waiting, then. I'm anxious to see him, too. It's been ages."

  "There was a strong smell of beer on your coat, Mr. Jonathan," he began.

  "Just a stupid accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not ruined, I hope?" I looked vaguely at the coat in question, which was draped over a chair.

  "I sponged it with vinegar and tried to air it, but the coal dust is so thick in this city, I feared-"

  "And quite right. London is a horribly dirty place, but it can't be helped. Have to hurry now, I don't want to keep

  Oliver waiting more than necessary." On went my stockings, up went my breeches, on went my shoes. Throughout this and without a word, Jericho managed to convey to me his knowledge that I wasn't being entirely forthright and that a reckoning was in store for me at his next opportunity. Coat in place and ready for the public, I fled downstairs.

  Oliver was as I remembered him, but for being a couple years older and even more fashionably dressed than during our Cambridge days. Same wide mouth, same bright blue eyes in a foolish face, and happily retaining a
certain genteel boisterousness in his manner. He knew well how to enjoy himself, but not to the point of causing offense to others, allowing the contradiction to exist.

  The second he spotted me coming in, he shouted a good, loud view-halloo in greeting and rushed over. There followed a hearty exchange of embraces and considerable slap-pings on the back with both of us talking at the same time about how pleased we were to see each other again. It took some few minutes before we were able to troop arm in arm back to the table he'd been sharing with Elizabeth, both of us grinning like apes, with the other occupants of the room looking on in amusement.

  "Thought you'd never show yourself," he said, resuming his seat across from her. "Which isn't to say that I'm not enjoying Cousin Elizabeth's company, far from it. Every man in the room has been throwing jealous looks my way since we've been here. I can't wait to take her around the town and make all the rest of the lads in our circle envious for my good luck."

  Elizabeth, though she lived up to his praise, had the decency to color a bit. "But I've no wish to impose-"

  "Oh, rot-that is, never you mind. I'd count it a distinct honor to introduce you. You can't get out of it, anyway. Since that letter your good brother sent arrived I've been able to speak of nothing else but your visit, and now everyone's mad to meet you. Both of you, of course. Jonathan's met most of 'em, but there's a few new faces in the crowd these days-some of 'em are even worth talking to."

  "God, but I've missed this," I said with warm sincerity.

  "And so have I, Cousin. Remember all those riots at Covent Garden and-er-tha-that is to say we had excellent good fun at the theater there."

  Elizabeth understood that he was making an attempt to protect her sensibilities, but took no exception to it. This time. After she got to know him better, he was likely to be in for something of a shock at just how much I'd confided to her about my previous time in England.

  "We'll have even more fun now," I promised.

  "I should hope so, enjoy everything you can while you're able. How long are you planning to stay, anyway?"

  "Elizabeth didn't tell you?"

  As an answer, she shook her head and shrugged. "We never got 'round to it."

  "Got 'round to what?" he demanded.

  "We're coming to live in England," I said. "For good."

  His wide mouth dropped fully open. "Well-a-day! But that's splendid news!"

  "I'm glad you think so, Cousin. We'll need your help finding a house-"

  "Well, you won't get it, my lad. The both of you are most welcome to live with me for as long as you like."

  "But you're being much too kind," said Elizabeth.

  "But nothing. It will be my pleasure to have the company of my two favorite relatives. It'll be like Cambridge again with us, Jonathan, except for the added delight of your sister's presence to grace the household."

  "And Jericho's," I added.

  "Yes, I'd heard that you'd brought this paragon of a man with you. Can't wait to meet him. Have you freed him yet?"

  "Freed him?"

  "We've slaves here, but the business isn't as popular as it is in America. The fashionable thing these days is freeing 'em. Of course, you'll have to pay him a wage, then."

  "I think I can afford it." The only reason I'd not done so before was that Mother would have insisted on then and there dismissing Jericho to replace him with an English-bred valet of her choosing. Though she no longer controlled my purse strings, she would have vigorously exercised her right as mistress of her own house, as well as made life a living hell until she'd gotten her way. Far better for everyone if Jericho remained my legal property until circumstances were more in his favor. Then he could himself choose to leave or not. Not that I harbored the least thought that he would ever forsake my service. We got on very well and I knew he enjoyed playing the despot within his sphere of influence, which was not inconsiderable.

  My cousin was chattering on about the splendid times we'd soon be having. "It may not make up for being parted from the rest of your family, but we'll do what we can to keep you in good cheer."

  "But, Oliver, it won't be just me and Elizabeth; our father is planning to move to England as well."

  "The devil you say! Oh, I do beg pardon, Elizabeth. The whole Barrett clan coming back to the homeland? That is good news."

  "It also means we still need to find a house."

  "But I've lots of room," he protested.

  "Not enough to accommodate your aunt Marie."

  At this mention of Mother-for I had written much to him about her over the years-Oliver's unabashed enthusiasm suddenly shriveled. "Oh, dear God."

  "More like the wrath of, Coz. You can see why we're eager to find a separate place for us to be than in your home."

  "Maybe she could stay at Fonteyn House," he suggested. "My mother will be glad to see her."

  Alone against the whole island of England, I thought, but then Aunt Fonteyn and Mother were cut straight from the same cloth. Human nature being what it is, they'd either despise each other or get along like the kindred spirits they were.

  "That's fine for Mother," said Elizabeth, "but what about Father? I can't see him living at Fonteyn House. Please forgive me, Oliver, but from some of the things I've heard said about Aunt Fonteyn..."

  Oliver waved both hands. "No forgiveness is needed, I do understand and have no blame for you. God knows I left the place as soon as I was able. She's a terrible woman and no mistake."

  "Elizabeth..." An idea popped into my head. "We're forgetting what it was like before."

  "Before what?"

  "Before Mother left Philadelphia to come live with us. She only came because of the danger in the city. There are no damned rebels at Fonteyn House-"

  "Only the damned," Oliver muttered darkly.

  "-they might go back to that again, with Mother in her own place and Father in his. Certainly they must. I'll lay you fifteen to five she proposes the idea herself once they've landed."

  "Good heavens, yes. After two months or more aboard ship, she'd leap at the chance to get away from him."

  "I say," said Oliver. "It doesn't exactly sound right, y'know, two children so enthusiastically talking about their parents parting from each other like that. Not that it bothers me, but I just thought I'd raise the point, don't you know."

  "But we aren't just anybody's children," she said, with meaning.

  "Yes, I see, now. This has to do with the Fonteyn blood, which taints us equally. Good thing I've my Marling half and you've the Barrett side to draw sense from, or we'd all be in Bedlam."

  That inspired some laughter, but in our hearts we knew he was speaking the grim truth.

  "Now what about a bit of food and a lot of drink?" he suggested. "They didn't christen this place in vain, y'know. Let's have a celebration."

  Elizabeth confessed that she was in need of supper, then shot a concerned look at me. I winked back, hoping to reassure her. Eyes sharp and lips compressed into a line, she understood my intent all too well. She then removed her gaze entirely. Ah, well, with or without her approval, it couldn't be helped.

  "You two may celebrate with my blessing," I said, "but I'm still unsettled from the traveling. Couldn't eat or drink a thing tonight."

  "Really?" said Oliver, brows rising high and making lots of furrows. "Perhaps I can prescribe something for you. There's got to be an apothecary nearby and-"

  "No, I'm fine in all other respects. I've had this before. It will pass off soon enough."

  "But really, you shouldn't let anything go untreated-" "Oliver..." I fixed my eyes on him. He blinked and went very still.

  "You need not concern yourself with my lack of appetite. It doesn't bother you now, and you need not ever notice it in the future. All right?"

  "Yes, of course," he answered, but without his usual animation.

  I broke my hold. Elizabeth was very still as well, but nodded slightly. She wasn't happy that I could influence people in this manner, but time and again-at least on the topic o
f my not eating-it prevented a multitude of unanswerable questions.

  "What will you have?" I asked Oliver. As I expected, he was absolutely unaware of what had happened.

  "Some ham, I think, if that's what smells so good here. Hope they cut it thicker than at Vauxhall. You'll love Vauxhall, Elizabeth, but it won't be open for months and months, but it's worth the wait even if their ham's so thin you can read a paper through it."

  He babbled on and she began to smile again. I called a serving lad over and ordered their supper. That task finished, I assumed another, more important one, the whole point of our long journey.