“It will be no use.” Katarina’s teeth chattered.
They heard no more. Émile urged on the nervous horses, glaring about them. Once Sophie thought she saw a flash of grey some hundreds of yards off.
As they left the mountains behind, coming down towards Llangynhafal and, Sophie supposed, relative safety, she clutched the basket with the bottle of wine concealed at the bottom. “Émile, I know you wish to have us home as soon as may be, but I know too Morwenna would wish for me to stop off at the church to pray for her.”
Her conscience pricked her, though she was telling part of the truth.
Naturally, he looked indignant and harried, making a dismissive gesture. Then, muttering sullenly, he drew the trap to a stop and handed her down. “Be quick about it, Sophie.”
He was too preoccupied to take notice of Katarina’s own version of his Inscrutable Look as she jumped down too.
Sophie sighed with relief that he made no offer to accompany them. Certainly, there was nobody about to hold the horses, yet Sophie wondered if he could have come in had he wished.
The household was in uproar. Émile loped about angrily trying to find his duelling pistols. He was obstructed by Katarina and Sophie pursuing him with tears. Georges stood by grinning savagely, while Agnes shook out the cloaks.
“Mr Kit!” Émile roared through the door leading to the kitchens. “Where is the rogue?” He turned to where the youngest footman was enjoying the drama. “Go and find him, boy. Katarina, let go my coat-tails, this becomes annoying!”
“I must speak with you, Monsieur Émile.” Sophie sniffed.
“Who?! Tres bien, Sophie. Katarina, leave me be! Go for some soup or I shall become angry.”
“Come then.” Agnes led Katarina toward the kitchens. Émile took Sophie by the elbow – reminding her of their first meeting at Plas Uchaf – and opened the door to the little sitting room.
Sophie gasped, “I fear in your anger you will try and destroy Kenrick, and it will end by his destroying you. What point to take a pistol? That book says –”
He stalked about, seemingly once more tempted to take kicks at the fire. “A weapon may come in handy with the lately human footman, anyway. I have no choice but to go there, my girl, if only to protect your stubbornly human self. Kenrick meant this as a warning to me you will be next, and I cannot endure it. It was easier for him to enter my Cousin’s, that is all. Katarina may seal the house against them, but did not Mackenzie gain entrance?” He breathed hard.
‘It only takes another member of staff accepting a bribe for either Mackenzie – not being human, ere now he will already have recovered his headache - or Kenrick or Madame to gain entrance. Katarina tells me the ritual makes it more difficult only. They can still enter after repeated invitation.” He paused. “Either I go there, or I send you to Madame de Courcy’s in Brighthelmstone, along with Agnes and Katarina.”
“Oh, no, Émile! I would never leave you in the midst of all this. I do so feel for you and want to help you; you do not wish to be rid of me?” Sophie’s tears began to stream and she groped for her handkerchief.
He came over to take her in his arms. “Of course not! Your monster still adores you, but there is no time for this now.” He searched in his pockets and handed her his own handkerchief, then kissed her.
Sophie blew her nose. “But what might She not do?”
“You do not think I go there for the pleasure of That Jade’s company? I can think of nothing sweeter than her serving me as she did before.”
“She is so sinister.” And beautiful. “Kenrick will have you join him in those dreadful experiments. You will not say what you have been about in your study, but for sure you are working on similar lines.”
“It would be hard for me to explain to a non-mathematician. Besides, I think you happier not knowing, ma chère. The thought of Kenrick getting to you brings me out in a cold sweat. Which is it to be? Do you stay here or must I pack you off to safety elsewhere?”
“So, you are already become the husband and master rather than the lover and order me? I implore you not to go to that place.”
He chucked her under the chin. “I am sorry to have to turn down any request of yours. Do not fret, chérie. From your fussing, anyone would think me still human.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “About the remedies for Morwenna, Émile –”
He bit his lip. “The remedies for Morwenna, Sophie, will most likely be the – the –” he was unable to continue.
Sophie knew it was not just horror at the thought of a stake being driven through Morwenna’s heart which stopped him.
He went on, “Surely even you accept now, ma pauvre petite, those miserable herbs are useless? Doubtless poor Ynyr will add to her misery by dosing her with them himself, poor girl. To think of her being taken by that slug Kenrick of all people! My spies have let me down, giving me no warning of his return. Alors, Kenrick shall not get at any of my other humans…Wherever is that rogue?”
Eyes wild, he dashed out.
Georges strolled up to Émile as he thrust his second duelling pistol into his belt. “Them weapons won’t be any use, as you couldn’t do for Mackenzie.”
“If I can cut him up good it will be something.”
“This ain’t sensible, Gilles; there’s two of ‘em, and stronger than you, having been changed longer. Wait until we find Kit, and then I’ll come too and we stand a chance. Not you alone.”
“I’m not waiting. Stay and mind the humans. I expect more trouble in that quarter.”
“As you like, Gilles, but Kit can’t be far. If you ain’t back by half after three, I come after you like to your nursemaid.”
“Make sure and put on your bonnet, then, Georges.”
As ever, no birds sounded or stirred in the grounds of Plas Cyfeillgar as Émile rode into the deserted courtyard. Snowflakes danced about as he tethered his horse, which rolled its eyes and stamped.
Émile kicked the front door, roaring, “Kenrick!” Flecks of paint fell to the doorstep. Émile kicked it and roared again.
There was the flicker as of distant lightening, and Kenrick stood by Émile, smiling gleefully and holding a savage knife. “Dubois, Gilles Long Legs or Monsieur Gilles: you wish for a sordid brawl rather than a proper duel? No pistols?” He was trying to catch Émile’s gaze while Émile avoided his.
Émile fondled his cutlass. “Either.”
Kenrick clicked his tongue, then began moving about Émile in a sort of dance of wariness, giggling. He did not have Émile’s muscular development, yet he moved with the agility of a great cat.
‘I take it this temper outburst is due to my having feasted on that haughty beauty Miss Llewelyn. Monsieur, has the little puss you married told you how once I came to her by night? Her breath unluckily reeked so of garlic, it made me ill. I trust she excludes it from her diet since your marriage? Did you pull up her skirts for a diversion in this out of the way place? Did Her Ladyship take a moral stance, and instead of casting her off, insist on your marrying her? Is there really to be a premature heir? Yet, I think the delightful tales that circulate overlook how short a time you stayed at Plas Uchaf.” His eyes were calculating grey marbles as he assessed Émile.
During Kenrick’s speech Émile changed colour several times over, his fingers tightening on the knife handle. “Come on!”
Kenrick giggled, staring into Émile’s face. “You think to kill me, but cannot. You are no longer human enough to repeat what you did to Mackenzie in a vulgar brawl; we cannot fight at close quarters. I am too much the gentleman – something I am sure evades your understanding – to accept a challenge from you, knowing that I could drop you with an ordinary shot and remain unscathed myself, for you could not endure the vicinity of that miserable ore you would need for shot to finish me.”
Émile’s breath came quickly.
Kenrick sniggered again. ‘I would enjoy killing you, were a disgraceful end at Tyburn not the deterrent to me it clearly is not to you. Besides, one w
ould have the misfortune to survive many hanging attempts. Why, one would have to be beheaded or drawn* to put an end to ones’ torment.
‘I despise a rake and you are a criminal besides, unable to keep your hands off other men’s wealth or their wives’ privates. Gentleman of the Road? You and that man of yours were cut throats in the gutters of Paris. But I need you for my experiments.”
“No more talk.”
“Let me demonstrate, you fool!” Kenrick jumped forwards, slashing at Émile’s face.
Even as he moved and Émile lunged to parry the thrust, they both came up against an invisible force. Émile struggled against it, while Kenrick turned and put away his knife. “Do you see now, Gilles Long Legs? Even days since, you couldn’t kill Mackenzie, only injure him, and now you cannot even do that to me. When you came here to kill me, savage as you are, did it not occur to you what fate awaited your humans did you lose the fight?”
Émile thrust away his knife and patrolled about, looking fit to choke with rage. “I didn’t intend to lose or to finish at Tyburn, but now you have me over a barrel. If I don’t come in with you, you will batten on my other humans. Yes, I could send them away – but you might find them out.”
Kenrick drew back. “I overlook your coarse manner of expressing yourself. As you lived long amongst ruffians, doubtless you have got out of the way of civilised manners. Say rather if you work with me, then I give you my word as a gentleman the remaining humans in your household will be safe from me and mine.”
Émile looked unimpressed. “Does that include Mackenzie?”
“I cannot answer for that wild beast Mackenzie. I don’t believe even the British Admiralty can control him. He is become a nuisance with his obsession with my wife. I would you had killed him in your little fracas. Could he, he would have killed me long ere this.”
He sniggered again. “Miss Morwenna’s blood was a fine claret on my tongue. You breathe heavily, Monsieur Gilles. Your fury over her is territorial instinct merely, when for sure you have begun to bite yourself. Undead, she will be more powerful than we, and what matter if humans do not approve the change?”
Émile stalked about some more. Then he stopped and spoke flatly. “If you can send me on these jaunts through time, why need you my help?”
Kenrick stared. “What? You have had that also?”
Émile looked back expressionlessly between his eyes.
Kenrick strode about himself in his excitement, rubbing his hands. “I did not send it you, Monsieur. There is a leak of power, some extraordinary warp. In my study last night, I was pulled back through time and space to when and where I have been trying to reach. This renders you the more necessary to me, as it may not last, and to exploit it so I can travel at will must entail tightening the mathematical approach.”
Émile stood prodding at the boot scraper with one toe. Finally, he looked up. “Let us get on with it. The weather is bitter. I must stable my horse.”
Kenrick smiled; with his cold eyes and long teeth, he looked more savage than when angry or morose. He wrenched the bell rope by the door. For once, his call was answered speedily; a bitter looking elderly man trotted through the courtyard door.
“See to Monsieur’s horse, fellow.” Kenrick moved to the side door through which Émile and Georges had entered. “Come in. I must trouble you for your pistols and cut-throat’s blade, to avoid accidents.”
Émile walked away some paces. “I have no choice.” He turned about. “Catch!” He tossed the knife to Kenrick.
Kenrick fumbled his snatch at the handle, grazing one finger so as to draw blood. He let the knife clatter to the ground, cursing. “That was foolish, Monsieur Giles. I might have construed it as an attack and fired on you, for unlike myself, you will yet be vulnerable to gunshot wounds.”
Émile watched Kenrick as he staunched the blood. Kenrick bared his teeth again. “Think you now how tempting this blood must be, were it only human?” He stooped to retrieve the knife and Émile handed him his pistols. Kenrick said, “Enter!” and they went into the icy corridor leading to the back of the house, Kenrick moving catlike ahead of Émile.
“I am in my laboratory today. Do not trouble about Williams; he is the confidential servant, like to your fellow ruffian. He entertains us with the latest news; it was he told us of your hasty marriage. I must needs have him stand guard should you be tempted to mischief.”
The muscular, fair-haired Arthur opened the laboratory door, sneering. While Kenrick locked that heavy door, the footman went over to unlock a narrow one leading off, which led to a small storeroom. Here he put the knife on a shelf, retaining Émile’s pistols. He came back, locking the door and stood aside watching them, one pistol trained on Émile. “I like these, Master Kenrick. I think I shall use them instead of mine.”
Kenrick giggled. “Understand, Monsieur Gilles, gunshot remains deadly to a new Man Vampire for a while. Therefore, beware.” He giggled again at Émile’s look of suppressed rage. “I lock the door, for here I think you will find again a force keeps a novice Man Vampire like yourself from turning tail by dissolving.”
The great room was gloomy, the blinds drawn. Émile’s glanced at Arthur, at the shelves and benches of equipment, crowded with candles and candle holders, at the mirrors hanging or leaning against the walls, at the small fire smouldering in the grate that did so little to dispel the chill of the room, and the locked doors to the storeroom and the passage.
His gaze settled on a great, leather covered book at the desk in the middle of the room. The faded freckles on his nose stood out again as he blanched.
Kenrick watched him narrowly. “Recollect you this? You made use of the book I prepared for you the day of your informal visit. One of my lackeys must have requested you enter. Two of the wretches have scuttled away in our absence. Have any sought refuge in your vampire household?”
“As you have invited me in yourself, it don’t make any difference.” Émile said carelessly. “I wouldn’t employ anyone I could bribe.”
“No, Gilles Long Legs? I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist my invitation to look into that book. Curiosity killed the bat!” Kenrick shouted with laughter. “Forgive me, Monsieur. I have a weakness for a joke, as do you yourself, though you are sullen company at present.” He giggled some more at the outrage in Émile’s eyes and took up the book.
“You hate me for what I showed you. Did I hear an echo in our hallway of your pathetic dream of killing me? Those scenes haunt you ever, coming between you and sleep. Yes, when we met again after so long, I saw in you what I know from myself, a terrible longing to alter the past, which was one reason why I knew we must work together. I am a cold philosopher in all but in this weakness for one human; I would change the past for my late wife.”
Arthur watched Kenrick closely as he went on, “Yet, this misalliance of yours has come inopportunely. You are not long a Man Vampire; you may have some sentimental feelings towards this little chit on her promotion*. That might make you anxious not to change the past for fear of altering the present. For myself, no such considerations apply.”
Arthur’s gaze quickened. Émile stared back impassively. “That ain’t a matter of concern for you, given it’s your past you want to alter.”
“Perhaps. But rather than a partly willing partner, it will render you my unwilling accomplice, co-operating through territorial possessiveness over your humans, especially that rosy little blonde. Arthur, pass me that book and those ensconced candles, keeping an eye on this excitable Gallic the meanwhile.”
Arthur sniggered, and Émile regarded him with detached interest as Kenrick went on.
“We are far closer than I imagined in bringing about a pathway through which we can visit the past. I returned cursing from probing the ideas of the equivocal coward in Chester, yet my time was not wasted, for he had insights into levels of existence as may yet prove invaluable. I take it in your experiences, you relived the past, able to interact with those you met, as it was with me?”
&nb
sp; Émile looked still more taciturn, perhaps disgusted by the thought of speaking of his meeting with Sophie to the cold being before him. He spoke flatly again. “I was, yet unaware of that after the first minute. I know my physical body didn’t move.”
“Mistress Kenrick assures me nor yet did mine. Those moments are evidence of a consciousness and one of our forms of body moving into another strand of time, Monsieur, which we shall work to extend. Yet I think it possible that in some circumstances, the physical body may travel also, but the difficulties arise when it already is located somewhere else, albeit in another time.”
Kenrick picked up the heavy leather book with the pages of half visible pictures of past events. Émile watched stonily as he lit the candles, took up a magnifying glass, and three dimensional images began to flicker on the ceiling.
“Diawl!” Arthur shifted, eyes dilated, as a narrow street came into focus. There was Émile in his shabby clothes and shirtsleeves, joking with a costermonger, while the dark and voluptuous girl with him turned over the vegetables.
“Quite a beauty, eh? But that is the wrong page.” Kenrick turned the page and the pictures ran across the ceiling and part down the wall. He turned to assess Émile, “Happy memories!”
Émile’s face was impassive as a three dimensional vision of himself aged about fifteen appeared below the ceiling. He was riding up to the Château des Oliviers. Bernard came into view, eagerly spurring on his horse, followed by another older youth. As they trotted across the front courtyard, they passed near a group of small girls, including Marguerite. They had broken off from some game involving two wooden dolls and heaps of picked flowers to quarrel bitterly. One girl darted forwards to tug at another’s hair and another pushed her away. The nurse, sitting some distance away in the shade, sewed on oblivious.
As the boys approached, Marguerite shrieked a greeting and the others joined in. Émile waved, as did the dark boy, but Bernard didn’t deign to notice them.
That Scoundrel Émile Dubois Page 29
