He laughed—as though he had read my mind. The count sat down in the chair opposite me and folded his hands on his lap. “So, my dear Virginia, how is it you decided you would like to pursue law as a career?”
“I don’t wish to mislead you, Count; I was not going to be an actual lawyer.”
“Paralegal, you said, right?”
“Yes.”
“Why not a lawyer?”
“I didn’t have the funds to put myself through seven years of schooling.”
The count leaned forward and stared deeply into my eyes. My blood began to race again. “Would you have preferred to have been a lawyer?” He leaned back in his chair.
“At times I considered that possibility, but I went to college and got my degree to be a legal secretary. While I was working at a law firm, I took some night courses that I would need in order to get my paralegal certificate. Once I had accomplished that, I intended to start studying criminal psychology.”
“I see.” He paused. “So what is it you would be allowed to do as a paralegal that a legal secretary would not be qualified for?”
I began to wonder where the count was leading me with all this questioning. Was he in some kind of legal trouble and hoping to see if I might help him out of it? If that were the case, would I be able to bargain with him—knowledge for freedom?
“So?” There was a slight impatience to his tone as he waited for me to answer his question.
“It is different all over the world. In Canada, paralegals are not just law clerks, as they might be considered in some other countries. We can represent matters in provincial offences court, summary conviction criminal court, and small claims court. We are even allowed to work on tribunals and boards. Some have become commissioners and notary publics, and I even heard of the odd one acting as Justice of the Peace.”
“Technically, then, you are just a step down from a lawyer?”
I laughed. I had no idea why I was feeling so comfortable in the count’s presence. Maybe it was because he was taking a genuine interest in me—in my life—in what I was all about. The fact that I was technically a prisoner in his house was not even crossing my mind. “A step down from a lawyer, to say the least!” I answered. “In more ways than one. We are not allowed to practice in any areas that are reserved for lawyers, and of course, we definitely do not enjoy the same income!” I paused. “Many paralegals do a lot of the grunt work for lawyers, but then the lawyers take all the glory. Paralegals get paid less per hour, too, although I believe most lawyers charge the client their fee. I know a couple of my classmates from Toronto intended to open their own offices, so they could specialize in the specifics allowed them under the law and keep all the profits.”
“Interesting.” The count stood and walked around to the back of my chair. He put his hands on my shoulders and massaged my muscles. I could feel the electricity from his fingers shooting through me. “So, Virginia, did you aspire to have your own office one day?” His fingers dug deeper into my muscle tissue. It felt so good.
“I hadn’t really thought of it,” I finally answered. “Like I mentioned, my long-term interest is in criminal psychology and profiling.”
“You should have your own office.” The count walked around to the front of my chair, placed his hands on the arms, and leaned toward me. His eyes were penetrating right through me. I melted. “That way, you could earn more money and reach your ultimate goal sooner, right?”
I continued melting. I was baffled as to where the count was leading with all of this, but at least this conversation was giving me hope that after I gave birth to his child I would be released to go on with my life.
I was startled by the sound of someone clearing her throat. The count stood up abruptly and turned to face his wife. Teresa’s face was dark with anger. “I hope I have not interrupted something here,” she stated with a sharp edge to her words.
“Of course not, Teresa. Virginia was just telling me about the career path she was trying to follow in her former life.” The count’s voice was smooth, but my mind clung to the words her former life.
I stood up and walked to the back of my chair, resting my hands on it for support. My legs felt like jelly. The possibilities I had just been foolish enough to be dreaming about had been fractured with Teresa’s entrance. The count chuckled as he looked from Teresa to me and then back to Teresa. “I trust I do not detect some jealousy, my dear,” he said to her.
Teresa was quick to recover. “No, Count. I only came to see what was detaining you. Have you forgotten that we have a party to attend tonight?”
“Oh yes, I had almost forgotten.” He turned to me. “Please forgive me, my dear Virginia; I must take my leave. But I think you should seriously consider pursuing more than a career as a paralegal. There are plenty of law books here, as you have already seen, and it would be a good way to spend some of your time while you wait for the birth of my child. Think on it. And you never know when I might need some legal advice,” he added. “Until tomorrow evening, then,” he said. He put his arm around Teresa and said, “Shall we, my love?” And they were gone.
What an idiot I was! There was his interest in me, the something more he might glean. I felt empty.
Max entered the room. “Are you ready to retire, miss?”
“Yes, Max; I think I have had enough for one evening.” I followed Max up to my room.
“Is there anything I can get you, Miss Virginia, before I go about my other affairs?”
I shook my head. Any words I might have wanted to say were trapped in my throat. I wanted to say to Max that he could let me out of this place; he could just turn his back while I slipped out the door. I wanted to say that I was nobody of any importance to anyone. I wanted to say there was no reason to keep me here. My hand went to my stomach. Inside me was the reason I was here—his reason for keeping me. I turned and headed to my bed; I heard the lock click into place. I picked up the book Dracula, and began to read.
~
I was awakened by the weight of someone sitting on the edge of my bed. It was him. He was just staring at me. Smiling. He picked up the book, which had fallen to the side of me, closed it, and then set it on the floor. He lay down beside me and took me in his arms.
When I awoke in the morning my body still tingled, but the bed was cold. He was gone.
~
For the next week I did not have the privilege of the count’s company after supper. Teresa must have intervened, for each evening when the meal was finished she would stand up and mention some event they had to attend and maintain that they should get going before it was too late. For the first few days, I used my time to flip through some of the law books, but then I decided to check out the count’s collection. I ran my fingers over various titles before hesitating at Vlad Tepes. I pulled it out.
“This should be an interesting read,” I said out loud as I headed to a chair. “I wonder how it compares to Attila’s account of the events that took place during that time.”
I lit a couple more candles and spent the next few hours reading. I found that much of the information in the biography of Vlad Tepes corresponded with that in Attila’s diary. Of course, there were no referrals to a Gypsy curse, but I had not expected there would be. I heard the front door open and glanced out the study window. The sky was beginning to lighten. The count and Teresa must be returning home. I heard laughter from the hallway, and footsteps. And then, his voice.
“I shall be along shortly, Teresa; I wish to check in on Virginia.”
I did not hear her reply, but I doubted it would have been a pleasant one. I had no idea what she feared. I had no intention of usurping her place. I was a victim here—a hopeful one, though. Once the child was born, I assumed I would be on my way, and then they could all be a happy little family again. I looked up and saw him standing in the doorway.
“You are still up?”
“I have been reading.”
He walked over to me. “And what is it you are reading tonight?
”
“I thought I would read the biography of your uncle, Vlad Tepes.”
“I see. You are not reading the law books?”
“I looked at some of them, but I am much more interested in the books you have in your cabinet. I thought to start with this one.”
“I see,” he repeated. The count glanced to the window. “Well, after supper tonight we shall discuss your findings. There are many stories and myths about my uncle. You understand how things get changed as they pass verbally from one person to another. Unless one was there, how does one know the real truth?” He smiled. “Until tonight, then. Rest well.”
I decided to take the book up to my room with me. I stepped out into the hallway. It was empty. I glanced to the stairs leading to the upper level. I glanced to the foyer where the front door was—the door that might lead to my freedom. I hesitated. What did I really want to do here? Flee, my inner voice encouraged. I half-turned toward the door.
“Ah, there you are Miss Virginia; I was just going to bring you your breakfast.” Max appeared out of nowhere.
My feet turned toward the stairs.
~
“Your uncle was an atrocious man,” I pointed out near the beginning of our conversation that evening.
The count chuckled. “That all depends on whose view you are looking at—the families of the ones he impaled or tortured, or the families of the ones he assisted.”
“Is he still alive?” I enquired.
“Yes.”
I do not know why it should have surprised me to hear that, but it did. I think I was still trying to look at the count as just an extremely powerful man—not as a vampire who had lived for hundreds of years. If I considered him an ordinary human, then that would negate the fact that any of these other people in Count Attila’s diary were still alive, including Dracula. My face must have shown my shock, because the count reached out and laid a hand on my knee. I shivered.
“Virginia, we all still live, if that is what you would call what we do. Is it not in the basic nature of man to cling to life?”
I nodded.
“We once were human. Even I, who was born into the curse, had to adjust, because when I was conceived, my parents were still totally human.” He heaved a sigh. “We learned to cope with the curse. It has not been easy. It definitely was not easy for my Uncle Vlad—Dracula, as you know him and as my father referred to him. He felt a great deal of responsibility to his people—to the real people of the land, not the rich boyars who ran with whatever tide of fortune might come their way!”
“But his methods of dealing with things—” I began to protest.
“Were no different from many others of the time. And where do you think he learned such techniques?”
“Yes, your father’s diary mentioned he learned them while in captivity at the Turkish court.” I stood up and walked around to the back of my chair. My knees were shaking, and I did not want the count to see how nervous I was. I still could not understand why he was taking such an interest in me—why he wanted to talk with me like this. I pushed on with my feelings. “If he so disliked what happened to him at the Turkish court, why did he inflict such things on his people? And, was it not because of his torturous ways that Tanyasin cursed his family and all of his blood for generations to come? How did the rest of you handle that? I am not sure I would have been so sympathetic if I had been Stephen, or your father. Your father lost his wife—your mother. She died because of the curse, remember?” I had no idea where I had found the boldness to speak such words, but they were out of my mouth before I could stop them!
The count stood up. He walked to where I was standing. He put his hands on my shoulders and gently moved me away from the chair. He peered into my eyes. “I was born into this curse, and as you know from the diary, I have been burdened with the leadership of my kind. I have no idea why. I want you to understand one thing though, my dear Virginia—my father and my uncle would never betray their family, and Dracula was even more than that to them. He was also revered amongst the poor, because he stood for honour and honesty. Merchants who cheated their customers were punished. Women who cheated on their husbands were punished.”
“What of the men who cheated on their wives?” I dared to interrupt. “Were they punished, as well?”
The count’s eyes took on a dark countenance. I was beginning to think I had overstepped a line, but then he smiled. “It is understood that men sometimes must seek solace elsewhere, but that is not what we are discussing here, is it, Virginia?” He took me by the hand and led me over to the window. “Out there is your world,” he began, “a world that we have had to try to fit into, over and over again. Men in your society seek solace outside of their marital beds—you call it adultery, I believe?”
I nodded.
“So, what do you call this then, my dear?” The count leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. His fingers played a melody up and down my spine. I dissolved into him. Suddenly he pushed me away and began to laugh. It had a mocking tone to it. “How do you think my wife would feel if she were to come upon us at this moment?”
His question took me by surprise.
“What do you think your punishment should be for cavorting with a married man?” The count was still laughing at me. I could tell from his eyes. He went on, “Do you think she might be justified in impaling you as my uncle did to those women who cheated on their husbands?”
My mind was spinning. Where was this line of questioning leading? I decided to stand up to the count—I felt that was what he wanted me to do. “I am not married; therefore, I am not cheating on a husband!” I stated haughtily.
He laughed again. “Well said, Virginia—well said. But I am married.”
“True. But, with your way of thinking, there is no cheating here, right? Besides, I am actually a victim—you have kept me here against my will—you have forced yourself upon me. What would your cousin’s punishment have been for someone like you?”
The count did not bat an eye as he quickly answered me. “It was a man’s world. And whether you want to admit it or not, Virginia, it still is. I see it all the time. It is the women in your society who are oppressed, especially those who cannot turn their eyes the other way if their husband strays once in awhile! The women demand fidelity, and when they cannot have it, they leave their husbands. And then, as I see in many cases, these women are once again ravaged by a society that treats them like second-class citizens. So, is it truly worth it for them to cast aside their men because of their needs?”
“How is it that you have figured all of that out?” I asked.
“I know much more about your world than you might think. I make it my business to get to know ... certain circles.”
“And what circles are those?”
“The ones I need to know.” The count was being evasive. He was toying with me, and judging from the look in his eyes, he was enjoying every minute of it.
His statements about women having to accept their lot in life if they had cheating husbands had angered me—especially after what John had done to me! “Anyway, how dare you judge those women?” My voice had risen to almost a shout. “What do you know of honour? Of integrity? You, with all your fancy mannerisms and traditions. Times have changed since your uncles’ era—maybe not as much as some of us would like them to, but they have changed. Your uncle would never get away today with the atrocities he inflicted on his people back then! He was a monster. I was looking at one of your books on serial killers, and Vlad Tepes was right there, one of the first in the book!” I was so angry that I found it difficult to control my breathing.
The count backed away and studied me for a moment. I could not read his face. I was certain I had overstepped my limit this time! I had no idea how much longer I could stand there under his scrutiny; my legs felt like rubber. Suddenly, he burst out laughing again. “This has been wonderful, my dear Virginia. You are a spark. Teresa would never dare to—”
“Teresa would never dare to what?�
�� Teresa entered the study. She looked furious. I wondered how long she had been standing there.
“Ah, Teresa darling, won’t you join us? Virginia has been trying to convince me that my Uncle Dracula is not a particularly nice person. What do you think?”
A look of disdain crept across Teresa’s face. “I think you are foolish to be discussing such matters with someone of such little significance! Within a few months she will be out of our lives, and then, what will it matter what she thinks of your uncle?”
“I am just passing time with her,” the count said. “What harm is there in a little friendly banter?”
“Pass time with your wife!” Teresa glared at me as she spoke to her husband.
“Jealousy does not become you, my dear.” The count strode over to his wife. “Well, I am glad you came in now, anyway; I have had enough chitchat for tonight. I think I fancy a walk in the gardens.” He extended his arm to Teresa. “Care to join me, my dear?” At the doorway, he turned to me for a brief moment. “Till next time, Virginia. I have enjoyed this. Read a bit more about my uncle and try to examine what is between the lines, so that you might come to a point of understanding.”
After he left with Teresa, I felt so alone. I had been enjoying myself; in a way, it had actually been fun to have a stimulating conversation with someone. Neither Max nor Teresa ever seemed up for one—Teresa, I had the feeling, because she did not care for me; Max because he just did not have that much time to spare. I felt a stirring in the pit of my stomach. A reminder of what was there. A reminder of why I was here. I left the study and headed to my room. I could sense the presence of someone close by, probably Max. I really did not care. It was not me that the count was walking with in a moonlit garden. It was not me who would be sleeping in his arms tonight. It was her— his wife.
By the time I arrived at my room, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I knew it would be Max. He looked at me and shook his head. “Don’t get too comfortable with the count, Miss Virginia. He is just playing with you.”
Night's Gift: Book One of the Night's Vampire Trilogy Page 13
