“Who invited you then?” asked the darker haired one, sounding slightly more pleasant but still suspicious.
“I did,” said George, appearing out of the shadows.
Harriet had been terrified about seeing George again, but in the end, it came as something of a relief. The two smokers became instantly more respectful as George took her arm.
George glared at them. “Peter. Edward. I’ll see you inside momentarily. But I’d suggest that Cavaliers of little more than a year’s induction act a little more humbly.”
Without waiting for them to respond, he led Harriet around the corner, where she noticed a door marked discretely with a horse and sword design.
George pushed the door open and strode into the room, which was in semi-darkness, lit by a multitude of candles and decorated with antique oak furniture. A huge fireplace filled with flames dominated one wall. She expected George to attempt to apologise or explain his actions, but it was clear that he didn’t think the subject worthy of discussion. She considered bringing his attack up herself, but somehow it didn’t quite seem appropriate.
There were about forty people in the room. About half were female. They were pretty and glamorous, with the polish that came from generations of breeding. The men however had that overly flawless look that marked them out as Cavaliers. Like George, they all wore silver and turquoise waistcoats and bowties to accessorise their expensive looking shirts and tailcoats.
Several of them turned to nod at George, giving her a very thorough stare in the process, but making no attempt to come over.
He seems very senior. Despite her nerves and her memory of the way George had acted during their last meeting, she couldn’t help feeling a little thrill at being seen with him, at the respect on the faces of the male guests and the hint of jealousy coming from the women.
“Let me get you a drink,” George whispered into her ear as though telling her the most shocking secret, causing further stares. He led her to a long table at the back of the room covered in champagne flutes and handed one to her. Harriet drank eagerly.
I’m looking good and attending the most exclusive party in town as the guest of someone powerful and attractive, reasoned Harriet, beginning to relax. This was basically exactly what I wanted from an Oxford education.
“Much as I’d enjoy keeping you to myself for the evening, I suppose I ought to introduce you to some of the other members,” George drawled, beginning to walk purposefully towards a group of three Cavaliers on the other side of the room. “They’re all desperate to meet you.”
She wondered why they were so interested. Yes, she was looking good, but not, if she was brutally honest with herself, any more so than the other women there, who were universally beautiful. Perhaps they were simply intrigued to see George’s date for the evening, but he must surely have brought a different girl each time.
“Harriet, this is Rupert. Rupert, Harriet.”
She shook the hand of the athletic looking dark haired boy.
“A pleasure,” he drawled, before turning to George. “So, this is your little coup is it? Very impressive.”
“Ignore Rupert,” George said loudly to Harriet. “The two of us have a sort of sibling rivalry going on. He gets terribly jealous, don’t you?”
For a second, Rupert looked utterly murderous but he quickly forced his expression into one of placid charm. “Well, I wouldn’t count on this ending it,” he said in a light voice. “It was marvellous to meet you,” he added, giving Harriet a radiant smile. “Now I’d better find my date. She might not be so socially advantageous, but she does look terribly attractive in a tight fitting cocktail dress.”
After he had stormed away, George introduced her to the two members that Rupert had been talking to: Hugh, who was black and muscular, and Crispin, who had blond curls, a delicate build and a seemingly permanent furious expression. Hugh made friendly conversation, but Crispin gave the impression of having taken an instant dislike to her and was practically monosyllabic.
“Who’s that?” Harriet asked. She pointed to a member standing aloof from everyone else, with an expression of intense unhappiness on his thin haughty face.
“His name’s Archie,” George replied with a hint of disapproval in his voice. “A recruit from the summer before last, and not exactly one of our success stories. I can introduce you, though I doubt he’ll be overly welcoming.”
“Please,” said Harriet. Something about the boy intrigued her.
“Oh do cheer up Archie old boy,” George said, strolling over to him and dragging Harriet in his wake. “This really can be a great lifestyle if you’d only embrace it.”
“Can’t you leave me alone George?” Archie said wearily. “Isn’t it enough that you made me what I am, that you forced me to do what I did? Must I smile and play your little games as well?”
“My guest for the evening wanted to make your acquaintance. I think you’ll like Harriet, she seems like your type.”
Archie had been looking into the middle distance, but now he focussed on Harriet for the first time and his sadness turned to anger. “You’re pointlessly cruel George. Fine, thrust her likeness in my face. Do you actually think you can make me hate myself any more than I already do?”
“You know, they say that regret over killing his true love was the making of Augustine back in the day. Maybe you should think about that and stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” George smirked.
Archie gave him a look of pure hatred and began to walk away.
“Just make sure you’re at the dinner Archie,” George shouted after his retreating back. “Or you’ll have to answer to Augustine. I see you’ve refused to bring a date for the evening. Questions are already being asked.”
“What was that all about?” Harriet asked, feeling disturbed by the encounter.
“Oh, nothing much. Some take to membership better than others that’s all.”
“But killing his true love?” Harriet didn’t like the sound of that at all.
“Oh, it’s all banter really. Don’t worry about his whining.”
If we can’t just be by ourselves, I wish we could at least avoid the less pleasant members.
George finally seemed to pick up on her signals, and began to lead her to the front of the room. As they turned to face the door however, she froze. Tom and Katie.
You’re being irrational. You’re here with George. Tom has every right to bring whoever he wants. Even stuck up bitches like her.
Harriet tried to flash them a smile, but couldn’t quite make herself. George turned his head to see what she was staring at, and frowned. Luckily, before any real awkwardness could ensue, a bell rang solemnly, a door by the side of the fire that Harriet hadn’t noticed before swung open. The members gathered their guests, and everyone filed out into a long stone corridor.
The couples walked along the winding passage for several minutes, most of the guests glancing nervously around, puzzled as to where they were going.
“I’ve always wanted to go through a secret passage,” Harriet whispered.
George smiled back, amused.
A few minutes later, they reached another door marked with the Cavaliers’ crest. Stepping through, Harriet found herself by a long stone staircase that led to the hall.
The hall was much the same as the one at her college: long tables, dramatic portraits and as on any formal hall night, lots of candles, cutlery and crystalwear. A stand had been erected by the entrance, supporting a detailed seating plan. George didn’t even bother to look at it, just led Harriet straight to the high table.
When everyone had sat down, Rupert, who had also found his way to the top table, stood up and walked to the front of the raised area. “I shall now gather the potential new recruits,” he announced, and left the room.
Whilst everyone waited for his return, waiters poured glasses of wine. The starters of foie gras terrine were served, but no one began to eat. Harriet realised how hungry she was and wished Rupert would hurry up. She took a
dvantage of the wait to scan the room. Some of the faces she recognised from various nights out around Oxford. Others, especially on the high table seemed vaguely familiar from elsewhere. She suspected that some of them might be politicians but couldn’t quite place them.
George sat to her right, next to the empty central chair. She was pleased that Hugh was opposite her, but no longer accompanied by the odious Crispin. His date, sat facing George, was a girl called Catherine with stunning curves and huge hair who was glammed up to the hilt. Harriet had met her a few times around the Union and seemed to remember that she’d just been elected onto the Standing Committee there, the team that helped the officers organise events and did whatever other tasks were required to hopefully rise up the ranks one day. Whilst by all accounts she’d been ruthlessly efficient in her campaign, she was very sweet and Harriet was pleased that Hugh had made such a good choice.
Catherine seemed hugely excited to have been invited, and rambled to Harriet about how utterly fantastic her term had been, and how this was just the perfect ending, and about her plans for Christmas, and how she was going to run for Secretary next term, and how she wanted to organise a charity ball.
“I’m not sure what charity yet, but wouldn’t that just be so much fun? Would you be interested in helping out if I get it off the ground?”
“You know, introducing the new members is meant to be one of the most important roles of the evening,” interrupted George. “Rupert seems just thrilled to be responsible. But honestly, who in their right mind wouldn’t rather sit here, drink delicious wine and enjoy glorious company?”
Harriet couldn’t disagree. Now that her initial panic had worn off, she was enjoying herself immensely. She was beginning to wonder whether she’d imagined George’s previous actions or at least blown them out of proportion. After all, she’d been drunk and over-excited, it wasn’t too hard to believe she could have misinterpreted what was going on. She touched her neck reflectively, but the wound had almost entirely healed and disappeared.
A moment later, the door to the hall swung open and Rupert strode in, followed by fifteen guys walking in line. Harriet stared at them intrigued. She noticed that one was Robert, the irritating rich boy who’d spoken to her in the club the night she’d gone off with George. Another was Harry, the boy who’d organised the Union’s Halloween party. To her amazement however, one of those selected was Ben. She caught his eye and he smiled. She wondered if Caroline knew.
The boys were all dressed in white tie, though without the accessories in the society colours sported by the real members. They all seemed to have near uniform expressions of arrogance and pleasure at being invited, tinged with nerves. It struck her that the Cavaliers weren’t big on positive discrimination. The chosen ones were universally male, predominantly white, and as far as she could tell, overwhelmingly upper class.
Rupert led them onto the dais and addressed the crowd. “Ladies, gentlemen, Cavaliers. This year’s committee have attended every party worth going to. We have scoured the sports teams, observed with close interest what freshers were hacking for what elections, kept an eye out for the offspring of the rich, the famous and the worthy. We have read the columns of both student papers and the gossip sheets of each college.”
Everyone was listening, rapt, but George whispered to Harriet, “You know, I do this sort of speech much better.”
“Once we had some idea of who were the freshers worth knowing (as well as a few previously overlooked second years who’ve upped their game) we held college drinks parties to sound them out and pick our favourites. Between us, we have decided on fifteen candidates, who I will now introduce to you.”
“He did no work at all,” George continued. “I swear I picked out almost all the most promising ones.”
Whilst Rupert had been speaking, everyone had begun to eat. The food was wonderful.
Rupert was introducing the candidates one by one and giving a potted biography of their background, college, subject and achievements so far. Once he had finished with this task, he directed the candidates to a table at the far end of the hall.
“You have been selected as some of the most interesting and most promising young men that Oxford has to offer. Revel in that fact and enjoy your night. But remember, we are a society for the elite of the elite. You will attend our events over the coming year and some of you will be rejected. At our midsummer party, five of you will be inducted into the Cavaliers. The others will be banished from any contact with us in future.
“I wish the candidates luck and I wish everyone else the most marvellous night,” Rupert finished. Then he moved to sit down on the left hand side of the throne.
With the speeches and introductions over, everyone focused on eating, drinking and talking to their neighbours.
“Which five do you think they’ll select?” Catherine asked.
As far as Harriet could tell, she seemed to know and have strong opinions on all fifteen, and at the prospect of something resembling an election, her eyes had lit up. To Harriet’s pleasure, she had lots of positive things to say about Ben.
The meal continued with a pan-fried breast of duckling, followed by chocolate torte for pudding. With each course, a different wine was served. Harriet didn’t know much about wine, but suspected that they were all top vintages. They certainly tasted great.
Harriet felt relieved that the meal had been basically uneventful, similar to any other formal meal she’d attended at Oxford, albeit with exceptionally good food and wine and alarmingly attractive people. She felt silly for having worried so much. Having only accepted George’s invitation to prove a point to Tom, she was surprised to find herself enjoying his company just as much as she had on their previous meeting, before it had all gone wrong. Her memories of the end of the night were rapidly fading, to be replaced with thoughts of how wonderful it had been to walk arm in arm with him around the darkened city.
Everything but a glass each for water and for port were cleared away, and it seemed that the evening was drawing to a close. Some of the guests began wondering aloud whether there was any plan for an after party, but the members just smiled.
As the college bells began to ring in eleven o’clock, Rupert stood up, walked to the table where the new candidates were sitting and led them out of the hall. He returned accompanied by Gus.
Harriet stared in amazement at her stepfather. She wanted to ask George for an explanation but was utterly speechless. Gus walked up the hall and sat down on the central throne.
“My apologies for my lateness tonight. I was unable to attend the more social part of the evening, but have at least arrived to lead the ceremonial aspect.”
Everyone in the room was staring at him, the members with appropriate respect, the female guests with curiosity and a certain amount of awe. He appeared to be at least twenty years older than the other Cavaliers, but was no less attractive.
Gus turned to catch her eye and smiled. Harriet had no idea how to react, but managed to smile back.
“Gentlemen, stand behind your partners,” he ordered.
Each Cavalier followed his instructions, and placed their hands on their guest’s shoulders.
“The other guests are all under hypnosis right now,” George whispered to her. “When Augustine raises his cane, each Cavalier will begin to drink from their partner. Now the million pound question is, are you going to let me do the same?”
Harriet continued to stare straight ahead, watching Hugh play with Catherine’s hair, whose face was a picture of calm. She didn’t think she could look at George or her stepfather without losing all self-control.
“Please no. Not you too. Is this vampire thing a big in-joke between you and Tom, or do you honestly all believe it?”
George massaged her neck and shoulders, sending tremors through her. She knew she should just walk out, but he was having an oddly sedating effect on her.
He didn’t even bother to address her disbelief. His voice had taken on an oddly pleading tone.
Suddenly, Gus raised his cane, and all the Cavaliers but George bit into their partner.
Harriet screamed. She couldn’t believe the scene before her. The guests stood impassively as the members drank from them. Some were very gentle, kissing necks and stroking hair and whispering things to them when they came up for air. Others however were more vicious, gripping the girls and sucking hard, or biting again and again in different places. It all seemed unreal. In a horrible flash, she realised that Tom had been telling the truth.
“Harriet, calm down,” George said quietly but urgently, gently touching her forehead. Her screams turned to hysterical sobs. Some of the vampires turned from their partners to look at her, several of them with a disapproving look on their faces.
“It’s okay. The girls aren’t getting hurt really. They’re all mesmerised and no one is going to be stupid enough to take too much. They’ll be basically fine in the morning,” George said soothingly.
Harriet was shaking. This couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t, but there was only so long she could disbelieve the evidence of her own eyes.
“Harriet, look at me,” George said firmly, turning her around, pulling her towards him and looking into her eyes. “It’s fine. Just relax.”
Her hysteria only intensified, her sobs becoming louder.
“Damn pendant,” George said ruefully, realising his tactics weren’t working. “You could do with a bit of mesmerising right now.”
She finally made herself calm down enough to speak. “You’re really vampires aren’t you?”
George didn’t look in the mood for a philosophical discussion. “Yes, yes we are.”
“And if it wasn’t for my necklace, you could make me totally out of it like all the others.”
“Well, not quite so easily. You’re oddly resistant on your own. But I’m pretty sure I could have stopped you from screaming the place down.”
Oxford Blood Page 9
