Blood and Lace

Blood and Lace--Chapter 2

Chapter 2-The Dream

Sleep came easy for me, as it always had. My dreams on the other hand bombarded my unconscious mind all night. Images of my past flickered before my eyes in small clips at first but soon it was as if I had literally stepped back in time. Almost 200 years to be exact.

I didn’t have to open my eyes to know where I was. The smell of dirt, horse and lush rose gardens all filled my nose. So familiar, wait, this was my home. Slowly my eye lids opened one by one and the suns warmth spread across my face. I looked down first at my hands and on each found a delicate lace glove extending from my wrist to the tips of my ruby painted fingers and beyond that a mass of silks and lace that was my gown that reached down to the unpaved dirt road, where horse drawn carriages grooved the earth.

I followed the familiar path winding from the back gardens to the Davenport estate where my mother was rocking in her chair watching over my younger brother William as he mischievously tormented the horses. As I approached the door I could hear the sound of conversing men inside muttering back and forth.

“Etta my sweet girl,” My mother beckoned me over. I climbed the porch stairs and followed her gaze to the stables. “Boys,” she sighed, gesturing to my brother, “They seem to be more impossible to tame than an unbroken horse. Alas what are we to do?”

We stood in silence for what seemed like eternity as familiar breezes flowed through my hair making my skin burst to life, goose bumps creeping across my neck. My mother suddenly turned to me, her face hardening, “My dear, your father is waiting inside, and he would like to speak with you.”

Instantaneously I could feel the blood drain from my face. “Father? What would he want with me? Mother you know I do not feel comfortable speaking to him alone, it was most difficult to cover the bruises…”

Her soft hand rose to my lips cutting my words short. “Hush child, you need not to worry. He is not alone inside and he seems to be in a light hearted mood today. Now lift your up your chin. Hands to your sides. Good, now let me have a look at you.” She sighed and smiled as she pinned back my unruly blonde curls. She pressed a tender kiss to my cheek and said, “You look beautiful, he will be so pleased. Now inside with you, you don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“Yes mama.” I turned the etched brass door knob and entered my home. I could soon make out the voices as they led me down the tapestry covered halls, and further still to the right, my father’s study. I gently knocked on the old pine door way and stepped inside to find him standing there, graying hair slicked back and his favourite pipe perched between his lips. I saw that, as mother had promised, he was, indeed, not alone. There were two gentlemen accompanying him. The first, an older man, I recognized as the bank owner Mr. Wiltshire. He was a rounded man, red in the face with but a white hairs few upon his head. The other man was much younger, handsome, though he, I did not recognize.

“Ah, Henrietta my dear, we have been waiting for you. This is as you know Mr. Wiltshire. The gentleman who runs the bank here in the town,” I curtsied deeply. My father rounded his table and placed his hand on the other, younger man’s shoulder. “And this strapping young lad is his son. I would like to introduce you to George Wiltshire.”  He explained with what seemed to be great joy. As I turned to curtsy he grasped my right hand and kissed it.

 “It is my pleasure to meet you, Henrietta. I have heard word of your beauty. Though now I must admit, in the presence of your true beauty, I must say it was understated.” He complimented with a suave smile that caused butterflies to form and erupt in my stomach.

A smile began to grow upon my face and my cheeks flushed with a warmth that strangely enough began to spread to the hand on which he had kissed as well. I glanced down and within seconds the warmth grew hot until to my amazement it burst into flames. A scream erupted from my throat. Agony, oh the agony.

I burst awake from my slumber. Sweat dripped from my entire body and tears dripped from my eyes. I cradled my hand close as close to me as I could as I built up the courage to look. My stomach churned at the sight and I could feel the bile rise to my throat. “I need to fix this…now.”

Surveying the room I frantically searched for something, anything, to lull the pain away. “Herbs, where the hell did I store my herbs...” I continued to search around and finally my eyes locked on the chest, my dear mother’s mahogany chest. I had placed them there to keep them out of Lucien’s sight as he had placed a ban on them. It seemed now this chest contained more than one secret which was forbidden. Dammit. I suppose I did say I would deal with him when I awoke. First though, I need a shower. I stank of blood, smoke and sweat.

Many minutes past as I gingerly cleaned my wounds, Soon enough, though, I emerged from my bathroom with renewed energy. “Ah much better. Now to deal with you, my undead boy.”

I slowly strode over to the chest and removed a chain from between my breasts. On it hung the lock’s key. I paused, looming over it. Nothing. Not a single sound. Hell, I thought morbidly, hopeful even, maybe he died while I slept. That would definitely save me some trouble. I inserted the key and with a small click the lock popped open and fell to the floor. Still there was no sound.

“Get a grip Etta, just open the damn chest! It’s not like its Lucien in there.” Thank god. I added silently. I placed both of my hands on either side of the antique and slowly opened its great lid.

His heart beat was the first thing I heard. Steady and strong as it pumped his sweet, crimson life blood through his body, which, from what I could tell, had completely, healed. I allowed my eyes to gaze into his face. I remembered his beauty from the previous night and, before I could control myself, I reached to caress his soft features. I held my breath as I traced my fingers along his jaw.

Enough, I said to myself. I had come in here for a reason; I need to find those herbs. I took my hand from his face and began rummaging around for the small container.

“Ah, there you are! Perfect. Now to create the salve. This will take time. Now where is that valerian?”

“Finished with me already?” Startled, I jerked my body to face my undead boy, my heart sinking to the floor. I dropped the small container and flinched as it clattered to the floor scattering my herbs around my feet.

“You…”