The Devil In Me

Chapter 40

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"His Lordship Niklaus Mikaelson." the footman said as the door to the drawing room opened and admitted him. He surveyed the room briefly, and saw it's sole occupant, Caroline, sitting tensely on the edge of her chair. He walked in, as she stood stiffly.

"Please, do not trouble yourself" he muttered, going to the fireplace, and bracing his arms on the mantle, looking into the fire. Caroline perched down in her seat again nervously. His silence, and reserved demeanour was making her nervous. She took a deep breath and waited for him to speak.

"I want to see her... every day" he said suddenly.

"She is usually busy with lessons, and sometimes she goes..."

"I don't care what time it is, morning, evening, night... I wish to see her everyday, to become a presence in her life, and you will not keep me from her" he said quietly.

Caroline nodded slightly, opening her mouth to speak, then thought better of it, and closed it, a slight feeling of fear spiking through her.

"Speak your mind Caroline, you have never held back before, let us not begin now" he said, and she glanced at his back, seeing his blue eyes on her in the mirror over the mantlepiece.

"I – I just wonder at your composure... are there not things you wish to say to me" she said haltingly, looking away from him. He was quiet, and serious for a moment.

"Yes, there are a great many things. But they can wait, I – I was not prepared for this" he confessed, wishing he could share his confusion with the only one who had ever understood him completely. Yet, she was entangled in his confusion, and there was not way to separate them. Caroline nodded, thankful for the reprieve.

"Now, I must take my leave, as I must call on Miss Sewell, and I am a good deal later than I promised." he said, going to the door, barely looking in her direction.

"Yes, you mustn't keep her waiting." Caroline bit out before she could stop herself and felt embarrassment beat her cheeks at the look he shot her.

"I shall call tomorrow"he said curtly, and left, without a backwards glance. Caroline gripped her hands together hard, so hard she felt her nails cutting into her soft palms. She stood and went to the window, watching the street, seeing his back already striding away.

He had left to go and call on his lady friend. Who she was, and how he knew her, she did not know, but the very thought of her, filled Caroline with a jealously unlike any she had ever known. It was bitter and vile, a rush of white hot anger. Yet, it was hardly her right. He had not seemed angry... not as angry as she expected, yet it was still fresh. In time, anger would come. Along with the hate, and the blame. She gripped her arms tighter around herself and watched the street, until the passer-bys cast long shadows on the street, and the sun dipped below the horizon.

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Klaus left Miss Sewell's and strode back to the better part of town. He had been distracted and barely registered the quiet seriousness Hayley had regarded him with.

Up ahead, he spied a familiar tailor's ahead, and entered. After a brief conversation with the proprietor he was begin measured, a glass of scotch in hand. The warm room, with it's leather furniture, and crackling fire, the professionalism of the tailors, the tasteful way they avoided mentioning his tattered clothes. In society, it was the life blood of tradesmen to know the major players in the upper circles, and he was sure that the arrival of an aristocratic family such as the Mikaelsons would not have gone unnoticed. And sure enough, his arrival had not either. The tailor obviously knew the business that dressing the newly resurrected Lord Mikaelson would bring him.