Something Wicked

Part 2: Inducement

"Only if you wish, he says. I would never try to bind you down here. She gazes at him. The fire in her eyes is a burnished red, like her mother's spring-damp roses. Of course, she says, and pulls out her carving knife to slice the fruit open."
- Keaton Michael, Dictionary Poem - Pomegranate

January 1890
London

Elyse was seated comfortably in the floral armchair closest to the fire in her sister-in-law's parlor, idly thumbing through the tome resting in her lap. The volume was one her fiancé of three months, the charming and well-connected Lord Gregory Ashton, had recommended she read. It was a strange text, a study of different shrubs and flowers, all with intriguing connections to the myths and folklore of the eastern part of the continent. Lord Ashton had found the Baroness' romanticized and exaggerated account of she and Elyse's misadventure to the summer palace of the vampire king, Count Dracula, quite humorous and had made it a habit of mocking the ladies with book recommendations surrounding the supernatural and the occult ever since.

The Baroness, of course, had no stomach for such things, declaring resolute in her desire – naturally post-teasing – to forget the entire affair.

Her mysterious "accident" at the ball had surprisingly inspired the Baron to abandon his mistress and return to his wife shortly after the news of her taking ill had reached his ears. While the couple had enjoyed some months of marital fidelity, both man and wife proved far too rooted in their respective bad habits and by autumn of the following year, Charles had once more begun to wander. Falling head over heels in love with an opera singer proved to be his undoing, and when he had all but abandoned his wife to pursue the lovely soprano, Violet had decided enough was enough.

Just last month, she had finally confided in her friend that like her husband, she too had chosen to take a lover, although the Baroness refused to reveal the identity of the cad to Miss Dormer. Elyse wasn't particularly injured by her friend's sudden indiscretion. She had always known Baroness Hays to be of the fickle and amoral sort. In truth, it was something she had always admired in some strange sort of way – that sense of reckless abandon, the freedom of spirit.

Yet, Elyse Dormer's experiences in Budapest had changed her. She remained the same loving daughter and devoted friend she had always been, but her encounter with the son of the devil had left her suddenly docile, contemplative even. The woman often found herself struggling to be fully present in the moment as she had once been. To her friends and family, it was as though she were somewhere else, always on the fringes of distraction.

In truth, even with her upcoming nuptials, her father's work abroad, her energetic nieces and nephews, and her best friend's infidelities and near-shattered marriage – none of that could fully pull her from her thoughts of Count Dracula. Not for long, anyway.

It had been over a year since that night in Budapest and he had yet to make contact with her. She still owed him a favor and if there was one thing Elyse detested it was being in someone else's debt for longer than was necessary. But if Miss Dormer was anything, she was forbearing, and so she continued to endure the sound of her best friend prattling away about the latest gossip from town as she perused the book in front of her.

Violet took a seat on the chaise lounge with a dramatic sigh.

"Honestly, I don't know why I bother going out into society anymore. Everyone treats me like I'm some sort of social pariah. I don't see how that's fair. It's not my fault my insipid husband can't keep what little is in his trousers to himself. I mean really. He is so selfish. Never thinks of me at all."