🕸 XIV 🕸

After Maggy and I had some quality alone time, we summoned our maids back to our room. I chose a casual black dress while Maggy fussed over what to wear for breakfast. Kathryn was amongst the maids and she had a very bright and cheery smile on her face.

Kathryn surreptitiously whispered to me, “She wishes to thank you in person. I truly believe she is the one, Madame Vineharth. We spoke all night and bonded in ways I could have only dreamed of. I’m eternally grateful to you.” Kathryn then bowed to me.

“I am happy for both of you, dear Kathryn,” I said. “Where is the good Miss Easter now?”

I excused myself and went outside for a stroll. The rays of the morning sun washed over the manor. Miss Easter was at the front entrance leaning against a column. She was smoking her pipe with a distant smile across her face.

“Good morning, Miss Easter,” I said.

“And a good morning to you, Madame Gothia,” said Miss Easter as she tapped her pipe against her boot to let out some ashes. “What a lovely sunrise.”

“Yes, it is absolutely dreadful,” I said.

Miss Easter giggled then took a puff from her pipe. She grew serious as smoke escaped her mouth and nostrils. She continued to stare off into the distance.

“I am frightened,” said Miss Easter.

“Whatever for?” I asked.

“Because I have not been this happy for quite some time,” she admitted. With her tragic lovelife, I understood her fear. “Kathryn is so sweet and honest and caring. It was only one night but you can learn a lot about someone after just one night. For the first time in a long while, my heart is full of hope.”

“Kathryn has always been a good servant to Maggy and myself,” I said. “And I do hope you two find some happiness in this unfair world.”

“There is bitterness in your throat,” said Miss Easter. “I heard what your sister did. Rather extreme but it shows that she cares. Are you alright?”

“Lurkson and I will have plenty of opportunities to express ourselves again,” I said.

“You have a complex relationship with those around you, Madame Gothia,” said Miss Easter.

“How so?” I asked.

“Well, you are in love with your sister, then you meet and fall for Lurky and are about to make love to him, but your sister denies you the love you offer Lurky, yet she does not want that same love in return and—” Miss Easter then stopped and punched the bridge of her nose. She then squinted and asked, “Did any of that make sense? I did not sleep much last night.”

“You can dig the salt further into my wound,” I said sarcastically. Miss Easter giggled and I lightly chuckled. “Yes, it is quite frustrating. But Maggy was looking out for my best interest. Apparently, pregnancy is an easy trap to fall in when desire is the bait.”

“Yes, fate is cruel like that,” said Miss Easter. “My conception was like that. I am certain yours and Lurky’s conception was also the result of careless passion. I was fortunate that my one and only time with a man did not result in a pregnancy. Life would have been much different.”

“Maggy promises to have a long discussion with me about contraceptives,” I said. “I will look into those.”

“My kind of love has nothing to fear, so no need for such things,” said Miss Easter as she took from her pipe. The ashes within glowed a deep red. She exhaled and said, “Heaven help me. I am in love again. I am a fool for punishment.”

“Kathryn is a good girl,” I said. “She will not betray or abandon you.”

Miss Easter smiled and said, “Yes, I can see the love in her eyes.”

“You will write to Kathryn then?” I asked.

“Oh, I will,” said Miss Easter. “Like I said. I am a fool. A fool in love, once again.”

We chatted for a bit longer and Miss Easter was good company. It was hard to believe we just met yesterday. We had grown close and I had made a friend I could be open with. A friend that was not my Maggy.

Miss Easter told me that Lurkson was making his rounds in the garden. I bid her a good day and I made my way into the garden. And I immediately went to the datura bush. And there was Lurkson, his back to me, watering and pruning his crop.

“Are you allowed to be alone with me, Gothia?” asked Lurkson without turning to face me.

“You sensed my approach?” I asked.

“I did,” said Lurkson as he continued to work. “Your aura is unmistakable.”

“I see,” I said as I forced a smile.

A dreadful awkwardness was in the heavy morning air. I could tell by Lurkson’s body language that he was guilty. Our connection had grown so strong that I could sense something was wrong.

“It was you who drugged that wine, yes?” I asked.

Lurkson went still and slowly looked at me. He looked excused and his eyes were so very dark. He had not slept at all. And he wore the same pants from last night.

“I spiked a few bottles in hopes to have a prank during supper with our guests,” said Lurkson. “I planned it as a joke a week back. But when I met you and you were to join us for supper, I switched out the tainted bottles with pure wine.”

“I see and how did the drugged wine manage to find Maggy and I?” I asked.

Lurkson clenched the handle of his watering can. He stared several feet past my head. He looked away from me and became a dreadful shade of pink.

“After your sister’s actions ended our night early, I wanted retribution and I heard she requested wine,” said Lurkson. “And so I switched the bottles while your Vineharth maid was distracted by Raven.”

“And you thought the wine was for my sister and only her?” I asked.

“I swear, I meant her no real harm,” said Lurkson. “I just wanted to give her a little nightmare to call us even.”

“The wine gave her an erotic fantasy and I drank enough to have a bizarre episode,” I said.

Lurkson sagged in genuine horror. “And you are alright?”

I grinned and said, “I never had such a wondrous dream. I dreamt I was a giant black widow and I drank up my Maggy’s life essence.”

“A dream befitting such a dark creature like yourself,” said Lurkson as he relaxed.

“You can give me all the nightmares you want, my dark angel,” I said. “My mind, body, and soul are yours!”

We then approached each other. We had mended things and could move on from the chaos of last night. I came so close I almost touched my Lurkson. But then I backed away and he smiled with understanding.

“We should write to one another,” I said.

Lurkson smiled so wide he bared his crooked teeth. “Are you certain that will be alright, dear Gothia?”

“You get excited over the simplest things, dear Lurkson,” I said.

“I cannot help but follow the whims of my black heart,” said Lurkson.

“Oh, do not be so dreadful,” I giggled.

Lurkson then shouted, “Dearest Gothia! Your dreadfulness lines with mine!”

I laughed and asked, “What does that even mean? Is this true love? It is so confusing!”

“I know, I do not even know why I said it,” said Lurkson with a chuckle. “Some Orpheus I am, not a poetic bone in my black skeleton.”

“Says the man who can keep up with me as we play music,” I said.

“Well, we should play again and have another duet—dash—duel,” said Lurkson with a ravenous leer.

I leered back and bravely marched up to him. I did not need to grab his collar this time. He obeyed my will without a word. We kissed but modestly and with more maturity.

We agreed to play our instruments during breakfast. Miss Easter then joined us and said that breakfast was ready. The three of us then walked back to the manor, laughing and full of merriment. Three good friends with high and cheery spirits.

It was the happiest I had ever felt. Looking back, it was positively dreadful how giddy and girlish I was. The sun above seemed brighter than ever. I never wanted that feeling to end.

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Breakfast was more dishes made of the slaughtered Hercules again. Meat and offal that was not presented last night found its way to the table. There was even beef bacon which lacked the same appeal as pork bacon.

I giggled at the thought of what became of Hercule’s penis. I thought of the maids that Miss Easter witnessed give good Hercules a beautiful day before his execution. I assumed the maids secretly spirited away Hercule’s penis to have it as a taxidermy memorial.

The thought of those three maids obsessing over a stuffed phallus was enough to send me into eternal giggles. My fit grew so bad that I had to excuse myself from the table.

“Gothia? What has come over you?” asked Maggy. “You are giggling like a schoolgirl who heard her first dirty joke.”

“Forgive me, Maggy, but my mind has fixated on something a bit lewd,” I admitted.

“Well, you should get over it and actually eat something,” said Maggy.

“My apologies but I am oddly full today,” I said as I gave Maggy a knowing look.

Maggy blushed and did not inquire further. It was true though, I was not hungry that morning. And only Maggy and I knew why. I even kept the secret from Lurkson and pledged to take the incident to my grave.

Lurkson excused himself as well and we gathered our instruments. I borrowed Lurkson’s cello again and he readied his black violin. We took a moment to tinker with our instruments and positioned ourselves.

The Duke made a request and luckily, Lurkson and I were familiar with the song.

We played “The Labors of Hercules” as requested by the Duke. It was an upbeat and rather simple piece but it provided an effective atmosphere for mealtime. We played without rehearsing and still played in perfect harmony.

It was not a piece that spoke to our black hearts. It was meant for those with hope and determination. I was not a patron of such common and bright works of music. I preferred the dank and dark and dreadful works that people buried away out of shame or fear or loathing.

Lurkson and I endured and played for our families as they chatted and laughed away.

All but the Earl. He was oddly quiet throughout the meal. Lydia the maid was present and served him with a nervous smile. I thought that they may have had a fight. But I was far too presumptuous to know better.

For after the meal had concluded, the Earl stood and looked straight at the Duke.

“Father, I have an important announcement to make,” declared the Earl. He then looked at Lurkson and I and asked politely, “Please, will you two pause for a moment?”

We stopped playing and Lurkson leaned against my chair. We watched him and waited for the ensuing drama. Lurkson nudged me and nodded at Lydia. The poor girl was pale white and clenched her apron.

The fear in her eyes was most dreadfully delicious.

The Duke did not say a word but nodded for the Earl to continue.

The Earl cleared his throat and said, “Last night, my eyes were opened. I had met with Lady Vineharth in her room for a talk and we discussed a great deal. We concluded that we were not suitable for one another. But we did owe it to ourselves to be honest with our families about matters of the heart.”

The Duke looked to Maggy who flashed him an awkward smile. Maggy then said, “I have had many suitors, dear Duke, and on my journey I have found a man who is more suited to be my . . . suitor. And—”

“Father, look at me,” demanded the Earl. His typical meek nature was gone and a fire emanated around him as the Duke slowly met his gaze. “I do not want any woman of nobility. I want no woman in the world but one. And I will say this here and now, proudly and without shame: I am in love with one woman and I will only ever love one woman.”

Lydia had turned bright red and her jaw trembled. Lurkson and I watched her with wicked interest. It was only a matter of time before she burst. The Earl then took Lydia by the hand and she did not resist as he forced her to stand with him before the Duke.

The Earl then declared, “I love Lydia! Everyone knows we are in love! The staff knows it! Mother knows it! And you know it too, Father! To hell and damnation if she is not of nobility! There is no other my heart aches for! No one else I want! There is—!”

“You can stop shouting, Alberto, I understand,” said the Duke calmly as he rubbed his forehead. “I concluded just as much. You two were raised together and grown into fine adults. However, as you pointed out Alberto, Lydia is not of nobility which is a glaring problem.”

“U-umm” went Lydia as she nervously raised her hand.

“Oh, look dear Lurkson, it speaks,” I whispered.

“Yes and I thought she was the walking dead, dear Gothia,” said Lurkson. “So very stiff.”

“Mmm, positively dreadful,” I said.

“Mmm, yes, very dreadful indeed,” said Lurkson.

I wanted to giggle and so did Lurkson but we restrained ourselves.

“Yes, Lydia? You may speak,” said the Duke.

“Actually, Duke Longroper, if you look into my family lineage, we are descendants of fallen nobility,” said Lydia.

“Fallen nobility?” said the Duke with a raised eyebrow. “To what effect?”

“My ancestors, supposedly, committed regicide and were stripped of their title,” said Lydia as she looked away.

“Dear Lurkson, remind me what regicide is?” I asked out loud.

“That act of slaying a king, dear Gothia,” said Lurkson.

“Mmm, suddenly Lydia became more interesting,” I said.

“Mmm, yes, an intriguing development,” said Lurkson. “Stripped of their titles seems lenient for regicide.”

“Would not execution be more suitable for regicide?” I asked.

“Yes, execution is the standard for regicide,” said Lurkson.

“And was not the Duke an executioner?” I asked. “Head of the executioners' guild as well, yes?”

“Yes and still has his axe on hand,” said Lurkson.

“Mmm, I would kill to see him perform an execution,” I said.

“Mmm, yes, same,” agreed Lurkson.

“Will you two not speak right now,” hushed the Earl. “Please.”

“Huh, fascinating, I will have to look into your family’s history personally, Lydia,” said the Duke before he looked at the Earl. “Well, Alberto, I could act like any duke and father would and forbid you from marrying Lydia. However, I am such a hopeless romantic, who am I to come between you two?”

“You approve, father?” asked the Earl with a hopeful smile.

“I did not say that,” said the Duke as he raised a glass of wine. “I said I would not come between you. I will look further into Lydia’s lineage and perhaps her bloodline will prove to be enough to convince the rest of society.”

The Duke then raised a glass to the Earl and Lydia. He then brought the glass to his mouth. And finished the glass in one swift gulp.

“Well, I hope you do not take long in your research, father,” said the Earl. “Because I made love to Lydia last night while under the influence of that bad batch of wine. And I believe we have conceived.”

The Duke snorted which was amplified by the wine glass at his mouth. Lurkson and I and everyone else gawked at the Earl and Lydia. The Duke then calmly lowered the glass from his face and glared hotly at the Earl.

“Son, next time you wish to say something shocking, do not say it while I am with wine,” said the Duke. “I almost spit out my favorite vintage.”

Lydia then stabbed the Earl with her elbow and bowed to the Duke.

“Duke Longroper, if you allow me to be Alberto’s bride, I will make certain to keep all his flaws in check,” declared Lydia.

“That is a grand series of labors to take on, dear Lydia,” said the Duke as he raised his glass to her. He then looked at Lurkson and I. “Which reminds me, you two continue playing for us again. And with more tempo for the newlyweds!”

“Newlyweds? But I had not—” said the Earl but we cut him off as Lurkson and I commenced playing.

“Well, I wish you two all the best,” said Maggy as she raised her glass of water to the Earl and Lydia. “And with that, I do believe that our business here has concluded. We will be leaving after breakfast.”

The Duke insisted that Maggy and I stay for a little while longer. Maggy insisted back that she had urgent matters to tend to and should be leaving. We were going to part from Longroper manor before noon.

And knowing that Lurkson and I would be separated, we played and played several of our favorite pieces and any requests. It was the most entertaining and dreadful breakfast I had ever attended. I had only been at Longroper manor for a day but it was long enough to change my life forever.

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