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My chest heaved as I pressed my back against the cool stonework of the house. That had been close, too close. She was far more observant than I gave her credit for, or perhaps my hunger was causing my lack of self-control. Whatever it was, I had to be more careful next time. My curiosity was getting the better of me, making me careless.
Even from my observation of her, I had not discovered enough about her yet to be satisfied. It seemed that every leaf I turned over in her mind revealed new secrets that led me deeper into her being. I had grown tired of this one-sided investigation. I knew by her thoughts that she was curious about me, and I was still curious about her, about how she would react to me when I spoke to her. I knew it was dangerous to place myself at the risk of being discovered, especially by someone of such intelligence. Who knows? Even the wise have their moments. Perhaps I would get lucky this time and she would not connect the dots, a foolish assumption for sure, but I enjoyed the thrill of inevitable danger.
I decided I would awaken tomorrow. I had spent far too much time wandering about in other peoples’ heads. To tell the truth, it becomes quite boring after awhile because most human thoughts are relatively the same, all warped and egotistical. I could not wait to see the look on her face when I opened my eyes to gaze at her for the first time. How would she respond? That was why I could not wait to see how she would react to my presence. That was why I would revisit her tonight.
*~*
I quietly shut the door behind me as I entered her room. All was quiet and still. The only thing that interrupted the perfect stillness was the soft rising and falling of her chest as she lay in her bed, deep in slumber. My breath caught in my chest as I stood at her bedside like she had done so many times for me. Soft moonbeams shone on her pale face, causing it to glow with heavenly light. She looked so pure, so innocent, so sweet. Her beauty shone through in her slumber, a quiet and delicate beauty. Her scent filled the room, an intoxicatingly sweet and seducing scent. My mouth watered in anticipation and my pupils enlarged with desire. I smiled eagerly, revealing my fangs. She was so tempting, so appealing; it was hard to resist my urges.
Somehow I managed to do so as I quietly slipped under the covers of her bed, as far away from her as I could. I wanted to see how my experiment would work out. I took a deep breath as I penetrated her thoughts once more, this time entering the realm of her dreams. I was surprised to discover I was already present in her dream, though it was far from the desired picture I imagined I would take in her mind.
I quickly, but subtly took control over her dream and transformed it into one that would make a pure maiden blush with embarrassment and disgrace. I watched as her brow creased with confusion and she moved as if to distance herself from me. Interesting. In the dream I had myself pull her towards me in a lover’s embrace. To my surprise, I found that she was gently moving herself towards me.
There were only centimeters between us now. My body shook in response to the nearness, the sheer intimacy of the moment. She was so close, all I would have to do was touch her and she would be mine forever. No. I told myself. Wait and see what happens. I intensified the dream to a new height, a level at which in my previous performances a woman would have thrust her neck to my mouth, incoherently moaning for me to bite her. But Jane simply reached her arms across my chest and snuggled closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder. The only sound that escaped her lips was a satisfied sigh.
My mind whirled with a mixture of confusion and her scent. Why was she so different from the other women? How could she handle this? I laid there for a few more moments, feeling her heart beat against my chest. It was so soft and fluttering, like a little bird. I could hear the blood coursing through her veins, the deliciously tantalizing fluid that was barricaded by a simple layer of skin. I could not hold back any longer.
I gently brushed the hair that cascaded down her neck, my fingers tingling with anticipation. Her breath caught in her throat as I barely touched her skin and I felt her pulse accelerate, not out of fear, but out of anticipation as well. I let my lips barely brush her neck and she took a sharp breath, her breath becoming shallow. I smiled as my fangs grazed the area above her artery. That was more like it. I used my hands to gently hold her in place as I prepared to devour her.
Suddenly, her hands gently grabbed my wrists and drew my hands away from her shoulders. I paused. What was happening? She was not awake, I knew that much. I delved into her thoughts once more to see if an explanation would emerge. Not yet. Her mind softly whispered to me over and over again until I found myself standing at her bedside once more. I stared at her forlornly, but I knew she was right. If I had bitten her tonight, I would have regretted my decision for the rest of my existence. But why?
I gently leaned down and left a kiss on her forehead,
“Not yet,” I whispered softly in her ear before I turned and left her room as quickly as I had come.
*~*~*
I swiftly sat up, wrenching myself out of my dreams. My hand flew to my neck defensively, my breath shallow. Slowly, I calmed my breathing as I looked about the room. The morning sun shone through the curtains and the birds sang sweetly in the trees outside my window. I let my hand slide from my throat and fall limply on my lap as I fell back onto my bed. It was only a dream.
I sighed as I covered my eyes to block the sunlight. But it had felt so real...and the dream. I felt my cheeks grow hot with disgrace as I remembered it, yet at the same time I felt a deep surge of satisfaction as I recalled the sequence. I felt as if there was something I had accomplished, but I did not know what.
I listened for a few moments to the silence of the house. The rest of the family had not arisen yet, with exception of the servants, but they would not bother me at this time. So, I quickly dressed in a simple gown and a light jacket. I would be walking this morning. I always went walking to clear my mind and sort things out. Quietly walking down the hall, the only stop that I made other than to tell George where I was going was to check on my mysterious guest. I only paused to glance quickly in the room to see that he was in bed, sleeping soundly as he had been for the past two weeks. My cheeks grew hot once more and I looked away to hide my shame as I shut the door and proceeded down the stairs and out the door, into the crisp autumn air.
I wrapped my arms around myself and slowly sauntered about the grounds of the house. The gravel crunched as I walked down the lane, past the gardens and fountains, the bushes and statues. I walked along until I came to the gate of our estate. I held the iron bars as I gazed from between their elegant spirals and twists. Even though I was no longer trapped in the city, this house felt more like a prison than what the city had ever been to me. My confinement was almost more than I could handle. So, I tried my luck and pushed against the gate. It squealed loudly as it gave way and opened a little. I smiled as I glanced over my shoulder before I stepped between the doors and outside the gate. There was no one around and besides, I would be back before breakfast so no one notice that I had gone missing.
*~*
I slipped back into the house as quietly as I had gone, only to find that the house was bustling with activity.
“What is going on?” I asked one of the servants as I quickly stuffed the newly written pages of my story into my coat pocket.
“Oh, there you are, Miss Jane! We have been looking all over for you. The man has finally woken up!” the young girl excitedly said, “And he is certainly handsome, Miss. He is the most elegant man I have ever set my eyes on before, if I do say so myself, and in better health than Doctor Milling ever expected!”
She continued rambling, her nerves so excited at this new occurrence, but I did not linger any longer to indulge her shallow observations. He was finally awake. My heart pounded with excitement as I scaled the marble staircase and rushed down the hall to his room, which was surrounded by much of the household staff as they tried to get a glimpse at the now awake guest. I pushed through the mass as I forced my way into the room.
When I came in, he was sitting up in bed, a handsome smile on his face. My breath caught in my chest as I looked into his eyes, they were such a beautiful and deep color blue, like the ocean. His smile grew even wider as he watched me come to my father’s side beside him. My sisters and mother were giggling, undignified, in a far corner of the room, clearly not able to cope with the degree of looks and charm this man contained. My father smiled at me and back to the man.
“Jane, this is Mr. Wellington. Mr. Wellington, my youngest daughter, Jane,” he said, eagerly introducing us to each other. Apparently there was something about Mr. Wellington that my father liked, which made me suspicious because if my father took to someone, that meant there was money somehow placed in the equation, which would most likely lead to a proposal of marriage, which is what I would least like to hear at a time when I had reached such a crucial point in my writing stage. I was now at the point where I probably would hoard myself up in my room, pretending to have fallen to a severe bout of sickness, so I could adequately put all my ideas on paper with a limited amount of disruption.
I courteously bowed, never taking my eyes off Mr. Wellington. I return, he took my hand and gently kissed it, his cool lips brushing my skin. A shiver went down my spine and he smiled as I tried to remove my hand from his with enough hesitation that it would not be noticed.
“It is such a pleasure to finally be meeting the extraordinary young woman who saved my life,” he said, his voice as smooth and sweet as honey. I bowed my head with humility as I curtsied once more.
“Do not worry, Mr. Wellington, the pleasure is all mine. It is such a relief to see that you have finally woken up, I was beginning to worry that you might never do so,” I replied, trying to hold back the flood of questions that surged in my mind as I watched him.
“If it would not be too much of a strain on you, Mr. Wellington, I was wondering if you would like to join us in the dining room for breakfast?” my father interjected, eager to discuss matters with him in public. My father’s urgency amused me. Perhaps it stemmed from the existence of a male in the house with whom he felt he shared the same intelligence level. Though from what I had previously observed from Mr. Wellington in this short amount of time, he clearly showed an incredible superiority of knowledge for someone his age; he looked as if he was only twenty or twenty-one, only two years older than I.
My heart skipped a beat as a smile flashed across his handsome features once again. I had a feeling that being around him would not be good for my health.
“Thank You for your generosity, Mr. Harrington. I accept your offer.”
*~*~*
I smiled as I sat down at the table at the right hand of Mr. Harrington and across from Jane. The table was elegantly set with fine china and crystal goblets. I wondered how rich they were. From glancing about the room, I noticed that many of the pieces in the room were of foreign craftsmanship; Mr. Harrington must have come off with quite a profit after he sold his business to his partner. I also observed with an inward smile, that all of these works had a faint essence of Jane about them. However, I was not too surprised at this discovery because, so far in my observation, she seemed to be the only one in the house with the intelligence to truly appreciate art and what it means. I turned my direction towards the food and the family sitting about the table.
It was extremely amusing, watching the servants as they served us our food. When they noticed I was watching them, one or two of them almost dropped the bowl of food they were carrying, but most of them stopped, frozen like a deer before a hunter, and had to be called back to reality by the harsh voice of Mr. Harrington. Even Emiline and Diana were acting inappropriately, glancing mischievous looks at one another and giggling excessively. It was uncomfortable to be so attractive sometimes. However, I cannot deny that I thoroughly relished in the waves of jealousy that their fiancés were emitting, glowering at their plates as they ate, not even bothering to make conversation.
“So, Mr. Wellington, you can be sure that there are many questions I would like to ask you,” Mr. Harrington said as he looked awkwardly down at his plate, perhaps he was not used to making conversation, though with an ignorant wife and two daughters who were just as clueless and Jane being extremely headstrong and revolutionary in her ways, I could not blame him, such conversations would be far too much for this gentle man to take.
I looked up at the middle-aged man and warmly smiled,
“Why, certainly, Mr. Harrington. I would imagine that any intelligent human being would have plenty of questions about my past, especially since you found me in such a state,” He simply nodded in response, so I continued, quickly stitching together experiences from my former life.
“I was traveling through this part of the country three days ago. My business partner, Mr. Jenkins, and I had been planning for several months to move our business somewhere closer to the north where we might receive more business.”
“And what business are you in?” Mr. Harrington asked, looking up this time, his mind automatically calculating how much he might benefit from our acquaintance.
“The fur business,” I replied. “At the time, I was bringing the last shipment of crates from our old store to take it to the new one in Hertfordshire, only three miles from here. But alas, a dreadful storm passed through about two days before you and your family came to the Garrison, now Harrington, Estate. I was pressed for time and eager to meet my comrade at the crossroads, so I pressed my horses onward into the night. The lightning and thunder was terrifying, even for a man of my experience. It spooked the horses and I lost control of them. They were running at full speed and I could not make them stop. I believe the only thing that saved my life was when I fell off the wagon, somehow managing not being crushed under the wheels or falling crates.” I paused for dramatic effect and to observe my listeners, all of them were hanging on my every word, even Emiline and Diana’s fiancés. All except Jane, who smiled slightly like she had a witty response on the tip of her tongue that she could not wait to speak. I did not give her time to permit such a comment, at least, not at this moment. So, taking another breath, I continued.
“The reason I say this, Mr. Harrington, is that after the sun had risen into the morning sky, I tracked my horses down only to find that they had panicked and lost control, running head long into the trees. I assume they were killed instantly from the impact.” Mrs. Harrington gasped in horror at the conclusion of my tale, “Yes, Mrs. Harrington, I was just as traumatized as you are when I found them. I had raised them since they were mere ponies and I was a lad, so you can imagine my attachment.”
“What a dreadful loss!” Diana exclaimed childishly. Really, what did her fiancé see in her?
“Indeed,” Jane commented sarcastically under her breath. Luckily, no one but I noticed.
“So, I spent the rest of my time wandering about in the wilderness. I was lost and had no money with me because it had been lost when I was thrown from the wagon and I hadn’t any notion as to where I was going. The rain continued to pour as I trudged onward in the mud and the wet. I had hoped that I would be able to find some way back to Hertfordshire so I could reunite with my companion, but that hope soon began to dwindle. I was hungry and growing weak from exhaustion. I thought I had no hope of finding any civilization when you and your family happened to come across my path. And thanks to your extraordinary daughter, Miss Jane, I am alive today.” I smiled at her in hopes of flattering her to gain her trust. Apparently she was not the type to be moved by sweetly sharp words for she then looked at me, amusement still in her eyes and she smiled mischievously.
“But, if I may, Mr. Wellington, beg to differ and ask that would I still remain an extraordinary woman in your opinion if I had not rescued you? Or do you frequently employ the tools of flattery to gain some sort of high opinion from the ordinary or less than ordinary people you happen to cross paths with?” she asked. I sat there for a moment, stunned. I had no idea that she possessed such venom with her speech, but this is what made it fun. Her smile widened.
“Jane!” her mother harshly whispered, but I did not give her time to continue.
“They say that extraordinary people are ordinary people who go out of their way to do extraordinary things,” I replied coolly, mimicking her sarcastic tone.
“And you are still a salesman,” she quietly answered.
“Jane!” her father reproved her this time, but before things could escalate further, Caroline came in the room.
“Mr. Harrington,” she said with a curtsy, “If I may collect Miss Jane, Sir. It is time for her lessons.”
“Yes, certainly, Caroline,” he answered bowing his head in humiliation at his daughter’s actions.
The men at the table rose as she stood, gracefully and smoothly as she always did. I bowed.
“It was wonderful to make your acquaintance, Miss Jane. I hope we are able to discuss such matters in the future.” She politely curtsied and smiled in response.
“As do I.”
*~*~*
“Miss Jane, you cannot say this about your sisters’ fiancés!” Caroline exclaimed as she handed back the piece of stationary.
I sighed. I did not want to read this speech anyway because it would all be lies. Lies about how I thought my sisters were perfect angels and soul mates for their future husbands and how they would live happily ever after. But my mother had asked me to do it, and once my mother requested something, there was no escape.
“But it is the truth, Caroline.” I sighed heavily as I brushed a few stray hairs that had fallen in my face and placed my pen on a fresh sheet of stationary.
“Sometimes we must blur the truth in order to preserve the feelings of others,” she replied softly, gently touching my shoulder as she looked at the blank page before me and added, “Write.”
I sighed once more as the scratching of pen against paper filled my ears. It was so difficult to write if I was uninspired. It tore me apart as I continued to put words down on the paper, each one as black and false as the one before it, all I had to do was write in a way that would please Caroline and my mother. That would not be difficult, anything flattering or boastful about my sisters would do. But it still killed me, to be trapped in this situation, acting like everything was more than fine between us when it really was the exact opposite.
After about an hour, I walked over to where Caroline was sitting in the arm chair by the fireplace asleep. I giggled in a moment of childish amusement as I placed the paper close to her nose, watching her breath make it flutter and wave. Finished with my entertainment, I tapped her gently on the shoulder. She jumped, startled, and snorted as she jerked herself back to the world of consciousness. I smiled warmly, but it was empty. I really did not want to do this.
“Here, I am finished,” I said as I watched her eyes flick over the false words I had so elegantly written down. She smiled when she finished and handed the speech back to me.
“Much better,” she commented, “That is all I was going to have you do for your lessons today, so you may go now.”
I eagerly walked to the hall. It was so beautiful outside, I wanted to go for another walk, however, I would confine my walk to the ground of the estate this time. “Oh, Jane, wait a minute,” Caroline called to me. I stopped and turned to face her. She wore a smile on her face that was similar to the one a cat would have if it had eaten a canary.
“Yes?”
“I cannot wait until your presentation after dinner; your speech is very promising. I only hope it is just as convincing.”
*~*
My hands shook slightly as I stood before my family in the drawing room. I could not do this, not in front of him. I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves and looked at my audience. I had been waiting for this moment all my life, to have an audience to hear what I had written, but this was never what I imagined of doing. My sisters’ eyes glowed expectantly and innocently as they sat there with childlike patience as they waited for me to begin. Then I looked at their fiancés, their faces surprisingly filled with joyful expectation, it was almost as if they were waiting for my lies and deception. They were waiting for me to reassure them that they were going to be happy and that they should never regret their decision for a moment. My heart ached in pain as I saw past their hope and to the real reason why they had set up this defense of happiness. They did not want to marry my sisters, they would never be happy with them. They only wanted to be deluded into thinking that happiness might be a possibility, and I was helping them do it.
I did not dare look at Mr. Wellington. Something inside me told me that he knew enough about me already to see past my façade of sisterly affection. I do not think I could have done it if I had looked at him. So, willing up my courage, I awkwardly cleared my throat and began to speak the long thread of lies that I had constructed in order to capture my sisters and their fiancés in a web of deception like a spider. They would only realize what I had done after they were injected with the venom of truth, and by that time it would be too late.
*~*
I looked up from my speech and to my audience. They clapped excitedly at the conclusion of my “work of art”. My sisters sat there, tears streaming down their fat faces, blubbering with overwhelming feelings, my mother along with them. Their fiancés sat there, dumbstruck looks of happiness on their faces. I suppose my speech had achieved its goal, but not really. For then I looked at Mr. Wellington, who had just woken up from his slumber he took after making condescending remarks about my speech to my father. Perhaps it would not have bothered me so much if it did not seem like Mr. Wellington was attempting to be in good favor in my father’s sight. There would be another point for my father in our “incapability of women when it comes to writing” debate.
A flame of anger flew up so fast within my heart, I surprised myself. It was not so much that he did not like my speech, but that my writing did not hold him captivated and hanging by every word that bothered me. And I still could not forget his condescending remarks. They stung my ears like hot coals.
In order to properly contain myself, I swiftly stormed out of the room.
“Jane? Jane, what is the matter?” I heard my mother call to me as I quickly stomped up the staircase. I did not answer.
When I got to my room, I slammed the door shut and locked myself in. I read my speech over and over again, my heart filling with anger and despair every time I did so. This had been some of the best quality writing I had ever done, if Mr. Wellington did not like it enough to stay awake, what would my book do?
“And why does his opinion matter?!” I spat bitterly as I ripped the speech into shreds and threw it in the fireplace.
I paced the room, hot tears of anger flowing down my face. Storm clouds of ideas thundered in my mind with every turn of the room I took. Finally, when I had constructed my ideas in coherent order, I hurriedly sat down and began to write at an incredible rate. I was driven by emotion as I poured my ideas onto the paper in front of me.
It was three hours later when I was finally able to pull myself away from my desk. I felt satisfied, all my anger drained from me. I sat there looking at the paper, debating on whether I should read what I had written for fear that the anger contained on the pages would make them burst into flames and scream my disapprovals to the entire world. I gave into temptation and picked up the papers, eagerly gobbling up my hearty portion of bitterness. After I finished, I reclined in my chair, even more satisfied at the new chapter of my book than when I had written it. I smiled with fulfillment as the only correction I scrawled at the bottom of the page was...
“Too many adjectives”

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Hey guys! I finally had time to post chapter three. I hope you like it! ^_^ Sorry it was so long...some of the later chapters are even longer than this, so I might break them up to make it a little easier to read. Anyway, as always, please read and review! ^_^ Much love for you all!

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