Author's Notes: So it seems as if I haven't updated for a while. Wonder why that is….
Real life and my business and festivals and visiting family members, that's why. I miss you all. Truly. And we all unanimously agreed that little Stefan was a little shit in the previous chapter. What's next?
SINS OF OUR FATHERS – Growing Pains
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1866, December Twenty-Third – Nursery, Chatsworth House, Derbyshire
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"Why?"
A muffled wail was wrenched from deep within the chest of an anguished mother, a heartbroken woman who had raised three children in a houseful of servants, only to lose one of them.
Why, indeed? That question had been circling on an endless loop in my head ever since my best friend, Alaric Saltzman, the Earl of Leicester, broke the news to me. Why? Why her? Why did the universe take her away? Why did she have to pay for my selfishness…my mistakes? Why now and not much later, after she had lived a full and happy life?
Why hadn't it been me instead, I wondered as I stared unseeingly out the window into the darkness that was eclipsed only by the tormented shadows in my mind. I clenched my jaws tightly to refrain from screaming out in pain and frustration at the injustice of it all.
Everything was fine mere hours ago. I shook my head in disbelief as I marveled at how swift things had spiraled out of control; one minute Elena and I were happily contemplating a future where we could finally be together, unsuspecting of the coming horrors in our life, and the next, we were living it.
At least, I was living it. She was just…gone.
I still couldn't believe it. I refused to, because it hurt too damned much.
"Why was she out there in the storm? What was she doing all alone with your horse, Damon? Why did she venture so far out to the river? W-why did she have to d-d-die-?" Rosalyn Salvatore lamented, her shoulders heaving with inconsolable sobs as she choked on the last word, her fingers clasping the bright red cloak in a death grip.
What was I supposed to say? The truth? A lie? Would any answer provide an explanation that could possibly make any of this better? Would anything I say bring her back safely, as if nothing ever happened? What could I say that would provide a good enough reason for all of us to lose someone we loved dearly?
Nothing.
I was speechless, just like I had always been when it came to Elena. I buried my head in my hands as my mind took me back to a much happier time in this very house, in the very same room and surrounded by the same people.
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Nursery, Chatsworth House, Derbyshire – 1849
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"Over here, my little princess," my Mother's animated voice called out.
"I, for one, do not think she's able to do it," Stefan, my five-and-a-half-year-old younger brother announced skeptically as we kept our gazes on a small figure on the floor, his hands resting on his knees in a low crouch.
My brother and I were on opposite sides of the room while Mother was kneeling on the floor to my right, and our butler, Rupert Giles standing rigidly across from her. The four of us encircled the latest addition to our family, a now cherubic one-year-old Elena who was sitting upright in a very pretty embroidered white dress. Pearl and several other maids were scattered around the edges of the room, all watching quietly with expectant smiles on their faces.
"Must you always be the naysayer, little brother?" I retorted with a shake of my head.
We were all gesturing wildly for baby Elena to start crawling over to any one of us, which seemed rather concerning that she hadn't done it yet. I suspected that it was due to the fact that she was the most carried baby in the history of baby-carrying, and was rarely allowed to roam about freely out of fear of her getting hurt.
Mama was adamantly protective over her little girl, sometimes overly so. I knew this as I had been spending every night creeping out of bed to check on the baby, ensuring that she was still alive and unharmed. Sometimes, I would find Mama just sitting in the dark, staring off into space while cradling a sleeping Elena in her arms and not even noticing that I was watching from beside her.
Other times, and more often than not, Mama would be having one of her frequent sick spells that rendered her too weak to leave the bed, which I would then take it upon myself to rock the baby to sleep, humming softly to soothe her cries when none of the other servants could.
As a result, her unique brown eyes – which I was pleasantly surprised with, seeing as I was fervently hoping that she wouldn't inherit Father's mossy green ones as she grew up - would look for me whenever she heard my voice, her neck craning to catch sight of me as soon as she had learned to lift her head on her own. I was constantly right by her side whenever she learnt something new; akin to the first time she managed to roll onto her belly, or when she managed to sit up without any support.
Except now she was a year old but yet to learn how to crawl. I had a vague recollection of Stefan being able to explore on his hands and feet, even stand on unsteady feet much earlier than this when he was her age, and the reason I could recall that was because I always felt an urge to knock him back down whenever he came over to put his grabby hands all over my things.
It was even worse when he started walking.
I fleetingly wondered if I had been such a handful when I was little. Probably not, or Mama wouldn't have wanted another child. I must have been an exemplary baby, one who had always been on his best behavior that prompted my parents to yearn for another little ole me. How disappointed they must have been when Stefan turned out the way he did. Perhaps that was why Mother wanted a third baby.
Thus far, Elena proved to be much more tolerable than Stefan ever was. Ah, but he was fun to tease.
"Lady Elena," Giles called out hesitantly, looking uncomfortable to be cooing after a baby when he was so used to being dignified all the time.
"Come to me, Elena! If you can crawl over here, I will give you all of Stefan's toys, even his favourite horsey." My arms were stretched out towards my little sister, one holding said toy and nodding encouragingly at her while she sat in the middle, her wide eyes surveying me as if gauging the distance between us. I flashed an evil grin over at the green-eyed boy, secretly relishing the indignant look that appeared on his face.
"Damon!" Stefan whined with a stamp of his foot, causing me to chuckle with satisfaction.
"Dummo," a high-pitched voice echoed through the atmosphere, making everyone's heads turn towards the little brunette in stunned silence. Her pink lips were spread in a wide grin as she released a peal of giggles, her plump forefinger pointed towards me...it was either me or the bright blue horsey, but I preferred to think it was the former.
I stared at her in awe, my mouth agape in speechlessness. After many moons of incoherent babblings, she had just spoken clearly for the first time! Her first words were my name! Or at least a version of my name. She could have also uttered some mild insult, but I didn't concern myself with the thought. I was so delighted and proud of her that my name could be 'Dummo' Salvatore from now on for all I cared.
"Oh, my precious baby girl! Did you just call out to your big brother? Do you recognize him, then? How very clever!" Mama gasped breathlessly as her eyes started tearing up with pride, her fingers fanning over her face while she gazed at her daughter adoringly.
I felt like crying myself as I watched my mother slide over to snatch her up in her arms, twirling her around and laughing gaily. All those nights I spent watching over her, the times that I sung to her; they were not in vain. I hastily rubbed my stinging eyes before anyone could see. From the corners of my eyes, I could even see Giles struggling to restrain himself from breaking out into applause at Elena's accomplishment. Although, I swore I saw his eyes crinkling at the edges as he fought against beaming with pride before his face straightened once more.
"Ha ha, Elena just called you dumb," Stefan declared merrily, looking contented at what he deemed was an insult, perhaps still feeling rather aggravated after I had offered all his toys to her.
I cared not, for I was still reeling with shock at having the privilege to be the inspiration behind my little sister's first actual words. "Oh hush, brother. You are merely envious that she did not call you 'Stuffo' first. Is it not obvious by now that I'm her favourite brother?"
I ignored his sputtering denial, keeping a close eye on the little toddler who was struggling aggressively in Mama's arms, wanting to be let down. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she angled her body towards mine and took two sudden enormous steps on wobbly legs before they gave way. I must have already been reaching for her, for my hands caught her in the nick of time, propping her up before she could fall.
A chorus of applause and cheers erupted around me, but I was once again rendered speechless at yet another milestone she had reached right before my eyes, mere seconds after the first one! She had bypassed crawling and went straight to taking her first steps. It was a miracle!
I drew Elena's considerable weight over so that she sat on my lap, her attention now riveted on the horsey that I had enticed her with while I cuddled her. A little frown marred her forehead as she fiddled with the toy, her fingers spread open to explore it. Then she babbled in her usual baby gibberish as she waved it up triumphantly at me, as if she had just won a prize.
"B-but that's mine," a whine came from beside me.
Brothers. At least now he would realize how it felt when someone else played with something that belonged to him...without permission.
"Come now, darling. Let your little sister play with it for a little while," my mother's gentle admonishment came, quieting him down. "She has been such a clever girl today, with her very first utterance and then that little stroll towards Damon. 'Tis a pity your father was not around to witness them."
Her quiet sigh did not escape me, for I knew that Father had been spending less time at home recently. He had played the role of the caring husband for the most part of the previous year, but then, as Elena had steadily grown, he seemed to be less enthusiastic to be around her. I would catch him frowning at her at times, appearing to be displeased whenever she would do anything adorable that had Mama lavishing attention on her.
I didn't understand why, though. Having baby Elena in the house was a blessing, especially after that debacle of a week that drove Mama insane. Although she still had bouts of illnesses, my mother had seemed exceedingly happy and the atmosphere of the house had livened up considerably with the baby being the focal point of attention.
My muddled thoughts faded away as I felt some pressure on my face. I glanced down to see a small hand on my cheek, and found two wide brown eyes focused on me, the horsey toy now left forgotten to the side. "Dummo."
That settled it, then. I was most definitely 'Dummo', not the blue horsey. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.
"Yes, Brown Eyes. You found me! 'Stuffo' now owes you everything he owns, even the clothes he is wearing now," I solemnly declared with my very own moniker for her while I wrapped my fingers around hers at the side of my face, finding myself helplessly beguiled by the little girl on my lap.
Another small pair of hands reached out to hastily snatch the abandoned toy and then Stefan hurried over to plop himself on our mother's lap, cuddling it to his chest protectively.
"Mama, did you hear that? Damon is being mean to me! And do I really have to disrobe? I don't have to listen to him and give the baby everything I own, do I?"
Why, that whiny little tattle tale!
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Farmyard, Chatsworth Grounds, Derbyshire – 1854
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"Brown Eyes, meet our chickens. Chickens, I present to you Brown Eyes," I quipped as I made the initial introductions between one of our flock animals and a curious six-year-old girl.
To my surprise, the girl in question sank down into a quick curtsey in front of one particularly large bird while shooting me a disapproving glare from the corner of her eyes. "Damon, will you cease calling me that? Especially not in front of my new friends."
Had Elena not look so excited at the prospect of meeting new 'people', I would have found it sad that she deemed our farmyard animals as her new friends. She had not been allowed out of the house at all, and it was only after she had seen a real horse through a window and wondered aloud if it was sick since it wasn't blue in colour like Stefan's toy that I finally decided that it was time for her to experience life outside of the constricting walls of the mansion.
And so I took her - nay, I snuck her - out to our extensive farm to see the animals she had heard so much about through her bedtime stories, holding her dainty hand firmly in mine as I guided her through the pathway that led us there.
"But your eyes are brown, and there's little you can do about them other than to simply enjoy being different," I assured her as I rumpled her hair affectionately. I did love teasing her about that one 'flaw' that set her apart from the rest of our family.
"I know I'm an oddity and I would rather not be reminded of it. I wished I had your beautiful eyes, instead of my plain and rather ordinary ones. I wouldn't even have minded green ones like Stefan's," she sulked, gesturing over at our brother.
"You? Odd? For curtseying to a cock or for needing an introduction? Usually, I simply walk right up to them and ask for the time! " I teased her, finding immense joy in watching my sister teeter between amusement and remaining annoyed at the pet name I had given her.
"You did nothing of the sort!" she gasped, her lips tugging at the ends helplessly. "Chickens can't tell time, can they, Stefan?"
My brother straightened up amidst the act of scattering some chicken feed on the ground to peer up at our sister with a straight face. "Not all of them, but those male cocks can. That's why you can hear them crowing at dawn. Why don't you go over and ask one?"
I watched with interest as Elena picked up her skirt and marched fearlessly up to one that was perched on a fence post, its head moving constantly as she moved closer. To my amusement, she executed an awkward curtsey again before introducing herself in a respectful tone.
"How do you do, Sir Cock, sir," she greeted with a little head bob. "You must be the King as you're wearing what looks like a red crown on your head. My name is Elena and it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. If it is not too much trouble, might I have the time, sir?"
Stefan's shoulders began to shake uncontrollably as she waited for an answer, her small face taking on a serious expression. Torn between giving in to an urge to laugh or to take pity on her, I cleared my throat and decided on the latter.
"I was merely pulling your leg, Elena. Chickens cannot tell time, and they most certainly cannot answer you even if they could," I laughed. "By the by, that cock or rooster you are talking to is not a King but one of the hundreds we have on this farm. There are many Missus Chickens and little baby chicks over there as well. The Salvatore farm is known to have the more superior quality and size of flock in this state. And pray tell, why do you keep curtseying to the animals?"
"Why, because Stefan said that it is a sign of respect. Isn't-isn't that what we do when presented to an animal for the first time?" she asked, doubt beginning to appear on her face.
Stefan. Of course. Perhaps it was time for him to taste a dose of his own medicine.
"Not usually, no, but allow me to present to you...Stefan's distant cousins," I told her, gesturing her over to another section of the farmyard where the goats were kept. "Behold, Stefan Salvatore's look-a-like. I think that one in particular looks the most like him, don't you agree? They could be identical twins!"
The gullible Elena's eyes followed my finger that was pointing at a heavily bearded goat at the far end of the enclosure, its pointed horns protruding sideways from its head as it grazed on a patch of grass, munching lazily. I chuckled lightly when I heard her peals of giggles when she realized that I was poking fun at our brother. "A-and what is his name? And look! A whole family of Stefan look-a-likes!" she asked excitedly as she spotted kids running around the grass.
"I call him William Salvatore - Billy, for short. Before you came along, young Stef and Billy here used to have fancy tea parties with biscuits and cheese. That was before Billy fell in love and made a little family for himself. If you think that chickens can tell time, wait until you see Billy drinking tea from a china cup with its pinky finger held up. What a lovely pair they used to make," I jest, thoroughly enjoying myself as I draped an arm over my sister's shoulder, pulling her closer in a protective stance while shooting a challenging stare at my brother's dismayed expression.
"We did no such thing! There was no pinky finger-I mean there weren't any teas parties, and Billy certainly did not-HE'S NOT BILLY!" Stefan bellowed out indignantly, his face turning red with rising frustration. "Damon's lying; it's not true, none of it! Tell her, Damon!"
"Tell her, Damon," I mimicked in a girlish tone, my grin broadening as I nudged Elena, hoping that she would catch on.
The green-eyed monster glared at me with his mouth agape, tears springing into his eyes in an exasperated plea to be cleared of his association with a goat. "Elena, you believe me, don't you? You know that Damon is deliberately being an insufferable idiot, right?
Imagine my delight when my miniature collaborator giggled and joined in the fun in a high pitch voice. "Damon is being an insub-insta-in-insupportafable idiot," she finally pronounced after some difficulty with the unfamiliar word. She was only six. "What is an 'idiot'?"
"Oh dear, brother Stefan. Did you just teach an innocent little baby a foul word? Tsk tsk tsk, Father wouldn't be pleased to hear that," I shook my head and sighed dramatically. "Brown Eyes, you best not utter that kind of language around company."
With a little chin trembling followed by an exclamation of "Bollocks!", Stefan took off, stomping his way back towards the house and leaving two chuckling siblings behind.
"This is rapidly turning into one of the best days in my life thus far," I chuckled, dragging my attention from his retreating back to a baffled young lady. "What's the matter, little one?"
She chewed her lower lip and raised sheepish eyes to mine. "What's 'bollocks'?"
"Oh...it's French for 'good day', like a greeting of some sort." I gave her a grim smile and hoped that my well-meaning lie would be explanation enough for her young and curious mind. "Would you like to meet some cows ne-?"
"My lord!"
We both panned around towards the sound of Pearl's voice, finding her descending upon us like a protective mother hen about to have her eggs stolen. "There you are! Good heavens, I've been searching everywhere for you! Why is Elena out of the house? You do know that she's not supposed to go wandering off without His Grace's permission. Your mother was beside herself with worry when she could not find her," she chastised as she swooped in and wrenched the girl from my grip and started making her way back towards the house, leaving me to trail after them.
"Mama's awake? I was only showing Elena some of our animals on the property. We didn't venture very far," I explained guiltily. I could only imagine how panicked our mother had been to find an empty nursery with all three of her children gone without a word.
"Your father's rule is quite plain, Master Damon; the baby is not allowed to go anywhere without consent from either His or Her Grace, and Giles. Simply put, your father is going to have all our heads on a platter if he ever found out about this little adventure of yours."
Elena's head twisted around to gape at me in horror as her shorter legs struggled to catch up with Pearl's hurried strides. "Father eats people's heads?"
I shook my head and gave a comforting smile in the hopes of avoiding the potential of nightmares in the mind of a six-year-old's overactive imagination. "'Tis a figure of speech, little sister. Surely Pearl realizes how ghastly that sounded if it were true. And why are we in such a hurry, Pearl? Elena is practically flying through the air the way you are dragging her along with you."
Mother's personal maid flashed a sheepish look over at me and obligingly slowed down her pace before relaxing the tight grip she had on Elena's arm. "His Grace has returned home, and he brought along some friends of his; the Duke of Northumberland and his young son. He expects the entire family to be in attendance for lunch," she replied with an exhausted sigh.
It was common knowledge that the staff generally preferred my father's constant absence from the mansion. His presence seemed only to dampen the more carefree ambience, with his highly demanding commands and his expectance for compliance. I was surprised, however, to learn of his request to include the family for the meal, especially his normally veiled youngest daughter.
"Even Elena?"
Pearl nodded. "Yes, even the baby. Now run along ahead, my lord. I have already sent Master Stefan to his quarters to get cleaned up and attired for company, so you best be on your way as well."
With extreme reluctance, I quickened my steps into the west entrance of the house. Vaguely, I could hear Elena's pouty lament that she was no longer a baby and was a big enough girl to run along by herself, too. Then, I heard Pearl's loud admonishment for her to stop squirming like a little earth worm.
Oh boy, with little Elena present during lunch, I could already tell that Father's guests were in for a highly entertaining afternoon.
I was not disappointed.
Lunch was held in the formal State Dining Room, a lavishly decorated room with high ceilings covered in golden motives and bright red wallpapers. It was obvious that Father's intent was to impress, as it was usually reserved for very important and distinguished guests. Stefan and I were the first to arrive, followed by Father and an elderly gentleman accompanied by a sandy-blond haired boy much taller than I was, and appeared to be a few years older.
Introductions were made and I quickly learned that the Duke's name was Edward Saltzman and his only son, Alaric. Upon my mention of his rather peculiar name, I learned that they were of German descent, and it meant "ruler of all" in Gothic. I hoped that didn't mean that he was a future King of England or anything important like that, seeing as I was sorely in need of a male companion other than my idiotic brother. He seemed to be approachable enough, his expression open and friendly as he studied me with similar interest.
"Ah, here's my wife, Rosalyn with our youngest, Elena," Father announced upon the arrival of the remaining members of the family, standing up graciously as they joined us. "Rose, I would like you to meet Edward Saltzman, the Duke of Northumberland, my friend and business associate. This is his son, Alaric."
"It is truly an honour to meet one of Giuseppe's most trusted friends, Duke," Mama greeted in her soft-spoken manner, looking extremely pretty in her bright turquoise-coloured day gown. Then she turned to address the little girl standing slightly behind her in a brand new yellow dress, her wavy hair now artfully arranged and neat, a far cry from her usual dishevelled mess. "Darling, come say hello to the Duke."
Taking an uncertain step to the front, she bobbed into a wobbly curtsey for the third time this day and announced clearly, "Bollocks to you, Sir Duke."
Everyone stiffened following her rather offensive greeting, albeit being said in a very sweet approach. Then I realised it. She thought she was speaking French, wishing the Duke a 'good day'. Well, my head on a platter sounded like a very plausible idea right about now.
"I beg your pardon, little lady?!" the offended Duke gaped.
"Umm, my apologies, Your Grace," I hastily intervened while shooting a darting look over at Father's indignant expression. "Elena heard me using that...umm... word earlier, and I...I led her to believe that it was a proper form of greeting in French. I can assure you that she meant nothing malicious by it."
"I see." I could see the elderly gentleman perusing the naive girl with renewed interest, his head nodding absently. "Yes, that would make sense, then. No harm. That was quick thinking on your part, dear boy."
Phew! Just when I thought that a potential crisis had been averted, my sister apparently couldn't help herself from her natural sense of curiosity.
"You're Grace, too? What a happy coincidence! Father's name is also Grace!" she had announced excitedly, seemingly happy to be able to contribute more to an already awkward social situation.
"What nonsense are you going on about, child?" Father asked with both brows furrowed in confusion.
Elena trained her bewildered wide eyes at him, surprised that he seemed to have forgotten his own name. "Oh Father, your memory must have failed you again. The servants have to keep reminding you of your name over and over again. They all keep repeating, "You're Grace" and "He's Grace" to us everyday. And now Damon is reminding your friend that his name is Grace, too! Although, I thought your name was Edward earlier? I much prefer Edward, however, seeing as Grace is a girl's name."
I hated to admit this, but I very much enjoyed seeing the vein on Father's forehead throb as if it was about to burst after her explanation. Stefan's shoulders began to shake as he quickly stifled a burst of laughter, and even my new friend Alaric seemed to find the entire situation rather amusing. Mother was only able to shake her head helplessly as she fought to keep her lips from curving up at the ends.
I suspected that it was high time to teach young Elena about the correct forms of addresses in a social situation like this one. How else would a six-year old know the proper way to address a Duke or a Duchess? Heaven forbid if she were to bid the Queen of England as 'Madame Crowny'.
"Well...thank you, Lady Elena. I, too, prefer to answer to the name 'Edward' than to 'Grace', as you so rightly pointed out," the Duke replied with a straight-faced, although I could see a hint of humour in his kind eyes. "I must say, senile Giuseppe, this luncheon is turning out to be a rather surreal but highly enjoyable experience."
"Ahem, enough with the pleasantries. Shall we all take our seats then?" Father changed the subject abruptly before sending a disapproving scowl over to Elena.
Lunch was immediately served upon his signal, as several footmen attended to us like well-rehearsed performers. I saw Brown Eyes leaning over to Stefan who was seated right beside her to whisper with a puzzled frown, "Who is senile Giuseppe?"
"That's Father's name," he whispered back while keeping an eye out for Father's displeased eye.
"So he's Senile Giuseppe Grace Salvatore?" came her follow-up question as Mother offered to say grace for the entire table.
"No," Stefan hissed impatiently. "He is Giuseppe Salvatore and he is a Duke, so 'His Grace' and 'Your Grace' is his proper form of address. Now be quiet!"
I watched her small lovely face flicker with indecision and then she ventured one more question while everyone's heads were bowed before the meal. "So, when we say grace, we are not thanking Father for the food we are about to partake?"
"That's a different sort of grace!"
At this point, I had to make a conscious effort to press my lips together tightly so as not to laugh out loud. But alas, Elena was far from done with her inquisition.
"And when we pray every night before bed to 'Our Father who art in heaven', we are talking to our father, Giuseppe Salvatore who goes to heaven on a nightly visit, correct?"
"That's God!" came my brother's exasperated reply, his tone now getting louder and causing disrupt to Mother's mumblings of being thankful as one of her eyes opened to peer over at the commotion. "Err...amen, Mother. Well said, as usual."
"So Father is God?" Elena exclaimed as her lips parted in awe and confusion.
My body started shaking from the sheer willpower of holding back from mirth, and upon flashing a brief look over at my new acquaintance, I could see Alaric having the exact same problem. Our faces broke into huge grins at the same time.
Father (God!) cleared his throat and shot a meaningful look over at the awe-struck girl, effectively silencing any more questions she may have had for my brother. "As you can probably tell, Elena is a very intelligent and naturally curious child at a mere six years. Imagine what she could be like when she's older and of a marriageable age," he told the Saltzmans with a wry smile.
A constant headache? A comedienne? A bane in his existence? A rare and unpolished jewel?
I had very high hopes that she would turn out to be that very last one.
"Lady Elena," Alaric spoke up just then. "As the youngest and the only girl amongst your siblings, what is it that you do to fill the hours of your days?"
Elena cocked her head to the side as she pondered over his question. "I spend my days with my brothers and sometimes, I accompany Mama to the rose garden. But I think my favourite day so far had been today, for I had spent some time with cocks for the first time!"
"C-cocks?" croaked the astonished young man.
"Oh yes, very big and friendly ones. I have been told that the Salvatore cocks are far superior in size and quality in the state. They have large red heads and they are up bright and early by dawn. That is when they call out for attention," she announced smugly, feeling proud for being able to impart some knowledge of what she had learnt just mere hours ago.
This time, I couldn't help myself. Stefan and I were practically rolling on our seats, giggling helplessly while the other occupants stared at her in dismay. Then, that little chit dared to glance our way haughtily and went on. "What? 'Tis true. Damon introduced me to one just this morning, and I dare say it behaved far more gently than it looked at first. Sir Duke, sir? Do you have cocks? And if so, how big would you say they could grow?"
Stefan was engulfed with a coughing fit by then, and I had to thump him on his back while I struggled to breathe. The other five occupants of the dining table didn't appear to be able to react much other than to avert each other's eyes and picked uncomfortably at the food they were just served.
"Chickens," I gasped out finally when I stopped twitching from the hilarity. "She's talking about chickens that she saw in our farmyard."
"Oh, well thank goodness for that!" Mother exclaimed in relief.
"Why was she even at the farmyard when I expressly forbade her to leave the nursery?" Father asked in a clipped tone. That vein on his head seemed to be doubled up in size by now, so I knew that we had to tread gently from this point forth.
"Umm..."
"I have to say, that's a huge relief, knowing that you were referring to poultry, like this meat we were just about to enjoy," the Duke interrupted with a roar of laughter as understanding dawned on him. "I wouldn't claim to know if the Salvatore cocks are indeed of more superior quality than ours, but this chicken right here has been grilled to perfection. My compliments to the chef."
"Ch-chicken?"
I sensed a feeling of impending doom as Elena's face drained of colour when she realized what was being served on the table. Her young mind was unable to comprehend the thought of animals being raised as livestock, especially not when she had just met some for the first time in her life. To her, they were friends.
"Elena-" I began in a warning tone.
"You're eating chickens? B-but that's not possible, is it? Surely we don't eat our friends!" she lamented in rising alarm as she stood up to move away from the plate in front of her. "What about goats? Please, sir, tell me we don't eat goats, too."
"You're overreacting, child. They happen to be a very good source of protein and they are almost as common as chicken or duck meat," the calm man went on, apparently not noticing the look of utter disgust on her face as she clamped her hand over her lips with a low moan.
"Duck-? Father, you simply must put a stop to this! We cannot be eating our friends! 'Tis not a neighbourly thing to do! And what about Billy? If he's eaten, you would have killed Stefan's friend! And what of Billy's family? He's happily married and in love! He has children to care for!"
Father's brows snapped together as she continued to implore him with scared round eyes. "Who is this Billy fellow?" he inquired from Mother, who shrugged and shook her head. "I may have made a great error in judgment, Edward. Clearly, our daughter is simply too young to join in on our family functions. You are excused, Elena."
"B-but, Billy and the rest of the four-legged Salvatores! Oh, chickens have only two, though, so-"
"Upstairs, Elena!"
Her already huge eyes widened some more. "There are more animals upstairs? I have to save them!"
With a panicked shriek, she took off at top speed out of the dining room and was quickly followed by a maid, presumably to head upstairs to continue her advocate to save the lives of her new-found friends.
I almost felt sorry for my Father. Almost.
None of us knew what to say after the whole dramatic scene caused by one tiny person, so we all sighed deeply and pushed our plates away, our appetites now lost. After a lengthy period of awkward silence, Father gave a small cough and cleared his throat before attempting to salvage the rest of the luncheon.
"Edward, my eldest son, Damon is going to be attending Charterhouse by the end of the month. I know your boy has been enrolled in that school for the past three years, so I was wondering if he could take my son under his wing when he arrives there. My wife is very protective over him, you see, and I think that she would worry less if Damon has at least one familiar face he could consider as a friend when he's away from us for the rest of the year. I was hoping that your son could show him the ropes while he's there."
I frowned as I listened in on the conversation, my eyes meeting Stefan's as we wondered if Father was being serious. I was being sent to a boarding school? And how long was I supposed to be there for? What about my family? Wouldn't they be coming with me? And what about Brown Eyes? Who was going to look after her if I was gone?
"I beg your pardon, Father, but perhaps we should discuss this matter further? This is the first I've heard of it and I-"
"Nonsense, son," Father interrupted rudely with an offhand wave of his hand before reaching for a glass of wine. "Education is not a matter for discussion. You are attending boarding school and that will be all there is to it. Now, why don't you boys take young Alaric to explore the grounds for a bit while I visit with the Duke?"
We were being dismissed and there was not much else left to say that could possibly change his mind. As usual, Father did as he pleased without regard for much else.
Without a word, I slid my chair back and saw my brother and our new friend doing the same. Ignoring Father, I went and pressed a kiss on Mother's cheek and shook the Duke's hand before leading the way out of the house.
"I must say, you have a very interesting family, Damon," Alaric said once we were well underway towards Chatsworth's infamous landmarks: the Emperor Fountain and Canal Pond on the east side of the house.
"What you just witnessed was a good day, believe it or not. Our father is rarely home but when he is, we like to stay out of his line of sight as much as we can," I confided thoughtfully, feeling a strange sort of camaraderie with him despite a short period of time. Perhaps the fact that he was still here, talking to me willingly after an eventful luncheon proved that he wasn't one that scared easily.
I needed brave friends who were able to put up with my family. So far, he seemed like a good candidate.
"Yes, he's very authoritative, isn't he? My father is much less frightening, but somehow, I don't think he quite knew how to react to your little sister. She's quite a character."
I smiled to myself as I recalled the innocent way she had questioned Stefan earlier. And then later, with her talk about Billy the goat and saving all the animals from becoming food. "Yes, there is no other quite like her. I'm extremely fond of her so I must warn you that I will not tolerate any ill-meaning gossip about her," I cautioned him as we took a leisurely stroll with my little brother in tow.
"I wasn't about to say anything," he assured me with his palms held up high. "But I have a suspicion that this meeting of our families had something to do with her. Did you not notice anything peculiar?"
"What do you mean?"
"I think your father means to find a suitor for your little sister," he answered, and then stopped in his tracks when I made an abrupt turn to pin him down with a deathly glare. "Well, I wasn't a willing participant! She's too young for me!"
"She's only six!"
"Exactly!" he retorted back. "I don't court toddlers, and besides, I already have a girl in my life whom I love very deeply."
Well, that managed to calm me down somewhat. Not by much, though. What was Father thinking, finding Elena a suitor at such a tender age? She's barely even a young girl. "Well, if you promise you won't fall in love with my baby sister, then we can still be friends."
"As if anyone could ever love a creature like her," Stefan snorted in disgust. "She's amusing, yes, but other than that, I am fairly certain she is mentally ill. Why else would she think Father is God?"
If looks could kill, my family would be mourning the loss of Stefan Stupid Salvatore right now. He gulped when he saw my killing stare and promptly moved a few paces behind us, lest he should suddenly find himself missing a limb.
"I promise," the sandy-haired blond boy vowed while crossing his heart and holding three fingers up in the air. Then, his attention reverted to a short distance behind me. "Speaking of whom, by the way..."
I turned and followed his gaze, groaning out loud when I saw a short figure running towards us. "Brown Eyes, what are you doing out of the house again? Didn't Father just sent you upstairs? And what on earth are you wearing?"
My eyes narrowed when I caught sight of her apparel. For some unknown reason, she had rummaged through Stefan's wardrobe and thought it a good idea to adorn his much bigger clothes on her petite frame, causing his shirt and breeches to hang limply over her shorter arms and legs to graze the muddy ground.
"There were no animals to be saved upstairs, so I followed you. Do not worry because I came masked as Stefan, see?" she asked with a pose, grinning broadly.
Maybe for once, Stefan was right after all; she had to be a little bit unhinged to think that her trick would work.
"I'm afraid you have to go right ahead and turn around, walk straight until you see some steps in front of you, climb right up and march your way back up to your bedchamber and stay there, all right?"
My instructions were crystal clear, my tone perfectly serious, so one would think that she would listen, right? Not even close.
"Look, it's so pretty!" she exclaimed happily, appearing not to have heard anything I'd said at all as she ran right past our little group to reach the edge of the Canal Pond, which was a long rectangular-shaped lake that stretched as far as the eyes could see. I sighed in defeat and tugged my brother along, who was making imaginary loops beside his ear with his forefinger.
"Please be careful, Brown Eyes," I pleaded loudly in order to be heard across the distance. In her excitement to explore more of the grounds, she seemed to have forgotten my one cardinal rule when we were out on our own: she had to always hold on to my hand and never let go. "Come back here!"
Whether it was out of sheer rebellion or she was just hard of hearing, she ignored my warning and ventured further along the banks. The other two boys and I hurried along after her, even while she was busy expressing her wonder at seeing various new things and finding foreign objects.
"Wow, that's an odd looking thing!"
"Oh, that's one huge statue in the middle of the water! How did that get there?!"
"Look, Damon, there are things moving in the water!"
"What are those called? And what are these?"
"The house seems so small from way over here."
"Oh! I can see my own face down there! Hello! I'm Stefan's evil twin!"
Despite my concern over her safety, I was reluctant to put a stop to all the exploring she was doing, especially when she seemed so carefree and joyful at the simple pleasures that nature provided. Besides, a little bit of fresh air never hurt anybody. And with three of us looking after her, what could possibly go wrong, right?
A lot, actually.
"You parents never let her out of the house, do they?"
For a moment, I turned my attention to the smiling Alaric, looking as if he, too, was torn between concern and amusement with the pint-sized brunette. Elena had that effect on everybody. I shook my head. "Not at all. Something happened when she was a baby, and then after that, she was never allowed to go anywhere or do anything without adult supervision. She usually spends her time in the nursery or with my Mother. She's missing out on everyday life as a result, and I always wondered if we were depriving her of living her life to the fullest. Up until this morning, she thought all horses were supposed to be blue, courtesy of my brother's toy."
He whistled and then released a chuckle. "'Tis a pity then, for with her thirst for knowledge and an inquisitive mind like hers, she could learn things fairly quickly. I have no doubt she could be the smartest little girl in no time-"
"Damon, Elena's playing 'peekaboo' again. Is she supposed to stay under for so long?" Stefan suddenly asked, pointing a finger towards where Elena was last seen.
Only she wasn't there anymore.
"Oh God, no!" I swore under my breath as panic set in. I raced over to the edge of the pond, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but the water was too murky to see anything. There were tadpoles near the surface and then a deep and dark abyss with no girl in sight. "Stefan, didn't you keep an eye out for her?"
"I did! She was just standing around here somewhere and then she leaned down to put her hand in the water, and then she was just not there anymore."
He actually saw her fall?! "Stefan, you imbecile! Why didn't you say anything right that instant? She could be at the very bottom of the pond right now! We don't even know how deep the water is!"
His face turned ashen as the severity of the situation finally occurred to him. "Do-do you mean that I may have murdered our little sister?" he asked in a small voice, looking scared out of his mind.
"You better hope not, or I will make certain you're next!" I called out as I started peeling my shoes and clothes off, finding Alaric doing the same thing beside me.
"I'll help you look," he said simply and immediately jumped into the unknown depths.
"Run as fast as you can back to the house and alert anyone you can find. Bring as many as you can back here, you hear me? Hurry, Stefan!" I called out before I, too, disappeared under the freezing cold water where I found myself being surrounded by darkness.
I spent the next precious minutes repeating the same motion: swam blindly for a few seconds with my hands outstretched and then back to the surface for air and a quick check on Alaric's progress. It seemed like forever before my hands finally closed around something soft and long, so I gave it a hard tug but it wouldn't budge. It felt as if it was caught on something along the bottom and so I pulled with all the strength I had left in me before something gave way. Keeping my fist tightly closed around it, I swam towards the banks and shouted for help as soon as I broke the surface.
I was still sputtering water from my mouth when Alaric swam over to lift up the bundle I was hauling in. "You found her, you found her!"
I could only watch as he carried her to shore to lay the prone figure gently on the grass. I was half-clothed, wet and freezing, but I didn't notice any of it as I sat back to witness my baby sister being rescued. Something wet trickled down my face, but I left it unchecked as I watched her body jerk and twitch from his ministrations.
He seemed to know what he was doing, so I waited. And waited.
Brown Eyes. Would I ever see them gazing at me in exasperation again as I teased her mercilessly with her least favourite pet name?
Brown Eyes. Would she ever speak again, driving Stefan and our father mad with her constant babblings that never made sense?
Brown Eyes. Would I get to see her grow up to be a gorgeous woman with a rebellious streak and a ready smile upon her lips?
"Brown Eyes," I whispered aloud as Alaric placed his palms on her small chest over and over again.
A cough, and then a splutter of water, followed by more coughs.
She was moving. And breathing. And then her wonderful eyes opened.
~.~
"You had one task, Damon! One. Keep your sister safe," came Father's furious outburst as my brother and I stood with our heads bowed in his study.
I was dripping water all over the carpets but I had several heavy blankets wrapped around my shivering body. I deserved to be frozen to death. I deserved to be yelled at, even punished for what I almost allowed to happen.
"What was she doing out on the grounds with you? Why was she dressed in those ridiculous clothes that were too big for her? Why was she even in the water? Why didn't you send her back home as soon as you realized she was outside? Do you realize what you almost did? Do you comprehend that you almost got your sister killed due to your negligence? Do you know what that would have done to your mother? Do you?!"
Stefan was sobbing uncontrollably next to me, but I kept quiet because I had no answers. That seemed to enrage Father even further as he then pushed both of us down and had us bent over the side of his desk, removing my blankets as he did.
That was when the lashings started. One for me, one for Stefan. Neither of us spared. Both of us knowing that we deserved every single one. As long as the caning went on, so did his angry tirade.
"You should have been a more responsible brother!"
"You should have kept an eye on her!"
"You should have walked her back here!"
"You should have stayed with her the whole time!"
"You should have never left her alone!"
~.~
1866, December Twenty-Third – Nursery, Chatsworth House, Derbyshire
~.~
You should have never left her alone.
You should have kept an eye on her.
You should have stayed with her the whole time.
The words that my Father once uttered when I was thirteen echoed in my head as I began to shake my head following my Mother's line of questioning. It was as if it was déjà vu all over again, but this time, Ric wasn't there to help me breathe life into her. This time, I wasn't around to pull her out of her watery grave.
This time, I would never see her again. Because she's really and truly dead. And it was all my fault.
A zillion kisses to Mara, my super-stressed out beta who relaxes by knitting and playing Sims3 on her brand new spanking tablet and computer. Without her urging, I would have updated in 2015. Please read her stories on this site.
Also, tell me what you think of this version of Elena. Newsflash: 10-year-old Stefan is still a little shit. Surprise, surprise. Also, can anybody say DALARIC, the best bromance of all times? Hell yeah!
Please read and review, thank you very much!
My twitter: cgsa_cher or Cher Sue.