Author's Notes: Decided not to wait so long before updating again. Why? Because I love all my reviewers, that's why. Say it with me…."Awwww".
Urgh. *gags* That was too sweet for my liking. Let's just say that you guys are alright in my book and the non-reviewers get to hold a poisonous snake with their bare hands before it gets stuffed into their pants. Whoa, look at 'em wiggle!
Consider this my last writing project. I hereby announce my retirement! Oh what to do with all my free time?
;) xoxo
SINS OF OUR FATHERS – SHENANIGANS
~.~
1854 - Elena's Bedchamber, Chatsworth House, Derbyshire
~.~
It was her constant whimpering that awoke me from my restless slumber. It was restless in part due to the highly uncomfortable position I was perched on as I struggled to find a way to ease the sharp stinging on my behind, courtesy of Father's repeated lashings. And then there was Elena, my little sister who had difficulty getting some much-needed sleep - and a bath.
None of us knew what to expect when the physician finally arrived at my Father's summons. She was already half-frozen when I pulled her out of the icy pond, and then, my new friend Alaric had spent some time trying to revive her on the chilly banks, further increasing the chances of hypothermia. Doctor Maxfield had suggested on a hot bath to help, but all of us were taken aback at her violent struggles when she spied the tub full of steaming water.
I would never forget the look of utter terror on her small face as she cried and screamed in fright.
The good doctor labeled it as a form of severe stress syndrome, brought on by her recent traumatic experience at the Canal Pond that nearly claimed her life. Her sudden fear of water was concerning to all of us, but when the night came, that was when the panic attacks started.
Fortunately, our Mother and I had mutually decided to spend the night in her bedchamber, both of us unable to bear the thought of leaving our little troublemaker alone. My eyes snapped open upon hearing her choked cries, and I immediately launched myself onto her bed, ignoring the shooting pains stemming from my wounded buttocks.
"Elena?" I called out gently, my palms cupping her small face as I gazed down at her in fear.
Mama immediately appeared on her other side, her fingers reaching for her smaller hands as she echoed after me. "Elena? Darling, open your eyes, please!"
I experienced a moment of alarm when she didn't respond, her chest heaving with difficulty as her breaths became more and more shallow. It was as if she was reliving the drowning all over again; the signs of distress were evident as her body twisted and turned on the sheets.
"Shall I send for Doctor Maxfield, Your Grace?" Pearl's panicked voice came from the doorway behind me, but my attention was entirely focused on Elena to pay her any heed.
"Yes and hurry!" Mama croaked out. "Damon, what do we do? Elena – she won't wake up."
We both knew that it might well be too late by the time help arrived, so I took matters into my own hands. I wasn't about to sit idly by and watch my little sister struggle for breath in her sleeplike trance, so I pulled her up bodily and enveloped her into a hug as I set her down onto my lap.
"I'm here, I'm here! You're safe with me now, Elena. I've got you and I'm not letting go. Just breathe, Brown Eyes. Breathe," I implored with urgency. My hands rubbed her back gently, her head lolling on my shoulder with both eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Her hysterics went on, and I could hear Mama sobbing into her hands as I murmured words of comfort into my sister's ear, hoping that she could hear me and realize that she wasn't physically in that murky depths of water.
"What's wrong?" a sleepy voice rang out from the doorway. It was Stefan with one hand rubbing an eye.
"Elena," I managed to choke out.
He said nothing more as he approached the bed, his wide eyes now focused on the brunette leaning into my chest. There was real fear in them, mirroring what I felt then. I had to keep trying.
"Elena, if you open your eyes, you will see that you are safe in your bed, surrounded by people who love you," I pled softly. "You're making Mama cry. Do you know that? We are all worried and afraid for you, because you are unwell. Even Stefan is here, about to wet himself in fear. You know how much he detests wearing wet trousers."
Fortunately, my brother did not put up a fuss when I uttered that one fib, knowing that I was merely attempting to spark a reaction in our sister.
"Perhaps you should talk about the animals. She was so eager to save them this afternoon," he suggested in a whisper.
I was willing to try anything, especially when the idea of Stefan soiling himself did not even manage to bring forth a little chuckle from the normally enthusiastic child. Besides, it wasn't often that he had a functioning brain. I nodded.
"Remember all the chickens and the goats that you met today? Imagine what would happen to all of them tomorrow if you were not here to protect them from the Cook? I'll bet that he is going to cook some of them, maybe even one of Billy's kids, or his wife, or Missus Chicken for lunch! And what about dinner? He could be serving stewed Billy with potatoes and onionsfor dinner!"
Two pairs of eyes stared at me as if I had taken leave of my senses, and perhaps I had, but this was Elena. There had to be a limit as to how many times I could potentially lose my sister. I ignored them and went on, resorting to threats now.
"If you don't wake up right now, I'll-I'll eat every single one of the animals in our farm. You haven't met all of them yet, but there are also cows and-and-and pigs and rabbits and geese. Stefan and I will instruct Cook to slaughter all of them, starting with their babies!" I announced with false determination, hoping that the thought of killing adorable baby animals would be enough to incite an angry glare from my brown-eyed sister.
It wasn't.
Then I resorted to pleading once again as I closed my eyes and rocked her. "Brown Eyes, you simply have to be better, otherwise…who would mourn for the cooked chickens today? Who would name them and bury their bones to give them a final resting place as they died to feed our family? Who else is going to stand up for the rest of them, to fight for their rights not to end up on Cook's chopping block? Only you are brave enough to do all that, because you are one courageous girl who needs to live!"
I felt a single breath on the skin of my neck following my rather impassioned speech, hearing a word being gasped out. I drew back in alarm to see that the girl in my embrace no longer had her eyes closed. Her chest was no longer heaving with difficulty, nor was she as pale as she was before. By some miracle, she was breathing! I didn't even notice when the hysterics stopped.
"Dead…."
I frowned when she repeated the faint word that I heard just moments before, puzzled that she chose that one in particular as soon as she was able to speak.
"What is it, Elena?" I asked gently, relieved to see her regain consciousness and lucid once more. It was hard to see her being weak and unresponsive when I was so used to her vibrant and exuberant self.
"Name of chicken," she mumbled, her eyes drifting close again as she yawned in exhaustion, burying her head in my neck once more. This time, I didn't panic because I could feel her heart thudding steadily against my chest. "For tombstone."
My eyes widened in understanding and I released a hearty laugh, much to Mama's and my brother's surprise. I snatched Elena up and gave her such a tight squeeze that for a moment, I worried if I was going to deprive her of air once again. But I couldn't help it; she was just too darn adorable, even at the brink of death. My little precious gem.
"Damon, what has gotten into you? Is my baby all right?"
I sat on the bed, grinning broadly at my anxious Mother and pressed a quick kiss on my little comedienne's forehead. "Your baby intends to engrave the name 'Dead Chicken' for the tombstone of our lunch today," I laughed, my shoulders shaking as I shook my head. "First name 'Dead', last name 'Chicken'."
"Oh, wonderful! So we're supposed to organize funerals for our food after every meal now?! And name every single one of them?" Stefan groaned out while slapping a hand to his head.
"Shhh! Sleepy time now!" scolded an irate Elena, her voice gaining strength now that she was able to breathe properly. Stefan quickly clamped his mouth shut and stared at her warily until she drifted off again.
A harassed-looking physician arrived an hour after the episode, only to find a little girl who appeared to be well enough to sleep soundly through a medical examination. As soon as he had left, I returned to my previous position as a human pillow, wrapping her into a safe cocoon once again. I spent the rest of the night with a smile on my face as I held her sleeping form against me, oblivious to my still throbbing behind.
Peace at last….and then Stefan started snoring.
"Dearly beloved," Giles' voice bellowed over the sounds of clucking and neighing in the background, "We are gathered here today to mourn the death and celebrate the short life of...well, umm...of-"
"Dead Chicken Salvatore," I provided helpfully, my lips upturned as I watched the butler's awkward hesitation. No doubt his extensive job description did not include presiding over a funeral for an animal's death by fire, butter, herbs and some seasoning.
His throat cleared as several snickers were heard and he went on. "Yes, Dead Chicken...Salvatore. We all haven't known him for very long, in fact some of us have not had the pleasure to meet him or to sample his...succulent flesh, but ah, I've been told that he was...delicious and tender. He will always be remembered as the brave warrior who gave his life to fulfil the needs of others and know that he did not die in vain."
The sound of a young elephant's trunk blowing reverberated across the enclosure as a forlorn Elena blew her nose into a handkerchief, startling most of the servants who were invited (forced!) to attend the memorial service at her insistence. I squeezed her small hand in mine and urged her forward to drop a rose she had brought for this occasion.
"Farewell, Dead. I will miss you dearly. I promise I will look after your family and friends for you. Be at peace," she whispered before placing a stalk of white rose on a small mound on the ground.
Stefan and I followed suit with identical grins on our faces, and then our Mother solemnly led the subdued girl back towards the house. As soon as she was out of earshot, a chorus of giggles rang out among the servants who shook their heads at the experience they just went through.
"How about a little respect for the dead?" a scowling Giles said with a glare. "Go back to your posts, all of you, and make certain that I do not hear gossip of this outside of Chatsworth!"
The servants scurried off at his command, most of them still wearing broad smiles.
"Worried about your reputation as the dignified and stern head of staff, eh Giles?" I teased.
The older man straightened his back and brushed imaginary dust off his lapels. "Lady Elena is one of the rarest and gentlest souls I have met and it would sadden me if her compassion for all living beings be misinterpreted as foolhardiness by people who do not understand her."
"Aww, you old softie. You love her so, even after she coerced you into holding a service for a bird. It was a beautiful speech, by the way."
His face reddened at my compliment and as he turned back to head into the house, I heard him mumbling, "There was no coercion needed. I would do anything for that child."
Pursing my lips as I stared at his retreating back, I nodded in agreement. So would I.
"Damon, are we not allowed to eat anything? Ever?"
The question was posed by my little brother, whose stomach was grumbling loudly as we followed in the wake of the aged butler.
"Don't be silly, brother. I'm sure Cook will think of something that will appease our sister and satisfy your large appetite. After all, we are all growing children, and God forbid if Father's going to start eating only tea and biscuits for every single meal," I answered, trying to imagine Father's wrathful expression as he was being served a meatless meal repeatedly. Hell hath no fury like a man without his healthy serving of animal carcasses.
"Speaking of growing children, does Elena know of your departure for school next week? I wonder how she will cope without you here, tucking her in every night," he asks, his expression forlorn.
If I didn't know any better, I might think that he was actually going to miss my absence. How odd.
"No, I have yet to tell her, and honestly, I haven't the faintest idea how I am going to do that."
With a heavy heart, I made my way into the house, my mind now preoccupied with various scenarios where I would tell my baby sister that I was going to have to leave her behind while I went to school. And all of those scenarios had the same conclusion; my heart would be broken into tiny little pieces.
~.~
1854 – Chatsworth House, Derbyshire
~.~
(one week later)
"Where is she?" I asked in frustration as I craned my neck back and forth, standing on tip-toes and hoping to catch a glimpse of my brown-eyed magician of a sister who had just pulled off a disappearing act.
I hadn't seen her ever since I finally mustered up the courage to tell her the truth the previous night, that I was about to go off to boarding school where 'one would learn the ways of the world', as Father had described it. She had simply stared up at me with wide round eyes and a suspicious quiver of her chin, before she promptly announced that she needed Mama and ran right out of her own bedchamber.
She remained elusive until now. I knew that she was upset, perhaps even angry at the thought of my leaving but one would think that she would have wanted to bid farewell to her favourite brother before I left for several months. My excitement at being able to venture out into a world outside of Chatsworth was dampened at the thought of being apart from her for the first time in my life, only able to return home to see her during the holidays.
"I reminded Elena that you were leaving this morning, but the poor girl was still so very upset that she pretended she didn't hear me. But she will come down any minute now to see you off, I know she will," Mama said with a sympathetic smile, crushing me into a hug as tears of sadness escaped the corners of her eyes. "She loves you too much to miss this."
In the midst of worrying about my sister, I had forgotten that I would also be leaving behind my most beloved mother, the woman I held and continue to hold in the highest regard. Her health had been inconsistent so far, and I had devoted most of my time looking after the baby of the family that I failed to remind myself that I needed to look after Mama, too. I had failed her as a son and now I would be leaving her to fend for herself, with two handful children to mind.
"Oh, I'll miss you the most, Mama," I exclaimed in earnest, throwing my arms around her thin frame. I hadn't realized how much weight she had lost. I hadn't embraced her in years, ever since Elena had suddenly come into our lives and brought mayhem and various escapades along with her. "I'm sorry I haven't been spending much time with you. I miss the days when it was just the two of us, spending hours in the rose garden, me sitting on your lap and laughing."
I sighed deeply, thinking that time passed by too quickly to enjoy every minute of it. Seeing my frail-looking mother now, so visibly upset that her eldest boy is going away that I wished I could stay and relive all those special moments with her.
"We shall have those days again, my darling boy, except 'twould be me sitting on your lap, for you have grown to be a man now, and a wonderful one at that. I don't know what I would do without you here, being my pillar of strength, my best friend and being the best older brother for Stefan and Elena. They are very fortunate to have you in their lives, Damon. But now you must go and live your own life, and have your own experiences. I'm so very proud of you, my son," she declared, her blue eyes shimmering down on me as her smile widened.
I hadn't seen that smile in a while and I took my time to revel in it.
"Ah, your ride is here, boy," Father's gruff voice called out from the main entrance of the house.
For a moment, I panicked as the footmen started carting my packed belongings out, presumably to load them into a coach. Now that the time was upon me, I found myself neither wanting nor prepared to go, but there was no way out of it now. Before I knew it, I was being herded out of the foyer by my parents, with my mother fussing over my jacket and hat while my brother trailed behind us.
"Wait, wait," I called out in alarm. "I haven't said goodbye to Elena! She-she's not-"
"I don't know where she is, Damon," Stefan said. "I will tell her when I see her."
My heart gave a painful twinge knowing that I made her upset the last time I saw her. While I was hoping to see her this morning, she chose to stay away, perhaps thinking that I was abandoning her when I had little choice in the matter. And while I was wallowing in my own sadness, Father was going on about how I had to study hard and to bring pride to the Salvatore name.
"-be the best in your class and year. I shall not expect to hear of any wishy-washiness on your part, son. And let's not keep the Duke of Northumberland waiting as he is kind enough to offer you a ride to Charterhouse with his son. You remember Alaric, don't you?"
As he came to the end of his dialogue, we were greeted by the tall and smiling Duke standing alongside an elegantly dressed blonde woman and his sandy-haired son by their horse-drawn coach with their family colours and crests prominently displayed at the sides. He introduced the woman as his wife, Dianne Saltzman, the Duchess of Northumberland. And of course I remembered Alaric; he saved Elena's life. I would forever be indebted to him for that.
With a beaming smile on his face, my newest friend greeted me with a handshake and a clap on my back. "Good to see you again, Damon. I see we're missing one more Salvatore today. Where is the ever-entertaining Lady Elena?"
Shrugging in defeat, I glanced over my shoulders at the front of the house but her continued absence was disheartening enough as it is. "She's not coming."
"How has she fared after what happened last week?" he asked with a frown, concern etched on his face.
"She planned a funeral for the chicken we ate last week. She named it and we had a proper burial and everything," my brother intervened, eager to contribute to our conversation so as not to feel left out. I supposed Alaric was his first friend as well. We, the Salvatore children, were a sad bunch.
"So she's normal," Alaric ventured with a relieved chuckle.
"Actually, she's anything but," I replied, returning his smile.
"We should begin our journey if we were to get the boys settled in by nightfall," the Duke spoke up while escorting his wife back into the carriage, nodding for his son to follow suit.
Running out of time, I turned to Stefan and after a brief moment of hesitation, I pulled him into a hug and ruffled his fair hair before I took my hat off to place it on his head. "You're wearing the big brother hat now, Stefan. Remember to spend some time with Mama and Elena as often as you can. Look after them well! And keep an eye-"
I was forced to let him go when I felt a firm grip on my elbow, leading me to my waiting ride. It was Father with a stern expression. He seemed to be the only one who was eager to see me go. Even Giles and Pearl who were standing rigidly next to the double doors leading into the house seemed saddened.
As I passed my tear-filled mother, I pressed a hasty kiss on her cheek before entering the spacious cabin, taking the seat beside Alaric. I leaned my head out the window, shouting the rest of my instructions to my brother as we started moving forward.
"Keep an eye on Elena for me. Nay, keep both eyes on her at all times!"
"Remember to tuck her in every night before bed, and read her bedtime stories until she falls asleep. Stay with her all night if she's afraid!"
"She hides under her bed whenever it rains, so be sure to look for her there and stay with her, for goodness sake!"
I had to yell at the top of my lungs now as the coach gained in speed but Stefan was running along with us, attempting to catch up and waving his hand in farewell. "Tell her I'll be home soon and write to me, brother! Write every day! I will–"
It was too late. He had fallen behind and the distance was now too far for him to hear, so I gave a final wave at his still figure behind us and then settled back in my seat. I sat in morose silence and stared out at the passing scenery, my eyes misting with sadness. Suddenly, loneliness swept over me.
"-miss everyone," I muttered under my breath, trying valiantly to suppress the urge to bury my head into my arms and weep all the way to my new life.
~.~
1854 – Stables, Chatsworth Grounds, Derbyshire
~.~
(Meanwhile, from a six-year-old's POV)
Tippy toes. Tippy toes. Halt. Look around. No one in sight.
Tippy toes. Tippy Toes. Halt. The air smells foul out here. Pinch my nose shut.
Bigger tippy toes. A big wooden door!
"This must be the entrance," I whispered to myself. I pushed the large grippy thing but nothing happened. I pulled it with all my might and it swung open suddenly, knocking me down onto the ground. I scowled at the door and picked myself up, finding a large brown stain at the seat of my breeches, having 'borrowed' it from Stefan's wardrobe.
Lucky I wasn't wearing one of my white dresses for this. I poked my head into the opened doorway and I immediately felt my eyes watering at the stench. Seeing no one in there, I walked up to the nearest horse I could find, my neck craning as I looked up at the black beast in front of me.
"Sir Horsey? I'm Ele-Stefan Salvatore," I quickly amended, not wanting the horse to know my real name lest anyone asked him. "Might I ask you for a favour?"
I waited for the horse to respond and when he didn't, I took that as a yes. "I'm wondering, could you take me to Damon's school? Right now? You do know Damon, don't you? Dark haired brother of mine, pretty blue eyes, the kindest heart in the world?" I described for him and then realized how silly I was being. Of course the horse could not see his heart since it was hidden beneath layers of clothing.
The horse did not answer but swished his tail instead. I believe that was another yes!
"Oh, good! I was afraid you were going to say no, and then I'd have to repeat the story again to another horsey, but you are certainly the most obliging one in here! I have no money to pay you but I am certain Damon does! You don't mind if he pays you when we arrive, do you?"
Again, he said nothing. Well, he was certainly a horsey of few words, if any. "Excellent! Now I don't know how old you are but I am only six so I am – understandably - the shortest in the family. Although, the chickens are much shorter than I, but perhaps they are only five years old and have not fully grown yet. Anyway, I think I might have some difficulty reaching your back, so will you please sit down so that I can reach you?"
Silence. And then another thought struck me.
"Sir Horsey, do you not speak English? I do not know any other language except for that one word in French, but people seem to have a peculiar reaction whenever I said it. Perhaps if I speak slower? Would. You. Mind. Sitting. Down?" I asked loudly but still politely, not wanting him to think I was being rude the way I was shouting. "Sit down, please!"
"My lady!"
I whirled around guiltily, my arms spread wide to hide the horsey. I was not supposed to be in there!
"I was looking for my hairbrush!" I blurted out without much thought. Then I saw that it wasn't the Head Groom, but a young boy with light blond hair around Stefan's age. Perhaps he knew Damon, too. And perhaps he could speak horse! "Can you speak horse language?"
"W-what?" he asked and blinked. Oh! I have not tried blinking at the horsey.
"I was trying to convince Sir Horsey to take me onto his back, but he can't seem to understand me. Will you help?"
He stared at me open-mouthed and then at the horsey, and then back at me. "My lady, you are not supposed to be here all alone. It's dangerous. You could get hurt!"
Hurt? But there was no pool of water around the stable. "So you've heard about what happened last week, have you? I'm all right and thank you for your concern, whoever you are. Now about that horse-"
"I'm Aaron and I work here at the stables. I really don't think you ought to be in here," he said as he moved to stand in between the horse and me. How kind of him to offer to carry me up instead.
"I know I'm not. I'm supposed to be with Damon at his school, but now I'm afraid I won't catch up to him," I admitted as I stepped closer and lifted my arms for him. "Do you happen to know where the school is? Is it very far? A little further than the farmyard, perhaps?"
He stared at me and blinked again, making no move to lift me onto the horsey. My arms were getting tired while I waited.
"Shall I put my arms down now? I feel a little silly holding them up while you blink at me. Perhaps a chair then?"
Aaron shook his head and then held onto my arm, leading me away from Sir Horsey. "That horse you were talking to is new and untrained. Knight could have killed you had you gotten any closer!"
Killed me?! Surely not! "He was being an absolute gentleman just now, very well-mannered and polite. And where are you taking me? Are we walking to Damon's school? If I had known it was so near, then I wouldn't have bothered-"
I broke off when I finally realized where he was taking me. As I gazed in disappointment at the house, I knew that my escape plan had failed. Knowing what I knew now, I should have tried blinking at the horse instead!
~.~
1854 - Dormitory, Charterhouse Boarding School, Surrey
~.~
(Damon's POV)
A letter arrived from home today, a whole two days after I left my family behind. Throwing my book bag on the floor, I sank down onto my bed and ripped off the seal and eagerly poured through it.
~.~
Dear Damon,
It is I, your brother, Stefan. I hope this letter finds you well.
Something happened yesterday while you were about to leave for school and I feel it is my duty to keep you informed. It is a matter concerning our sister. While we were wondering where she went off to, she attempted to run away from home to follow after you, but fortunately, her efforts were in vain. Aaron, the stable boy, caught her in the stable, trying to persuade a new horse to bring her to you.
It was lucky he found her when he did, or she could have gotten a deadly kick from the animal as she was shouting at it when he walked in. She was, once again, dressed as me. Father was not happy with her attempt. She was appropriately punished and sent to her room without supper. She was unable to sit down, though.
Mother sends her love. We all missed you.
Sincerely,
Your brother.
~.~
I shook my head in disbelief at Elena's latest shenanigans, finding relief that she was found by Aaron. I shuddered to think of the possibilities if she were to attempt to ride an untrained horse, or worse, actually riding one and ending up in another country.
Several days later, a similar letter arrived for me. This time, I had to laugh out loud at the latest update.
~.~
Dear Damon,
OUR SISTER IS OF UNSOUND MIND!
She has attempted to round up all the goats, attached Mother's scarves on them as a harness and attached them to a barrel, in which she entered. She even took several of the baby chicks along in there, informing them that she was going to show them the world, starting with your school.
Then, she sat in there for well over an hour while the goats moved around the farmyard in a disorderly fashion, while she continuously shrieked, "Seek Damon, tiny horsies!"
Father's vein was about to leap off his forehead! She is now forbidden to leave her room for an entire sennight as punishment.
Please come home.
Sincerely,
Your brother.
~.~
Three days after that, a more subdued letter came for me. This time, my brother did not even bother with the pleasantries.
~.~
I hereby resign from the appointed position as big brother. You may have your hat back.
SHE managed to convince the servants to sneak some chickens into her bedchamber, and adopted a piglet as her little sister. The pig spent one night in her bed until Pearl found them this morning, sleeping on soiled sheets.
Father is immensely displeased. I do not expect her to be able to sit for a year.
She also asked me to inform you of her immense displeasure for your continual absence.
Stefan
~.~
With a worried sigh, I knew that underneath all the mischief she had cooked up, there was an underlying reason for it; she was lonely. A child needed to have company, other children of a similar age where they could play together, laugh together and share toys with each other. She did not have anyone other than two older brothers all her life, and a Mother who was unwell most of the time.
She needed a friend. But what sort of friend could one acquire for a six-year-old?
~.~
1854, Summer – Chatsworth House, Derbyshire
~.~
I was beyond ecstatic to be home. I couldn't sit still the entire way back, fidgeting and constantly peering out the window to see if I could spot my stately home in the distance. The moment we crossed the river Derwent and the Hunting Tower that sits four hundred feet above Chatsworth House came into view, I was prepared to make a jump out of the moving coach and run the rest of the way home.
The moment the vehicle slowed down in front of the massive building, I bid a hasty farewell to the Saltzmans and thanked them for the ride before I took off as if the devil was on my tail. I burst through the doors without knocking, startling a footman when I stormed in unannounced. I gave him a little wave and went in search of my family, my left hand gripping an item that I was eager to give my little sister.
I made my way to her bedchamber first. Her door was ajar when I arrived, so I pushed it open gently, expecting to find a pouting little girl, no doubt plotting her next big idea to drive our father insane. It was empty.
Puzzled, I then head to my parents' bedchamber, only to find it unoccupied as well. Then I heard a sound that I had missed in my excitement to see them, drifting down from the second floor of the south front. It was a sound I hadn't heard in this house, ever.
Music. The pianoforte being played. A choir of voices.
The mystery deepened. I headed upstairs and to the State Music Room where I knew that a pianoforte stood for as long as I could remember, covered under a sheet. There was no mistaking the beautiful melody coming from it now as I ventured closer. The sight that I found was the most adorably amusing sight that explained why I did not run into anyone else on my way there.
Elena had most of the senior staff standing in front of a fireplace arranged according to height, the men in the back row while the women were in front. For once, the usually imposing Rupert Giles were standing arm-in-arm with his distant cousin, Randy Giles, Father's valet. I had never seen the servants more animated. What was more unusual was that they were smiling and singing to one petite brunette who was standing at the edge of a chair, swinging a branch with her right hand in time with the music while holding onto a wriggling piglet with the other.
Mother was sitting at the pianoforte, her graceful slim fingers flying over the ivory keys, her expression serene and beautiful. My little brother was standing right beside her, his feet tapping away while he sang along.
"For she's a jolly good piglet, for she's a jolly good piglet…for she's a jolly good pigleeeeeeeeet," a collective pause and then, "and so say all of us!"
"So whose birthday is it and why wasn't I invited to the celebration?"
Several shocked gasps came as an answer and heads swiveled in my direction. Then a loud girlish shriek and suddenly my face was buried under wavy brown hair as Elena leaped at me in a bone-crushing hug; branch, little pink pig and all.
"Damon! Damon! Damon! You're home at last!" came an excited squeal in my right ear while I struggled to hold the little girl up.
"I am but I thought you were angry at me for going away," I teased, pressing a swift kiss at the side of her head.
She pulled back and frowned, and then clambered off of me, a sheepish expression on her much slimmer face. Must be all those missed suppers.
"I was – I am! I simply forgot," she announced with a little lift of her chin. I recognized her classic stubbornness if I ever saw one.
"Well then, I suppose an apology is in order," I told her with a wink, handing her the little souvenir I hunted high and low for during my weekend with Alaric out in London. "A present for my lady if she would agree to forgive and forget."
Her eyes were as wide as orbs as she unwrapped the package, a delighted grin spread on her face when she saw the content. "It's a-a-a doll?" she wondered, her fingers caressing it ever so gently.
"It's a stuffed bear…not a real bear but one made of cloth and beans," I amended hurriedly in case she thought that I would go out and hunt a living one just to beg for forgiveness. "He's your new friend and he has specific instructions to keep you safe when you go to bed every night. He also gives very good bear hugs, I'm told."
Elena seemed delighted as her gaze rove lovingly over the brown coloured toy. "What is his name?"
I shrugged. "Well, I don't know but I am particularly partial to the name Cuddleworth," I told her with a smirk. Heaven knows how much she loved to cuddle up in bed with me especially during the week following her incident at the Canal Pond.
"I shall treasure Lord Cuddleworth forever and bring him with me everywhere I go. Thank you, Dummo," she mumbled as she gave me a genuine hug, no traces of forgotten anger anywhere.
"Son," Mama whispered as she slowly stood up, a slow smile beginning to form as she gazed at me. "You're home."
Then I found myself in her crushing embrace followed soon after by yet another from Stefan, who appeared to be relieved that I was back. How strange but he didn't seem to be at the end of his wits just a moment ago when he was singing to a pig.
"I'm home," I whispered back.
~.~
1866, December Twenty-Third – Stables, Chatsworth House, Derbyshire
~.~
Pain.
Excruciating pain etched into every fiber of my body as I walked down memory lane of happier times in my childhood home. It followed me everywhere I went in the dark and gloomy house; from the nursery where she took her first steps and spoke her first word; to her bedroom where I had comforted her as she suffered from panic attacks as a child, her bed where we spent hours talking about whatever her inquisitive mind could conjure up, and where we had lain on as we planned to spend our lives going on our own adventure after a passionate night of lovemaking.
Every part of this house seemed immersed in her very essence, in part because she spent most of her life trapped in here but also because this house became a home because she was in it. But now, all it was, was an empty hollowed shell without any warmth, without a heart.
I had to get out.
I hadn't said a word to anyone other than my anguished "No!" that was torn out of me when I walked back into this house. Despite the many answers that my family was hounding me for, I couldn't bring myself to talk about the how's and the why's she was gone. I just kept getting assaulted with memories of her, constantly reminding me of the gaping hole now left in my chest as seconds go by.
My preoccupation with my inner thoughts brought me to another building – the stable.
What led me there, I didn't know or care. My gaze was immediately drawn to a magnificent creature standing in the middle of the room, a black beauty of a horse I had sent away late last night.
"Knight," I whispered, raising a trembling hand to stroke my horse, feeling its muscles rippling underneath my touch. He snickered in recognition of its master, his head lowering slightly in greeting.
I loved this horse of mine, a present from my Father the year I left home for the first time. In fact, Elena had met him before I did, for he was the untrained horse that she had tried to convince to bring her to Charterhouse. And he had sent her to her death twelve years later. 'Tis a pity that I was about to shoot him dead for it.
"My lord," a quiet greeting came over my shoulder, spoken by a blond stable hand.
"Aaron."
I said nothing more as I continued to stroke the handsome Hanoverian warmblood.
"My lord," the man began again, "I heard about what happened…about Lady Elena. I wish to offer my condolence."
My eyes slid shut at the rush of grief at the mention of her name. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I nodded my acknowledgement.
"The men who returned from the river….they said that she was riding your horse last night, is that true?" he paused, waiting for an answer but I maintained my silence. "Be-because if it is, then there is absolutely no chance in hell that Knight would have returned so calmly if he had known that Lady Elena was in distress. If she had fallen into the river like the men believed, your horse would have stayed with her until help arrived. He wouldn't have returned to the stables all by himself."
I had trouble concentrating on his words, but from the gist of what I could hear, he was right about Knight. The man knew my horse about as well as I did, having trained with him from day one. Knight wouldn't return if he had known that his rider was in trouble.
"He was calm?" I croaked out.
"Yes, and he was drenched from the storm so I had to clean him up and brushed him down. He wasn't being skittish or anything like that at all."
Remembering something else, I stepped to the side of the beast, my fingers sliding over the spot where its saddle should have been placed. "The saddle - did you remove it yourself?"
"Aye, my lord."
"Was there a satchel attached to it?" I asked urgently as I pinned the man down with blazing blue eyes, my heart racing at a possibility I hadn't yet thought of.
"A satchel? Nay, there was none. There was a rope tied around the saddle but it wasn't attached to anything."
A missing satchel. A missing body. The red cloak that was found floating along the river without its former owner. A horse that returned to the stable by itself, as if ordered to do so. Four pieces of a puzzle that would lead to-
"Elena," I swore under my breath. Of course! Why didn't I think of this?
My mind brought me back to that memory of my missing sister the day I was leaving for Charterhouse. While the rest of the family and servants were gathered at the main drive to send me off, Elena had used the temporary distraction to stage a runaway attempt in this very stable. She was intelligent and crafty enough as a six-year-old, so why not now?
In a desperate attempt to throw the scent off herself from her pursuers, she might have concocted an elaborate scheme to cause a distraction that would effectively call off the search and ensured that nobody came looking later on. It was a brilliant tactic, one that only a fearless and bright girl could come up with and there was none other than her. And it worked!
"Aaron, gather as many of the able-bodied men as you can, and saddle up the horses as quickly as possible. Tell them to spread out and search every inch of this property, and then make their way south on this side of the river, hitting every single town on the way to Leicester. I'm taking Knight but I'm leaving right this instant. Have them send updates here every four hours," I instructed, already busy preparing to saddle my horse who could sense the urgency of this journey I was about to embark on.
"But my lord…what am I to tell His and Her Grace?" he asked in mounting alarm.
I swung myself up on Knight's back and swung the reins around, leading him towards the pair of opened doors. "Tell them Elena's alive and she's coming home. Hee-yah!"
I left a gaping Aaron behind as my horse and I sped away into the night, now no longer hopeless and bleak.
Hats off to Mara, my super-efficient beta who just published her novel 'Cheap Guitars'! You go, girl! The Kindle copy is already out for $2.99, and the hard copy will follow suit on Amazon in a week, so keep a lookout for it! You heard it here first. Thank you for making time to beta my little writing project, woman!
Okay, who here wants Ripper Damon to eat them? A show of hands, please! Alrighty, read and review and I'll talk to him about giving you all a little munch. And get your head out of the gutter!
Thank you very much!
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