"What did you hear?" she demanded of Madoka once in the privacy of her own rooms.
"Not a lot other than Lord Pembridge's declaration."
"He only said he cared, it is nothing more. I hope you will see to it that the servants don't get any wrong ideas, I know you are friendly with them. He has no doubt had too much to drink."
"He is not known for excessive drinking."
"Then it will affect him all the more when he does choose it," Mai said.
A maid brought in their dinner, and they ate.
"So you will not concede that perhaps there was some truth to his words?" Madoka asked, once the meal was finished.
"I cannot be sure of anything these days."
"Do you dislike him so much?"
"I do not dislike him at all," Mai replied. "But it is hard to believe that any affection could be born out of genuine feelings and not his duty. I do not want love that begins that way."
"You would not accept him because his love began not how you wanted it to?" Madoka stood up. "Do you not realise how lucky you are? Do you not realise how fortunate you are to be allowed to marry the man you love?"
"Miss Mori, I—"
"I am a gentleman's daughter, Lady Astley. I may be here as your companion. I may be friendly with the servants. But if I married the man I love? I would be disowned by my family."
"I—"
"I have no fortune to speak of, nothing to tempt a gentleman or even a man of an acceptable trade. I am too old and too poor and I am doomed to a life of companionship, or perhaps to become a governor to the Lord's children…"
She faltered and fell back into her chair and wept.
"Miss Mori..." Mai placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.
"And now I have spoken out of turn again and—"
"No, no you have not. I had no idea you were holding all this within you. I have been so caught up in my own problems I had not considered yours. Please forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive."
"Now tell me, who is this man of yours? Does he return your affections?"
"He works for Lord Pembridge and I am not certain. Sometimes I think he does. But he knows I have a station over him, so it is not like he is ever going to have the courage to speak of his feelings for me even if he does have them."
"Will you tell me his name?" Mai asked.
"Perhaps another time," Madoka said, taking a few steadying breaths. "I do not want you to think me ungrateful for my position here. I enjoy being your companion very much."
"I know you do, I think if you did not you would make it quite clear."
Madoka could not help but laugh.
The two women embraced briefly.
"Perhaps we should have an early night," Mai suggested. "There have been a lot of emotions today."
"You are right," Madoka agreed. "Goodnight, Lady Astley."
"Goodnight, Miss Mori."
Once alone, Mai readied for bed and collected her book. She chose to read in bed, so that if she fell asleep, she would not have a repeat of the night two prior.
Yet she found herself unable to concentrate on the words in front of her, and so she began pacing the room.
Who could be the recipient of Miss Mori's affection? Who amongst the servants would catch the eye of a woman like Miss Mori?
Her first thought would be Takigawa, as he had an equally lively temperament. It seemed off. Matsuzaki had said Madoka had encouraged a pairing between herself and Takigawa. She would not have done this if she herself had feelings for him. Who else could it be…? The coachman and stable workers were all either too old or too young.
In fact, the only person Mai could think off that was of a suitable age and unmarried was—
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Mai threw on a dressing gown and answered it.
"Mr Lin, how could I help you?"
"I came to inform you that Lord Pembridge is feeling much better now. He asked me to check on you, that you had not fallen asleep at the window again."
Mai scowled.
"I am glad he is feeling better. Please let him know I have taken no offence at his earlier words. Do we know the cause of his ill health?"
"You had it right, Lady Astley, he had not eaten in some time and thus his thoughts had become quite addled. I will pay closer attention to his meals from now on, and ensure he eats during the day too."
"You are a good man, Mr Lin."
"Thank you, Lady Astley."
"Mr Lin, tell me, what do you think of Miss Mori?"
"Miss Mori?" Mai studied his face and wondered if the slight pink tinge of his cheeks was due to the poor light or a real blush. "She is a fine woman."
"I was speaking with her earlier about her marriage prospects," Mai said. "What sort of man do you think she would suit?"
"My Lady, I am flattered you would ask my opinion. I am but a mere butler and can say nothing of such things."
"And Lord Pembridge, what sort of woman do you think he should marry?"
"I will not speak out of turn, Lady Astley," Lin said, his tone becoming colder. "Your refusal has done enough. Goodnight."
He left before Mai could comprehend what he had said.
She shut the door after him and began closing her curtains. She left one set open, the one where she had sat two nights before. And once again she sat staring out at the snow.
Her eyes could not focus on the individual flakes, just as her mind could not focus on one topic. The gradual realisation that perhaps Lord Pemrbridge really did feel something for her was not one that Mai took lightly. She wondered if he felt any sort of shame for lusting after his late friend's wife.
She wondered if she should feel shame for thinking of her late husband's friend…
And Madoka. Poor Madoka whose circumstances would leave her constantly living through other people. Mai wanted so desperately for her friend to find her own happiness and yet she could not see a way without Madoka losing her family. As someone who had lost her relatives, though by a different means, she could not condone a choice that would leave another bereft of that love.
And now, with all those thoughts swirling around her head like the flurries outside her window, she—
Wait.
Was that a light? Not again…
Mai looked across the courtyard. Once again, a light had appeared in the West Wing. Why would this building choose to torment her on a night like tonight? Why could it not let her have one night in peace?
She knew she could not investigate it now, Mr Lin had left not long ago and would still be prowling the corridors no doubt. But she would investigate. Too many times had this light appeared.
Something was calling her there.
Something… Or someone?
She had seen the hand wave, had she not?
The memory returned to her in a flash, the lone hand waving from that same window. Was the truth of the matter not that the West Wing was structurally damaged, but that Lord Pembridge kept a prisoner there…?
Mai changed into her softest slippers. She tied her dressing down about her waist in a secure knot and pinned her hair back. She thought about taking a candle, but the light would give her away. Her eyes had become accustomed to the low light levels in her room. They would adapt to the less illuminated corridors.
She waited what felt like an age before tip-toeing out of her room. She held the door as she shut it behind her, so that it would make less noise. Mai crept down the edge of the corridor, on the less trodden parts of the floor so that she could not disturb any loose floorboards.
She reached the doors to the West Wing without meeting a soul.
Someone was inviting her in.
The doors were unlocked. Mai slipped inside and again closed the door with utmost care so she did not make a noise.
Now inside the West Wing, Mai felt her heart beating much faster. She tiptoed along the dark corridor and seeing no light from under the first door, opened it. Inside the room, she found what appeared to be a study. The moon cast light through the window upon a picture on the wall. It was a painting of two young dark haired boys, and their parents. Mai recognised the woman as Lady Pembridge. She assumed the man must have been the late Lord Pembridge. The two boys must be their sons; Oliver and Eugene.
She left the room and ignored the next few doors. She had to know what was in the lit room. The room that mirrored her own.
As she neared the door, she began to hear voices.
"...lose him that long ago. It's been a lot to deal with, I imagine…"
The voice she recognised as Lord Pembridge's.
"... I should send her away, she would be better off elsewhere…"
When a second voice spoke, Mai had expected it to sound different, the voice of another person. But it did not.
Lord Pembridge was talking to himself? Had Mr Lin lied? Had Lord Pembridge been drinking past what was good for him? Surely only a drunken fool could be having a conversation about—
She struggled to listen again.
"I will need more soon. This will barely quench my thirst."
More what?
"The supply is becoming harder to acquire. Questions have already been raised."
The supply of what…?
The topic that Mai had spoken to Berkeley about rose to the forefront of her mind.
Lord Pembridge was…
Mai clasped a hand to her mouth as bile rose in her throat.
"What was that?"
Footsteps approached the door. Her eyes widened in fear. There was nowhere she could hide. The corridor was empty.
The door swung open. Mai screamed. Lord Pembridge stood before her, with blood dripping from his chin onto his shirt. A tongue ran across his teeth — his remarkably pointed teeth.
She stumbled back, almost tripping on her nightdress.
Lord Pembridge opened his mouth to speak, revealing again the long canines.
Mai did not wait for his words. She turned and she ran, no longer regarding her original desire to be quiet. She flew down the corridor, out of the double doors and across the landing by the grand staircase. She sprinted until she had reached the safety of her own bedchamber, where she slammed the door shut and locked it.
Not content with this, she pulled the closest chair over and propped it under the handle, so that it would further impede anyone who tried to gain access.
Her bed no longer appeared the place of safety she once knew it to be. So she dragged the blankets off and into the corner furthest from the door. Mai lit a candle and placed it on a small table beside her so that she could read.
"Pointed teeth... Pointed teeth…" she mumbled as she opened Berkeley's book. "I know what I saw…"
She scanned the pages rapidly until she came to the one that she had in mind.
Vampyre
The drawing was of a man with pointed teeth, just as Lord Pembridge's had been. Mai sobbed and pushed the book away.
To think that she… That he…
She wiped her eyes on the blanket and brought the book closer again. She had to read on.
Vampyre
This creature was born of man, with life stolen by a bite and transformed into this dreadful beast that seeks only blood.
The blood! He had collected the blood from that asylum not for science as he had told her, but to consume!
There is no cure for this affliction. The only way to kill such a foul thing is by a stake to the heart. Once staked, the vampyre must be buried on holy ground to stop it ever rising again. And it must be killed, for else it will seek out more innocent souls to convert to its most evil cause.
How long had she been in this house? How long had she been at risk?
The vampyre is also known to seduce young women and ruin them, another reason why they must be staked. Some have reported better luck with a silver tipped stake, but there is no known reason why wood will not do.
Mai's heart dropped. Despite everything she had just seen, the hurt she felt at knowing that his interest in her was only to seduce was worse than anything. If she had come to accept his attentions might have started out of duty, how could she accept that it was just the call of some evil possessing him.
Accept it?
Mai shook her head rid of such thoughts. She could not accept it.
Lord Pembridge, the man her husband had entrusted her to, was a vampire.
Had her husband known? She had to believe he could not have known. He was too good a man to dance with the devil. He must have been fooled by Lord Pembridge somehow.
And what of Lord Pembridge brother?
She had been told he died in an accident, but what if… What if that had been a cover up? What if Lord Pembridge had drained his own brother of his life blood?
Mai reached for the coal bucket and vomited violently into it.
She placed the book on the table and wiped her mouth on a towel. She sat for hours, staring at the door, waiting for someone — Lord Pembridge — to barge it down. To storm in and bite her and steal her own blood.
Author's note: The end of the next chapter is my favourite ever cliffhanger and I cannot wait to drop the chapter and leave you all hanging!