CHAPTER EIGHT: Angelique
A gloved hand let go of the silk scarf and it blew away into the autumn wind, into the towering trees. The other hand had just removed the large leather hat, revealing the stranger's bright blonde hair, which was tightly pinned up. The golden cloud of hair fell about her shoulders as the stranger unpinned it. Her huge blue-green eyes stared at Julia with the cunning of a long time foe.
"Angelique!" Julia shouted at the beautiful woman.
"Yes, Julia," Angelique's voice no longer bore the French accent of her island home, which she had left over a century ago, "I have returned to Collinwood at long last. No matter where I go, I cannot seem to escape my destiny here. This is where I belong, close to Barnabas."
"What have you done to Maggie?!" Julia was still shocked.
"Believe me, Julia, I meant no harm to Miss Evans. She was frightened of me and I had to do something. Something's amiss here at Collinwood and it's not just my imagination. There's some danger to Barnabas, I can tell. I saw it in a vision. You see, I still have all the ancient powers. I have come here to help Barnabas."
"You help Barnabas?" Julia was angry, "I wouldn't trust you near him under any circumstances!"
"You forget, Julia," Angelique gently reminded her, "I helped Barnabas in his fight against the Leviathans. Remember? Afterwards, I went to New York City to further my modeling career and thought I could put Barnabas and my magic behind me for good. But, I realize now that I can never do that. I've tried too many times."
Maggie, still entranced, moaned softly.
"Here," Angelique said, "To prove my good will, I will release Maggie from my power."
Angelique's gloved hands reached out and removed Maggie's woolen cap. She gently pushed back Maggie's long hair and put one finger on each temple. Angelique muttered something under her breath as she massaged Maggie's temples. Suddenly, Maggie jerked back from Angelique, no longer in a trance.
"Julia?" Maggie said groggily, as if just waking up, "What happened? Hey, why are you here, Mrs. Rumson?"
"I've come to help you and Dr. Hoffman stop the danger if I can." Angelique told Maggie. "But, I don't know what's happening. Would you two please explain?"
"Alright." Julia finally gave in, they could use Angelique's help. Despite Julia's warning not to enter Mrs. Johnson's room for fear of contamination, Elisabeth Collins Stoddard felt she owed her loyal housekeeper some breakfast at least. So, Elisabeth had gone up to Mrs. Johnson's room with a tray of hot oatmeal and cold milk. Elisabeth sighed, after all these years with Mrs. Johnson around, she had little practice cooking even the simplest food. Oh well. She pushed the door open slowly with her shoulder.
To Elisabeth's surprise, Sarah Johnson was sitting up on her bed, fully dressed.
"Mrs. Johnson?" Elisabeth's voice was kind and compassionate, "I brought you something to eat."
Sarah did not respond for a few moments. Then, ever so slowly, and weakly, she began to speak, "I'm not hungry, Mrs. Stoddard. I just want to be alone."
Elisabeth was a little shaken, but left anyway, closing the door behind her. After Elisabeth had gone, Sarah rose slowly from her bed and proceeded to take down all the crosses that Julia Hoffman had put up in her room. Then, Sarah opened the window wide before slumping back onto her bed, awaiting sunset.
Barnabas was huddled up in the corner of Josette's room, clutching the sides of his head with his large hands. He dared not sleep, the dreams about Roxanne would come if he did. Barnabas couldn't stop thinking about Roxanne, waking or sleeping. He had come here, to the chamber that had belonged to his sweet Josette to try and forget. It was useless. He could stare at Josette's portrait forever, but that delicate, aristocratic face would always take the form of Roxanne in time. What horror, that even his memory of Josette was blasphemed by this obsession with a vampire! New tears fell down his cheeks to replace the dried ones.
The sun came out from behind a cloud and glared through the window into Josette's gilt vanity mirror, which in turn shined at Barnabas, filling his eyes with bright light, momentarily blinding him. Barnabas rubbed his eyes, and then, it seemed to him that he was hearing the softest, most soothing music in the world. He kept his eyes closed and for the first time since he saw her, Roxanne did not fill the darkness. The music became louder and clearer, yet it never lost its softness.
"Am I dead at last? Is this heaven? Is it the angel of death come to me, to bring me sweet relief?" Barnabas asked himself.
The music was beautiful. There was a woman singing. Her voice was so wonderful, like sinking into a pool of pure joy. Her words were at first indistinguishable, but he came to understand them in time. The song was in French, and very, very pretty. Barnabas realized eventually that he had heard this song, indeed this very voice singing it, long ago. It had been on Martinique.
"Ohhh, Martinique." The island where he had fallen in love with Josette DuPres, sitting in her flower garden, the loveliest of all the island flowers. She sat there, dressed in white, a parasol blooming above her like the petals of a white blossom. Josette had picked a single flower of the palest pink imaginable to put in her hair. As she did so, she sang a sweet lullaby in French, one her long dead mother used to sing. At once Barnabas had loved her, though he would not realize it for a long time, till after he had destroyed all their lives with his cruel seduction of Josette's maid, Angelique Bouchard.
This was Josette's song.
No other melody could compare. He had even captured it in a music box, but no device could make the purity and innocence of Josette's voice softly singing.
Barnabas opened his eyes. Yes! He could forget Roxanne. His Josette, his truest, dearest love would be his anchor to life. He would not let go of her, lest he should plunge into an abyss.
As Barnabas opened his eyes, he realized that the dying sun had filled the room with its soft glow and she was there. Josette!
"Josette!" he cried tears of joy. Josette was joy! She was joy and laughter and sweetness and kindness and light and love and all that was good in the whole world. Most of all Josette was love! She was dressed in her wedding gown, the white lace veil over her face. She was his bride, a pure and perfect virgin set on the earth for Barnabas alone to love.
Josette lifted her veil. Her cheeks were rosy, her auburn hair was streaked with a glow from the fading sun. He was on his feet now. His mouth was kissing her cheek, and her lips, and then her neck. His fingers pulled at the lace of her bodice, ripping and tearing. His kisses were fire on her bosom.
"No!" He shrunk back from her. This was not Josette! It was magic! Fairy glamour! Only the will of a priestess of the dark arts could seduce a man this way. It could not be Roxanne. It had to be the other.
"Yes, husband," the voice of the witch answered, "It is I, your bride, Angelique."
It was Angelique with her golden hair. She wore a long, open jacket of black leather and below it, a short and tight black dress that hugged her figure enticingly.
"Noooo!" Barnabas wept, "How could you do this? How could you use your arts this way? It is wrong to meddle in my heart like this!"
"I know that, my love. But, I had to do something. This vampire woman is tearing at your soul. I only wanted to help you forget her. I may not be joy or love or light, I am darkness itself! But, my darling, I am forgetfulness. I am escape." Angelique removed her coat and set it down on a chair. "Forgive me. I only want to help you." "There is only one way," said Julia as she entered the room, "We know that now. Roxanne must be destroyed!"
"Yes," Angelique agreed, "But it may already be too late for one who lives at Collinwood.
"What?!" Barnabas and Julia asked almost simultaneously, for this was prophecy they could not ignore.
A gloved hand let go of the silk scarf and it blew away into the autumn wind, into the towering trees. The other hand had just removed the large leather hat, revealing the stranger's bright blonde hair, which was tightly pinned up. The golden cloud of hair fell about her shoulders as the stranger unpinned it. Her huge blue-green eyes stared at Julia with the cunning of a long time foe.
"Angelique!" Julia shouted at the beautiful woman.
"Yes, Julia," Angelique's voice no longer bore the French accent of her island home, which she had left over a century ago, "I have returned to Collinwood at long last. No matter where I go, I cannot seem to escape my destiny here. This is where I belong, close to Barnabas."
"What have you done to Maggie?!" Julia was still shocked.
"Believe me, Julia, I meant no harm to Miss Evans. She was frightened of me and I had to do something. Something's amiss here at Collinwood and it's not just my imagination. There's some danger to Barnabas, I can tell. I saw it in a vision. You see, I still have all the ancient powers. I have come here to help Barnabas."
"You help Barnabas?" Julia was angry, "I wouldn't trust you near him under any circumstances!"
"You forget, Julia," Angelique gently reminded her, "I helped Barnabas in his fight against the Leviathans. Remember? Afterwards, I went to New York City to further my modeling career and thought I could put Barnabas and my magic behind me for good. But, I realize now that I can never do that. I've tried too many times."
Maggie, still entranced, moaned softly.
"Here," Angelique said, "To prove my good will, I will release Maggie from my power."
Angelique's gloved hands reached out and removed Maggie's woolen cap. She gently pushed back Maggie's long hair and put one finger on each temple. Angelique muttered something under her breath as she massaged Maggie's temples. Suddenly, Maggie jerked back from Angelique, no longer in a trance.
"Julia?" Maggie said groggily, as if just waking up, "What happened? Hey, why are you here, Mrs. Rumson?"
"I've come to help you and Dr. Hoffman stop the danger if I can." Angelique told Maggie. "But, I don't know what's happening. Would you two please explain?"
"Alright." Julia finally gave in, they could use Angelique's help. Despite Julia's warning not to enter Mrs. Johnson's room for fear of contamination, Elisabeth Collins Stoddard felt she owed her loyal housekeeper some breakfast at least. So, Elisabeth had gone up to Mrs. Johnson's room with a tray of hot oatmeal and cold milk. Elisabeth sighed, after all these years with Mrs. Johnson around, she had little practice cooking even the simplest food. Oh well. She pushed the door open slowly with her shoulder.
To Elisabeth's surprise, Sarah Johnson was sitting up on her bed, fully dressed.
"Mrs. Johnson?" Elisabeth's voice was kind and compassionate, "I brought you something to eat."
Sarah did not respond for a few moments. Then, ever so slowly, and weakly, she began to speak, "I'm not hungry, Mrs. Stoddard. I just want to be alone."
Elisabeth was a little shaken, but left anyway, closing the door behind her. After Elisabeth had gone, Sarah rose slowly from her bed and proceeded to take down all the crosses that Julia Hoffman had put up in her room. Then, Sarah opened the window wide before slumping back onto her bed, awaiting sunset.
Barnabas was huddled up in the corner of Josette's room, clutching the sides of his head with his large hands. He dared not sleep, the dreams about Roxanne would come if he did. Barnabas couldn't stop thinking about Roxanne, waking or sleeping. He had come here, to the chamber that had belonged to his sweet Josette to try and forget. It was useless. He could stare at Josette's portrait forever, but that delicate, aristocratic face would always take the form of Roxanne in time. What horror, that even his memory of Josette was blasphemed by this obsession with a vampire! New tears fell down his cheeks to replace the dried ones.
The sun came out from behind a cloud and glared through the window into Josette's gilt vanity mirror, which in turn shined at Barnabas, filling his eyes with bright light, momentarily blinding him. Barnabas rubbed his eyes, and then, it seemed to him that he was hearing the softest, most soothing music in the world. He kept his eyes closed and for the first time since he saw her, Roxanne did not fill the darkness. The music became louder and clearer, yet it never lost its softness.
"Am I dead at last? Is this heaven? Is it the angel of death come to me, to bring me sweet relief?" Barnabas asked himself.
The music was beautiful. There was a woman singing. Her voice was so wonderful, like sinking into a pool of pure joy. Her words were at first indistinguishable, but he came to understand them in time. The song was in French, and very, very pretty. Barnabas realized eventually that he had heard this song, indeed this very voice singing it, long ago. It had been on Martinique.
"Ohhh, Martinique." The island where he had fallen in love with Josette DuPres, sitting in her flower garden, the loveliest of all the island flowers. She sat there, dressed in white, a parasol blooming above her like the petals of a white blossom. Josette had picked a single flower of the palest pink imaginable to put in her hair. As she did so, she sang a sweet lullaby in French, one her long dead mother used to sing. At once Barnabas had loved her, though he would not realize it for a long time, till after he had destroyed all their lives with his cruel seduction of Josette's maid, Angelique Bouchard.
This was Josette's song.
No other melody could compare. He had even captured it in a music box, but no device could make the purity and innocence of Josette's voice softly singing.
Barnabas opened his eyes. Yes! He could forget Roxanne. His Josette, his truest, dearest love would be his anchor to life. He would not let go of her, lest he should plunge into an abyss.
As Barnabas opened his eyes, he realized that the dying sun had filled the room with its soft glow and she was there. Josette!
"Josette!" he cried tears of joy. Josette was joy! She was joy and laughter and sweetness and kindness and light and love and all that was good in the whole world. Most of all Josette was love! She was dressed in her wedding gown, the white lace veil over her face. She was his bride, a pure and perfect virgin set on the earth for Barnabas alone to love.
Josette lifted her veil. Her cheeks were rosy, her auburn hair was streaked with a glow from the fading sun. He was on his feet now. His mouth was kissing her cheek, and her lips, and then her neck. His fingers pulled at the lace of her bodice, ripping and tearing. His kisses were fire on her bosom.
"No!" He shrunk back from her. This was not Josette! It was magic! Fairy glamour! Only the will of a priestess of the dark arts could seduce a man this way. It could not be Roxanne. It had to be the other.
"Yes, husband," the voice of the witch answered, "It is I, your bride, Angelique."
It was Angelique with her golden hair. She wore a long, open jacket of black leather and below it, a short and tight black dress that hugged her figure enticingly.
"Noooo!" Barnabas wept, "How could you do this? How could you use your arts this way? It is wrong to meddle in my heart like this!"
"I know that, my love. But, I had to do something. This vampire woman is tearing at your soul. I only wanted to help you forget her. I may not be joy or love or light, I am darkness itself! But, my darling, I am forgetfulness. I am escape." Angelique removed her coat and set it down on a chair. "Forgive me. I only want to help you." "There is only one way," said Julia as she entered the room, "We know that now. Roxanne must be destroyed!"
"Yes," Angelique agreed, "But it may already be too late for one who lives at Collinwood.
"What?!" Barnabas and Julia asked almost simultaneously, for this was prophecy they could not ignore.