Death in the Family
Part I: The Inspector
Viktor Grey paced the hall of Lady Maryweather's wing in Beddington Manor. His mind was racing. So much had happened in such a short span of time and he had been too preoccupied with the object of all his earthly desire, Lady Maryweather, to notice. Now the famous inspector, Jacque Rousseau sat in the manor hall waiting to inquire with him about the death of Duke Beddington. Of course, Viktor had made all the proper arrangements for such an obstacle, but he had hoped that the Lord's death would have gone uninvestigated.
Vikor opened the door to his love's bower and peeked in at her. Maryweather was humming a soft tune while brushing her hair in her boudoir. Her soft melody calmed his nerves. She reminded him so much of her mother, Lady Scarlet, when she was like this. Calm, poised and precious. Only if she hadn't inherited her father's traits as well. Viktor's dark thoughts were once again calmed as he focused on Lady Merryweather's delicate humming. He would do anything for her, burn the world down for her, and he would prove it. Jacque Rousseau was it. Viktor's eyes narrowed and a grin cracked his stony face.
The main hall was lavish as befit the head household of the Beddington estate. Portraits of generations of Beddington patriarchs hung proudly on the smooth stone walls, purple and gold banners embroidered with the Beddington crest festooned where the walls met the lofty ceiling, which overlooked the finely crafted furnishings impeccably placed throughout the hall. Inspector Rousseau sat on the sofa smoking his pipe, watching the scullery maid bustle through the hall. She placed a silver tea tray laden with a cup and saucer, sugar pot, creamer jug and of course, the silver teapot, on the sofa table. The inspector nodded slightly to the maid as she poured him a cup before he slowly and deliberately added his milk and sugar, stirring the mixture with tiny little stirs, his pinky finger sticking out as he stirred. Vikor scorned the inspector for all his pomp, but a man so full of himself could surely be manipulated.
"Ahh, Inspector! I see you have made yourself quite comfortable," Viktor exclaimed. "Of course, whatever it is you require, we will make sure it is afforded to you." Viktor looked the man over, he was short and portly. He had a handlebar mustache and his hair was parted to the side, while his nose supported a pair of heavy spectacles. The Inspector acknowledged Vikor and filled his pipe, lighting it and taking a few short puffs.
"Seneschal Grey, quite the pleasure to meet you. If only it was under more auspicious circumstances," the inspector responded coldly. His eyes narrowed in on Victor as he brought his tea cup to his lips, taking a measured sip.
"Yes indeed inspector," Viktor answered. "We are all grieving our master's passing. It's such a tragedy. Especially for poor Maryweather."
"Don't you mean Lady Beddington," the inspector retorted. "Maybe she lets you speak so informally to her, but Mr. Grey, you forget yourself and your station regarding the Baroness in such familiar terms," Rousseau protested.
Viktor scowled. He cursed himself for being so careless, but his head was still in the clouds from his earlier lovemaking with Merryweather. She was so submissive and for the first time, she confessed her love to Viktor. She made him soft, she was his only weakness. In this world he knew weakness, and what it resulted in: the loss of his love, Scarlet. Now that he had Maryweather, he would never lose her like he did her mother. He would never let himself be soft again.
"Inspector, I raised the girl myself practically. You'll forgive me my indiscretion while the girl, while I mourn the loss of our Lord. Clearly she lost her father but I might add, have lost my greatest benefactor."
The maid reentered the hall with a tea tray, bringing it to Viktor. She was a young, wispy miqo'te, barely a woman. She blushed as she poured Viktor his tea.
"Ah, thank you my dear Abigail," said Viktor, smiling brightly at the girl. He turned his attention back to the inspector. "Young Abigail is another who owes everything to Lord Beddington. Her mother died of the pox, leaving her orphaned. Lord Beddington took her in, in honor of her late mother's service." Viktor smiled at the girl after she had finished her service and she took her leave. "Like poor Abigail, the Beddington's, especially Lord Cedric himself, have raised my family up from pig farmers to seneschals of this great house," Viktor continued. "It is true, my great grandfather had a way with facts and figures, but it was the great Honore Beddington who realized this and put his faith in my great grandsire. Yes, my family truly owes everything to the Beddingtons."
The inspector cleared his throat. "Well, yes of course Grey. I understand your sentiments in such times. My apologies." The inspector took a long pull on his pipe and his face turned serious. "Grey," he said, pausing slightly. "You were one of the last people to see Lord Bennington alive. You see why such an interview must take place?"
Viktor smiled to himself. Now let the game of cat and mouse begin dear inspector, little to do know you are the mouse. "Yes, of course Inspector Rousseau. It is my duty to aid in your investigation in any means you deem applicable. Please, inquire as you will. I am your humble servant in all matters of the investigation."
The inspector's eyes narrowed on Viktor through the thick lenses of his spectacles. "Why thank you Seneschal Grey, I much appreciate your candor in this matter, as ghastly as it is. According to my reports you entered the city apartments of Lord Beddignton at approximately three in the afternoon. There you spoke with the Lord's head maid and paramour, Charlotte Dumant. Would you say that is accurate, Seneschal Grey?"
"Why yes, that is quite right. Miss Dumant was there to greet me when I arrived at the apartments, for Lord Beddington was indisposed at the time according to her.
"And what was the nature of your visit, according to you, Mr Grey? Rousseau interjected.
"I had a series of documents for the Lord to look over and sign." Viktor recounted. "I usually visited Lord Beddingtron twice a month to go over matters of the estate, this was one such meeting."
"Ah, yes Viktor. Matters of estate. Yes, those are precisely the matters I wish to discuss with you. I believe there were two documents in particular., which stuck out to me. Have you an idea about those matters of which I speak?"
Viktor smiled. Of course he knew of them, he had drafted them both. "Yes inspector. One I drafted for Lord Beddignton for the purpose of expediting Lady Beddington's decision to marry Count Boyd's son, Pippen. Lord Beddington felt the Lady was dragging her heels on the matter, so to speak. The document I procured would see to it that I would remain in control of the estate as steward until she is married, where she, with her husband, would then regain full control of the house. Quite nerve wracking for me if I'm perfectly frank. Also, if you read the document. Lady Bennington regains full control of the estate until it is passed down to her first born son upon her death."
"Yes Grey, that is one of the documents I am referring to," answered Rousseau, taking another inhale from his pipe before shaking it out into an ornate ashtray bearing the crest of House Beddington. "It would appear that you would get full control of the estate for the interim until the Duchess was married, would you not?" Asserted the inspector.
Viktor smiled. "With all due respect Inspector, I fail to see how the document in question raises any suspicion towards me. I had full control of the estate under Lord Bennington. If anything, his death puts me in a more precarious position. Assuming the new Lord, the Duchess' future husband, decides to become majordomo of the estate, then I am back to head butler," Viktor confessed.
"The inspector narrowed his eyes on Grey. "Of course, if there was not one last piece of evidence to add, it would be as you say. However, it was reported one of Lady Beddington's suitors, Count Myles Ellington. The young Count reported to friends and family that when he came to call on Lady Beddington, he walked in on you and her having carnal relations. Would you say his testimony is accurate, Mr Grey?" Inspector Rousseau leaned back and filled his pipe from his tobacco pouch, his eyes never leaving Vikor.
Viktor had to admire the inspector, he was good at his job that was for sure. But unfortunately for the inspector there were just too many pieces of the puzzle to be able to put it together completely. How could the inspector even begin to understand how Scarlet's ghost had spoken to Viktor through Mary, granting him permission to take back what was rightfully his. "Inspector, surely the Lord has greatly embellished what he witnessed. If embracing a sad girl you consider a daughter is considered carnal knowledge, then I am guilty as charged. Viscount Ellington and Mary were quite close. In fact, he was the suitor who she favored as I have heard it from her and from her entourage. However, she will follow her father's wish and marry Lord Boyd, and the Viscount knows that. If you'll excuse my candor inspector, I feel the boy's pride is hurt because while he holds the higher title, Duke Beddington favored Lord Boyd for his wealth. For a Duke cannot rise in title, but surely can rise in wealth."
"You said you were consoling the young Lady, Mr. Grey. Did you not?" questioned the inspector searching Viktor's face for any evidence to deceit, yet unable to pierce the seneschal's dissemble.
"Yes, that is quite accurate, inspector. The Lady called to me, saying she needed her "Mr. Puffalumps." Viktor chuckled happily. "A sobriquet she used when she was a girl and upset," he lifted his saucer and brought it to his lips, sipping the tea. He raised his finger. Instantly young Abigail was over with a new teapot, refreshing his cup. "Well she had heard rumors that her father was unwell, more than usual. She had told me about something she had heard from the maids. SHe mentioned that her father, Duke Bennington had drafted a new amendment to his will and testament; an amendment that supposedly placed Miss Charlotte Dumant to inherit a rather substantial portion of the estate. The young Lady wished for me to assess her father's condition and to see if he was of sound mind before she decided to get her attorneys involved, and I accepted her request."
"And majordomo, what was your assessment of the Duke?" pressed Rousseau, now thoroughly invested.
"Why inspector, I'm afraid my assessment was not auspicious." Viktor took a long sip from his cup before gently placing it back down on the table. "Usually, the Duke greets me personally. I found it unusual that Miss Dumont greeted me instead."
Viktor glanced over the inspector. The way he was postured worried Vikor. The inspector had something on him and Viktor had to think. Something came to him. One of the maids had seen Charlotte kissing him while he waited for the Duke. Yes, that must be it. Even if it wasn't, giving the inspector something incriminating may be advantageous.
"Well you see inspector, something else was odd," continued Viktor. "Miss Dumant and I used to have relations, but when she moved into these apartments we ended things. It has been nearly a decade since we have been together, in that way. However, that day, the day in question, she made an advance toward me. It was quite strange, but I must admit I was flattered. It has been some time since a woman approached me romantically, but something was off about it. I brushed her advance aside and I went to look over the accounts as I waited for the Duke. When finally the Duke was well enough to grant me an audience, I could tell he wasn't well. His eyes were sunken, his skin was pallid and jaundiced, and his breath reeked of wine."
Inspector Rousseau leaned in toward Viktor and took a few pulls from his pipe. "Yes, Grey. Rumors of the Duke's predilection for drink run far and wide."
"Well, that day he seemed worse than usual, or at least worse than I had ever encountered him before," chimed Viktor. "When finally we sat down to go over the accounts, the Duke seemed not in control of his faculties. Miss Dumant repeatedly came up and whispered into the Duke's ear until he provided me with a document. The document in question was a memorandum to the Duke's will. It stated that upon his death, Miss Charlotte Dumant would be awarded the Duke's city apartments, a significant sum of money, and an ongoing stipend until the time of her death."
Rousseau stared at Viktor for a moment. The silence hung like a foul stench and Viktor could not wait to take his leave.
"Please, Viktor, let's go back to Charlotte and you. You said that Miss Dumont and you were engaged in physical relations on the day in question," led the inspector.
"Inspector," rebutted Viktor, making his annoyance obvious. "I stated that she and I had relations over a decade ago, but that on the day in question, she did make a pass at me."
"Indeed Grey. You are correct, my mistake," replied the inspector, clearing his throat. "Can you elaborate on the advance, if you may?"
"Of course, Inspector. Miss Dumont started by brushing against me in passing, as she came and went to speak with the Duke. Her brushes soon began to linger and eventually she spoke to me of our days as lovers. She told me that she never stopped loving me and she regrets ending things the way that she did. That the Duke was going to take good care of her and that after his passing, we could start a life together if I desired."
"Tell me Grey. Do you still harbor feelings for Charlotte Dumant."
Viktor's face immediately became a storm cloud. The thought of touching any woman other than his Maryweather was repugnant to him.
"Grey, I think that I can read faces quite well. Your immediate physiognomy tells me all I need to know. I thank you very much for your time."
"Of course Inspector Rousseau, if there is anything else I am at your disposal."
"I may call upon the Lady of the house if necessary. However, I will of course deliver ample notice. Now, I must bid you farewell," Rousseau said, bowing.
"Of course Inspector, let me show you out. This way please," said Grey as he led the inspector through the manor hall to the vestibule.
Viktor had heard awful accounts of interrogations held by Jaques Rousseau, but he felt quite confident about his testimony. No matter the angle, Viktor could not see a trace of motive for his involvement in the Duke's death, despite Charlotte's accusations. The only one who could incriminate him and destroy him utterly was Maryweather. If she did then so be it. Without her, his dreams of the future meant nothing.
Viktor found Maryweather in her boudoir . He spied on her from behind the doorway. She sat at her vanity dresser brushing her long blonde locks in front of the mirror. He watched as she delicately ran her mother's ornate hair brush down her long hair with slow strokes. She was the perfect image of her mother Scarlet, she looked so poised to Viktor as she attentively ran the brush through golden mane. She was an unearthly beauty and Viktor needed to possess her body and soul. He would not rest until every part of her belonged to him.
Viktor felt himself grow erect and he rubbed himself through his pants, imagining his hand was Maryweather's. The smell of her hair and the taste of her skin teased his mind as he thought of her. He groaned silently as he touched himself. He removed his monocle and ruffled his hair before he loosened his tie and removed his tailed suitcoat. His arousal peaked and he felt himself grow feral in his desire for her. Maryweather continued to brush her hair, completely unaware of Viktor as he crept closer to her.
Maryweather gasped as Viktor placed his hands on her shoulders. She was lost in reverie about her mother. She had been thinking about what her mother thought about when she brushed her hair. Were her thoughts consumed by Viktor like hers were? Now here he stood behind her, his strong hands holding onto her shoulders tenderly. She looked at his face through her mirror. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were trained on her, piercing into her, seeing into her the core of her being. He terrified her yet she was drawn to him, yearned for his approval, yearned to please him.
"Mayweather, I…" Viktor's hands dropped from her shoulders to her full breasts. She shuddered as he caressed her nipples with the back of his fingers over the diaphanous fabric of her nightgown. Her nipples hardened and she felt her heartbeat in between her legs. He pressed his lips against her neck, gently raking her with his teeth as he sucked soft flesh into his mouth. Maryweather winced in as he sucked on her, but the pain soon turned into pleasure causing her heart to race. And when he was done a large livid circle marked her porcelain skin.
Viktor stepped back undid his tie and removed his shirt revealing his strong, well muscled chest. Maryweather couldn't help but stare at his body. His manners and sophisticated air always dissembled his swine farmer stock, and as she gazed upon his broad shoulders and rippled stomach she felt herself flush. Built as he body was, it was the way he looked at her that caused her heart to race. She had never been looked at with such desire before, such primal urge. She could feel his obsession for her in his stare. Part of her was terrified of it, but the other part of her? The other part of her yearned to be possessed by him, yearned to be taken by him at his discretion.
Vikltor took his tie and wrapped it around Maryweather's eyes as he pressed his lips against her neck kissing and licking as he watched himself with her through her vanity mirror. He tied the makeshift blindfold tight around her with a strong tug then he opened his mouth and bit her chin before his teeth found her lower lip. He bit down on her and pulled her head toward him and parted her lips with his tongue, meshing it with hers passionately.
Maryweather moaned as Viktor's hands continued to massage her breasts as he kissed her. They soon slid down her body and parted her thighs. Mayweather didn't fight back. She let her legs part as she met his tongue with hers, her heartbeat thumping between her legs as Viktor's hand cupped her flower and lifted her from the chair before his skillful fingers began pleasuring the folds of her sex. She could hear him unbuckling his belt and soon she felt the warm leather wrap around her long neck. She surged with excitement as she felt the belt tightened around her throat amplifying the sensation of his touch as his finger hooked inside of her, finding her spot.
Maryweather shivered and moaned as his fingers hooked her walls and his palm rubbed her clit. She lifted her arms as he removed her gown and soon she felt the warm wetness of his mouth on her neck. The pressure of his fingers intensified and sped up causing her to start gyrating her hips teasing her into ecstasy. She felt the sensation of cumming beginning to blossom in her body and he tightened the belt as drove his fingers inside of her relentlessly. The sudden aggressiveness made Maryweather's knees go weak as her body quivered in anticipation of the building of orgasm. When finally her Her juices flowed over his fingers and ran down her legs as she trembled. No man had ever made her feel like this before, had ever made her body react to his touch the way Viktor did. He was the devil incarnate, but Maryweather cared not. She was his body and soul.
Viktor caressed her supple belly. "Our child grows strong like his mother. If we are to protect him you must not tell the inspector of our relationship or he will pin your father's passing on me," he whispered into her graceful feline ear.
Deep down Maryweather suspected Viktor had something to do with her father's death, but she couldn't bring herself to hate him for it. Her father had let Charlotte entitle herself to over a quarter of the Beddington estate, he was not of sound mind. Viktor acted–if he was indeed guilty–only to protect her, and their child from that harlot. Yes. Her father deserved his fate for his betrayal.
"Do you think I'm a child and a fool," she said, pushing away his hands. She removed the makeshift blindfold and threw it to the floor. I will see that whore rot away in prison for poisoning my father, but more for manipulating him into giving her such a large piece of our son's legacy."
Viktor grabbed the belt and pulled her into him. She struck him across the face and dug her claws into him tearing his flesh. Viktor smeared the blood across his chest and wiped it over his face. He grabbed her arms and forced her to her bed.
"Get your hands off me you pig fucker," she screamed.
Viktor pushed her onto the bed by her shoulder and she fell backward onto the softness of her bed, scowling at him. When he pulled off his trousers exposing his girthy erection, Maryweather went silent.
She wanted to claw his eyes out for his insolence toward her, but at the same time all she could think about was being taken by him. The way he filled her so completely was like nothing she had ever experienced, and she found herself addicted to it. He was maniacal as he loomed over her. His eyes were wild and hungry, their whites standing out against his blood smeared face. Yet, she harbored no fear from him. Instead she felt her heart race and she began to ready herself for him with her fingers.