Ramblings of a Mad Earl: forward (poems)

Forward

In 1830, the remnants of a songbook and several poems were discovered in Tealburrow Inn, Dart Moor England. The writings were of the hand of Lord Constance, Jared Garth Hookwell II, 2^nd Earl of Constance. Enigmatic, considering the man scarcely mentioned his artistic pursuits in life. A shadowy figure in history, the earl’s late sister Andrea Hookwell also left a telling journal that sheds light on much of his hidden work. Relatives and associates believed Lord Constance to be mad. The writings found in 1830 were part of the earl’s luggage. He had returned to England after nearly two decades in Belize. Reasons for his stay in Belize, according to some, had to do with his mental instability. Reportedly the earl was a calm and sophisticated man but had bouts of intense mania, during which he would ramble for hours on end, froth at the mouth and hallucinate. For these reasons, he lived over the ocean, separated from his family in England for their own good.

Shortly after the discovery of his luggage, Lord Constance was declared missing. It would seem after his return to England, he vanished. Now until his wife Deanna Hookwell arrived to search for the husband she had been expecting to return, did anyone note his absence.

Among Lord Constance’s poetry and lyrics can be found an interesting use of coded metaphor, a fascination with the ancient Roman Emperor Caligula and an eerie self-awareness. The hints of a horrific childhood, the trauma of having his sister commit suicide, his slip into madness and elegant self-loathing litter the pages. Important figures in his life make appearances; a relative who isolated and abused he and his sister, his beloved sister Andrea, his first-mate during a stint as a ship captain during the war, his wife, the son he never met, a ward he raised in Belize, and numerous lovers.

By 1831, Lord Constance was officially presumed dead and his young son bestowed with the title. If this is so, Lord Constance would have been 47 when he disappeared and left behind the puzzle that is his life. He never met his son. His body was never found. His mental illness remains undiagnosed by historians who cannot decide if the man suffered from severe post-traumatic stress disorder, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, dissociative identity disorder or plain psychopathy. Only one thing is clear; Lord Constance had some idea that he was mad, and he did his utmost to hide it. Like his historical counterpart Caligula, he remains an enigma; feared, pitied, lost.

(To Read the Poems:  http://luzbriar.deviantart.com/gallery/29102584 )

©2010-2011 Luz Briar. Characters, Poems, and ALL content property of author. ALL Rights Reserved.

The Earl Swan- a short story

(click to enlarge. Some silly illustration of the story. Desdemona is threatening Orion with a violin bow, in case you were wondering…)
The whole story is posted. Click the link below to read from the start if you haven’t yet. It’s a light read.
http://briarprose.blogspot.com/2011/02/story-earl-swan-part-1.html#links
If you read, as always, please let me know somehow (comment, click response, etc). Nice weekend, all!
Earl Swan is © 2010-2011 Luz Briar. All Rights Reserved.

story- Earl Swan (6)-Epilogue

(PLEASE click response or comment if you have read, especially if you have read the whole story. I want to know your opinions or at least that you were reading.)
Final Part
-6-
Bri’s eyes landed on the bride where she stood chatting with the other women.
Her hand lifted from her side and she pointed at Des with great derision. Her laugh erupted and she screamed, “Witch! Liar! Unforgiving SLUT!”
All eyes were on Bri now and she seethed, “How could you! I will KILL you, Desdemona! If that is him, I will KILL you!” she gestured to the roasted bird.
Bri ran from the scene, tripping once on her skirts but jumping up swiftly. She scurried to the pond, quickly for it was downhill. The ornamented swans all swam away from her, save one. It wagged its tail and stepped out of the water, shaking itself off.
Bri recognized her earl swan and she gathered the animal into her arms. “Darling! Oh, I thought they had killed you! I’m so sorry.”
She made her way back toward the reception, with the swan in her arms.
Of course, there were no eyes that were not on her. She was still seething. “I thought you had cooked him, Desdemona. I am sorry I had an outburst.”
With that, there was uproarious and merry laughter.
“Poor dear,” a woman exclaimed. “She thought we were eating her pet!”
Though the crowd was ready to laugh it off as some terrible misunderstanding—for who had not wanted to call Desdemona those words before? -- Bri remained stoic, teeth bared.
Des approached her, pulled her close then and whispered in her ear, “A kiss will change him back, love.”
“What?”
“A true love’s kiss,” Des whispered. “I am giving you this one chance.”
The crowd was straining to hear the women’s words but Bri backed up, holding the swan.
“Right here? Right now?”
“Last chance,” Des offered, flipping her curled hair back.
Bri eyed the swan, which looked at her blankly. Poor Orion. If he died a bird Bri would never forgive herself.
Thinking of the short lifespan he would lead while caged in a bird’s form, Bri took the bird’s bill in her hand and kissed it lovingly.
There was a crushing silence on the crowd. Then, the voice of Bri’s former husband began to laugh and all joined in the uproar. Derision and jeering came from all direction and Bri turned her eyes to Des with fury.
“The bird is still a bird, and the slut still a slut,” Bri spat.
Des wore a cruel smile, but before she could have fun with her joke, a powerful but soft baritone silenced the crowd, “That is Quite enough!”
People made a clearing, and the tall mystery woman pushed forward in the crowd and seized Bri by the shoulders. She threw back her veil to reveal green eyes and Bri nearly fainted.
“M-m-m-my Lord!” she exclaimed. “You’re a lady!”
“Oh, yes…” Orion looked himself over, a convincing, albeit tall, woman. “I can explain the dress.”
“You look nice,” Bri offered, still hugging the bird.
“Thank you,” Orion curtseyed. He then turned his sharp eyes to Des, calling everyone’s attention to the flustered bride.
“This woman tried to have me killed! And apparently now she’s tormenting her own bridesmaid!”
Orion yanked off the wig of long blonde hair and revealed himself to everyone.
“Is that man wearing a DRESS!” one man shouted.
“I had to. I have been hunted for over two weeks now because Desdemona Parade has paid for my assassination.”
Des made a quick attempt for people’s pity, citing that the earl was mad. “Just look at him, he’s in a dress!”
The crowd had a second shock. Puli, the butler stepped forward and vouched for Lord Hookwell. “He’s telling the truth…” Puli stepped forward and offered himself as evidence, “I am ashamed of my original role.”
At Puli’s side, a lawman, dressed well for the occasion but still sporting his badge commanded everyone to remain calm while he took Desdemona into custody.
The other shady servants began to disappear one by one, sneaking off, adding to the suspicion. The crowd was soon spreading out, leaving Des unprotected/
The lawman took the bride by the arm and led her away, but not before she shot Bri one last look of real panic. Bri turned back to her swan and set him on the ground.
“My lord…I thought you were a swan. She…she told me my kiss would turn you back.”
“I was hiding until I could get to you. But, Brigid, you kissed a dirty pond bird for me?” he asked, massaging her ear.
She had already forgotten he was dressed as a woman.
“I would kiss 99 more dirty pond birds for you, muffin.”
“Ah, well…that won’t be necessary,” he promised, watching the loyal bird on the ground.
“I tried to contact you. But it was difficult. I came here today to talk to you in disguise…I was not going to reveal her until after you knew…”
Bri threw her arms around his neck without warning and forced their mouths together. Then many were watching the small woman kiss the tall man in a dress, but there was less to be said, for the same woman had already kissed a swan.
EPILOGUE
Bri sat across from the earl in the carriage.
They were going to town, nearly two hours after Desdemona’s wedding. Orion had reappeared after going into the Parade mansion and immerged a man again, all signs of lace and ribbons gone.
“I am still impressed, my lord,” Bri told him, “with how pretty you are as a woman.”
“Thank you, my dear. I had to be convincing.”
He had explained the course of events to Bri after things had simmered down at the estate. Desdemona was in the custody of the police for the night, being questioned about her underground connections. Her servants, all but Puli, had slinked off to avoid capture.
“They were probably once soldiers, we mustn’t judge them too harshly,” Orion explained, “Britain has not been so kind to them.”
The officer in the crowd had been aware of Orion and Puli’s presence, for they had gone to authorities first.
Bri was still processing it all when the earl asked her, “What about your friend?”
Bri blinked at him.
“The swan?” he laughed.
“We are only good friends, I promise.”
They shared a laugh before Orion took her to a coffee shop where they sat down to unwind.
“I noticed my notes rummaged through…” he spoke up in the silence.
Bri blew on her coffee to cool it and smiled. Her laugh came up and she shook her head, “I was delusional. I really believed you were a bird, my lord.”
“And you stayed in that awful woman’s presence to be near the bird.”
“She would not fire me.”
“If she had, though, what would you have done?”
“Taken Muffin with me.”
“So, you believed she was a witch and knew she felt malice for you? But you stayed.”
“Yes…yes, I suppose I was mad in more than one way.”
Orion was careful, reaching over to take Bri’s hand into his. “Ms. Salud, would you be my bookkeeper?”
Some of her anxiety drained when he asked this. He was offering her a job.
“You wish for me to work with you?”
“I have been working on a book for quite some time. I need help, though. I know I’ve told you about it, but not thoroughly. Are you interested, Ms. Salud?”
She wanted to laugh at the way he tried to ice over his true intentions. She had always expressed interest in his strange projects. This particular book would be a study on “paranormal sexuality,” much to everyone’s horror. But the earl was content on probing the dark spaces of mythology for answers that others seemed to avoid.
But Bri knew the real question he was asking. It was more than a bookkeeper he saw her as.
“I would be happy to be near you.” she grinned. “I feel at peace with you.”
He smiled then, and laughed, somewhat nervous. It was refreshing to see his composure break down. “I feel the same. I…” he looked about.
There were no eavesdroppers and the barista was busy in the back of the shop.
“I…have never met a woman like you before. You understand my meaning?”
She nodded. She understood, because she had no expectations of him and did not insult him when he did things differently.
“You do? You understand?”
She could feel his hand tremble a bit. He was sensitive and sometimes she forgot how much.
“I understand,” she whispered. “Many men want to be a lover, they want to love someone and woo them, to make them swoon and whatnot. You want to be loved. You want someone to woo you and make you swoon.”
He was quiet, only staring now.
Bri offered. “I understand, muffin. You don’t have to be nervous.”
As the barista reappeared, whistling to himself, Bri went to release Orion’s hand but his fingers remained firm, linked with hers. She smiled and offered her other hand so that they were equal.
Before nightfall, Orion took Bri back to Parade estate, where she packed many of her things. She did not own much but her clothing and book collection. But before she left the estate, she visited the pond and collected her favorite swan.
She and the earl waited by the pond and sure enough, a large male swan floated over to them and Bri outstretched her hands. He walked into her embrace and she lifted him.
“You think they will mind him on the train?” Bri asked.
“I’m sure they can be persuaded,” Orion reminded her.
She was not used to having an employer spend their wealth in her favor.
As they began to return to the carriage with the bird, they stopped when they heard the swish of many wings. They turned to see that the flock had risen and flew above their heads, creating a small wind in the process, pushing them forward. They paused for one moment more, watching the swans form a perfect V in the sky.
“Dazzling,” Orion mused.
Bri put one arm about his waist and held the animal in the other hand, and they continued walking, following the arrow the birds made in the sky.
© 2010,2011 Luz Briar.

story- Earl Swan (5)

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part 5 of 6
-5-
In another week’s time, it was made public that the heiress Lady Parade would be wedding the Honorable Sir Juan Baker. As Des’ ladies’ maid, Bri was of course expected to attend. She was to arrange the household staff for that bright day, except she was not enthused at all.
For one, she was busy with trying to turn the poor transfigured earl back into a man. She carried the earl swan with her through the house sometimes, and the staff at first feared for her sanity. But Des allowed for it, as it was something she and her new fiancé found amusing.
Des had tied a bow about the bird’s neck to easily tell it apart from the other swans. But soon it was clear that the animal had no need for a bow, because he took to following Bri inside most of the times, much like a dog.
She was sad on the first evening when she served the bird left-over chicken and then realized the horror of it.
“No! I’m so sorry, my lord!” she declared taking the plate away.
Bri detected some sadness in the animal at the table. She had almost forced Orion into cannibalism. Instead, she took out stale bread and gave them to the sad bird.
“I’m sorry for everything…” she told him as he ate.
The other staff must have watched on with wide eyes and concerned spirits.
As for Des’ Indian henchmen, Bri had not seen or heard from their head butler Puli in quite some time. In fact, he had disappeared around the same time as the earl, Bri noticed. But there was nothing she could make of it just yet.
At night, she refused to send the swan back out to the pond so she filled the extra tub with lukewarm water and let him paddle in circles until he flew out at the bedside and went to sleep.
In her spare time, she researched the reversal of hexes. She took the swan with her wherever she went, for she feared Des would kill and cook him if she turned her back. Now, when she met the heiress’ eyes she was fearful.
One evening as she ventured to the library with the swan shadowing her, she bumped into the heiress.
“Ms Salud? Good evening,” she gave a small nod to the bird, “My lord, how are you?”
“That is not funny,” Bri interjected. “Do not mock his position.”
“Why not? He mocked mine when he slept with my closest friend.”
Bri gave pause to this. No, she would not be swayed to apology now. She had already apologized after all, as did Orion.
“I am sorry you have felt betrayed. Now this evening I will ask you what I have every night for the past two weeks—“
“No, I will not change him back.”
“You can’t, can you?” Bri taunted. “You toyed with magic you don’t even understand, didn’t you?”
“I could if I wanted to,” Des whispered. “Don’t speak too loudly. The maids already want to send you to Bedlam.”
“You’re the one who belongs in a straightjacket, my lady.”
Bri glared at Des’ chest then, in search of any change. Des’ eyes widened slightly and for a moment her façade was cracked. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing, my lady. Excuse me now, I am going to read.”
“Don’t forget your beau.”
Bri fumed and marched into the privacy of the library. She already had a stack of books prepared for further reading. She had tried many things, such as waiting for the full moon and magical potions to free Orion from the spell. From what she read of mortals changed to beasts, their lifespan would extend somewhat longer than the average beast, but not by much.
She took a break from the books of folklore and myth, and visited the section on animals. She turned to a collection of bird watcher’s statistics and held her breath. She found the number of years for a healthy male swan and she dropped the book where she stood. She collapsed, sliding down the bookcase and finally wept.
She had doomed Orion to such a short life. She had taken away his voice and his mobility. She had even stripped him of his name and dignity. She wept for a long time there in the dimly lit library, into her hands.
She felt a nip at her ear and turned to see the earl swan staring at her. She collected it into her arms and cooed, “I’m so sorry, Muffin. I’m so sorry.”
Outside, hidden some ways in the surrounding forest there was a tree where Bri had etched a drawing of a woman. She had driven a nail into the effigy’s chest several nights ago and each night, as the ritual told her, she drove it in deeper. Her final hope was to kill the witch that had cursed her lover and perhaps in turn free him from the curse.
Tonight, she drove the nail in one more peg. But she recalled, as she lowered her hammer, that Des showed no signs of weakening.
She looked down to her bird companion and frowned. “Perhaps she will turn me into a rat. And then we will live about the same time, muffin…”
On the day of the wedding, Desdemona Parade had never looked more stunning. Brigid Salud had overheard some of the Indian servants discussing slaughtering the fattened swan for a meal, and they did so in their native tongue, not knowing she was fluent. She heard one of the men ask “How do I know which swan is the loon’s pet?” to which the other replied “It has a ribbon tied around its neck.”
Bri stole many ribbons from the dressing room then and ran to the pond. She decorated all the swans she could grab with them and arrived back to the house smelling of dirty pond bird. Her reason for not just removing the earl swan’s ribbon was that he was clearly the largest swan and would probably still be picked out. She instructed the earl swan to remain in the pond with his kin, so to avoid being cooked.
Then she was off to help Des prepare for the wedding.
“We are thinking of children’s names,” Des spoke idly as Bri helped to tie her corset. “I like the name Mercy but I think it is too common.”
“I would name a girl Hippolyta if you want uncommon,” Bri told her, pulling the laces extra tight.
“I would not ask your opinion on this matter. I am only thinking aloud to settle my nerves. Your marriage failed and produced no children.”
“I have a child,” Bri corrected her.
“What?” Des’ eyes widened in the body mirror. For a moment, Bri thought, the heiress really was pretty, when she was not acting. “You and Lord Arteberry had a child?”
“No, I was pregnant when I was a young girl and came to England from India,” Bri told her with a shrug, “I gave the child to proper parents. She never needed to know she was the result of cruelty.”
For once, Des had no dramatic face to offer and Bri was glad. If only she could shock the woman more often.
“I did not know.”
“You never asked,” Bri reasoned.
The hour of the actual wedding arrived. Bri happened to see her former husband Lord Arteberry in the reception, but she avoided him by wearing a blue veil and being amongst the bridesmaids. Arteberry was speaking to a tall, pale-haired woman who also wore a veil of white, concealing her features. Surely, he was trying to woo her. Bri rolled her eyes and proceeded with the wedding. Despite Des’ proclaimed hatred, Bri was, in fact, the maid of honor, donned in blue and bedecked with flowers.
But whispers from the other women were making her livid. The outdoors reception was nettlesome because it was windy and Bri was afraid for the earl swan. She counted Des’ Indian servants and noticed one number missing. She could not help but suspect that the man had gone to the pond in search of Orion. Or perhaps it was only Puli, missing as he had been for weeks now.
The ceremony became gloomy for Bri, as she thought of the fleeting nature of life. How long did a bird live? But really, how long did a man live? She was weeping when Des and Juan took their vows and kissed. Nobody thought a thing of it, because it was an occasion to cry joyously.
At the reception, a sumptuous feast was sprawled out across many picnic tables and the nobles gathered together to make small talk. Of course, Des’ wedding was large and immodest. Nothing about Des was subtle, after all.
From across the yard, the tall woman she had spotted earlier was walking towards her. But the cook had arrived and blocked Bri’s view. He set a tray on the picnic table and pulled off the top. People began to gravitate towards the main course but Bri let them pass her. She was like a dead woman standing as they shuffled past her and she stared, the blood draining from her face.
A large roasted bird was the main course.
© 2010-2011 Luz Briar.

story- Earl Swan (4)

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part 4 of 6
-4-
It came to Brigid as no shock when Desdemona did not dismiss her. Des had always been a woman of more bark than bite. What did shock her was the earl’s notable absence around the mansion. Or anywhere else for that matter.
Bri inquired into the town, going to market for her mistress. She intentionally selected rotten fruit and deformed eggs during the trip, but she also queried every busy-body she could find. No gossip had spread of the earl, and nobody knew where he had gone off to.
She sent a lengthy letter of inquiry to Constance Estate, Orion’s home, asking the staff there and any relatives as to his whereabouts. In a week’s time she had a reply, and it did not make her happy.
Orion was, for lack of a better term, missing.
It began to hurt at the week’s end. Bri felt her chest tighten at the thought. Where would he have gone? Was he hurt?
Of course, she glared at Des whenever their paths crossed. Des’ usual verbal ramblings were no longer Bri’s to hear, of which she was grateful. However, she was left with no clues.
By the eighth day of Orion’s absence, she finally sought her mistress out. She had done her morning errands, commanding all of the household staff on upkeep and the like. Now she had a moment to spare and she was going to use it.
“My lady,” she put her hand on the bow of Des’ violin, stopping the tremulous noise. “I want to know where he is. What will you have me do?”
Juan was in the large room with Des today. He was a tallish man with long, brown hair, easy on the eyes but profoundly shallow. He and Des made a fine match.
He nodded at her as she stared, her eyes narrowed in ill-humor.
“Juan, this is my librarian-assistant- ladies’ maid, Brigid Salud.”
“I have heard of you,” Juan smirked.
“We’ve already met, Sir Juan.”
“We have?”
“At my ex-husband’s wedding,” she said flatly. “You were 13 then.”
“I don’t recall being there.”
“Oh, you were there.”
Des pouted, apparently angry to have the attention stolen from her. She reprimanded Bri, “Let’s not talk about you-know-whom. The engagement is off, I have a lawyer on his way today along with an old acquaintance of Orion’s.”
“A lawyer? An old acquaintance? I thought you said you turned him into a swan, my lady.”
Juan snorted and Des shot him a look.
“Yes, but he can’t tell anyone that, now can he?”
“He can if the lawyer is fluent in Quack,” Bri snipped.
“HaHa,” Des feigned laughter. “You are so clever.”
They argued for a moment more, with Des commanding Bri to leave her presence. But Bri refused, raising her alto higher. Finally, she seized Des’ violin and threw open the room’s windows, running onto the balcony. She held the violin over the edge and put a hand on her hip.
“I have six more,” Des folded her arms, stepping onto the balcony.
“I know where they are,” Bri answered coolly.
“ Oh, look…” Des pointed to the pond where the swans, geese and ducks were lounging. “There is his lordship right now.”
“Cut the humbug, Desdemona!”
“Darling!” came Juan’s voice. “There is a man here!”
Des cocked an eyebrow at Bri and turned slowly. Bri lingered with the violin for a moment. She stared at it and then sent it flying over the edge.
Back in the drawing room, a new figure had entered. A man of distinguished appearance, perhaps handsome in his better days. He had black hair streaked with gray, and dark eyes.
The three seemed already familiar, leaving Bri the odd woman out. At least the newcomer grinned at her cordially.
“Bri, have you met Dr. Madison?”
Bri blinked, looking from each face to the other.
“Why don’t you tell my ladies’ maid what you and Lord Hookwell’s ‘relationship’ was.”
“It happened to be years ago,” the doctor mumbled. “I came to vouch for his infidelity in confidence, my lady.”
“He hasn’t been unfaithful,” Bri defended Orion. “Not until me.”
“His word against ours,” Des reminded the maid.
Bri’s laugh erupted then. Under other circumstances she would have been embarrassed, but today she was too angry.
The doctor stepped over then. He was aggressive, grabbing Bri’s shoulder and looked her over. “That is fascinating.”
Bri pulled away defensively and the doctor mused, “I never would have thought…”
“Can we get onto business now?” Des demanded.
“…he would lay with a woman,” spoke the doctor.
“Well, he did. Why are you helping this woman hurt him, doctor? What wrong has he done you?”
“None, Ms. Salud. But the Lady Parade has money,” he smiled wryly. “I am getting old, I will need to retire soon.”
“Tell her what a raging sodomite he is,” Des grumbled. “Tell her how he disappeared from home when he was 15 and spent a year with you—“
“Business,” the doctor turned around, also apparently tired of Des’ cruelty. “When will the lawyer be here?”
Bri could stand it no longer. Again, she found herself storming out of the room in a rage.
Raiding Des’ library was an easy task. The only use it had was by staff and the employer when she wanted new books to display on the front coffee table. Des recalled the ones that Des had ordered to look at time and again. Certain things that the heiress thought were deviant. The Witch’s Grimoire, for example, which Des seemed to believe contained spells. She was unaware that it was possibly the most misogynistic piece of literature ever written, and little more than a guidebook for hunting down ‘witches.’ She did know of a few books that covered folklore and pagan practices. Those were the ones that Bri checked out. She also rummaged through the writings that Orion had left behind, because he did happen to be an expert in demonology. It was the topic of his thesis in University.
Brigid had needed to force herself to do this research, because it was preposterous.
Then again, a wise Brahman in India had once taught her that a closed mind was the worst handicap.
Hexes to change a human into an animal seemed common enough, though Bri could not find a universal method amongst magicians. Often, in myth, as Orion’s notes told her, the gods would transform themselves into animals to seduce maidens. But sometimes, such as the case of the arrogant spinner Arachne, a mortal would be transformed into some lowly beast as a punishment.
“But how do I know…?” she asked the silence, as she lay in her bed, throwing another book aside.
Finally, thanks again to Orion’s notes, Bri had some form of an answer.
Usually a piece of clothing or a prized possession of the person is presented to the animal in legends. If the animal becomes possessive of this item, it cues the searcher as to whether or not this is that person.
It was the dead of night, but Bri ran to Orion’s chamber anyway. She searched the drawers and turned up empty handed. Des must have emptied the room out. Keeping her anger at bay, Bri then marched to the study. The same study where she had seduced the earl. There on the desk, his reading glasses were left untouched.
She ran with them outside, after seizing a lantern and ventured to the pond.
Most of the animals were asleep, but a few were stirring. Bri’s lantern seemed to bother them greatly.
She felt a great fool shouting it, but she forced herself. “Muffin? Are you there?”
After a moment of silence and soft quacks, Bri peeled into laughter. She had to wipe a tear away from her eyes at the thought of herself calling out to a pond like this. In her momentary hysteria, she put Orion’s glasses on and tried to simmer down.
The glasses were snatched from her face then. “Ow!”
She opened her eyes to behold a swan, the same large one from the other day, clamping the glasses in his jaws.
She stared, unable to hold in her laugh.
“Holy mother of god…Muffin?”
© 2010-2011 Luz Briar.

story-Earl Swan (3)

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part 3 of 6
-3-
Bri woke with her arms around someone’s waist.
She peeled her face from a pillow and found herself in Orion’s arms. They were completely nude. She gaped as the night came back to her clearly, all the kissing and the passion.
She had done illicit things with the earl and they had retired to his private bedroom. All the while, Desdemona was probably upstairs pretending to be a musical genius.
Orion looked peaceful asleep and Bri blushed as she recalled their love-making.
She felt the sudden urge to run from the mansion and hide. She had doomed them both now. When Desdemona found out…no, Des would never find out!
“Orion…” she whispered, sweeping hair from his forehead.
His eyes fluttered open and he yawned. He seemed to be in a daze and then he frowned, “Oh no…we probably should not have done that, love.”
“She never needs to know!” Bri collected his face in her hands. “Never! Now you know what you need to know to be a dutiful husband and…” she hopped out of the bed. “my work here is done.”
She saw him look away bashfully from her naked frame and she crawled back into bed, all of her boldness evaporated. Then they were embracing again, clinging to one another. They kissed once, but Bri pulled away, realizing she would want more than a kiss if she kept going.
“We must tell her,” Orion sighed.
“What! Why? She’ll kill us! She already thinks she’s a witch!”
Bri eyed him, watching him collect his thoughts. He seemed more sad than frightened.
She demanded, “What are you thinking? Tell me! What are you thinking?”
The knock on the bedroom door made them both jump. A man’s voice called through, thick with an Indian accent, “Mistress wishes to see you, Lord Hookwell.”
Orion cast Bri an apologetic look, and he looked so miserable she wanted to hold him again. But he inched out of bed.
Bri covered herself with the blanket as the earl dressed himself. She was hoping to stay there and disappear, but the covers were thrown off as she met Orion’s eyes.
He touched her shoulder softly, “Please do not flee, Bri. I want to speak with you after I speak to her…”
“One of her lackeys heard us…” she mumbled, her voice sounding raw. “I know it. One of her henchmen heard us in the study…”
“It does not matter.”
“Yes, it does! I will lose my job and she will throw you in a cauldron and make a fake witch’s brew. Or sacrifice you to Pan. Or whatever the bloody hell she thinks she can do.”
He cupped her face, soothing her, “Please remain calm. She has been sleeping with every man above the equator. She cannot tell me anything about one transgression. And I will have all the blame on me.”
Before she could protest, he threw the blanket back over her and she heard the door open and close. She waited a moment before poking her head out from under the covers.
The poor man. I have doomed him…
Though she knew it was expected of her to remain downstairs, Bri groomed herself for the day. Before the large, elaborate mirror she straightened her dress. She examined herself, still in awe at what happened. It was dawning on her how unlikely a match Orion was for her, even in an affair. True, she had a lovely shape and a few charms. But she also had an overbite and was small in stature, nothing to compare to Desdemona or any real seductress.
Content with her appearance, she patted her bun into place and headed upstairs. She checked the corners and shadows for any of Des’ henchmen. She had an array of them, most of them from India, men who had ended up in England without jobs. They were loyal to their mistress and Bri often heard them talking lewdly about the “busty rat librarian.” They did not realize she knew many languages and she understood their tongue. But she was not about to tell them that.
Bri knew that her mistress’ favorite room overlooked the fields of her vast country estate, and as she approached she heard the faint rumble of arguing.
Desdemona’s hissing whisper fighting with Orion’s soft baritone. Bri was glad that neither was screaming. Desdemona was not a fighter, so it would be highly irregular for her to scream even when enraged. As for Orion, Bri had never known him to be very militant either.
“What I am telling you, is that the fault is mine, not hers…” Orion’s voice carried through the oak door. “I exploited my position of power and made her fall.”
Bri set her ear to it, listening. She could hardly decipher Des’ words, but Orion’s lie ignited indignation. Why should he take the blame? And furthermore, why should Bri play a victim?
Bri’s cauldron of emotions pushed her forward and she pulled the latch on the door. Of course, it was locked. She knocked then, still bold.
It was Orion who opened the door, with a frown.
“…oh no. Why, Bri? Why didn’t you stay downstairs?”
“My lady,” she called out to the heiress. “It was I! I seduced your husband and not the other way around! He is too much a gentlemen to have forced himself on anyone and you know that.”
She was not thinking of her employment. She was thinking instead of how Orion cried to her when he told her the truth, how he had trusted her. How he had let her teach him…
Des was sulking by the bookcase, and her eyebrow rose as she scanned Bri. In moments like this, Des seemed like a cracked actress, who had forgotten her lines, so she focused instead on her body language.
Des’ unfeeling gaze weakened Bri then, and she withdrew into herself. Her mouth dried as did her words. She hung her head.
“Des, perhaps you should not look at this as a bad thing…”
Des neck cracked as she shot Orion a glare. “What? Not a bad thing? You diddled my assistant, my closest friend.”
“And you buggered every man in the area! HaHa!” Bri exclaimed, followed by her usual laugh.
Des bit her thumb at Bri and snarled as if to say “shut-up!”
She was feeling whorish, admittingly. But it had been passion, after all. Not dirty, meaningless buggery.
“You choose my ugly librarian over me,” Des narrowed her eyes. “Very well…Unlock the door.”
Des snapped her fingers at Bri, the usual gesture she did for compliance. Bri defied it. Orion spoke up in her defense, “Des, I did not choose anything. Now we, the two people closest to you, made a mistake. If we ask for your forgiveness, is it really so much to ask? You have insulted me weekly with your escapades. And furthermore, you will not call Ms. Salud ugly!”
Des rushed over to the door herself and flung it open. She then conversed with a manservant quickly and in a tone too low for Bri to decipher. When Des returned, she wore a sly smile. “Why don’t you both have a seat?”
She gestured to the sofa in an exaggerated manner.
“I am willing to discuss this.”
Her eyebrows were low, her smile contrived and controlled. Bri felt a violent urge to slap the woman until she stopped acting.
The lovers glanced at one another and made their way toward the sofa. Orion looked agitated, and had his face in his hands.
“Really, Desdemona. Let’s not make a big show of this. What are you planning?”
“That all depends…” Des sauntered over to the window and peered out. “I want to hear your explanation.”
“Bloody hell…” Bri grumbled.
Orion had to explain his one mistake, but Des was free from scrutiny. Bri was fuming with indignation.
The bodyguard reappeared at the door with a tray, bearing two goblets. It was set before Orion and Bri on the coffee table.
In her fury, Bri went to grab a cup and Orion’s hand seized her wrist. He shook his head at her as if in warning.
“Actually,” Des spoke, turning back to them mechanically, “I’d like to speak to Ms. Salud alone. Orion, would you let Puli escort you out? He could show you the new sword collection we have downstairs.”
“I would rather stay, thank you.” Orion spoke.
Bri sensed protectiveness in his voice.
“Don’t be afraid of Puli,” Des offered. “He is very friendly.”
“He seems very nice for a henchme—I mean—a bodyguard,” Orion casts the bald Indian a glance. “But I prefer to stay.”
The manservant had a bulbous head, a dark mustache and terrifyingly large eyes. He did not have an appearance that leant itself of gentility.
Des then made a big show of thinking. She sauntered out of the room without so much as telling them farewell. Bri looked over to Orion.
“I’m glad she left. I was about to smack her with the first heavy volume I could find…”
“We must not act foolishly now, Bri. We must handle this better than we handled our urges.”
Bri met his eyes then. “I am sorry, Orion…”
For a minute he lingered, as though he would kiss her forehead. He stood and offered her his hand. “Stay near me today. Until we know her decision. I am beginning to see what you meant about the delusions…”
Throughout that day the librarian and the earl stayed in one another’s company. Sure enough, the vast mansion seemed to be crawling with Desdemona’s servants, all waiting for a chance to pick off one of the lovers while they were alone.
In tense moments, Bri and Orion fought, arguing over what the next course of action would be. But always Bri would say something tactless and Orion would laugh, ending the fight.
The heiress herself could not be found. She avoided her fiancé and assistant throughout the day, and what she was planning they could not learn. Though, sometime during sundown, Bri overheard two of her Indian servants discussing a pond. But she could not make sense of the rest, for they were whispering in their native tongue.
It came to be dark and both of them were weary, so Orion escorted Bri to her room.
“I must confess, I am afraid to sleep under this roof tonight…” she told him.
“Desdemona is delusional, Bri. But she is bark and no bite,” Orion promised.
“I would not be so sure, Muffin.”
“Then sleep with me,” he offered.
“That is what got us into this mess…” Bri reminded him. “If we share a bed…surely it will happen again.”
Orion hung his head and nodded, “I suppose you are right. But if anything should happen, come to me. Do not hesitate to scream.”
“I will scream for you, my lord. Only promise to do the same for me.”
He smiled, “I will scream most vigorously.”
They leaned in, almost kissing, but instead he kissed her forehead. They stood in this position for a time and Bri could hear his breath catch in his throat. He wanted to kiss her, she knew. But he was controlling himself. Instead his hand found her left ear and massaged it, making her laugh.
“Goodnight, Bri. Lock your doors.”
“You do the same, Muffin.”
In her private bedchamber, Bri not only locked her doors but pushed what she could in front of it. She knew the heiress had skeleton keys and she did not want any visitors in the night. With a clothing chest, a chair and a small cabinet in front of the door, Bri felt secure for herself. But she feared for the earl. He did not seem to share her opinion that Desdemona was both delusional and dangerous.
As she dozed off that night, his voice stayed with her and she tried not to dwell on it. If something should happen to him, she would never forgive herself.
Come morning, the earl was nowhere to be found.
Bri searched all of his usual haunts; the library, the study, his bedchamber. Her panic did not set in until she was on her knees in his room, desperately looking beneath the bed.
In the hallway, rushing along with her skirts up, she ran into one of the servants. The man glared at her, took in the sight of her cleavage and then asked, “Why do you run?”
“I cannot find the earl! Have you seen him?”
“The mistress wants to speak to you.”
“Answer my question!”
The man seized her wrist and she squeaked, kneeing him in the groin.
“How dare you!” she hissed. “You cannot touch me!”
“Brigid,” came a soft female voice.
She turned and met with Desdemona’s sneer.
“Why must you attack everything that is mine?”
“My lady, where is the earl? Did he leave?”
“I don’t know,” Des answered, pouting. “And I don’t care. I would like to speak to you.”
“Did you order your servant to manhandle me?”
“No, he took that liberty on his own. Perhaps he thought you would like it,” she mocked.
“Don’t toy with me, Lady Parade.”
“Come upstairs, will you? I am not angry.”
After Bri gave the servant an angry nod and turned around, she followed the heiress upstairs but watched her back. She looked in every corner for lurking servants. In India, as a teenager with no home, Bri became accustomed to defending herself against lurking human predators. Still frazzled from being grabbed without warning, she was back to her more feral fight-mode. Though little, Bri could be fierce.
In Desdemona’s favored room, overlooking the fields, the mistress and servant situated themselves. Bri could not bring herself to sit. She stood and folded her arms, waiting for the heiress to speak.
“You’ve helped me to make a decision, Brigid,” Des told her, sitting by the window. “I have been considering it for a long time. But now I know what I must do.”
“And what’s that, my lady?” Bri could not even pretend to care.
“I do not love Lord Hookwell. I love another man, and that is the man I should marry. You have helped me to see that Hookwell will not be a good husband.”
“Humbug!”
“I beg your pardon?” Des stood, indignant at Bri’s insubordination. Her servant had never cursed at her before. “I am being very generous by not firing you and having you arrested.”
“Yes, you are a river unto your people, Lady Parade. Your husband was afraid he would not satisfy you in bed!” Bri confessed at last. “I seduced him. It was all me.”
“I know,” Des spun back around and returned to the window. “That is why he and I will never work. I need a real man.”
Bri grinded her teeth as Des kept going. “He may come out of hiding whenever he chooses and when he does I will tell him I love someone else.”
“I refuse to believe he is hiding. Tell me where he is.”
Des looked at Bri in disgust and then, as she handled all problems, Des simply walked out of the room. “He is at the pond.”
Bri loathed humoring Desdemona. But she went to the pond regardless. She could not take the chance that Orion was waiting for her there and she did not show.
But when she reached the pond outside, all she could see were the gardens and then the lily weeds. Ducks and swans recognized Bri instantly and began to float over to her. She often fed them stale bread and they thought she had a bag with her.
The earl was nowhere to be seen. She watched a train of baby ducks following their mother and she sat in the grass and covered her face.
She felt a bite to her ear and she squeaked. “Ow!”
A swan had bitten her, though it was only looking for bread, so she did not shoo it away. It was a big swan, probably male, and very brave to be so close. Bri reached out and pet it carefully before she got up and dusted herself off.
Inside she sought out her mistress and found her in the music room. All she had to do was follow the sound of an abused violin to find her.
“My lady, he is not at the pond…I would appreciate it if you were honest with me. I must have a word with him.”
“He is at the pond,” Des answered, her back to Bri.
“No, he is not. Do stop lying.”
Des let the bow off of the instrument and turned to Bri. “The pond is his new home.”
Bri raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Of course it is. Enough games.”
“There are no games. You should feed him some stale bread from the pantry.”
The heiress went back to her instrument and Bri took in her words. When their meaning settled in, she was enraged.
She was supposed to believe that this woman was a witch? This woman, who could hardly play an instrument or maintain an adult relationship was supposed to be an enchantress? And she would not even look at Bri.
Bri stormed over to Des and ripped the bow out of her hands. She threw it across the room and yelled at the woman “Where is he!”
“I already told you!” Des hissed. “Leave my presence!”
Bri backed up slowly, bristling. She rushed out of the room to avoid her temper flaring worse.
© 2010-2011 Luz Briar.