intermission: Orion's Poem "Unquiet Grave"

What an unquiet grave

A tomb so un-still

Howls rising in the night

The souls so dark and ill.

Now sing “Rest in Peace.”

You sing “Rest in Peace.”

What an unquiet grave,

We hear your foot falls pass.

Whilst we rant and rave

Your hands, they point, you laugh.

Laughing “rest in peace.”

“Poor fools, rest in peace.”

God’s cast-offs,

Live behind iron bars

God’s last thoughts

Were of earthly black scars.

For the lunatics need

These irons ‘bout their wrists.

For we lunatics plead

For death’s noble kiss.

Hell unsheathes in our eyes

The eyes of the weak

Wicked and then tragic

Avert yours when we speak.

You will rest in peace.

You know Rest and Peace.

Heretical writings

Ask you to touch the madman’s sick bare hand

Without your gloves.

Contagions damned!

Heretical writings

Ask that you visit this restless old grave

Out of your love

Even touch the mud

Leaving flowers with cards “from…”

What an unquiet grave.

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.

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.

story- The Earl Swan (2)

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part 2 of 6
-2-
THE 3^rd Earl of Constance had traveled a good distance to visit his fiancé Lady Parade. They had planning to do, for their wedding was in a month’s time. For propriety’s sake, of course, Orion was given his own room.
But Bri could not find him there. She had knocked but received no answer.
She thought then of all the book-related conversations they had had in private and in letters. Orion read constantly, and he was an expert on archeology, perhaps he would be in the study doing what he did best.
Sure enough, there was a light beneath the door.
She rapped on the door gently. She smiled when a soft baritone called out, “Come in.”
She stepped in and closed the door behind her. The fading sunlight illuminated the desk and the slender earl turned in his chair.
“Ms. Salud, why hello…” he gave his wide smile. “Do have a seat.”
“My lord, I’ve just come down from talking to Lady Parade.”
“Oh? How was it?”
He had a ruler, which he was using to sketch out some kind of floor plan. Bri had seen him make many things, musically and artistically. He was, in a word, ‘brilliant.’
“She…well, sir. Permission to be frank?”
He looked up through his glasses. He took them off and reclined in his chair. “What’s wrong, dear?”
She caught herself gazing again and shook herself. “Oh… nothing. She just…I feel like I would be a bad friend if I didn’t tell you. And yet…she is my mistress. I cannot betray her confidence…she…called you a ‘sodomite!’”
“Oh?” he looked off in the distance. “She used that word?”
“Yes, and for once, I think she used a word correctly. And she’s…I’m afraid she’s not being faithful, my lord…”
Orion’s green eyes dropped to the floor. He nodded, “I know, Ms. Bri. I’ve known for some time.”
“What? But, my lord! She is doing it as revenge for something that is not even true! She thinks you slight her for the same sex! That is not fair…”
“Well, you are right. It is not, I have been faithful,” he sighed. “But…she is not…entirely wrong. Do not tell anyone, please.”
He turned to the librarian then, and she stiffened when she realized he was crying.
“Orion, eh, my lord, please…” she stood from her seat and threw her arms around him. “Do not cry…I won’t tell anyone…but is it true?”
“I’m afraid so…I am…a deviant.”
“Don’t cry, Orion. Oh, don’t cry,” she stroked his hair.
The thought was strange, she must admit to herself. Thinking of the man with other men was surreal. But then again, he was so gentle and elegant…perhaps he needed someone masculine to compliment him. Bri had never been one to dismiss unconventional things just because they were uncommon.
“So…you do not love Lady Parade?”
“Oh, I love her…why else would I be faithful when I do not want her…?” he asked, pulling away.
She had always perceived Orion as a strong individual, even somewhat icy. To see him weep was making her afraid.
Desdemona was Bri’s least favorite person in that moment. She kissed Orion’s forehead before she realized what she was doing.
He looked up at her, wide-eyed. “What should I do?”
“Confront her. She is being unfaithful. That is grounds for a split.”
“I promised my mother I would wed Lady Parade. I hope to uphold that promise.”
“But she is causing you pain, my lord. Would your mother want that?”
“No…no, she wouldn’t.”
Bri was astonished by how quickly the man was following her lead. She realized she was stroking his hair and she stopped. He frowned when she did.
“I am sorry, Bri,” he said, reaching into his pocket for a small handkerchief. He cleaned his face and whispered, “I am a wreck thinking about it…there is much expected of me…that I do not know if I will be able to do.”
Bri knew exactly what he was referring to and she nodded. “Perhaps a physician would have advice.”
He looked up at her, his eyes like harvest moons. “What? No, no! telling a doctor would be scandalous.”
“You would not have to tell him why, muffin. All you would have to say is that you cannot perform.”
Orion absorbed this advice and looked at the ceiling, “Yes…yes, I suppose that would work. It is embarrassing but not scandalous…you are a clever woman, Brigid Salud.”
“Thank you, sir. I learned to be swift when I was an orphan.”
“It’s most admirable.”
“So is being so virtuous while being engaged to an alligator,” she stopped herself, her laugh bursting forth again. “Forget I said that!”
Orion stared and then laughed easily. “It will be quite difficult to forget…I only hope the physician would not ask too many questions…”
“Perhaps if you…close your eyes and imagine it were a man…”
Orion blushed and looked out the window. He scratched his neck and mumbled, “No, no, Bri. T-t-that would not work. I’m…I don’t, well, you know, I don’t do that…”
Bri cocked her head like a cat. Then her nervous laugh returned. She put her hands to her face as she blushed painfully. Had she really just mentioned something so private? And had he really just offered her such intimate detail? So, he was not the leader in bed…
Bri was not an ignorant woman. She had read many things that most men in England would blush over. She knew of the Kuma Sutra, for example, that book which everyone seemed to fear and cherish all at once. She knew the secrets of manly love.
“Well…I’ve read before…of a way…for…”
She bit her lip and inched forehead. Orion did not pull away and she whispered in his ear. When she pulled away, his face was red again.
“Good heavens! Ms. Salud! Where did you read that?” he laughed. “I know you were married, but…”
She smiled at how shy he became. Her last husband, the awful viscount who had gone all the way to Parliament to divorce her, had nothing to do with the knowledge she had gleaned from reading.
“I’m not afraid I understand entirely…” His eyebrow cocked and she felt nervous but had to press on. It seemed he was being playful. She could not stop herself from whispering more in his ear.
To her sudden delight, he had his hand on her back then and he whispered another question in her ear.
She giggled and answered in kind.
They seemed to exchange these intimate details for an entire night, which ended with Bri on his lap, kissing him. Her hands were in his hair and he held her in place. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen and she was not going to let the moment pass by as if it were nothing. She was going to seize this opportunity.
Then, there in the office, she gave him a demonstration of what she had been talking about.
Earl Swan is © 2010-2011 Luz Briar. ALL rights Reserved.

A Song for Joy: from "Demoniac"

a Poem to Joy
Her name was Joy for she smiled wide smiles
Wide as the sky, as a little child
But when she bore a babe they would sigh and die
Poor joy was dejected; she cried and cried
Until keepers came to throw and tote
Joy into the madhouse with her woe, not to let her out
So endless tears could fall and fall
Out of our sight behind walls and walls

(from my "Demoniac" book. Go on, ask me about it!)
 (c)2010 me.