Draining the Humor- Epilogue

Epilogue

Orion followed Bri into the parlor. There was a heavy April shower outside and the falling was pattering the roof, but peaceful.

Charles, Lucy and Amadeus were playing cards at the table. Charles was cursing in good humor, challenging something his wife had said. Meanwhile, Lucy chattered back while laughing, her red dress blending with the table cloth. Amadeus took a swallow of his wine and then turned in Orion’s direction and smiled.

Bri’s manner had softened toward the sailor. She now understood Charles method toward Orion. Like mad-doctor, Charles had needed to drain the bad humors from his ex-lover, to force him to heal. For that Bri was grateful.

Bri smirked and pulled her husband by his sleeve. For once he did not seem afraid of their company and for that, she was immensely grateful to Amadeus. The two got along smashingly. Bri sat opposite her man and he claimed a chair beside Amadeus.

The five continued laying the cards down among idle chitchat and Bri watched Orion smile up at Amadeus with innocence. She could tell his hand must be on the bigger man’s thigh. The other night, she heard her husband give in, letting himself go and offering himself up to Amadeus. In the room beside hers, she heard them make love all night and she tried not to laugh, with fodder to tease her husband the next day and with relief. Orion had released himself from restriction.

“Happy birthday, Muffin,” Bri told him, managing to whisper. Her laugh popped up and Orion laughed.

“Are you ready, dear?”

She nodded and Orion stood.

“The real reason we called you here was because we have an announcement to make.”

Lucy covered her mouth, crystal eyes widening. Charles cocked a brow and Amadeus looked on with his usual intensity.

“Brigid and I are expecting.”

Lucy squeaked and Charles gave Orion a generous nod. “Well done, Orion. Well done.”

Lucy stood, breaking the general eloquence and threw her arms around Bri. It was that moment she realized she loved the Arteberrys and their friend Amadeus.

“Brigid, congratulations, darling!”

Charles raised his glass and it was understood. The others did as well.

“To the Hookwell’s healthy infant. The fourth earl of Constance, perhaps.”

When the giddiness wore off, and the wine was taking its effect, Bri climbed the stairs to the largest room on the first floor. She threw open the balcony doors to breathe in the fresh air. From this location, the view was perfect for the pond. Bri watched the swans and leaned on the stone banister. There was a light drizzle that wet her, but the air was hot and the stickiness was womblike. She herself had never met her mother. She remembered a baby of her own once, long ago, the product of a terrible intrusion on her body. How she had wanted to keep the infant, but how she knew she would have to give it up to people who could care for it.

“It’s a beautiful view,” Orion’s voice found her.

“Like you,” she half-teased, but her sincerity was right beneath her skin. She felt tears welling up.

Yesterday her husband had told her all at last. She was still coming to terms with how someone could betray such a gentle creature as Orion. At the end of the broken heart, there was the worst fate, being locked in a madhouse in an attempt to get him out of the way. The fact that he escaped and functioned in society was a miracle in itself.

“Like you,” Orion took her face in his hands. “Thank you, Bri.”

She noticed that Orion had brought company. Mini Muffin, the baby swan with the bad wing.

“I told you I was right. You feel better now, don’t you?” she said, petting the swan.

“Holding it in was…rottenness. It festered. The older I had gotten, the harder it would have been to tell you. I am glad we did before the baby,” he stopped himself. His voice had caught.

Bri took his face now and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “You’re going to be a father.”

“I know, Bri. Thank you, Bri. You set me free.”

“I think Mini Muffin is well,” he announced.

“Darling, his wing is deformed.”

Orion smirked and let the baby swan go, it flapped its good wings and flew from the balcony to join its family. Bri gaped at Orion.

They embraced as the drizzle fell heavier.

© 2011 Luz Briar. All Rights Reserved.

Draining the Humor (8)- simple understanding

8-simple understanding

Orion could not help but feel pain looking at the level of Hell Dante preserved for Sodomites. The illustration caused him grief, not because he thought he would merit it in his afterlife. No, he had been a merciful man. More merciful than the average. But a fellow person thought Orion deserved such torture.

He and his wife were looking over the haunting image. Orion laughed suddenly, recalling the time Bri had spoken up at tea about the Divine Comedy, in front of company “Who does Dant think he is? This work is not funny in the least.”

“What are you laughing at?” Bri asked, running a hand through his hair.

“The time you thought the ‘Divine Comedy’ was supposed to be funny.”

She hit his arm playfully and sat in his lap. He kissed her, lingering. “Brigid, you light the dark for me.”

She laughed and gave a subtle blush.

“Orion…”

When the butler appeared in their doorway, Bri jumped from Orion’s lap and straightened herself out. The man turned red and apologized. “I’m sorry, my lord and lady, your door was open.”

“It is alright, Papworth. What is it?”

“A visitor, my lord. A Mr. Frunberg.”

Orion set the illustrated volume on the nightstand. Bri had dragged him from his study to do something besides work. But now it was time to get back on schedule.

“I will be down in a second.”

He parted Bri with a kiss and descended the steps. At the bottom of the stairs the large frame revealed Amadeus.

“Amadeus?” he stopped at the foot of the stairs.

The German nodded to Orion with a slight smile, but a furrowed brow.

“Is there something the matter, my friend?”

“No, sir. I am here to pay you a visit.”

“You are? Would you care to sit?”

Amadeus nodded and followed the earl into the drawing room. The maid was cleaning feverishly and Orion called to her lightly, “Lily. Take some time to rest.”

The young maid turned to Orion, “Thank you, sir.”

He could sense she was tired, and he thought it cruel to work servants to the bone. They were people, after all.

“What brings you here, Mr. Frunberg?”

“I worried.”

Orion smiled at Amadeus’ characteristic short answers. He leaned forward in his chair, “About what, pre tel?”

“You were upset at the race track the other day. I wanted to see if you were doing well.”

“Very well,” Orion could not help but smile wide, “My wife sees to it that I do not stress. I have no hard feelings toward Mr. Arteberry either. It is only his way.”

“I know you will forgive him. You seem to be a merciful man. I am only worried about you. I mean to tell you something,” the man hesitated, blue eyes hazing a bit, “something private.”

Quite suddenly, Orion felt his flesh become excited, but he kept it at bay. The timing was strange and he did not understand it.

Amadeus looked about the den. “Permission to speak freely?”

When Orion nodded, his companion tensed in his armchair, “My sister was in the madhouse too. It is not a good institution. It is not a fair way. I am sorry for your hardship.”

It was unexpected, like cold but refreshing water. Orion had no time to choose his words this time, “Amadeus, I am sorry. Has she left?”

“She died in Constance Asylum. They fed her pills that make seizures.”

Orion hung his head in heavy thought. His worst torment in those dark days was the thought of perishing within the walls of the madhouse. Thrown into bedlam by men who wanted to disenfranchise him as a melodramatic, shy 15-year-old. He had no voice…

“Dark days pass for some of us. Not all…but I am lucky. Thank you, Amadeus. I greatly appreciated your kindness.”

“How is your wife?” the man seemed suddenly nervous.

Orion looked the muscular man up and down and smirked. What did he have to be shy about?

“She is well. Would you like to speak with her?”

As they headed up the stairs, Orion was hyper-aware of the doll maker’s eyes on him and the feeling gave him warm sensations. He could not help but wonder how strong Amadeus truly was... When they reached Bri’s chamber they found the door ajar and no woman inside.

“She is likely at the pond feeding her swans,” Orion shrugged. “She loves her animals.”

Amadeus stepped forward, as they were alone in the room. Orion’s heart jumped.

“My lord…permission to speak freely? There is something I must say,” his tone was demanding. It was hardly a request, more of a demand.

Orion would have bristled at the harsh tone, except that he realized it was only Amadeus’ way of speaking. He nodded and held his ground.

“Arteberry is so vulgar…” He reached out and cautiously, with one finger stroked Orion’s face. “You can find another…”

“You think so?” Orion asked.

He was utterly in shock, and yet a part of him suspected Amadeus was like him. Though he could not tell if the man was offering companionship or suggesting Orion simply find better.

“And you do not judge me?”

“I think you are beautiful…” Amadeus offered with a grunt. “A man like Charles will insult you. You could have any you wish. Why him?”

“You are most kind,” Orion heard his own voice lowering.

He inched forward. “Have you a better suggestion?”

He looked the man over quite obviously then. He was quite attractive and Orion would not deny him a night of experimentation.

“Your wife is correct that if you hold such things in you will become ill. But you should be selective. You can have any man you wish…”

Orion smiled and stepped forward. He had always suspected curiosity from Amadeus. But in retrospect, he could see the attraction. Why had he been blind?

He kissed Amadeus, chaste but lingering.

© 2011 Luz Briar. All Rights Reserved.

Draining the Humor (5)- a night at the opera

5-a night at the opera

The Arteberrys and the Hookwells set up a date for an outing.
Lucy had a supporting role in an upcoming London opera, and the couples decided the event would be a good occasion to socialize afterwards.
Orion arranged to get them a booth, but stepping up the stairs, a foot shot out of one of the private booths and Orion nearly tripped.
The curtains were drawn aside and Charles revealed himself. He smirked at the couple and Bri’s laugh erupted. Half the opera house turned to stare and hiss for silence. Bri hid her face in Orion’s shirt as he shrugged and stepped forward.
Bri took in Charles’ appearance. As always, he was appealing, though today he had dressed rather nicely for his wife’s show. Not like a sailor at all. He even had his longish hair pulled back, giving him an almost feminine look.
But there was someone there Bri recognized but could not name.
The muscular blonde man she had seen at Lucy’s piano a few weeks ago.
“Charles, we were heading to our booth,” Orion announced.
“Nonsense. You’re sitting with Amadeus and I. He is a bore in conversation. A good chap, but a bloody bore.”
Amadeus shrugged, apparently used to Charles’ bluntness.
“Have we met?” Bri interrupted, nodding to Amadeus.
Already, Charles was eyeing Orion. The earl looked away shyly and Bri squeezed his hand.
Amadeus answered gruffly, his voice thick with a German accent, “Ch’ay. Not formally. Amadeus Frunberg, my lady.”
“Brigid Hookwell,” she gave a small bow. “And this is my husband Lord Hookwell.”
Amadeus nodded in acknowledgement, apparently a man of few words.
Charles easily compensated for Amadeus’ silence.
“Lucy sings a love song and then exits. I’m considering doing the same, except I’d be beaten if I left early. Perhaps you two can bloody well entertain me during this thing.”
“You don’t like opera, Mr. Arteberry?” Bri asked.
“Charles does not like most things,” Orion spoke as he allowed his wife to sit first. “He can be quite harsh.”
“But that is what you like about me, isn’t it, my lord?”
Orion merely changed the topic. “What is the role your wife shall play?”
“A Queen reminiscing a young romance. Her lover died as a result of their copulating and because he was a commoner had his head whacked off. It’s tearful and lovely and all that mess. Brigid,” Charles snapped them out of their comfort zone by calling her by her first name. “I know my brother Stephen must have taken you to operas before. Did you ever fall asleep during one?”
“I think they sing too loud for me to go to sleep, Charles,” she returned the casual address. “Have you?”
“No, but I have had my cock sucked in one of these private booths. During a very long solo from a diva. I find people suck better when they are bored.”
Amadeus rolled his eyes and Bri took Orion’s hand.
Charles was as aggressive as she recalled. Orion’s emotions were not yet legible. He was staring ahead at the stage as the overture came swelling to its grand middle. His green eyes cleared a bit and he turned to look at Charles.
It was then Bri wondered how two creatures, so contrast in their ways, could have united even for one night of passion.
“Charles, will you behave for your wife’s sake?” Orion asked.
“I wonder if I ever have,” Charles challenged the earl.
Bri would be more comfortable talking to Charles and Orion about their ulterior motifs if Amadeus was not present. She looked the man over. He was rather strapping, but did not seem the type Charles would befriend. Charles’ brown eyes narrowed when he saw Bri surveying Amadeus. He quipped, “I see you like Germans, Brigid.”
Bri laughed. “As pleasant as you are, Charles. I believe my husband and I will go to our own booth now. He did pay good money for it, after all.”
She squeezed Orion’s hand and he stood, apparently agreeing. If he had not, he would contradict her. Sometimes he did, as he was not one to follow blindly, something Bri admired in him. But he was also submissive when he agreed with a thing. And right now their private booth sounded good. They would reunite with their friends later.
Charles watched with an annoyed expression as they left. Bri sensed he would follow and leave Amadeus alone. Perhaps then, the three of them could discuss things. But the overture was coming to an end and Bri doubted there would be time to discuss anything at all.
Orion gestured again, allowing Bri to sit first. She stared up at him when she was seated and tugged his hand affectionately. He sat beside her and they shared a quick kiss.
“No snogging during the overture,” came Charles’ snide voice.
They met with his mocking gaze as he seated himself to Orion’s left. Bri rolled her eyes at the sailor. At least he was not unappealing like Lawrence. He was more the type Orion should be with, physically. There was always something delicate about Charles’ face, as though he were sad beneath the difficult mask he wore. Bri knew that about two years prior, Charles and Lucy’s daughter Adelaide had gone missing. She guessed the missing child would have something to do with Charles’ melancholy.
Now he was smiling at Orion, genuinely it seemed. “I apologize for Amadeus. He is a family friend and we try to include him in our outings. He enjoys solitude at times. It shows in his response when I speak to him.”
“Perhaps your conversation does not stimulate him,” Orion’s deep voice contrasted Charles’ both in softness and depth.
Charles crooned, “Is someone critical of my conversational skills?”
“Not at all, Arteberry. I find you very engaging, when you choose to be.”
The two men exchanged mocking looks as the music stopped and all went silent. Bri wrapped her arm around her husband’s arm and rested her head on his shoulder.
As the opera opened and the singers demanded attention, all was peaceful. However, Bri was quickly lost to the plotline.
“Muffin,” she whispered. “Did you grab a program?”
“No, love. I’m sorry.”
Charles rolled his eyes, “Orion, your wife’s whisper is louder than her speaking voice!”
“I’m right here, Mr. Arteberry! If you have a complaint, you can direct it toward me.”
“Ah, but you are sitting way over there.”
“Children,” Orion spoke up softly, “Let’s be polite…”
With that Bri and Charles simmered down. However, Bri dwelt on Charles’ little insult. He had always been such a heel, but why could he not be upfront about it with her as he was with everyone else? Why could he not be a heel to her face? It had always been so, even when Bri was Stephen’s wife.
Stephen, your wife laughs like a man.
Bri was fuming when she heard Charles mumble something about a solo a little soprano had did. Something about it being “subtle.” Of course, he was being sarcastic. Bri rolled her eyes and whispered loudly “Orion, you’re right. Your lover doesn’t care for most things!”
“Orion, your wife is ‘whispering’ again,” Charles shot back.
“If you have complaints, I’m right here!” Bri exclaimed.
“She sounds quite angry, my lord! Did you bring her medicine?”
“Medicine! I don’t have medicine, you twat!”
“Brigid!” Orion looked at her.
By now, their voices were raised and someone pulled their curtain aside and thrust their head in. “Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
The three of them shut their mouths. Orion looked at his shoes, Bri folded her arms to pout and Charles grinned at both of them triumphantly.
Bri seethed as she stared at him, wanting to smack the smirk off his face. The thought that he had ever touched her innocent Orion made her stomach turn.
“You are a mite,” she hissed in a whisper. “A nasty, snarky little blood-sucking mite!”
Charles snorted and said nothing. He seemed quite proud to be insulted.
“Brigid, love, please…” Orion begged her for silence.
Surely someone would complain to them again if they kept arguing. But now Bri could not focus on the opera. She lifted her opera-glasses to view the performers better, but her mind was still elsewhere.
When she heard Charles mumble one more thing, she lost her temper.
“You be quiet, you! And don’t touch my husband!”
With that, Orion stood, threw back the side curtain and stepped out. Bri and Charles watched him before Bri felt her heart sink. She dropped the opera glasses and hurried after him down the stairs.
“Muffin!” she yelled. “Muffin! I’m sorry!”
He was not turning back around. He was returning to the booth with Amadeus, escaping Bri and Charles.
When she caught up with him, he was about to duck into the booth. All eyes in the audience were following them as the opera players continued valiantly on with their performance.
“I’m sorry, Rion! Come back.”
“Do not follow me, Brigid.”
“But—“
“You embarrass me. Argue with him but do it without me,” he spoke to her with a sideways glance, cold.
Then he disappeared into the booth with Amadeus. Bri hung her head and progressed back up the steps in shame. Eyes were still on her. When she returned to the booth with Charles, he was no longer grinning. Like her, he seemed shaken by Orion’s departure.
By the time Lucy appeared on the stage to sing her sad song, Bri and Charles had whispered their apologies. At the short intermission, she asked, “How long do you think he will be angry at me?”
“Hell hath no wrath like an insecure earl, my dear. But you know the bugger better than I…though if I remember correctly, he has a big heart.”
Bri had detected a hint of real sadness in Charles when Lucy was singing. Perhaps he was not completely without sentiment.
“I am going to run to the booth and apologize to him…”
“You had better run fast, my lady.”
“How long do I have?”
“Not long. The intermission is as long as your patience.”
She took the jibe in stride and then stood, ready to scurry to Orion to apologize.
© 2011 Luz Briar.

Draining the Humor (3)

3- asking a favor

When Orion Hookwell asked for solitude, Bri knew better than to question him further. Her husband was the type to retreat into himself at times but he always emerged better for it. She had also attempted in the past to pull him out of his introversions but found it more harmful than good.
Knowing Orion was like knowing two people in one. One side of him was seductive, confidant and elegant. He was cold but he had a fine sense of humor and did things even against popular opinion. The other side was sweet, innocent and almost fragile. He was emotional and sensitive, but resilient and impossible to keep down.
When Orion told her that he would need a day or two to think, she nodded in understanding and answered a call their distant neighbor Lucy had left her.
Bri had the carriage transport her to Lucy’s estate early in the evening.
The heiress’ sailor husband was away, so Bri expected to be greeted by the mistress of the house alone. When she found Lucy, she was at the piano with a large man. He was playing as she sang, her high soprano hitting notes like bells.
She spotted Bri first and she trailed off in her song, the operatically trained voice fading out with power. “Amadeus! Darling, my company is here!”
The muscular man turned in the piano chair to survey Bri. He had blue eyes and strong, chiseled features. His hair was a dark blonde and his manner imposing. Bri’s uncontrolled laugh greeted him. She had no idea who he was, and he certainly was not Lucy’s husband.
Lucy embraced her shorter friendly tightly, “How has it been? The marriage I mean…”
Bri was happy to share details with Lucy but she was still unsure how much the woman truly wanted to know. This was the friend who had leant the ‘love potion’ after all, and seemed to know of Orion’s preference. Furthermore, rumors of the Arteberrys were so widespread that they had a reputation as “hidden deviants.” Bri suspected the large, speechless man Amadeus was a lover of Lucy’s.
“It’s such a beautiful day outside, why don’t we have a picnic!” the soprano offered Bri.
Bri’s laugh erupted out of nerves this time. She was not sure if she could keep up with this prettier woman’s energy. When they had their food, they headed beneath a tree where they set up to eat. Lucy was radiant as she had been at the wedding several weeks ago, stealing attention away from the bride every so often. Her red hair was in a bun and her dress was a blue that matched her eyes.
“Mrs. Arteberry,” Bri asked, when she had finished her second roll. “How did you know about Orion’s…unique, eh, condition?”
Lucy finished chewing and then set back a bit, eyes closed in thought.
“My husband told me.”
“Mr. Arteberry knows?” Bri’s eyes widened.
She recalled Charles Arteberry at the wedding. The man who had made advances on both the bride and groom! It had not shocked Bri. Charles was her former brother-in-law, by the viscount Stephen Arteberry. Charles had been just as blatant in his flirtations with Bri in front of his brother as he had been behind his back. Never did Bri recall him mentioning Orion in the past.
“He does know him. But Charles hears many things, Lady Hookwell. He is a sailor after all.”
Bri kept her mouth shut. Charles was the connection between them, after all. Bri’s former brother-in-law and Lucy’s husband. She had trouble deciding who was open to secrets and who was not. Polite society was such a pain.
“He is truly a beautiful person,” was all Bri could say of her husband. “I hope you do not think less of him.”
Lucy’s eyes widened and her voice became shrill, “Think less of him! Why would I? We all love whom we love, dear.”
“So…you are not going to say bad things of him?”
“Why would I, Brigid! He is angelic. Absolutely lovely company!”
Bri was glad to hear her first name from Lucy’s mouth. Perhaps they could drop the formalities now.
Bri sighed in relief. “Oh thank god, Lucy!” she let the tension drain. “I thought you would not understand.”
Lucy rolled her eyes, “We all have our deviances, dear. Or ten, in Charles’ case.”
They laughed quickly at the absent sailor’s expense.
Bri had to ask. “How did Charles find out? Was it the usual gossip in these parts or…”
Lucy bit her lip and looked up into the tree. She was watching a squirrel run about in circles.
“You will have to ask them, I’m afraid. Although I recall…no! I should not tell you that.”
Bri’s eyes were large now. How could she not press for further details?
“The reason I ask…” she looked down at her hands and considered her words, for once. She had the penchant for blurting, but today she would try to behave for Orion’s sake. “I ask because I have noticed distress in my husband. His last man, well, he has passed judgment on Orion for wedding me. He has cut him off. Orion needs…well, he needs something I cannot give him.”
Lucy set her slice of bread down and stopped spreading the marmalade. She became serious, a strange sight for one so full of vibrancy. “He needs a lover?”
Bri nodded. A silence passed in which she laughed. “I figure I should find him one because he is being stubborn. He thinks he can go without it.”
Lucy let out a high laugh and swiped away a tear. “I am trying to imagine Charles saying such a thing,” she explained. “That will be a sign of the end times!”
Bri joined in the laughter. “My muffin is an idealist. He is trying to prove something. Does Charles fancy him? He seemed to at the wedding.”
In fact, she remembered at the reception seeing Charles squeeze Orion’s shoulder once and whisper something in his ear. By Orion’s expression alone, it seemed they had a secret.
Lucy blushed slightly but it cooled and she answered plainly, “Yes. But, Bri, everyone fancies Orion. He is positively adorable.”
Bri agreed, “I know he is. How well do they know each other?”
“They are…acquainted.” Lucy answered. She went back to preparing her snack. “I will ask Charles about it. We should all meet again, perhaps for an outing. You and your husband, and Charles and I. Yes?”
“Here’s to that!” Bri held up her teacup.
© 2011 Luz Briar.

story: Draining the Humor (2)

2- Finding comfort

Three weeks from their wedding, and Orion felt ravaged by his wife. In a good way.
He was tired but he had an excuse to go to bed early and he enjoyed the exhaustion she pushed on him. His only complaint was the tension in his back, seemingly unrelated to the marriage. Brigid Salud had been more than the best choice for a spouse, she was the object of Orion’s deepest affections.
That is why he was so puzzled at the pain in his back. He called on the local doctor for advice and was met instead with some scathing remarks.
“Perhaps you should take a break in the weeks following your honeymoon.”
“A break from what exactly, doctor?” Orion asked, seated in his arm chair. His back was bothering him again. “I don’t do heavy lifting of any sort.”
“From heavy lifting?” the doctor grunted. “Yes, a break from heavy lifting.”
Orion narrowed his eyes at the man. He could not comprehend the amount of disdain people often channeled in his direction. He had never wronged any of the people of Constance, and yet his melodramatic teen years haunted him still.
Sodomy. Transvestite. How I loathe the words.
“For your records, doctor,” Orion spoke up, protecting himself with a layer of coldness. “I have not been heavy lifting and nor have I lifted anything heavy in a while. Assumptions are the twin of ignorance.”
Nor did Orion see how ‘heavy lifting,’ as the doctor called it, would have to do with his back.
“What is wrong with my back, doctor?”
“Tension then,” the older man spoke quickly. “It is tension. It is best to relax for a while. Perhaps you have overstressed yourself.”
“I have been on honeymoon for the past two weeks. What would I be stressed about?”
“That is for you to answer,” the doctor’s tone dropped again, condescending.
“I believe then, I must nip it in the bud and find out the cause.”
“That would be best.”
“Very well.”
“Good.”
Orion hit a bell on the desk, causing the doctor to jump.
His apathy towards medical men sometimes swayed into disgust and right now he did not wish to see the man. The butler appeared at the office door and Orion told him, “Please show the good doctor out.”
He did not even wish to escort the man out. He took a seat back at his desk as he recovered from the doctor’s accusations. He returned to his paperwork but was unable to follow his own strain of thought. As he set the quill back to paper, Bri’s laugh made him jump.
“The doctor was useless, wasn’t he?” she laughed.
He collected himself. “Quite useless. Most of them are…”
“Oh dear. What did he say?” she leaned over him, her face next to his.
“Essentially he accused me of being unfaithful to you and of being a sinful, dirty sodomite.”
“Oh,” she frowned. “Darling, there’s nothing sinful and dirty about you.”
He put his face in his hands and allowed himself to sigh loudly. He felt his wife’s hand in his hair and it calmed him a bit. “I have kept my vow.”
“I know, darling. But there is no need to. I know you love me. I have my own theories about your tension.”
“Enlighten me,” he told her.
To most, it would have sounded cold and sarcastic. But Bri knew Orion and his odd ways of communicating. He was sincere when he asked her opinion.
“You are trying far too hard to prove yourself to be something you are not.”
He thought this over. The shadow of his late father loomed over him daily. The “mad earl,” the deviant and the lunatic. His own youth added to the weight of what it seemed he must disprove. He knew that Bri was making a valid point.
“In any case, Brigid,” he cleared his throat. “Even if I had not made the vow, Lawrence has moved to London and—“
“Bloody Lawrence!” Bri spat.
Her unconscious laugh exploded and she removed the warmth of her body from him. She began to pace.
“Really, Rion! Lawrence! He is bloody ugly and unpleasant!”
Orion righted himself and watched her calmly. He felt the serpent of indignation uncoiling in his stomach, but for now he was quiet. He would allow her to ramble and rant about his former lover.
“You could have any man you want, Orion! And you choose Lawrence! The bugger is worse than me! His teeth try to escape his face! He is mean-spirited and ugly. He is a donkey!”
“Brigid—“
“A Donkey, Orion! A donkey!”
“That’s quite enough!” he stood and pushed the desk chair in.
He was remaining quiet by an act of will. This was a fresh wound and he did not feel up to inspecting it right this moment.
Bri hung her head, her large eyes full of guilt. “I’m sorry…I just don’t like him. He talks to you as if you are an idiot. And you could have any man you want.”
He did not want to dwell on it.
You have chosen the SAFE path, is what Lawrence had told Orion when he asked his lover, in person, to attend the wedding. Lawrence had sneered at him and cut off all contact.
Orion rushed to the privacy of his own bedchamber and locked the door. Bri knew better than to follow right away. He wanted the silence.
“The safe path…” he breathed, leaned against the door. “Sodomite. Safe path.”
The dualities struck him like dissonance on a harpsichord. Either he was a filthy degenerate or he was the coward.
**
An hour passed and Orion felt ready to speak to others again. His momentary melancholy usually lasted and hour or so, sometimes a day, and on bad times up to weeks.
Today, he was fortunate.
He immerged outside for fresh air and found Bri seated at the pond, feeding the swans. Her favorite drake, Muffin, was seated beside her like a loyal dog. His mate Crumpet was waddling about with her gaggle of babies. One of them Bri had in her lap.
When she noticed Orion, her brow was furrowed, “His wing is hurt, Orion. Look at it. It is crooked.”
The funny-looking baby animal stared up at Orion. He knelt down beside his wife. “Mini Muffin…perhaps he needs a cast. We have books in the library about animal care. I have heard their wings can heal.”
“It looks deformed.”
Muffin nipped at Bri’s ear, as if grateful. Orion stroked the birds head softly. “Do not fret, Bri. We will make him comfortable…”
(A/N: Comment/Response PLEASE. i have no way of thanking you if you remain anonymous!)
©2011 Luz Briar.

short story: Draining the Humor (1)

1- Trying for an heir

Brigid shed her second wedding gown more eagerly.
The first husband, a stuffy viscount, had been comely enough, but he had the boorish habit of snoring after consummation. Not to mention, all the passion of a rooster.
But Bri was assured that her second husband, the 3^rd Earl of Constance, would be different. The young earl had energy and passion to spare, much as he tried to hide both.
“Are you ready to bugger, Muffin?” she called from behind the changing screen. She checked her reflection, a plain woman made lovely by her white undergarments. She was no great beauty, but her body was attractive and her eyes large and doe-like.
The ceremony had been as strange as they were, and afterwards their family friends the Arteberrys had pulled Brigid aside. Lucinda Arteberry had given Bri a “love potion,” just in case he does not rise to the occasion. Bri had thanked her friend but told her she doubted they would need the potion.
“I prefer something less vulgar, darling,” Orion’s voice called to her. “Bugger is a rough word.”
“Very well. Are you ready to make love?” Bri laughed, slipping off her skirt.
When she appeared before him in her undergarments, Orion’s eyes widened. She took a seat beside him on the bed and they linked hands.
“You look wonderful, Bri. Better than in the gown,” Orion told her, his soft baritone whispering.
“Why don’t you undress for me too, Muffin?” she asked, kissing him chastely. “Please.”
He looked down, green eyes a bit nervous but he undressed with no hesitation. They were both down to their underwear and Bri sat on his lap now, grabbing a hand and guiding it to her half-exposed breasts. For a moment, Orion seemed transfixed, as he massaged them. Bri was loosening her own corset, too eager to stay dressed. Suddenly, Orion was helping her unlace with ease.
“Hm, have you had practice with this?” she teased him.
“On my own corset,” he stopped himself.
Bri’s laugh bubbled up. She knew of Orion’s ‘Reanna’ disguise and thought it was very amusing. She also thought her husband made a fair lady. He was thin but slightly muscled, with light hair and moss green eyes. His smile was gorgeous and many women envied Bri passionately.
Bri turned around now that her breasts were exposed, and she ran a hand through Orion’s hair before she kissed him with some force. He gave in and returned the kiss with vigor. They were aiming for an heir, so Bri would do everything in her power to rouse her husband. She was reaching the end of her childbearing years, after all. They needed to act quickly.
**
They both lay breathless in bed afterwards, kissing and clinging to one another.
“Brigid,” Orion panted. “I want to live up to m wedding vows…I want you to know this.”
“Muffin, I know you love me. There’s no need to—“
“No, darling. The last thing you need is a repeat of your last marriage—“
“I think a repeat would be hard to reproduce. You would not be able to divorce me for a—“
“Please, Brigid,” he grabbed her hand. “Believe me. I will lay with no other but you.”
“Lovey-Muffin—“
Orion pulled Bri to him. She was instantly lulling off in his strong, gentle embrace.
“Because I prefer gentlemen you think I cannot keep my vow…” he whispered with a tinge of sadness.
“I doubt that you should keep that particular vow, Muffin…”
Bri felt that they may have succeeded tonight, so she let the topic float away as she dozed in her husband’s arms.
She would ask him why exactly he would wish to stay faithful when his wife insisted it was not necessary. He was virtuous, she knew. But he had a lover up until recently and she had not minded sharing him in that way, knowing that emotionally he was all hers.
But at times she wondered what was spinning through his head.
(A/N: Leave feedback/responses/comments pretty please! Brand new story here.)
© 2011 Luz Briar. All Characters, Plotlines and Settings belong to the author!  Alright, I suppose I don’t own England or the Victorian era, but you know what I mean. Steal and I will come after you.

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 (5)

(PLEASE click a response/comment if you read!)
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)

*(Click a response/comment if you read please. It encourages me to share more!)*
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)

(click response/comment if you read please! it encourages me to share!)
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.

story: The Earl Swan (part 1)

(Bri & Orion. By me. Yes I know I draw like Dr. Seuss…)
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(part 1 of 6)
The Earl Swan
England, 1850
1
The librarian fastened the lace of her boots and then grabbed her load of books from the ground. Desdemona Parade’s library was so vast and so quiet the whip of the laces and crinkling of pages echoed. It never ceased to give the librarian Brigid the spooks. On more than one occasion she had screamed to find someone behind her, usually the sulky heiress Desdemona herself.
“Ms Bri,” came a lush voice.
This time it was not Desdemona. Bri jumped and her nervous tick--a petulant, uncontrolled laugh--bubbled up. It was such a deep, manly laugh, and she such a petite woman, that it never ceased to give people a start.
When she met Lord Hookwell’s green eyes her face reddened and she apologized for dropping her books.
“My lord, you move like a shadow.”
“I’m sorry, Ms Salud. I was only saying hello,” he gave his wide smile. “I did not mean to startle you.”
“My lord—“ the laugh “-- I can never quite come to grips with the gigantic SIZE of this library. For a woman who never reads, really…” she caught herself insulting Des, Orion’s fiancé, and bowed her head, “I mean, it is HUGE, you must admit.”
Bri had clutched her bundle of books to her bosom. Then, she loosened her grip, realizing that the books bunched her large breasts up and she did not need to distract the poor earl.
“What is your business in the library, sir?” she teased.
“The librarian is good at conversation,” he complimented playfully “and Des is boring me with her talk of…well, you know the way she gets.”
Bri’s laugh popped up again. “Pardon, I can’t seem--” again “to get the laugh under control today.”
Orion laughed, his face suddenly brightened. He was a slender figure, a bit taller than average and Bri always had to stare up at him, due to his tallness and her shortness. He had light blonde hair and a gaunt face which often gave him a melancholic look. But best of all was his toothy smile. He had the nicest teeth Bri had ever seen on a man.
“You have a unique voice, Ms. Salud. I’m sure you’ve been told that before.”
He was accustomed to her laugh by now, and did not mock her for it.
She snapped out of her daze, reminding herself that Orion was almost a decade her junior and her employer’s fiancé. It was something Bri had to remind herself often, for she was a lusty woman at heart.
“Yes, yes,” she smirked. “My voice. Thank you, I suppose. It is a melting pot from India to England, I’m afraid…”
Bri was told often that her accent was strange. What with being an English waif born in India, raised by both natives and Britons.
“No, it is the voice itself I would say,” Orion mused, bending down to collect a book that Bri had overlooked on the floor. “But sadly I must return to Desdemona and the ‘planning.’ Until later--” he took her hand and squeezed it. “Farewell.”
Bri felt her insides cool as her cheeks flushed, and then the earl was gone, like a swift white swan lost in the bright sunlight.
She cursed herself privately. She had already suffered much drama with her ex-husband, an unfaithful viscount who ventured all the way to Parliament to divorce Bri. And what for? Because she refused to turn a blind eye on his affairs. Of course, he chalked it up to her being “frigid.” But nothing could be further from the truth, as evidenced by the problem she had now.
Lusting after an engaged earl…she reflected, climbing a ladder to shelve a book. That would be my luck…
“Bri, I want your opinion on something,” Desdemona summoned the librarian-assistant, who was truly her ladies’ maid at the end of the day. She pointed a long, manicured fingernail to the window, a landscape of rolling green hills. “Elephants…”
The woman let the statement linger with much importance. Bri cocked an eyebrow.
“my lady…they never forget?” Bri tried to make sense of the heiress’ statement.
“Haha. No. what do you think of elephants instead of horses for the wedding? Would Lord Hookwell be too shy about it?”
“Far too modest,” and reasonable, Bri managed not to add.
“Ah, he has no imagination,” Des proclaimed in an exaggeration.
“I would beg to differ,” Bri offered, pouring the lady’s tea. “Your fiancé is very artistic.”
“Oh,” she snapped suddenly. “that reminds me.”
No topic could stay on anyone else for very long. Des needed time to shine, after all.
Much to Bri’s dread, Des grabbed for her violin in the corner and abused its strings too quickly to make any sort of music. Bri refrained from covering her ears, though the effect of the sound was very much like a cat falling out of a window repeatedly.
“Did you recognize the piece?”
Piece of Shit, in D-minor.
“Yes…uh, no.”
“Mozart. The Magic Flute,” Des raised an eyebrow proudly, not mentioning what part of the opera she had been ‘playing.’
“I’m sorry, Ms. I missed it.”
Des’ dark eyebrows dropped and she attacked the violin again in another melodramatic display, her face held stoic purposefully to appear alluring. At times, Bri wanted to jump out of the window with the imaginary cat.
The heiress Desdemona Parade was a beautiful woman, with pale skin and long dark hair. But there were many things, in Bri’s opinion, that ruined the would-be beauty. Des wore a vial of “blood” as a necklace, she professed to know spirits and be a practitioner of witchcraft. She scarcely did smile except in a contrived way and what she liked was selective and of no real opinion except what it contradicted. She thought herself a master musician after three years of dabbling in violin along with other rich young nobles. She was at home in the social circle of young rebellious artists with nothing to stand up against.
Worst of all, Des considered Bri one of her closest friends for the ironic reason that Bri would not lie. She amused Des, it seemed. Bri was a woman who could not be bothered with pretensions and flattery. Her lack of social graces-- that distinct tick of hers-- her mousy looks—she had buckteeth, large brown eyes and brunette hair -- and the famous divorce from a viscount; all of these factors added up to Bri’s being gutted of any false hopes for social status. Sometimes Bri felt like a “deviant” accessory for her friend-employer, like a sort of slave-made handbag made from the skin of baby animals.
“I’ve thought of inviting Jaun to the wedding,” Des spoke, probably cued by the glazed-over look in Bri’s eye.
“Will Orion--eh, Lord Hookwell, be bothered with that, miss? That seems a tad…absurd…”
Juan was one of Desdemona’s many lovers. Bri had met the man and found him as pretentious as the heiress herself.
“My fiancé doesn’t know so he has no reason to care,” she sighed, “Juan is sad since…we were intimate…he says, frankly, no other woman compares.”
Bri was standing behind Des, so she was able to roll her eyes freely. More secrets from Orion?
“What if he interrupts the wedding?” Bri asked, not masking her bitterness. “He will if he loves you and wants you.”
Usually her sarcasm flew over the heiress’ head, so she did not worry about masking it.
Des pasted on a smile and perked up. Again, she stroked the poor violin and continued to play. “Do you think Orion will be angry if I tell him?”
Bri unleashed the truth, all the while Des kept silent in an attempt to be mysterious.
“Ms, frankly I worry his heart will break. It is the third time this has happened with three different men. Three is excessive.”
“He wants to fester in his pants,” Des breathed.
Bri held her breath. Again, Des was trying to be serpentine and falling short. It was downright farcical.
“Do you mean, Ms. Parade, that he will not perform in the bedroom? I don’t think you are using the word fester correctly.”
“Fester means to rot. What do you think I should do, Ms. Bri?”
Bri continued but all the while Des was sulking while ‘playing’ the violin. Bri, accustomed to being tuned out whenever critique arose, began to toss out nonsense to see if the woman would notice.
“If you want a turkey for a house pet, you should fill its litter box with wood shavings. It is a dumb bird and will try to eat sand or rocks you put in a box. Also, it has been known to trip.”
“Interesting,” Des stated, eyes closed. “He’s a sodomite, you know?”
Bri’s jaw dropped. She knew that Des had been implying this for a long time now. But to hear her actually say it sent Bri off the hinge.
“Ms Parade, your husband might be refusing you because you aren’t properly wed yet and he wants to avoid a pregnancy. Furthermore, not every man who rejects you is a sodomite. Perhaps you should think before you assume things.”
“Are you finished?” Des asked, looking up from her violin, still playing.
Bri nearly wished the duchess would fire her on the spot. Alas, she kept attacking the violin and now Bri had to quit the room, lest she yell at her employer more.
She knew the earl well from having spoken so often to him, both in letters and in the library. Their friendship was not so well-known to Desdemona but that was just as well. If the duchess knew of their friendship, surely jealousy would be ignited.
But never did Bri have the courage to ask Lord Hookwell, the 3^rd Earl of Constance, whether or not the nasty rumors were true. There were some who said he fancied gentlemen over ladies, but Bri shrugged that off as foolish chatter. The lord was engaged to a woman, after all.
But now, Desdemona’s using this as an excuse for infidelity had pushed Bri to the limit. She must speak to the earl.
© Luz Briar 2011. All Rights Reserved.