Aubreigne

by Sandra R Neeley

  Aubreigne watched as her daughter confidently approached her fiance’. She’d gathered her dark hair up in a loose twist at the crown of her head, allowing any wisps that chose to escape to fall free. She’d curled her hair, which meant even the wisps that framed her face fell in twists and turns to softly frame her loveliness. Her cheeks were slightly rouged and her lips were as well. Her gown consisted of two pieces. She wore an ivory lace gown with a short train of only about a foot and a half behind it. It was high necked as was the most current fashion of the day, and Aubreigne had given Deaumanique a cameo that was one of the few things she had that had been passed down through her family to wear at the hollow of her throat. It perfectly accented the lace that gently caressed Deaumanique’s neck, just barely kissing her chin and the back of her head as silky strands of black hair escaped her twist of hair and spilled, curling down to fall over the lace. But beneath that, since lace was very easily seen through, she wore a sleeveless, strapless, silk ivory underdress that hugged her figure and flared at the knees, held stiffly out from her lower legs by a petticoat beneath. The lace was made to follow the line of the under dress, and flared at her knees and below, just as the silk did. Her train consisted of only the silk overlay that fell naturally to a trail to follow along behind her. The lace overlay gave the illusion that both dresses were one. In addition to a high neck, it had long sleeves with pearl buttons at the wrists, and puffed shoulders that worked to accentuate her delicate build. It was stunningly beautiful, and took more than a year to create.

  As Murder and Deaumanique paused at the beginning of the aisle, every single person in attendance turned and looked at Deaumanique. Her eyes were wide, her grip on Murder’s arm tightened, and she looked from one face to another before Shane stepped toward her from the arch where he waited at the end of the aisle, causing her attention to be shifted to him. The moment her eyes met his, he smiled at her and lifted a hand to beckon her toward him. That was all she needed. Her grip relaxed and she kept her gaze locked with his as Murder walked her down the aisle.

  As they got closer, Shane stepped back into place, waiting for her to take her place beside him. When they arrived, Lore began the process of a ceremony he’d seen performed literally several hundred thousand times, but had never officiated. “Who gives this woman in matrimony this day?” he asked.

  “Myself, on behalf of her mother,” Murder answered.

  “Excellent. Now, before we begin, is there any reason we should not marry these two?” he asked, looking out over the inhabitants of Whispers gathered to witness the wedding. That’s when he noticed several he’d not expected to see standing just outside the tree line, watching from the same path that Aubreigne and Deaumanique had just arrived by. Lore inclined his head to them, and gestured to the chairs that were not being used at the back of the grouping of seats. Enthrall looked over his shoulder to see who Lore gestured to and realized that literally all of the rest of the inhabitants, those he’d invited, yet not expected to attend, had indeed attended.

  Enthrall lifted a finger toward Lore, signaling him to wait for just a moment. He stood, and stepped out to the side of the rows of chairs to be sure that he could be seen, then he smiled, bowed and gestured to the chairs.

  Brannaugh returned the bow, and slowly began his way to the seats that Enthrall had indicated. Esma skipped happily at his side. Dima and Maura walked beside one another, and several others that were unknown in general hurried to keep up with Brannaugh. Once they began to take their seats, and Enthrall returned to his, Lore continued with the ceremony. Ten minutes later all the vows had been taken, the prayers that Lore had felt the need to include had been prayed, and he introduced them as Mr. and Mrs. Shane Larocque.

  Everyone cheered and stood to congratulate the happy couple as they rushed back up the aisle together to cheers and applause.

  Brannaugh and his friends hung back as the families were the first to reach the couple, then all the rest of the guests took their turns to share their excitement of the day.

  “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a cake to claim,” Lore said, gathering his mists and preparing to leave them momentarily.

  “Biigg cake!” Carnage insisted.

  As Deaumanique and Shane held onto one another’s hands, and chatted with everyone who was as excited about their union as they were, Rowan, Lucitari, and Destroy went to Destroy’s home and began to bring out dish after dish of food. They lined them up on the table nearest his house and placed large serving spoons in front of every dish. Felicity, Carolena, and Phrygia began to do the same at Enthrall’s home and brought out just as many dishes of food to place on another table beside the first.

  Enthrall walked over to Brannaugh. He made eye contact with each of those inhabitants that arrived with Brannaugh in answer to his invitation, and offered a smile. He held out his hand for Brannaugh to shake. “Welcome,” he said. “You are Brannaugh, correct?”

  “I am,” Brannaugh confirmed, holding his head high, still prepared for anything, though he truly hoped the invitation was valid.

  “We are very happy you’ve accepted our invitation. Relax, eat, you just may make some new friends,” Enthrall said.

  “Thank you,” Brannaugh answered, his lavender eyes flicking quickly around to keep up with the locations of all the males who wandered, visiting with friends.

  “There is no need for caution. This is a happy day. There is no trickery about. I will not tolerate it,” Enthrall said.

  Brannaugh gave a sharp nod.

  “I have to help with the food and drink in my home. I’ll be back shortly. Mingle, introduce yourselves,” Enthrall said. “Or I can if you prefer when I return.”

  Enthrall hurried to his home to collect the pitchers of tea and bottles of wine that he’d wanted for the occasion and brought them all out and placed them appropriately along with plenty of cool water.

  Brannaugh watched a gentle female, slender and slight with a mane of wild, blonde curls cascading over her shoulders and down her back almost to waist length. She watched him as she approached his group.

  “Hello. I’m Evangeline. Welcome,” she said, hoping the calming nature she’d always had was still prevalent enough to help these people who were obviously on edge relax enough to enjoy themselves and become part of the community.

  Brannaugh canted his head to the side, trying to determine exactly what she was. “You are human, yet… there is something more,” he said, not quite able to identify it.

  Evangeline smiled at him. Her smile bright and innocent. “I was an Angel once. But I love Lore, and love always trumps whatever the other option is, don’t you think? When I mated him, I had to give up my immortality, but he restored it with his,” she said, lifting her hand to offer to him, with her explanation as though it was everyday information.

  Brannaugh’s eyebrow lifted and he looked down at her hand held aloft between them. Gently he took her hand in his and bowed over it, refraining from kissing her hand, he did not want Lore upset with him. “I am Brannaugh,” he said, marveling at the calm that overtook him when he touched Evangeline’s hand. “These are my friends — Esma, Dima, Maura…” he went on introducing the dozen or so inhabitants that had arrived with him, as each smiled at her or offered her a nod.

  “Are there more?” she asked.

  “There are. They wished to remain hidden,” Brannaugh admitted, at once irritated with himself that he’d give that information so willingly.

  “Perhaps they’ll be more trusting when they see that we have such a wonderful time here. No one should be alone ever,” she said, and a momentary cloud of sadness crossed her eyes before she snapped back to attention. “Well, come along, let’s get our plates!” she said, leading Brannaugh and his group of friends toward the buffet that sat closer to Destroy’s home so they could get in line and be fed.

  Chapter 6

  Once all the food was placed on the buffet tables, along with the plates to be used by the guests, Carnage and Destroy lifted the table
offering silverware, glasses and drinks and moved it to the side so that it wouldn’t impede the line for food. It was then that it became apparent that the only table left was fully decorated with elaborate flowers and ribbons, meant for the wedding cake, and was still standing empty other than the decorations.

  Just as Destroy was preparing to make a remark about it, Lore’s mists began to swirl. He stood back and watched as Lore came into view, along with a three tier wedding cake, platters of eclairs and French pastries, and a huge silver punch bowl.

  “I’m back!” he announced.

  “Oh my goodness! It’s beautiful!” Deaumanique exclaimed.

  “Come see, Deaumanique. I had it made especially for you. It’s almond cake with lemon curd between the layers. The pastries are an array that I observed when I arrived to collect the cake. And this? This, my dear, is a confection that I found I have an affinity for — it is iced cream!”

  Deaumanique hurried to Lore’s side and was busily exclaiming over all the delicacies he’d gifted to her wedding celebration.

  Destroy shook his head and walked over to the cake table to look at all the delicate desserts that had arrived along with Lore when he materialized. “I have to say, it’s quite impressive,” Destroy said, patting Lore on the back.

  “I thought so,” Lore said, reaching for a spoon and scooping a taste of the vanilla iced cream from the large punch bowl he held in his arms.

  “What did you do? Rob a baker?” Destroy asked.

  Slowly Lore’s grin grew until it was a full, sinister smile. “Not exactly. He was hired to make the cake, the others just caught my fancy when I arrived. I took it all, and I took the iced cream, too. Though I have to return the bowl, it belonged to his wife’s mother, or so she screamed at him as I misted away with all my bounty in tow.”

  “Surely you paid him?” Destroy asked.

  “Oh, I paid. I paid a great deal. And when we finish with the sweets he so graciously offered to let me have when I materialized behind him to collect the cake he made for me, I’ll return the bowl, and the platter they all sat upon, and I’ll pay him more,” Lore said, taking another bite of iced cream. “I do not see any problem with it. Have you tried this confection?” Lore asked, holding out the spoon to Destroy.

  Destroy shook his head and took the spoon from Lore. He tasted the rich, cold, sweet cream on the spoon and his eyes widened. He reached toward the bowl to scoop up more and Lore tilted the bowl away from him. “Just a bit. It’s meant for everyone!” Lore said. Then his gaze found Brannaugh in the crowd waiting for their turn to serve their plates as Evangeline talked away at his side. He handed the bowl to Destroy and walked off in the direction of his mate. “I must join Evangeline,” Lore said, completely having forgotten about the iced cream.

  “’Stoy!” Carnage said, walking over to him.

  “What?” Destroy asked, eating another spoonful of iced cream.

  Carnage jutted his chin in the direction of the huge bowl Destroy held, as he swiped his finger through the frosting at the back base of the cake, then sucked his finger clean.

  “It is iced cream, according to Lore. And it’s mine,” Destroy answered.

  “Nooo. Allll,” Carnage said, grabbing a spoon and dipping it into the bowl. Carnage’s eyes rounded. “Mine,” Carnage announced.

  “It’s for everyone!” Carolena said, approaching them.

  “Have you tasted this?” Destroy asked.

  “I have. Go put it in your icebox to keep it cold until we are ready for the cake. Stop eating it so that everyone can have a small serving,” Carolena instructed.

  “It won’t fit,” Destroy said, thinking that a good reason to go ahead and eat it now.

  “Then put it in several smaller bowls.”

  Destroy wrinkled up his forehead and looked at Carnage. “She’s not any fun anymore.”

  Carnage chuckled.

  “And you stop scraping the frosting off the cake!” Carolena said to Carnage.

  “No ‘Arnge! Boon!” Carnage objected, blaming it on Boon who wasn’t even nearby.

  “Boon did not stick his finger in the cake. You did. If Boon had done it, it would have been everywhere,” Carolena said with her hands on her hips.

  “I’m going to put the iced cream in the icebox,” Destroy said, walking away.

  “Don’t eat it!” Carolena called out. Then she looked back at her mate. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”

  “Cake,” Carnage said.

  “We will have plenty of cake, after the bride and groom cut it. But we will eat regular food first.”

  Carnage looked at his mate, then finally nodded his agreement. When she turned, his hand in hers to lead him to the line to get food, he reached out with his other hand and grabbed up an eclaire. Quickly before she could turn around and catch him, he shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chewing appreciatively. He smiled as he got in line behind Carolena who was behind Dima.

  Dima turned around to look at him.

  Carnage waved while he chewed.

  Dima had watched the exchange between the Gargoyles and the small, human female. He was impressed with the fact that they both bowed to her wishes. He found that he liked her, and he liked the Gargoyles, too. He’d seen them before; in fact, he’d been at the last party that Lore had organized, but that had been years ago. But he was basically a solitary male, so he’d not made any effort to interact with them since. Dima smiled at Carnage, displaying fangs with his smile.

  Carnage swallowed his eclaire and smiled at Dima, his own fangs on display, and a new friendship was born.

  ~~~

  A couple of hours later, Gaston broke out his violin, and couples very, very quickly began getting to their feet to dance. It wasn’t long before Seth walked over to the group of newcomers and introduced himself. “Hello. I’m Seth.”

  Brannaugh nodded in acknowledgment of Seth introducing himself.

  “I wish to cause no offense if this is out of line, but, I was wondering if you’d like to dance. That is, if you’re not mated,” he hurriedly added.

  Esma’s face lit up. “Me?” she asked, her high-pitched voice making Seth smile.

  “Yes. I didn’t know if any of you,” he said, looking at the males before looking back at Esma, “were mated.”

  “I’m not!” Esma said, getting to her feet. “Yes!” she said.

  Seth smiled and reached for her hand.

  Esma placed her hand in his and let him escort her to the area everyone was dancing in. They were into their second dance before Seth spoke again. “I’ve thought I saw you a time or two, but then just as quickly you’d be gone. I thought I was seeing things,” he confessed.

  “Brannaugh and Orin think it’s best if we keep to ourselves. But I get so lonely, there’s no one there to talk to. And I come further in than they know just to watch everyone. I like seeing the families,” she admitted.

  “So, I did see you,” he said, spinning her out before pulling her into his arms again to continue the dance.

  “You did,” Esma said.

  “You should say hello next time you’re around here,” Seth said.

  “I will,” she said, smiling up at him as he twirled her again.

  They danced a while longer before Gaston played a slow song. As Seth pulled Esma in for the dance, her eyes grew wide. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.

  Esma shook her head. “I’ve never danced like this,” she admitted.

  “Then we’ll learn together,” he answered.

  Simon and Serafina watched as Seth danced dance after dance with the orange haired girl. They didn’t notice that someone had walked over to them until Anton finally spoke. “Excuse me, Mr. Simon,” he said.

  Simon turned his attention to Anton. “How are you, Anton?” Simon asked.

  “I’m good, sir. I was wondering if I could dance with Serena. If she’d be willing,” he asked.

  Simon looked over at Serena who looked hopefully at her father. Simon was extremely protec
tive, and she knew the chances of her dancing with someone were slim to none.

  “Let her dance, Simon. She’s older than I was when we married, and we’re right here watching,” Serafina encouraged.

  Simon looked from his daughter to Anton. “Will you respect her when you dance with her? Keep a respectable distance between yourselves?” Simon asked.

  “I will, sir. Always have respected her, sir,” Anton answered at once.

  “Alright, then. Don’t forget, I’m right here watching,” Simon added. Then he looked at Serena. “Go on, then. You can dance.”

  Serena jumped to her feet and took Anton’s hand as they walked over to dance near where Anton’s father played his violin.

  As they fell into step, Anton was careful to keep a suitable distance between them.

  “I’m sorry my father is so difficult,” Serena said, following the box step that Anton performed perfectly.

  “Oh, it’s not nothing. He don’t bother me none, no. If my daughter was as pretty as you, I’d be protective, too,” Anton said.

  Serena’s mouth fell open and she smiled at Anton. No one had ever called her pretty except her mother and her father. “You think I’m pretty?” she asked.

  Anton shook his head. “No. I don’t think you’re pretty. I know,” Anton said, looking into her eyes.

  Serena looked at his dark, wavy hair, his dark brown eyes and long lashes. His tanned skin from years of working on the water, and when he flashed her another smile, his teeth were all straight and pristinely white. She could feel the strength in his hands on her waist as he held her gently, and felt the muscles in his arms and shoulders as she placed her hands on him while they danced.

  “I like the way you look, too. You’re very handsome,” Serena admitted, quickly lowering her lashes and looking away.