The Black Lotus (Night Flower)

by Claire Warner

  “Rachel can you tell the grooms to have my buggy made ready, I would like to take a drive.” Her maid nodded and left the room, leaving Melissa to sort through her outdoor clothes. A ride across the estate was permitted and as long as she took a chaperone she could travel further. The idea strengthened further as she reasoned it through. Rachel would accompany her to Justin’s house as a chaperone. Once there she could confront the man. Rachel would not presume to question her orders once they had left the house and she could be relied upon to keep silent if asked. It was a perfect arrangement.

  “You’re buggy’s ready Miss…” Rachel bobbed a curtsey as she entered the room.

  “Good.” Melissa reached forward and picked up a pair of kid leather gloves before heading towards the door. “Fetch your outdoor clothing.” She said as she walked past Rachel and out onto the upper landing. “You’re coming with me.”

  In no time at all, the pair were loaded onto the small two wheeled buggy. Designed for a woman to handle and drawn by a pair of placid horses, the small two-seater rolled easily across the landscape. Melissa handled the reins easily, feeling the wind whip the stray wisps of hair about her face.

  “Now Rachel, I am going to visit a neighbour.” Melissa announced when they were out of range of the house. Rachel said nothing, yet a curious gleam entered her eyes as her mistress steered the horses away from the gravelled drive and across the rolling lawns.

  “I do not wish Jane or my parents to know about this.” Melissa risked a look to her side and Rachel’s face. “Do you understand?”

  “Where are we going Miss?”

  “To Lord Lestrade’s.” Melissa answered tersely as they bounced over the terrain towards the small thoroughfare that marked the boundary of lands. “You are to be my chaperone but I do not want people to know that I came here.”

  “Miss I..” The young maid stammered. “I can’t lie to your father.”

  “I’m not asking you to lie.” Melissa responded as they entered the tangled woodland and moved through at a steady pace. “I’m asking you to not tell him, there’s a difference.”

  “But what if he asks?”

  “He shouldn’t.” Melissa drew the buggy to a halt and turned in her seat to face the maid. “But I don’t want to explain my visit to them. If you manage this successfully then there is every chance that you will come with me when I marry.” Rachel’s eyes widened.

  “Really?” Hope tinged her words as she looked at her mistress. It was the best position that Rachel could have hoped for, personal maid to a member of quality.

  “Yes, but I want to know I can trust you.” Melissa looked closely at her. “Can I trust you?”

  Rachel stared at the horses before them, desire for a new position warring with her duty to Melissa’s parents in her face. After several long moments, she turned to her mistress and replied in a soft, almost inaudible voice. “Yes Miss. You can count on me.”

  Melissa smiled in relief and clucked at the horses, heading through the woodland with trepidation. The woodland separating the estates was tangled and dense, a bridal path barely visible in the tangled undergrowth. Despite the brightness of the day it was dark within the confines of the forest. As the track grew rougher and more indistinct, doubts began to crowd within Melissa’s mind. What was she doing risking her reputation like this? It was guaranteed to ruin her if it became known that she visited Lestrade’s home with only a maid for company. Even though she could swear Rachel to secrecy, what of all the staff in Lestrade’s retinue? They could gossip and her father would hear. The horses slowed down to a slow walk, carefully picking their way through the rough track. The forest grew darker, wilder and a trickle of fear flowed down her spine. The forest was a perfect spot for brigands and she had failed to bring a pistol with her. She sat stiffly in the buggy, directing the horses mechanically as she struggled to suppress the fears that threatened to stifle her. Beside her on the buggy, Rachel stirred nervously, the darkness of the woodland affecting her also.

  “Miss?” After several minutes tense silence, Rachel spoke into the heavy air.

  “Yes Rachel.”

  “I think there’s someone watching us.” The girl’s blue gaze was fearful as she stared about her.

  “Where?” With difficulty, Melissa managed to make her voice sound level. It was one thing to be scared, it was another to admit it before the servants.

  “I think they’re in the bushes to the right.” Rachel shrank back against the hard seat of the buggy and began to nibble nervously on her fingernails. Melissa reined in the horses and stopped. “Miss?” Startled, the maid glanced up as her mistress swung down from the buggy, wielding the large whip she had been driving the horses with.

  “It’s alright.” With a confidence she did not feel, Melissa strode to the bushes indicated and pushed them aside. The greenery rustled as she fanned open the branches revealing the empty interior. At the sight, a sigh of relief escaped her lips and she mentally berating herself for being overly nervous. “There’s nothing here Rachel.” Melissa drew away from the bush and headed back to the buggy. “You’re scaring yourself.” Her maid glanced into the still moving bushes and sighed.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Melissa replied with some emphasis as she hoisted herself back on the buggy and flicked the tip of the whip over the backs of the two horses. Shaking on the rough ground, the buggy moved off. As the two women disappeared from view, a figure stepped out from behind a large oak, his odd eyes watching as the buggy crested the next rise and went out of sight.

  The trees thinned and the buggy left the woodland, Melissa and her maid sighing with relief as they rolled free of the last trees and stopped on a small hill overlooking the house below. Once it had been a castle, yet now it was ruined and heavily damaged by fire. The east wing however showed evidence of recent repair and appeared to be more liveable than the rest of the building. A trail of smoke drifted lazily from the only intact chimney in the roof.

  “Are you sure Miss?” Rachel stared down at the devastated castle with obvious consternation. The state of the building did little to alleviate her fears about her mistress’s intentions.

  “Quite sure.” Melissa directed the horses down the gentle slope and towards the looming ruin at a steady pace. The castle’s bulk filled her vision and the remains of its towers soon blotted out the sun, leaving them in a cold shade. Drawing to a halt before the building’s newly added doors, Melissa stepped down from her seat and walked forward. Above the doorway, the leering face of a gargoyle stared down at her. Discomfited, Melissa raised her hand and banged the heavy knocker against the wood. The noise echoed loudly for several moments before fading into silence.

  “It doesn’t look like there’s anyone here Miss.” Rachel couldn’t quite keep the relief from her voice as her mistress turned disappointed from the door. “Shall we go?”

  “A moment.” Melissa turned to her side and walked towards the large windows to her right. Staring through the murky glass, her eyes wandered over the furnishings of the room beyond. A blazing fire roared in the grate and a plate of bread and cold meats lay on the table.

  “He is here.”

  “But he’s not answering the door Miss. We should go.” Melissa ignored her and returned to the front door. She knew that Rachel was right, but she couldn’t just leave now, not when there were so many questions to be answered. It was likely that she would never get the same opportunity again. Taking a fortifying breath, she boldly depressed the door handle and quietly pushed open the large wooden door.

  “Miss!” Startled, Rachel jumped off the buggy and rushed forward. “What are you doing Miss?”

  “I need to find out something.” Visions of that closing wound filled her mind and gave her courage. “Stay and watch and warn me if anyone comes.”

  “But Miss.”

  “No buts Rachel. I have to do this one stupid thing before I become just another man’s wife.” Her voice was tremulous yet strong. “Please keep wa
tch.”

  Rachel bit her lip as Melissa spoke, her mind a jumble. She should not let her mistress do this, yet she could not stop her that much was clear. “Alright.” She murmured, returning to the trap and turning it round ready to leave. “Be careful.”

  A grateful smile edged across Melissa’s face as she turned back to the open door and tentatively walked through. The air in the hallway beyond was cool and slightly musty. Walking slowly to minimise noise on the flag stoned floor, she moved towards the door on the right. A grand staircase arched to the next floor and she could see the minstrels’ gallery above. The walls of the hall were wood panelled in dark mahogany, the heavy wood adding to the oppressive atmosphere as she slowly moved through. Her initial determination fading as the decayed ruin impressed itself on her. Stepping carefully, she reached the door and depressed the handle. Taking a breath to compose herself, she pushed herself into the ruin. The fire she had seen from the window burned cheerily in the large fireplace and the light was brighter here than in the hall. Above the fire’s mantle hung a large tapestry, the colours in the threads faded through age. Strewn carelessly across the back of a nearby chair was the brown riding jacket from that morning. Crossing the room, she ran her fingers across its suede surface, the motion releasing small bursts of scent across her nostrils.

  “Where are you Lestrade?” She murmured, softly, her voice tremulous and tiny in the vast parlour. Turning from the jacket, she left the room and headed for the door at the rear of the hall. Quietly, she turned the handle and walked in. Beyond was a library, its shelves groaning with books. Dazed she turned in a slow circle, her eyes taking in the sight. The shelves reached to the ceiling and each shelf was full of books and papers bound haphazardly with string. In addition to the stacked shelves a large table in the centre of the room was spread with papers and journals. It looked like the workroom of some mad librarian. Melissa turned to the stacks first. Some were titles she recognised, a heavy bound bible and several recent printed works, yet there were many that she did not recognise. There were tomes in Latin and Greek, German and French and languages that she had never seen before. She ran her fingers over the heavy bound titles, reading them with increasing unease. There was a copy of the Malleus Maleficurum and several French treatises on magic and the devil. Turning away from the stacks, she moved to the table, her fingers idly turning the pages of the journals to reveal reams of spiky handwriting. Looking past the battered volumes, her eyes fell on the piles of parchment and paper.

  “What is all this?”

  Her muttered exclamation sounded fatefully loud in the still air of the library as she carefully moved the top piece of paper from one stack and stopped dead. The parchment below held only a rough sketch. A sketch of the lotus that adorned Justin’s neck lay before her in painstakingly detailed glory, from its outward appearance to the revelation that the ornament was in fact a locket. The air in the library stifled her; the heavy, leaden atmosphere grew charged with tension as Melissa read the notations on the side of the picture.

  Unable to break the hinges or even remove the picture…will blacken with fire yet this has no other discernable effect... The curse still holds true and I am unable to free us from its grip.

  Curious, she pushed aside the picture and began to leaf through the pages beneath. Notes written in the same spiky handwriting that ran through the journals flowed across each piece of parchment. Each page detailed a test or effort to destroy the locket that he wore at his throat. With increasing bewilderment she read on, the passages becoming more unbelievable and disturbing. Moving swiftly to another pile, she carried on; thoughts of finding Justin pushed to one side as she read the sprawling piles of text. Within the papers and journal lay a terrible history, of a life lived too long and without the release of death.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Melissa gave a shriek and jumped backwards from the table. The movement sent a

  small stack of papers to the stone floor. From the doorway Justin walked towards her, his feet making no sound as he approached. With her heart in her mouth she watched him walk forward. His handsome face was creased with shock and anger burned in the dark depths of his eyes as they raked over the papers that she still held in her hands.

  “Justin!” A tremulous whisper escaped her lips as he stopped just shy of the table. She swallowed convulsively and the papers in her hands crackled as her fingers twitched fearfully. With blood roaring in her ears, she waited for him to speak, waited for his understandable anger at her trespass. Silence stretched uncomfortably across the room as he said nothing. Only his eyes were alive as they roved over the mass of paperwork on the table and her laden hands.

  “Justin?” She spoke again, dragging his attention from the mess and to contemplation of her. “I’m sorry... I…” She started to babble, trying to salvage something of the situation. In the back of her mind, she hoped that she could bluff her way free. “I didn’t mean to.. I shouldn’t have.”

  “What did you read?” He spoke finally, his voice terse and clipped with suppressed emotion as he stepped forward and began to tidy the pile of papers back into place. “What did you see?”

  “I…” She stammered as he turned aside the picture and looked down at it. “I just saw the picture.”

  “You saw more than that.” He noted dryly as he turned to face her. “You’ve seen my notes, you were reading quite devotedly when I came in.”

  “I’m sorry I… I’ll go.” She backed off towards the door, a prickle of fear travelling down her spine as he stared at her with those unfathomable eyes. If half of what she had read within that spidery mass of parchment were true, she knew she was in trouble.

  “Why? I’m sure you have questions.” He pushed aside a stack of papers and revealed a chair. “Please ask away.”

  “I’m intruding.. I don’t know what came over me.” She backed away further, feeling the round knob of the door handle pressing into her back as she stepped up against the door.

  “Melissa.” He sighed then and leant forward, his gaze softening as he watched the panic in her eyes. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Do you promise?”

  A look of pain briefly chased across his features at her words and he nodded. “I promise you are safe with me.”

  Melissa tentatively stepped forward and lowered herself into the chair. Justin uncovered another seat and sat down to face her. For several moments neither spoke. The atmosphere was fraught with tension and in Melissa’s case fear. A minute passed and eventually Justin spoke, his face breaking free of the dark shroud of angered shock that he had worn since entering.

  “I will not hurt you Melissa. I swear.” His voice was soft, soothing and he stood from the chair and headed for the door. “If you wish to leave..” He pushed open the door and revealed the empty hallway beyond. “You may, I will not stop you and once you go I promise to never bother you again.”

  Melissa hesitated, her fear of the unknown clashing with her desire to know more. Lestrade and his secrets drew her in and she could not leave without getting close to the mystery of the man before her.

  “Is it true? Are you really…” She blurted out, giving in finally to the clamouring voice of curiosity that pulsed through her mind. Justin shut the door and returned to his chair, waiting for her to continue in calm silence. Melissa took a long breath, unsure of how to continue with a statement that was patently ridiculous. She bit her lip, tasting the coppery warmth of blood and steeled herself to continue “Are you really immortal?”

  “I see you read that far.” He considered, looking at her carefully. “And how should I answer? Will I lie and pretend that you are foolish for considering such fairy tales?” He moved a stray piece of paper to the middle of the table and continued. “Or shall I pretend that I have a morbid fascination? Or shall I tell you nothing at all?” He ran his thumb and forefinger over his lips as he finished, his eyes not leaving hers. “Yet…” He sighed and leant forward, “You deserve the truth.”

&nb
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