The Black Lotus (Night Flower)

by Claire Warner

  “No, she will understand.” His mother soothed, laying aside her embroidery to stare at her oldest child. “You were protecting her.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Marcus turned to his mother and continued. “I know that Lestrade was innocent,” He nodded with a bitter smile at the look on his mother’s face. “He asked me to beat him and I did.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Damn me I did.”

  Lydia was silent as she watched Marcus pace, watched the torment in his features. Her son was a good man, always had been and this had hurt more than she had ever seen. After a few moments she stood and crossed over to him.

  “Marcus,” Her arms extended and wrapped about her son’s tall frame. As her hands flowed around him, he leant into her embrace, sobbing the way he had done when he was still a child. “It’s alright.”

  “It’s not alright; I beat an innocent man and made my sister believe that I am a monster.” Lydia patted him on the back, allowing him to cry out as she had done so many times in the past. Silently they stood there in the centre of the room as Marcus softly cried out his sorrows.

  “She will forgive you son,” Lydia whispered as Marcus’ tears finally dried up. “You’re her brother, she will find in her heart to forgive.”

  Marcus opened his mouth to speak and stopped as Melissa walked into the room.

  “I’m going to the Hawthorn ball.” She announced loudly, her gaze falling anywhere but on her brother.

  “You are?” Lydia’s voice was bemused; she had not been expecting Melissa to be attending any parties so soon after the events of the night.

  “I am and I will need you to accompany me.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Marcus stepped forward, looking at her with apology in his eyes.

  “That’s quite all right,” Melissa’s voice was cool; remote and Marcus felt a further stab of guilt at the implied accusation in her voice. “Mother can accompany me, she was going anyway.”

  “Well I was,” Lydia glanced at her two children and inwardly sighed, it would take a long time to defuse this little war. “Very well, arrange the carriage for five.”

  With a curt nod, Melissa left the room and headed upstairs, barely sparing her brother a glance.

  “I told you,” Marcus spoke as he reached for his riding hat. “She won’t forgive me.” With a sigh, he left the room and headed out towards the stables, hoping a ride would clear his head.

  Chapter 37:

  Melissa strolled through the wide hallway in a dress of cream brocade, her real hair hidden by an extravagantly designed wig. She moved through the crowd, dispensing hellos and platitudes as though nothing troubled her, yet the palms of her hands were clammy and her eyes raked over her fellows guests as though she were a hawk.

  “No puce is a wonderful colour if utilised properly,” Familiar, drawling tones flowed from a side room and she turned her head, staring through the door at the small group that stood within. Tarlington stood in the centre of the throng, holding court with a mixed group of men and women. A quizzing glass was held firmly in his hand and he gestured with it grandly as he held forth with his views on fashion.

  “Whatever you say Tarlington,” One of the others responded, his voice laughing. “But I don’t find puce all that appealing; it turns my stomach, particularly on someone who does not have the colouring for it.”

  “Well I suppose we all have our fancies and mine is..” Tarlington stopped speaking as his gaze fell onto the form of Melissa stood within the doorway. “Well I see we have an interloper,” He declared as he stepped forward and held out a hand. “It is lovely to see you again my dear,” Melissa entered the room, drawn in by the gentle pull of his fingers.

  “Well my dear are you ready to discuss the finer points of fashion,” He ran an appraising look over her form.

  “Err no,” Melissa stammered, looking at the eyes on her with some trepidation. “I wanted to speak to you about jewellery,”

  “Jewellery?” Tarlington responded, confusion colouring his features. “What could I tell you about jewellery?”

  “Not any old jewellery,” she clarified, staring him straight in the eyes and hoping that he would take the hints. “Enamelled jewellery; brooches to be precise.”

  A gleam of understanding flashed through his eyes and he nodded slightly. “I see, what exactly do you want to know?”

  “I believe Justin Lestrade has such a brooch,”

  “He doesn’t move in my circle, but I daresay you’re right,” Tarlington held out a hand and led her towards a set of seats in the corner of the room. “What of it?”

  “It’s missing,” She declared, unable to find a more oblique way to inform him of the fact. “He mentioned that he last saw it when in the company of John,”

  Tarlington took a deep breath and stared down at the young woman before him. “My dear, Justin’s possessions should be none of your concern,” His voice dropped in volume and he held her gaze with a look of complete seriousness. “And if John did see Justin’s brooch last, then it is up to the two of them to sort it out.” He reached for a goblet and long a sip, all the time his eyes resting on hers. “But you’re not going to leave it are you?”

  “I can’t, Justin is indisposed and unable to visit.”

  “I do advise you Miss De Vire to drop this enquiry.” Hugh leant forward and took her hand. “It’s not your concern,” He pitched his voice so that only she could hear and moved closer. “Whatever happened is between them and please do not get involved, it’s far too dangerous.”

  “But he saved my life,” Melissa retorted, staring at the older man.

  “Even more reason why you should stay far from him,” He placed the goblet down on the table and moved to stand. “I don’t want him to finish the job he started, so no Melissa, I’m not going to help you.”

  Melissa blinked back two warm tears and pulled herself upright; reaching for the sleeve of Tarlington’s jacket, she arrested his movement and pulled him back to face her. “Tarlington,” Her voice was harsh yet brittle, “Please help me,”

  “You should be ashamed Tarlington, not helping this lovely young woman.” A new voice declared from the doorway as Emily, dressed in a daringly cut, blue dress sashayed into the room. Melissa felt Tarlington freeze beside and he turned his elaborately coifed head to face the newcomer.

  “What is your interest in this matter?” Tarlington’s voice was cold and disapproving as the woman made her way across the floor.

  “My interest is my own,” Emily responded airily as she took in Melissa’s troubled face. “Oh dear this will never do,” She muttered as she reached forward and handed Melissa a handkerchief. “Wipe your eyes dear and then we can sort things out, but not here.” She stared round the room, noting the other guests. Catching hold of Melissa’s arm, she began walking with her from the room.

  “Emily,” Tarlington caught hold of the other’s arm and dragged her to one side. “Now is not the time for your games, John has made an appearance and things are far too dangerous at the moment for whatever amusement you have planned.”

  “And who says I’m planning anything?” The blonde answered carelessly as she turned from Tarlington and returned to Melissa’s side. “I’m just interested in aiding the cause of justice.” A bark of laughter escaped Hugh’s lips as he watched Emily take hold of Melissa’s upper arm. “Now then Melissa, I’m going to help you,” With Tarlington following, she walked Melissa into an empty room and shut the door.

  “No you’re not,” Hugh caught Emily’s other arm and forced her face towards his. “John took Justin’s brooch but as I tried to say to this overly emotional idiot,” he nodded at Melissa, who glowered back at him. “It is not her business, neither is it ours. John and Justin have been battling for a while now and they can sort it out themselves. If anyone else gets involved,” He threw up his hands in disgust and paced across the room to the tray of drinks. “If anyone else gets involved then it’s going to get very messy.” He picked up a g
lass of brandy and downed it in one swallow. “Justin has decided to not tarnish this one’s reputation, which means that he at least cares about her, if we put her in John’s path then I daresay he’ll be a tad put out with us.”

  Emily threw back her head and laughed. “Oh Hugh, Justin’s been a tad put out with us for a very long time now. I wouldn’t know how to handle things if he wasn’t.”

  “No Emily,” Hugh retaliated, his usual dandyish tones, serious and completely disapproving. “You remember what happened to Anna?” Emily glanced at Hugh and grimaced, her lovely face suddenly stricken with a pain that Melissa didn’t understand. “John is ruthless and he won’t stop, don’t encourage foolishness and let this girl get on with her life.”

  “Anna?” Melissa finally broke into the argument and both looked at her. Hugh glared at Emily before finally returning to Melissa’s side. “I understand that I’m a late arrival at this party, but will someone explain?”

  “Very well,” Tarlington caught hold of her hands and took a deep breath. “Anna was a girl Justin had feelings for about one hundred and fifty years back. As you’re no doubt aware, Justin is a ladies man, always has been, but when he met her, he saw something that pulled at him. He wondered if he could find some peace with her, but,” Tarlington sighed and reached out for one of the glasses of canary. “He was wrong.”

  “What happened?” Melissa asked, listening to the hypnotic quality of Hugh’s voice with interest. His hands were warm about hers and the sympathy in his gaze tugged at her heart.

  “It was both of them,” He replied, squeezing her hands lightly as he spoke. “Justin let her into his life and put her at risk, John took advantage of that and..”

  “He killed her?” Melissa whispered in response, trying to visualise Justin in the past.

  “Worse.” Hugh replied, his voice angry. “He decided that the best way to hurt Justin was to force Justin to kill her.”

  Melissa moved forward, wanting to hear and yet wishing that she could not. Behind her and to the left, Emily stood stock still, her face set in stone. “How?” Melissa breathed lightly, wondering if she really needed to know the answer.

  “How much do you know about these brooches?” Hugh asked, watching her face with interest.

  “I know that they make you immortal.”

  “It’s a bit more than that.” He answered carefully, “You have to take the life force of someone to keep alive,” he watched as horror slowly dawned on her face and smiled sadly. “And not only that. If you don’t take someone’s life, you’ll still live, you just won’t heal. You will be fully aware, even if you take a mortal wound. You can die and still be in your body rotting. So we have to steal other people’s energy.”

  “Then what happened to Anna?” Melissa whispered.

  “John broke into her house and took her. He then killed the one Justin was draining, drugged Justin and dragged him unconscious into a cellar. He placed Justin’s brooch in his hand and used Justin’s own fingers to open it.” His voice was low, breathless with bitterness as he related the tale. As he spoke, he looked down at her fingers; they were clasped together so tightly that they were white about the knuckles.

  “And then what?” She whispered, almost fearing to hear the end of the tale.

  “Then he forced Anna to look in the locket and she became Justin’s life.” Emily wrapped her arms about herself and stared straight ahead, listening intently to Hugh’s voice. “Justin then woke up, right before John slit his throat.” Hugh slammed his fist into the table beside him, startling the pair of them. “Justin had to watch as Anna took the damage from him. He could do nothing but watch as her skin split open and spilled her blood onto the floor. John gloated about it and blamed Justin for what had happened to her.”

  “Justin took it to heart,” Emily finished and looked down at her. “He never let himself get that close again, there are times obviously when one of us wants more human contact than what we have, but it isn’t possible.”

  Melissa stared down at her hands as Emily finished speaking and chewed her lower lip. She couldn’t quite take it in; it was too big for her. This tale, this tragedy was larger than anything she had faced in her life and she wanted more than anything to hide until it was all over. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tarlington’s face. He was paying close attention to her reactions. He wanted her to run, to go home and continue her mundane, safe existence. But could she do that? In her mind she saw Justin’s battered body lying on the floor of her stables and remembered his determination to push her away from this. If she just walked away, she would be safe, it was what he and Marcus and everyone else wanted, but it would feel wrong. Safety at the expense of another was cowardice and she wasn’t a coward. She remembered the terror of the other night, of that heavy frame, pressing her into the bed and once again, deep anger boiled within her. If she ran, John would win, his assault would define her forever and that too would be unacceptable. With a brisk jolt of her head, she drew her face upwards and stared at the two before her.

  “Why do you want me to help him?” Melissa demanded of Emily, her clear green gaze wanting answers.

  “Because when he doesn’t care, he turns into the shallow womanising idiot you saw at the ball.” Emily returned as she sank into the chair opposite. “I’ve had to put up with this rubbish for one hundred years and I’m sick of it.” She reached for Melissa’s hand. “I’m not saying he loves you, but he could. You make him feel again and that is worth more than anything.”

  “Emily.” Tarlington finally stepped forward and seized hold of her upper arm. “What are you thinking? Lestrade promised that he would not consider drawing another into this mess. I can’t believe that you would want to drag someone into our hell.”

  “I do not want him to bring her into our company, but if she does this for him, he’ll have some fond memories for the future, memories that won’t make him brood or send him into a flurry of meaningless...” She broke off and stared up at Hugh with a plea in her eyes. “She wants to help and I think she should.”

  The dandy rolled his eyes and rounded on her. “You don’t care about her and you don’t care about him. This is another one of your games, don’t play with her life like this.” His voice was low, threatening and Melissa suppressed a shudder.

  Emily laughed, a silvery, tinkling laugh that bounced off the walls and ceiling. “Oh my dear Hugh, how can you think that?”

  “Because I know you, you’re not an altruist.”

  Melissa watched the impending argument with a mounting fury. Standing abruptly, she faced down the pair of them. They both stopped speaking and stared down at her furious face. “I don’t care.” She announced finally, her words ringing in the sudden silence. “And I’m not scared.” Melissa stared at Emily and beckoned her forward. “You will take me to John and we will take that brooch back.” Tarlington moved to speak and she rounded on him. “Whatever you may Tarlington, John will not make me run. He owes me satisfaction for the other night, if I run and hide behind my skirts, then he gets away with it.” Her voice hardened and she stared up at the older man’s face. “I’m not going to let him get away with it.” Flicking her gaze over to Emily, she continued to speak, her voice getting stronger with every word. “I’m not doing this just for Justin; I’m doing this for me.” She held out her hand to Emily and beckoned. “Well are we going?”

  The blonde stared at her outstretched hand and nodded. With one movement she had reached forward and clasped her hand. As their hands met, Melissa froze; Emily’s was pressing an object into her fingers. It had a hard, glossy surface; cool and smooth against the skin of her palm. Recognising the shape and feel of enamel, she raised her head and looked at Emily. The blonde was smiling that perfect beautiful smile, a smile that held a tinge of mischief.

  “What?” She managed to gasp out, aware of the Black Lotus against her skin dragging her down into darkness. Until the last remnant of consciousness fled from her body, she focused on the blonde, betrayal thrum
ming through every vein as she stared at that perfect visage.

  Chapter 38:

  She did not know how long she had been out, did not know how long she had laid on the floor. All she knew was the reality of that brooch in her hands. As Tarlington waved the snuff box beneath her gaze, as she felt the smooth planes of the brooch within her hand, she knew what had happened. Through the cloud of darkness, she remembered, focused in on that moment when Emily had pressed the brooch into her fingers. With hatred searing through her, she stared up at the blonde.

  “You bitch!”

  Emily smiled in response and stepped away, ignoring Melissa’s incoherent rage. In an instant, Tarlington had caught her by the shoulders.

  “It’s alright Melissa, just take a breath.” He urged, throwing an exasperated glare at Emily. “Come on now,” Tarlington placed his arms about her shoulders and helped her to her feet. “It’ll be fine.” He sat her down in a chair by the fire. For a long moment she said nothing as she drew in vast gulps of air, trying to make sense of what had just occurred..