Real Vampires: When Glory Met Jerry

by Gerry Bartlett

  “It was horrid. People should look out the window when they throw things. There was a fight between a woman and a man. We found out later that the wife had caught her husband dallying with the upstairs maid. She threw the pot at his head and it sailed through the window. Michael just happened to be walking down below. He never knew what hit him.”

  “I’m that sorry for your loss, girl. And this was a year ago?” Fergus got up and fetched the same short cloak that Jeremiah had put over my shoulders the night before. “How have you survived since?”

  “Master Shakespeare let me stay in the theater, sewing and earning a bit of coin helping with the costumes. But his patience ran out yester eve and I was told to leave.” I shuddered, thinking of the offer from Becks.

  “You landed on your feet, lass. You couldn’t find a kinder man than Jeremiah, though…” Fergus got a thoughtful look. “There are things you don’t know. But it’s not my place to tell you.” He unlocked the door to the outside. “You will find that he has a use for you. Just as you are getting a safe place to stay, clothes and a lusty bedmate on your part. Mayhap it is not such a bad bargain.” He turned and locked the door behind us after we were in the passage.

  “That’s what I keep telling myself, Fergus. I have never done something like this before. Or at least not that I can remember.” I put my hand on his sleeve. He wasn’t dressed richly but not as a servant either. More like a prosperous shopkeeper or a secretary to a lord. His velvet coat was unadorned, but wherever we went, we would be served promptly--if for no other reason than he was big and fierce looking. No one with good sense would ignore him.

  “No memories of a family. That would be hard. In the Highlands, family, clan, is everything to us. Loyalties run deep.” He took my elbow and escorted me toward the outer door.

  I breathed deeply when we finally emerged. Yes, it was damp and cold and cloudy. But I was glad to be where I could see the weak sunlight and know that the air was fresh. I was afraid living underground would become hard after a while. And locked in? I tried not to dwell on it. There were benefits to this arrangement that would more than make up for the strange quarters.

  We walked until we came to the Globe Theater but no one was about. It was too early for theater folk. Fergus promised to send someone round later with a message that I was fine and well-situated.

  Then it was on to a fashionable street where the rich traded. I must not be the first woman Jeremiah had dressed because Fergus knew right where to take me. The dressmaker greeted him warmly and quickly found a dress that would suit the king’s court. It was a rich red silk trimmed in gold that swished when I moved. I felt like a princess in it. I wished Maggie could see me and wondered how to manage that. When lace cuffs, heeled shoes, and a cloak of black velvet were added, I felt as if I had fallen on the stones again and was dreaming.

  “No ruff.” Fergus was firm in his orders. “Jeremiah likes to see a woman’s neck. Perhaps he will buy you jewels for it, Gloriana. That would be much better than a ruff, I’d say.” If the man’s face was red, I didn’t wonder at it. He’d sat through my trying on dress after dress. He was surely tired of the shopkeeper and me discussing stockings, chemises and petticoats. He wouldn’t allow things to be delivered either, whispering to me that he never gave out Jeremiah’s direction to tradesmen. Instead, he ordered this night’s dress and accessories put in a large package for him to carry. He would pick up the half dozen other dresses on the morrow.

  We were outside again when Fergus mentioned yet another shop for hats.

  “Oh, no. It is too much. What if Jeremiah—” I couldn’t say it. If he tired of me quickly?

  “Let him spend his gold, lass. He can well afford it.” Fergus stopped suddenly. “Go back inside, Gloriana.”

  “Ho, cousin, do you think to hide Campbell’s new fancy piece from me?” A large man who looked very like Fergus stepped into our path.

  “Mind yer tongue, Bran.” Fergus glowered at him.

  “I’m sure my master will be happy to know Campbell has a new ladybird.” The man winked at me. “Comely as well. No wonder you carry such a large package.”

  I kept my mouth shut, staying behind Fergus when he pushed into his “cousin.”’

  “You’d do well to keep this meeting to yourself, Bran. The lady has no part in the quarrel between our masters.” Fergus’s voice was low and hard.

  “Aye, ’tis true. But she could very well end up the spoils of war. Like most Scots, my master does enjoy variety in his bed.” Bran did back up a pace when Fergus growled. “But take up with Campbell’s leavings? I doubt you have reason to worry about the lass, cousin.” With that the man quickly turned and strode away.

  Fergus looked like he wanted nothing more than to chase the man down and pound him with the fists that clutched my package.

  “Fergus?” I put a hand on his arm.

  “I’m that sorry, Gloriana. My cousin was ill-mannered. Which was not like him. It must come from listening to his master speak ill of mine. Pray ignore him and his loose tongue. It is unfortunate that we serve men who hate each other. Were it not so we would be happy to see each other.” He kept frowning in the direction where the man had disappeared into the crowd. “Jeremiah will be in no hurry to let you go. You will look a treat tonight when he shows you to the king and that will make him happy. He certainly seemed well-served when I last saw him as well.” Fergus hurried me along until we were back at the door of the underground lodgings and he escorted me inside.

  Well-served. The words haunted me as I unwrapped the beautiful dress. How had I been brought so low? I bowed my head to hide my tears. Fergus obviously noticed.

  “I will go get us food. Then perhaps you would like another bath. Jeremiah told me you are greedy for such things. Another reason you please him. He is fond of his baths as well.” His beefy hand landed on my back, like a quick pat of reassurance. “Lay out your things so they won’t get creased. I’ll be back soon.”

  “I thank you. I couldn’t put on that beautiful dress tonight without a bath.” I flushed. Where would Fergus be while I took one?

  “I’ll fill the tub in front of the fire then wait outside. You can call me when you’re done.” He winked. “I know better than to gaze on Jeremiah’s ladybirds.”

  “Have there been many?” I couldn’t help it. That word again. If I was one in a long line of his women, I didn’t know what to think. It made me feel cheap, used, no matter what sweet things Jeremiah said to me. He had been “well-served.” The words kept playing in my head, putting me in my place right enough.

  “Not as many as there could have been.” Fergus frowned. “We will eat first. I say too much and it is not my story to tell. Just know that Jeremiah has needs. Special needs. If ye keep pleasing him and make no unreasonable demands, he’ll have no cause to replace you. But--” He shook his head. “I canna say more. His hunger…” He stalked to the door then turned to look me over. “Lass, it might be best for you to take the new clothes when they come and a bag of gold and run for your life.” With that he left, locking the door behind him.

  Now what did that mean? Run? And what kind of hunger? Yes, Jeremiah was lusty. Hunger for a woman, no doubt. I’d heard some men liked more than one woman at a time in their bed. Would he want that at some point? I couldn’t imagine it. If I refused would Jeremiah call me unreasonable?

  The idea made me shudder. Then wonder how that would work. What would we do? Blast. Now I was thinking too hard about it. With these men around me who seemed to read my mind, I would have to stop those thoughts or the next thing I knew there would be a comely lass as Fergus called her, showing up beside the bed eager to please both me and Jeremiah.

  I wandered over to the pile of documents on a table and tried to puzzle out words. Fergus had said he would teach me. So I would do what I could to stay here long enough to learn as much as possible. There was a map among the parchments. I traced the lines with a fingertip. Borders between lands. Was that why Jeremiah had enemies? Did th
is MacDonald clan think to lay claim to his property? Such things seemed important to men. Master Shakespeare had written plays about disputes of that sort. They always included violent clashes and war.

  I knew my letters, thanks to Michael, but not much more than that. I hated to be so ignorant. Certainly the actors were all men of intelligence and learning or they’d never be able to memorize the lines the master wrote. Michael had declaimed long and complicated speeches with passion. I could have listened to his deep voice for hours as he practiced his parts. I had even managed to memorize some of them.

  I still missed my husband. He’d been a kind man, though not always attentive. The stage was his mistress, he’d told me more than once. He came alive there. He’d certainly never taken the time to give me the kind of pleasure Jeremiah had last night.

  Oh, but I was disloyal! What did I really know of men? If only I could remember my life before falling on the stones… Michael had been afraid to let the actors know I had no memory. So we’d made up parents in Cheapside who had cast me out when I took up with an actor. It had been a common enough tale that was readily accepted by the people in the troupe.

  Our marriage was also a story, an act made believable by the cheap ring Michael had bought me in a shop one day. No priest had spoken words over us. He’d insisted I take his last name since I had none of my own. Because he’d seen the way other men had watched me and grown jealous. It had been a sad day when I’d been desperate enough to sell that ring. Everything else I’d had of value had gone long ago.

  “Here you be.” Fergus was back with a full basket again. “Jeremiah told me you are partial to meat pies. So we’ll dine on them this night.”

  “Should we wait for him?” I walked over and lifted the cloth. The smell made my stomach rumble.

  “He will eat before you see him again.” Fergus pulled out two plates. “Sit. I have ale. Will you join me?”

  “Of course. Thank you.” I sat and smiled at him. “You are being very kind, Fergus. I have made my choice to stay here and will keep my eyes open. You have warned me and I appreciate it. I have food, fine clothes and a comfortable place to stay.” I took the brimming cup he poured for me. “Surely I can count those as blessings.” I looked down when my cheeks grew hot. “Jeremiah is handsome and kind. I may be sorry to see him tire of me, but I am not so foolish as to think this is anything more than a temporary arrangement.” My stomach clenched and it wasn’t from hunger this time. “If there is any real danger, I hope I can make the decision to seek a safer situation.” Though the idea of trying to find someone else made the cup in my hand drop to the table.

  “Very sensible, lass.” He sat across from me and pulled a pie from the basket. “Now I think Jeremiah would agree it is all right for me to tell you about the MacDonalds. They are bitter enemies though their lands lie side by side with those of Clan Campbell.”

  “I was looking at the map on the table. If they are neighbors, it is too bad they cannot get along.” I took a bite of the fragrant pie. I was finally able to eat without gobbling it down like I’d never get another meal. It was a good feeling.

  “The two clans have accused each other of stealing for centuries—cattle, sheep, even crofters. But things went bad a while back. Verra bad. People were killed. I canna say more. But it was unforgivable. Now Jeremiah and Robert MacDonald are set against each other.” Fergus drank and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I hope it doesn’t end in murder. Their fathers would never get over it.”

  “Is it Robert MacDonald who your cousin Bran works for?” I sipped my ale. It was rich and tasty. I was careful to drink slowly. I would need my wits about me if I was to meet the king.

  “Unfortunately. The MacDonalds also have the ear of the king. Naturally they sent their son and heir as well. It is politics, ye ken.”

  “I suppose.” I kept eating as Fergus fussed and fumed while he polished off two meat pies. I could barely finish one. Nerves. Meeting the king. Worrying about dangers at court.

  “No one will make a move in front of the king. And Jamie will demand they cry peace. It is one reason he wants them at court. He canna have the clans at war. He wants them to support him and be reasonable with each other. Show the English that he has level heads in Scotland, not wild clansmen he canna control.” Fergus pulled out a block of cheese and cut a wedge. He waved it in the air.

  “But Highlanders answer to no man, not even a king. Be careful, lass. Watch and listen. Robert MacDonald likes the ladies and the ladies like him. Bran is wrong. MacDonald will want you, if only to rile Jeremiah.”

  “I am not so foolish as to get in the middle of a war between clans.” I pushed my plate away, the strong smell of the cheese making my stomach roll. “Surely the men will hold their tempers at court.”

  Fergus merely laughed and ate his cheese.

  I had seen Jeremiah fight. And he insisted on wearing his plaid even though he admitted it made him a target for some who disapproved of it. “I’ve only just met Jeremiah but he seems to have a mind of his own. Will he make peace with the MacDonalds as the king demands?”

  “If he does not, he risks the future of his clan.” Fergus finished his ale and rose from the table. “He does have a temper when goaded. It is a worry, make no mistake about that. If there’s one thing you can do, lass, it is to keep him in a jolly mood. He hates Robert MacDonald and may well lose control if he comes face to face with him at court. Throw yourself between the men if it looks like they’re about to take out their swords. Distract them even if you have to drop your bodice to do it. Do you understand me?”

  “Fergus! I couldn’t do that.” I laughed, sure he was jesting. But one look at his fierce visage and I knew he wasn’t. He wanted me to keep Jeremiah from making a dangerous play. I gripped the cup of ale and felt that meat pie sit like a stone in my gullet. If Jeremiah fell into disfavor with the king, where would that leave me? Mayhap I’d fallen from the pan into the fire.

  Chapter Five

  I had bathed and retired to the bedchamber to get dressed when I heard the key in the lock again. I quickly shut the door when I heard him move the hip bath then water going down the drain. Fergus then. I had no idea if it was dark outside or not. When would Jeremiah come? I fussed with the strings of the many petticoats before slipping the red silk over my head. I needed a mirror but could find none. How would I do something with my hair?

  I heard another door open and close, then voices. Jeremiah was home at last. A knock on the door before he stuck his head inside.

  “Ah, you are getting ready.” He smiled. “I must bathe and won’t ask you to wash my back in that gown. Your shopping went well, I see. You look beautiful.” He studied me. “What’s amiss?”

  “I need a looking glass and a brush for my hair.” I hated to complain. Fergus had spent a small fortune on the dress I wore. But how would I look without the fancy hairstyle ladies were sure to wear with their gowns at court?

  “Of course.” He nodded then left, shouting for Fergus and issuing orders. He was back in moments. “He will find what you need. A mirror and comb if nothing else. I am that sorry you had to ask.” He moved closer and dropped a kiss on my lips. “You smell good.”

  “Fergus bought some special soap for me. Scented with roses, like I used in the theater. You said you liked it.” I brushed a hand over his chest, then unbuttoned his waistcoat, eager to please him. “You did say you needed a bath. Is it ready for you? You don’t want the water to cool.”

  “Are you trying to undress me?” His grin said he didn’t mind it. “Here. Let me help.” He threw off the coat then made quick work of his shirt, drawing it off over his head.

  Oh, but he had a fine chest. I ran my hands over it. “You have scars. Were you in battle?”

  “Aye, I was a warrior. Long ago. Before…” He pulled my hands to his lips and kissed them. “I wish we had time for love play now, Gloriana. But I must get ready for court. The king does not like to be kept waiting.” He looked down to where my brea
sts were almost fully displayed in the low neckline. “I promise we will have ample time for it later.” He leaned forward and kissed the top of each mound that I feared would burst free from the tight bodice. The dressmaker had insisted it was the latest fashion. I dared not take a deep breath.

  “I will hold you to that promise, sir.” I followed him into the main room where his bath waited. He sat to take off his shoes and stockings then got up to remove his pantaloons, winking at me when he strolled over to the bath as naked as the day he was born. Of course he saw me admiring his muscular buttocks. Oh my!

  The key turned in the lock and Fergus arrived as Jeremiah settled into the bath with a sigh.

  “I’ve got what she needs here.” His hands were full. “Gloriana, the goodwife wants her mirror back, ’tis a family piece. The rest you can keep. I paid heavily for it.” Fergus ignored Jeremiah as he strode past him and handed me a bag and a silver hand mirror. “There are several patches if you want to put one on your cheek. Powder as well. Do not ask me to act ladies maid for you. I’ve no hand for hair dressing.”

  “Now, Fergus, don’t be modest.” Jeremiah laughed as he picked up a cake of plain soap from the hearth. “I’m sure you could do a credible job with Gloriana’s hair.”

  Fergus muttered something in a language I didn’t understand and stalked out of the room. He returned with the fancy clothes Jeremiah would wear to court. There was another plaid, this one of the finest wool. The doublet to go with it had slashed sleeves that showed red and gold to match my dress. There was golden lace for the cuffs and the entire look would make it clear that Jeremiah was rich and belonged in a king’s company.

  “Do the ladies at court use powder and patches, Jeremiah?” I didn’t want to seem too plain, though the dress alone would surely make me look acceptable.

  “Aye, some of them do. But I don’t much care for the powder. It can make a mess in close quarters. Add a patch if you like.” He grinned at me. “Next to your mouth, I think. And a little paint on your lips if there is some in that bag Fergus brought for you.”