A Hyacinth for His Hideousness

Home > Other > A Hyacinth for His Hideousness > Page 7
A Hyacinth for His Hideousness Page 7

by Tharah Meester


  They were about to come up to the unknown man who had ordered Vrila to this place. Hyacinth felt his pulse quicken. Who might the stranger be? And what did he want? He placed a hand on the grip of the pistol to draw it if need be.

  The author of the message turned to them, as if he had sensed their presence. He was a slender, middle-aged man with dark eyes. He didn’t look particularly friendly, and his gaze narrowed when he directed it at Gavrila.

  “I should have thought as much,” Gavrila snarled. “What do you want, Howard? I told you with absolute clarity I wished to have no further conversations.”

  “I would also prefer not having to see your horrendous visage again! We could have left it at that had you not decided to marry this street rat!” Howard pointed an index finger at Hyacinth who emitted an exclamation of irritation and shock.

  Gavrila extended an arm and drew Hyacinth behind his back in a protective stance. “My private life and my boy don’t concern you in any way.”

  My boy, Hyacinth repeated in his thoughts while his heart nearly stopped. What might that mean? How did he mean that? Fatherly? Romantically? No, for Heaven’s sake! He was standing here and thinking about romance, although this man had used him and beat him.

  Of course, Gavrila had also saved his life. So many people would have watched his father rob him of his last breath. Vrila was the only one who had intervened.

  “You’re mistaken, Ardenovic! You’ve committed an act of great foolishness and again I’m the one who must warn you.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Inform you of something of interest to you.”

  “Then start talking!”

  “Hathaway sees it as a personal affront that you’ve made this alley cat your own after he tried to expel him from society.”

  “What is he planning to do?” Gavrila’s dark tone changed to one of concern.

  “As far as I know, nothing is planned yet. Of course, he’ll keep a close watch on you. Rumour has it your old card-playing group still meets.”

  “Perhaps,” Vrila replied coldly, and the men sized one another up with piercing glares.

  “Are there any new discoveries of significance to me?”

  “I don’t believe so. Now tell me why you fetched me all the way out here. You’re bound to want something from me.”

  Howard cleared his throat and swept a hand across his cheeks. “Indeed, there is something you could do for me. Surely the name Ferdill is familiar to you?”

  “The nobleman whose estate lies out on the edge of town?”

  “Exactly the one,” was confirmed in a crass voice.

  “What about him?”

  “He’s suspected of fornicating with small children and regularly having some delivered from the Stakreich. Of course, the worthy inspector is refusing to order an investigation because Ferdill has a great deal of influence and, most importantly, money.”

  “The times when noblemen enjoyed immunity are past.”

  “Hathaway is of the old school. He doesn’t want to recognise that and is protecting the filthy scumbag. You know what you need to do.” Howard paused briefly during which Hyacinth asked himself amid the silence what Gavrila had to do. ”As always,” Howard added, “I’ll vanish from the city for a few days so no one can tie me to the affair should something go wrong. Is there anything I should know?”

  It appeared to Hyacinth his husband might be struggling with himself, but at last he shook his head and answered the question in the negative without having told the policeman about the necklace on Florin Genwood’s body.

  It wasn’t lost on Howard that they were keeping important details from him. He clenched his teeth with an audible grinding of his jaw. “Well then, pay close attention to your husband. Not that an accident will befall him. The streets are dangerous and you can’t trust anyone. Does the boy know the entire city hates you? It wouldn’t surprise me if someone doesn’t already have the pretty lad in his sights.”

  “Stop trying to frighten him,” Vrila growled ominously.

  “The lad must be fearless if he’s married to such an abominable creature as you and hasn’t yet tried to run.” Those severe words took Hyacinth’s breath away, as Howard spit at the toes of Gavrila’s boots. “Or do you put him in chains? Do you have a collar and leash for him?”

  Hyacinth grabbed the folds of Gavrilas overcoat so he could hold him back in case he tried to attack the mutton shunter.

  To his immeasurable confusion, Vrila didn’t appear to have anything of the sort in mind. Instead of an assault on Howard, he cast a glance over his shoulder. In the short time Hyacinth had to interpret the look on his face, if he had to guess, he’d say he detected no anger. Only offence and an odd expression of pain which made Hyacinth feel despondent.

  Gavrila appeared resigned and stiffened his shoulders. “I’ll send you a message as soon as I learn anything. As usual, I expect a service in exchange for this illegal favour.”

  The policeman nodded rapidly. “Present your demand whenever you have information for me.” With that, he turned and left.

  *

  In silence they had walked home. In silence Vrila had begun to prepare the noontime meal. In silence Hyacinth watched him.

  The only words between them since Howard had vanished had been a quiet ‘Sit down, I’ll do it’ by Gavrila when he’d offered to help in the kitchen.

  Therefore Hyacinth sat at the table. A book lay open in front of him. His teacher had given him an assignment to read, but at the moment he was incapable of doing so. He could only think of the many vicious things Howard had said to Vrila.

  In fact, he had already heard – from circulating on the fringes of society – all the gossip about Gavrila Ardenovic. At the time he believed all the chatter took place behind Gavrila’s back. Now it had become evident that people told him to his face what they thought of him.

  Only Vrila’s back and the back of his head were visible while he was standing at the stove. His shoulders were arched, and he gave the impression of being notably tense.

  Hyacinth attempted to say something to dispel this uneasiness. He licked his parched lips. “What do you have to do for Howard?”

  “I’ll break into Ferdill’s house to search for evidence.”

  Hyacinth held his breath. Break in? “Will you take me along?”

  “Do I even have a choice?” a soft, scratchy voice replied.

  “Not really, if you don’t want me spying on you from behind.” He smiled mischievously because he hoped to hear a terse laugh or at least a mocking response. To his disappointment, Vrila didn’t do so. “Aren’t you worried?” he asked instead.

  “About what?”

  “What the detective said. Because someone could harm you.”

  “Judging from the frequency of you saying that I need to lock the door and allow no one in, you’re more worried than I am.”

  “My trepidations are not unfounded.”

  Had Vrila just confessed to being worried about him? His heart skipped a beat. “I know how to defend myself. Besides, now I have this.” He drew his pistol from its holster and admired it with a smile on his face.

  “I want you to be careful.”

  “Of course I will be.”

  “To be quite honest, your conduct appears less like that to me.”

  “You’re referring to what just happened. That was only because you are so terribly apodictic,” Hyacinth countered, employing one of the pretentious words he’d learned from Mr Wiplay.

  “Apodictic?” came the breathless response as Vrila finally turned to him – only briefly, but did so anyway. Their glances met.

  “Tolerating no contradictions,” he explained with an effort to sound snobbish.

  “I know what it means.”

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “I didn’t ask, I simply wanted to express my incredulity. Besides, a person cannot be apodictic. Only statements and philosophical argu…”

  “Of course a person can
be apodictic!” He didn’t know if that was true, but he tried to assert it in an apodictic tone of voice.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I think so. And should I be mistaken, then you will be the first human being to be apodictic. Don’t think of it as a distinction, Sir, for your husband is anything but pleased by your stubbornness.”

  No reply ensued, and Hyacinth wondered if he had gone too far. He’d wanted to cheer Vrila up, but apparently was unsuccessful. Perhaps he’d even achieved the opposite. Oh, what an idiot he was…

  *

  How had the lad repeatedly managed to put a smile on his face? Hyacinth had even prompted him to laugh once. It had appalled Gavrila because he never laughed.

  Hurriedly, he attempted to bring his mouth under control and drive away that undesired smile from his lips. He finally bit the tip of his tongue to regain some sense of composure. He cleared his throat while ladling the soup into bowls where abundant strips of pancakes were lying. He sprinkled a few slivers of chives over them and carried the dishes to the table.

  Hyacinth closed his book and laid it on the chair beside him to take his bowl and cast a curious, hungry glance into it. A subtle but perceptible glimmer appeared in his eyes and he smiled. It was astonishing how easily someone could please him. He had a plain and simple soup in front of him and seemed as excited as if he were being served something as sumptuous as the dandies ate. With impatience he grabbed a spoon, eagerly scooped pancake onto it and shoved it into his face with a pleasurable sigh.

  ”Enjoy,” Gavrila mumbled in an attempt to sound cynical, but instead his voice was only hoarse.

  His husband blushed when he understood the allusion to his bad table manners and replied ‘Enjoy’ with a full mouth.

  Gavrila almost grinned but was able to restrain himself at the last moment by quickly putting a hand to his lips before he began to eat.

  “When will we be dealing with this Ferdill?”

  That question chased away all of the warm emotions stirring in his heart and confusing him. He found it distressing that Hyacinth wanted to come along. It was risky. However, he supposed the stubborn boy could not be dissuaded without doing something foolish. “Tonight. I want to put the matter behind me.”

  “Are you sure? But you slept so poorly.”

  He’d slept no differently than every night – that is to say, not at all. The prospect of nothing about that ever changing caused him to react irritably. “I would be immeasurably grateful to you for not questioning every single decision of mine.”

  “Tolerating no contradiction is being apodictic,” Hyacinth mumbled to himself and made Gavrila groan. “Good, then tonight.”

  “If you find this so worrisome, you can stay at home.”

  A narrow glare faced him. “That would suit you just fine.”

  “Yes, I’d prefer it,” he admitted openly because the lad knew anyhow. Unfortunately it was one and the same to him. “If you want to accompany me, I would like you to lie down afterwards and get some rest.”

  “As you wish,” Hyacinth replied unwillingly and rolled his eyes, but at least he didn’t try to contradict him this time. Anyhow they made a small amount of progress… “Why did Howard give you, of all people, this assignment?”

  “Because he knows I’ll do almost anything to obtain information about the society and because… I have nothing to lose,” he murmured after a brief hesitation. That was no longer true. Now he did have something to lose. The gentle young man with the blond locks who had to call himself his husband. “At least, not a good reputation.”

  Chapter 5

  At the onset of darkness Vrila appeared in the doorway leading into the bedroom. “We must go,” he said softly as if hoping to be able to leave him behind in a deep and sound slumber. That would suit his apodictic spouse just fine. Afterwards he would assert that he had tried everything to wake him up…

  Hyacinth pretended to cough as he turned to Gavrila. “I… I think I’m ill.”

  “Ill?” His husband approached and looked down at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m not sure. My heart is beating so fast, and I can’t stop coughing.” He coughed once more to convince Vrila his condition was genuine.

  Vrila seemed truly worried and sat beside him on the edge of the bed. He felt Hyacinth’s brow with his cold hand. The unexpectedly gentle touch moved Hyacinth to close his eyes.

  “You don’t feel feverish.”

  “I think you need to examine me with your stethoscope,” he declared as innocently as possible and almost grinned when Vrila nodded without suspicion and retrieved the object from his night table.

  “Take off your shirt,” he instructed and Hyacinth did as he was told then lay down again. “Calmly inhale and exhale.”

  With curiosity he observed Vrila as he placed one end of the tube over his heart and held his ear to the other end to listen. Long, jet-black hair brushed over his chest, tickling him. It took great effort for him to suppress a laugh.

  He examined his husband’s concentrated look. The wrinkles on Vrila’s high forehead were deep, his eyes – accented by dark circles – stared into emptiness, and between his lips was a small opening through which he breathed quietly.

  “Your heartrate is normal. Sit up and turn your back to me.”

  He nervously obeyed and felt the wood against his skin once again.

  “Cough hard.”

  He submitted, and Vrila listened through the tube. What was he hearing? Hyacinth would eagerly like to know and learn how to auscultate properly.

  A gentle tapping on various places followed, and he had to cough a second time.

  “Your lungs aren’t congested. I don’t hear anything unusual.”

  “Then perhaps I’m not so ill after all,” Hyacinth admitted, mumbling, and was happy his flushed cheeks remained hidden from the other’s view.

  Immediately afterward, a gentle blow with the stethoscope struck him on the back of his head, and Vrila emitted a grunt of displeasure. “Spare me such jests in future. Now get dressed if you intend to come along.” He threw his wooden tube onto the unmade bed and left the room.

  *

  “Are you irked because of me?” The lad asked while they were prowling around the nobleman’s huge estate to determine where the wall was low enough to gain unpermitted access.

  “Does that surprise you?” he growled back because he was incensed. Mainly at himself, because he felt he’d demonstrated his concern much too openly.

  “It was stupid of me to deceive you. Can you forgive me?” Hyacinth’s husky whispering made Gavrila’s rage disappear for the moment.

  However, he remained cold. “We’ll see.”

  His reaction provoked Hyacinth’s anger. “Oh? My offence weighs more heavily than your blows with the belt?”

  Vrila was struck hard and turned away from his husband although they could barely see one another in the darkness. After a gulp he asked irritably: “Have you forgiven me for those?”

  Despite knowing he hadn’t earned such forgiveness, he fervently hoped for a positive reply to the question which had just crossed his lips.

  “I don’t know. I would say, we’ll see,” the young man mocked him and folded his arms over his chest.

  At that point Gavrila should have begged forgiveness for that punishment, but he was incapable of leaping over his own shadow. He wanted to swear to never again lay a hand on Hyacinth with vicious intent. Instead, he persisted in his silence and listened to the furious beating of his heart.

  Furtively clearing his throat, he pointed to a low wall of porous stone covered in ivy. “I think we can easily overcome this barrier.”

  Hyacinth shrugged his shoulders. “After you, Sir.”

  Gavrila began to climb the small protective wall which turned out to be relatively simple. Shortly afterwards he landed on the other side with both soles on grass and brushed off his hands on his trousers to get rid of the fine sand from the rocks.

  The boy follow
ed him and defensively crossed his arms again when they stood beside one another in Ferdill’s unkempt garden.

  All of the windows were dark, suggesting the lord of the manor was away and his servants already in their beds.

  Gavrila headed for a narrow rear entrance framed by climbing vines. Obviously planted there to protect the door from curious observers, they were unable to deceive Vrila’s attention.

  “I’d much prefer you to wait for me out here,” he said in as authoritative a tone as possible to the young man walking behind him.

  “And I’d prefer you weren’t so hard-hearted. Looks like we both have unfulfillable wishes.”

  Considering that Hyacinth and the rest of the world believed he had a heart of stone, it ached at that moment with suprising intensity. Like someone were thrusting a freshly sharpened blade into his chest.

  He had supposed to have overcome such sentiments. Just like all the other ones which Hyacinth now conjured up again – along with some emotions completely unfamiliar to him.

  The question was, how he could get rid of them! He didn’t know how to deal with such feelings. He wanted to drive them away, avoid a closer confrontation.

  Something within whispered that none of this would go away. When he cast a glance at his husband whose gentleness, purity and beauty stood in stark contrast to him, the whispering became an unbearable scream.

  He wiped his sweat-covered face, raked his fingers through his hair and noticed he was trembling. With effort he pulled out a skeleton key which could fit most any lock.

  Fortunately the door to Ferdill’s villa proved to be no exception. It unlocked with one turn and creaked as he shoved it open. He tensed and truly hoped the old lord was not at home to catch them in the act of breaking into his house. Vrila would wind up in the devil’s den and would drag the lad with him into the abyss…

  It wasn’t the first time he had put himself in such peril to obtain information by way of Howard, but this time he bore responsibility not only for himself but also for Hyacinth.

 

‹ Prev