“Bad? It’s worse than bad! You would have had a leg to stand on had you had the decency to drag this fop back to your apartment, but you had sex in a public place! What the deuce am I supposed to argue? That you wanted to have sex in public, but not public-public? Or that you were only performing for certain members of the public, but not others?”
“It was a private room …” she interjected. She didn’t have to wait long for the onslaught of the legal perspective to be unleashed.
“A private room, you say? A private room that has a sign on the door saying that you’re being taped, and further, making you aware that this tape may be shown! Anywhere! Everywhere! I have a picture of it in front of me! You can still read English can’t you?”
Miranda audibly moaned. She placed a hand over her forehead and visibly shrunk.
“But Tony said …”
“You mean, Tony Alvira that worthless club owner that is wringing every ounce of free publicity out of this?”
She peeked through her fingers.
“Yes, I think that would be the one. You mean, he’s not helping?”
“Helping himself is more like it! He’s the one that has to bring suit since it is technically his property that was stolen, but he refuses to press charges. Publicly he says the tape was stolen, but privately he says he doesn’t know what happened. He refuses to acknowledge a crime to me or to the police – except that having sex in public is itself a crime or didn’t you know that either? Oh, you are in a pickle, young lady! I’m burning the midnight oil to come up with something that has traction to try to get this off the web. The only thing I’ve found that has the ability to stop something in its tracks is money – so I – no, you are offering a great deal! And you’d better pay, if and when I reach an agreement!”
“Yes, yes, of course, I will. Just make sure all the …”
“Copies are paid for? What do you think I am? A jackass?”
“No, no, nothing like that. I’m the donkey. Believe me, I’m well aware of that fact,” she said pausing. “Reginald?”
“What now?”
“Did you … I mean, did you see it?”
There was a sound of air released as out of a leaky balloon.
“Did I watch it? Of course, I watched it! How the blazes can I sue over something I haven’t seen! And you’re in trouble for that also since because of you, I had to watch Arthur Perry’s daughter getting her bottom spanked by the man I saw in my living room! The man that I saw in my dreams! He was the stranger I dreamt about. You wouldn’t talk to me about this yesterday, but I insist you do today or I’ll go to New York and drag you back to England by the scruff of your neck!”
“Reginald, I have no idea what you’re talking about! What dream? Have you been having dreams?”
Miranda became positively enamored with the idea that he’d ended up scaring himself. It would serve him right.
“I’m talking about the dream! At least I thought it was a dream … but now … Who is this man? Do you even know? You were so remarkably evasive last night about him having a name.”
“Reginald! Of course, I know! It’s just that …”
“Just that what?”
“Oh, alright! His name is Peter Adduné.”
“What? The name I told you to stay away from? And you go running into this vampire’s arms?”
“Reginald, do not start on this again. He is no vampire! At least not literally, anyway.”
“I disagree because it was that man that was in my study, telling me about the egg and what your father did!”
“Peter? I don’t understand … why didn’t you …”
“Tell you? When you’ve been listening so brilliantly to everything else I’ve said? And what could I tell you? That I had a dream about a man that blew the Sands of Time into the fire and allowed me to relive the past?”
“The Sands of Time?” Miranda muttered. “What on earth?”
“It’s a powder! And this is not about the methodology or scientific basis of whether or not it could happen because it did!”
“But you said it was a dream … and dreams are not real, Reginald.”
“Don’t you think I know that? And yet this one appears to be for that man is real! How do you think it is I would conjure up a vision of a man I’d never met? And give you a name that I’d never heard of? And warn you to stay the bloody hell away from anyone or anything named Adduné!”
Miranda sat blinking, trying to process what was being said. It was too much to take in. How could Reginald have such a dream?
“You’re actually saying that Peter appeared in your dream? I don’t understand … any of it … I just don’t …” she sputtered.
“Yes, he is one in the same! And I take it that he sought you out?”
“I suppose he did, but how did you know …”
“Why would you ask such an absurd question? Haven’t you been listening? No, you haven’t! That’s obvious! And all this time you’ve been assuring me that nothing’s wrong, never even deigning to give me the courtesy of at least informing me that you’ve run into this villain!”
“I only just … and I didn’t think …”
“Didn’t think is right! You dismiss what I’ve said as a mixture of fantasy and senility and go about your merry way. Might I remind you that there’s what Figgs and Pinckus said. Suppose that’s not good enough for you either! And then there’s what happened with Figgs’ widow.”
“What? What about his widow?”
“As if you’d care! She’s just another old woman as loony as I am apparently.”
“Reginald, that’s not fair!”
“It may not be fair, but it’s what you deserve. Miranda, you’re in danger. A great deal of danger. I have a feeling that this video is only the beginning. You’re in over your head.”
Miranda slammed her hand on the kitchen table. She’d made a mistake, but she would not give in to the stupid talk.
“Reginald, you are making this very difficult! You are my barrister! You are not an author and we are not writing a novel! So I insist you stop making up these stories! Yes, I slept with Peter Adduné. Father stole from his family. That is why he tracked me down, and because he did, I can assure you he is as much flesh and blood as you or I. But then I’m sure you can see for yourself if you’ve watched that film!”
“No, he is not what you think! You’re forcing me to blurt things out willy-nilly, but it’s the only way to get your attention. I think he murdered your father, Miranda. I think that he turned your father into a vampire.”
Miranda squeezed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. This was ridiculous. It was beyond ludicrous. She remembered her talk with Chase.
“Have you spoken to Chase about this … this vampire nonsense?”
“No, why? Has Chase said something? Has he been having dreams, Miranda? Have you?”
She paused considering her answer. She didn’t owe him the truth. He was the family barrister and didn’t need to know every intimate detail of her life even if he had watched that film. That was too much information in itself. She refused to reveal any more.
“No!” she lied. She refused to give in to these delusions. She needed to stop from pursuing this line of inquiry and get him back on the problem in question – the video. “No one has had any dreams other than you and those two gentlemen that are dead. And they’re not here to question, are they? So we don’t know what was really going on.”
“Miranda, I’ve known you from the day you were born and know well enough when you are not telling me the truth.”
“Are you saying I’m lying?”
“Yes!”
Egads, this was difficult. She didn’t like to lie and didn’t know if she wanted to push the issue. She hadn’t intended for this. She’d assumed that since he couldn’t see her, she’d be safe. She knew that Reginald used body language to ferret out deception. He was an expert at it, but how could he do it over the phone?
A surge of energy went t
hrough her. She was Arthur Perry’s daughter and she’d take this to the wall. She would not back down.
“Well, you’re wrong! I can’t tell you how I deeply resent you for simply not admitting you were misled and moving on, but no! Now you have the unmitigated gall to involve father! Why are you doing that, Reginald? Why?”
“Stick to your story then. I’ll stick to mine, for in my case it’s the truth. And you’ve got me so boiling mad that I will tell you the rest. I hadn’t intended to, because I knew it would upset you, but perhaps that’s what you need! To become upset and open up that thick skull of yours!”
“Reginald! You …”
“Shut that trap of yours and let me finish! Lord knows I’ve listened to you enough over these years.” Miranda fell silent. He was right about that. He’d always been there for her – always. “That’s more like it,” he said clearing his throat. “William Figgs’ widow Beatrice called me. Her husband had left me a note. You read it – well, one page of it, but there was more.”
“More? More of the note? Why on earth didn’t he just give you the whole thing?”
“Because he felt disloyal saying certain things. I don’t blame him considering what he had to say.”
“Which was?”
“That your father is a vampire.”
“What? Reginald have you lost your mind?”
“No, but apparently he’d lost his because of this. He said your father was the body in the coffin. The one at Weatherly. The one that Pinckus shipped to America. Don’t you see, Miranda? Peter Adduné must have killed Arthur and turned him into one of these … these creatures! It’s all about revenge, and he’s coming after you next!”
Miranda snorted derisively. Reginald had gone off the deep end. Believing such a story was preposterous.
“I’d say he already got me.”
“Stop joking!”
“Humor is about the only thing I have left.”
“Miranda, stop speaking such nonsense. You have your family, friends and me, your cranky old godfather who loves you like a daughter.”
“Fine. Then let me ask you a question. What proof do you have that what he says is true?”
Reginald paused. She heard the labored breath.
“I don’t. I only know that in my dreams there are two of them. I’ve been having dreams, Miranda. Horrible dreams. The same as Pinckus and Figgs. The same as Beatrice.”
Miranda’s dreams flashed through her mind. She’d been very wrong to wish them on Reginald. Him experiencing such horrid nightmares gave her no comfort at all.
”I am sorry, Reginald. Truly.”
“At least you sound sincere about it.”
“Of course, I’m being sincere! Do you think I’d lie to you?” she asked, her voice trailing off into a whisper. She felt a profound sense of guilt at having done so. Reginald deserved better than convenient falsehoods.
“I believe you know my answer to that one,” Reginald said waiting for a response that wasn’t forthcoming. “My dreams have steadily gotten worse. In them, there are two of them. There’s one that I now know to be Peter Adduné, and an older horrible one. I’ve never seen his face – only his black eyes. They follow me in my dreams and when I wake I can still feel them on me ….”
Miranda swallowed hard. It’d been the creature she’d been dreaming about. How could it be that they were sharing an identical dream?
“Reginald, stop!” she pleaded. She didn’t want to hear anymore. If she did, the truth would come tumbling out and she couldn’t allow that to happen. It would only feed the fantasy. She needed to end this – now.
“Miranda, please listen to sense. Please. This is only the beginning. He is not done with you.”
“I will listen to all the legal advice since you are the best there is. I will listen to you regarding love from now on. I’ve already decided to have all my suitors scrutinized by Tiffany, and I give you the privilege of performing a thorough background check! But under no circumstances will I listen to any more nonsense about vampires. Understood?”
“Understood,” Reginald answered through clenched teeth as he heard her disconnect the call.
“For now,” he threatened into the dead silence of being all alone.
CHAPTER 35
Bonita Charles waited for sleep. She had been awakened out of a light slumber by her husband readying for bed. She was glad that he’d started his preparations before midnight. It meant that he’d retire at a decent hour. He’d been going to sleep later and later these days – if at all. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he was afraid of going to sleep.
She turned restively and plumped up her pillow. Maybe it wasn’t as crazy an idea as she first thought. He had been experiencing fitful sleep and wretched dreams. He came out of them drenched with sweat and gasping for air, with a look she’d describe as sheer terror. She’d assumed he was having a problem – a problem he was keeping to himself. It was ridiculous – especially after all this time. They were a married couple; his problems were hers. She’d gently probed to find out what the trouble was, but he’d shut her out of what was going on. Whatever was disturbing him was off limits even to her – his beloved wife.
She wasn’t aware of anything dire happening within their immediate family so whatever it was, fell outside that boundary. She suspected it was Miranda – especially when coupled with the evidence of the past few of weeks. Mysterious phone calls and communications that went on long after he retired to his study. It meant he’d brought his work home with him and that was unusual. Within the last few days, the activity had swelled to a fever pitch. It even included loud moments that allowed her to hear bits and pieces of his conversation throughout the house. It was so atypical for her husband to raise his voice. He was so circumspect and in control. Only someone he loved being in peril brought that side out of her husband. She couldn’t help but wonder what Miranda had gotten herself into.
She had hoped this night would be different, but it hadn’t turned out that way. Reginald had been pulled away from his nightly grooming ritual by a very late phone call – a call he went downstairs to take. There were very few people that he would have even accepted a call from at this hour, and excluding family, Miranda topped that list.
She heard his footsteps on the staircase. She sat up when he came in the door. He was dressed in his pajamas, a silk robe tied around him. The leather fleece-lined slippers she’d bought him last Christmas were on his feet. She smiled from the fact that he always took the time to be so fastidious in his dress – even in times like this when something was clearly wrong.
“Oh, sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to wake you,” he apologized as she rose and gave him a soft peck on his cheek. He sat down heavily in the corner chair he used for reading. She went behind him – to massage his upper back and shoulders. It was where he held most of his tension – always had. For his birthday, she’d bought him a chair that performed Shiatsu by using a series of rollers. She thought it would aid him getting the kinks out, but he preferred the artistry of his wife’s long, delicate hands. The chair went unused and collected dust.
“That feels wonderful,” he murmured relaxing under her soft kneading.
She leaned down whispering in his ear.
“That’s what you always say.”
She punctuated her remark by kissing him again on his smooth, baby soft cheek. There was a soft fragrance coming from his skin. It came from a delicious rosemary and lavender soap that she’d purchased recently. The smell was refreshingly clean – and subdued enough to be manly.
“Reginald, do tell me what is going on?”
“Whatever do you mean, dear?”
“You know perfectly well what I mean, darling. You look so peeked. And you usually sleep like a bear, but not lately. A feather falling would disturb you. I’m worried, Reginald. Do you think an appointment with Dr. Martin would be prudent?”
“What on earth could he do except charge me an exorbitant fee to say I need to relax.” He tur
ned his head slightly and patted one of her hands now resting on his shoulder. “That’s all it is – stress.”
She’d been right – there was something bothering him. He was confessing to it with half-hearted feeble excuses. She knowingly nodded her head. It was as she thought.
“And that phone call you just took. Was it part of this … stressful situation?”
“Yes, Miranda has gotten herself into a bit of trouble.”
Bonnie’s hands halted their delightful course of his pressure points. As soon as his comment sunk in, they continued on their mission of undoing all the damage the past few days had wrought.
Adduné (The Vampire's Game) Page 51