Out of My Grave

by Stephanie O'Hanlon

  I didn’t like this tone he had around Vincent. It was stupid because he was entirely right. Vincent was behind all the deaths, all the missing girls.

  “Well, I am sure Doctor Harding is correct. We should be more careful,” Vincent humored him convincingly. “And as promised, a chaperone will be present, one of my staff.”

  I nodded and kissed my father on the cheek, turning to take Vincent’s arm and leading him out. I wasn’t going to stand there and listen to any more of my father’s tone. His dislike for Vincent was obvious…a little too obvious for my liking.

  When we sat in the carriage, I turned to Vincent across the way. “So, you could not get tickets?”

  He smiled. “No I could have, but I did not feel like going to the ballet. You smell lovely by the way.”

  I smiled coyly. “Why, thank you. I knew you would like it.”

  He frowned. “I also like your gown…and you are wearing the necklace I gave you.” He pointed towards the glittering diamonds of the heart.

  I looked down to it. “Yes. I decided to embrace my femininity tonight.”

  “Your seductions are a little obvious, Annalee,” he said, a little smirk at the corner of his mouth.

  I gasped. “My what?”

  “Oh, come now. Why else would you continue to wear pink? Is it not normal for a young lady to switch her outfit and change the color to suit the occasion?” He turned to look out the small window, but turned back. “You know of my liking for the color on you and a plus is I bought it for you. I have purchased everything you are wearing aside from your cloak. I know how you dislike wearing those things I bought for you, as you are not one for material possessions. You have said so on several occasions. You complain about it often that I buy you things. Why wear them suddenly?”

  I was completely shocked. He was able to deduce in a manner of seconds my intentions. I was completely dumbfounded. I couldn’t form words at all.

  He laughed. “Annalee, I am actually flattered but you are trying too hard. You know you will get your way. You have no need for the extra effort.”

  I didn’t know whether to smile or not, though I liked how he said I would get my way. But what was his idea of ‘my way’? I am sure my way was much different from what he thought.

  We rode in silence the rest of the way to his manor. Well, I was silent. He continued to make jokes about my now failed attempt at seduction, making me feel like an idiot. Though they were off-handed comments, he would jibe but correct himself, saying something complimentary, something about how I could easily have him without so much as a word.

  We arrived. His servants laid out my dinner for me as Vincent walked over to a new piano in the corner of the room by the fireplace and the window, replacing the small table that once stood there. He took off his crimson frock coat to reveal a red waistcoat that shone by the light of the flames from the fireplace beside him.

  “When did you get that?” I said as I pointed to the piano. The boy from my previous visits, Jacques, helped me to my seat.

  Vincent sat down behind it. “It just arrived from Paris, the last of my things to be brought over.”

  He began to play at the keys, his hands floating on the keys, the beautiful music they produced making its way over to me at the table.

  I smiled. I didn’t know he could play such music. Jacques placed a plate on the table, warily looking over us, looking tired, drawn and worn. I smiled to him warmly. “Thank you.”

  Vincent’s voice boomed over the pounding of the keys. “That is all, Jacques.”

  The boy bowed before looking at me and examining me, turning and running out of the room quickly, leaving us alone.

  I turned towards Vincent. “You scare that poor boy.”

  “As I should. He knows his place.” A piece of hair escaped his ribbon once again, falling into his face.

  “Does he know of what you are?” I asked.

  “I am sure he has deduced it by now. He is the newest of my servants. I only attained him when I moved here. He was owned by a very well off man who taught his servants well. He taught Jacques well.” He continued to play, not looking to his hands as they danced along the keys, the only thing visible from my seat being his strong arms. “He is only a boy. I am sure he does not have the means to cause any trouble, though I am wary of him.”

  I frowned as I stood from my seat, walking over to him. He stopped playing, looking me over.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  I smiled, sitting beside him on the bench. “Why must something be wrong? I just want to be near to you.” I looked down to the ivory keys and stroked them, feeling how soft they were, how they shone in the firelight. It was obvious it was an antique. How long had it been in Vincent’s possession?

  He looked over to me, reaching out for my hand and grabbing it gently, pulling it towards him as he leaned into me, quickly pressing his lips against mine.

  I almost felt like smiling, his words of me getting my way ringing in my head.

  My eyes opened wide as I felt his hand on my thigh up my gown, extremely close to my most private parts. His warm hand was on my skin, softly caressing it, his kisses feeling much the same, a soft caressing.

  He pulled away from me, standing and walking around the bench in front of the piano, standing to my right. He motioned for me to stand, which I did, his left hand going to my back, his right scooping me up under my legs. He carried me through the dining room, up the wooden staircase and down a corridor until he stopped at the second door on the right.

  We entered the room, a large dark wash wooden four poster bed sitting in the middle of the wall to the left, right across from the door. It was covered with the finest red silk linens, a stark white coverlet and matching pillows all over it. My eyes widened as I realized we were in Vincent’s bedchamber.

  Vincent put me down at the footboard of the bed, quickly throwing the pillows off it before he ripped off his waistcoat and tossed it carelessly on the floor.

  He became even more passionate, teetering on the brink of vicious. It made my heart race as I watched him.

  He stepped forward, kissing me, helping me undress, which was no easy task. He did it with preternatural speed, getting me down to my shift. He dealt with his blouse, tossing it off as well, his bare white chest glimmering from the light of the fireplace. I had to look away, but only for a moment, since my eyes greedily sought out the naked flesh. I couldn’t look away when he removed his stockings…and his breeches.

  Vincent was completely naked before me, something I had only imagined in the confines of my mind. He slowly bent down, grabbing the bottom of my shift, pulling it up slowly. I raised my arms as he took it off completely, now being just as naked as he was. There was nothing between us…it was just flesh on flesh.

  Vincent picked me up again, putting me down on the bed, getting on it, and then on top of me, his body pushing into mine. I was in a great deal of pain, I even wanted to ask him stop, but I couldn’t find my voice. Instead my nails dug deep into his back, pulling him closer to me as our lips wrestled together.

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Vincent’s body went completely stiff, freezing on top of me.

  “Yes?” he asked, his voice coming out strained.

  A meek voice came from the other side of the door. “I am sorry to disturb you, Sir…” It was Jacques.

  “What is it?” Vincent’s voice boomed.

  “You have received a letter and…I was inquiring as to when you want the carriage ready for my lady.”

  “Fine! Fine! I will…be with you in a moment.”

  Vincent’s head dropped, shaking it. He seemed to be waiting, perhaps waiting for the boy to leave, his eyes on the bed, instead of on me.

  “Oh, Annalee, this was a mistake,” he said breathlessly.

  I didn’t think it was.

  I put both my hands at the side of his face, turning him towards me. I stared into his eyes for a moment before I pulled myself up to meet his lips, which he return
ed at first romantically, then passionately.

  We only rested a little while before we made love yet again, this time without any interruptions, which was how it should have been in the first place. I had a feeling that Jacques did so on purpose…perhaps he knew that Vincent could easily be brought out of his emotions and second guess himself. Did he hear our conversations? I saw why Vincent was wary of him.

  Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, his breeches on as he grabbed his blouse from the floor. I couldn’t help smiling, though I was sleepy, watching his back flex, the muscles all alight from the glow of the fireplace.

  He put on his blouse, turning to me. “Are you tired?”

  I nodded. “A little.”

  He climbed on the bed, over to me, lying beside me. He looked into my eyes before he leaned forward, pressing his lips against my ear. “I love you, Annalee.”

  I smiled, resting my forehead against his shoulder, taking in a warm gust of his cologne, almost wanting to cry. They were the words I was longing to hear for so long.

  Vincent helped me get cleaned up, back into my gown and presentable. The carriage was ready on time for me to be returned home, acting like I never made love with Vincent. I certainly didn’t want my father to think I had done such a thing, especially since he was not happy with my choice. Not that I really had much of a choice in who I fell in love with.

  Vincent accompanied me home, this time instead of sitting across from me he sat beside me, holding me close as I tried to keep my eyes open. My head fell to his chest and he let his head rest on mine as my eyes began to close, taking in his cologne.

  I remember his voice slowly drifting in my ears before my eyes closed. “You can fall asleep.”

  Vincent gently roused me a few minutes before we approached my home. He kissed me one last time in the privacy of the carriage before he helped me out and up to the door.

  It was a sweet farewell, both of us on our best behavior as Bess opened the door just as we approached the stoop.

  Bess smiled to Vincent. “Thank you for seeing her home safely.”

  He nodded. “The pleasure was all mine.”

  I smirked, shaking my head lightly, tiredly. And mine as well.

  * * * *

  I awoke the next morning, feeling more than just happy. I felt bruised, I ached, but there was a ridiculous smile on my face. Not because I had made love with Vincent—because Vincent told me he loved me. He could have simply told me he loved me with a few sweet kisses and that would have been perfection to me as well.

  I made my way down the staircase when I saw a familiar person standing beside the table.

  “Dale?” I smiled, running up to him

  He smiled tiredly, as if seeing me saddened him. “Hello, Miss Harding.”

  “What are you doing here?” I was actually happy to see him. I hadn’t heard much about him and what I had heard was not good news. He appeared the same as always, perhaps a little down though maybe a little wiser, his dark brown frock coat and matching breeches familiar, though he seemed to wear it differently.

  “Your father requested an audience with me. I take it you are feeling well? You look…happy.” He seemed upset with that fact, though he was right. “Things are going well with Mister Moor, I take it? I heard of your entering a courtship with him.”

  “Yes, things are lovely,” I said, nodding. “I honestly do not think my father is as happy as I am with the choice I made in Vincent, but he is still respecting my choice. I have not seen you in a while, most have not. I hear you have been quite scarce around town.”

  I could not help smiling, though I didn’t know why. It was not a good thing he was virtually non-existent in people’s lives now he wasn’t with me.

  “I have been helping my father out with his business. It has been busy.” He gave an uncomfortable smile.

  “What about your schooling?”

  “It holds little or no interest for me anymore,” he said coldly.

  My brow furrowed. “Oh.” I looked around the room awkwardly, finally feeling uncomfortable, the same as he was. “So, are you going to Peter and Deirdre’s party this evening? I believe it is being thrown by Sean.”

  “Oh, I may make an appearance. I am still not sure on my plans.”

  My eyes moved about the room nodding, since I really did not have a response for him.

  There was silence in the room until my father walked in moments later. I felt a wash of relief when I saw him, hoping he would save me from such an awkward situation.

  “Ah, hello Dale…Poppet, you are awake,” he said, looking at me strangely.

  I looked down to my white gown, examining myself, wondering if there was something on me. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Bess assured me you were home early, but I assumed you would have slept late, being Saturday.” He continued to look at me strangely, as if I was an imposter or something was seriously wrong.

  I shrugged lightly. “Why waste the day?

  “Hmm,” he said, his top lip curling up his mustache as he nodded his head. “What were you two talking about? I hope I was not interrupting something.”

  “Oh, no…nothing at all. I was just asking Dale if he was going to the engagement party tonight.”

  “I suppose you are going with Mister Moor.” My father looked to me unimpressed.

  I saw Dale swallow harshly as his eyes were to the floor, uncomfortable again.

  “Yes. The invitation was for the two of us,” I said, slightly annoyed. “You know, I am really getting tired of the tone you take when you speak of Vincent.”

  My father looked to me, surprised. “I do not think this is the time, Annalee—”

  “No, this is the perfect time—”

  “That is enough!” My father’s voice boomed throughout the room. I nearly jumped back from it. He cleared his throat. “That is enough, Annalee. We will speak of this later.”

  I stood for a moment, his eyes meeting with mine, making me go silent. I was still annoyed. Why did he dislike Vincent so much? What was it about him my father found so threatening? If only I had the strength to say to him Vincent and I were in love…real love, romantic love. I wanted to be with Vincent forever, though, I was unsure of which forever I was speaking of.

  I relished in how everything was now different. Love makes everything different.

  My new-found happiness seemed to sicken those around me, I was aware of it. I suppose I should be more honest and say my father was sickened by it. Bess seemed more than happy in my choice of Vincent. Vincent was right, she did like him. I wished my father felt the same.

  I figured my father was angered that his day off—the day he was going to spend with me—was interrupted by my affections for Vincent. He was happy I had a smile on my face, though after a while, it got tiring and he knew why I was smiling.

  I stayed in the sitting room while he spoke to Dale for quite some time, though I had no clue about what. I didn’t understand why Dale was there, after all, my father wasn’t his biggest fan. Though at the same time, he liked him better than Vincent, I suppose.

  The day flew by, a blur before my eyes. My thoughts were filled with nothing but Vincent, that thought of what forever could possibly mean. Would I grow old and he stay young, watching me die? Or, would he make me as he was, living together literally for all eternity? I realized that no matter how we played off to other people about being a normal couple, we were far from it. But, I couldn’t help being obsessed with him. He was a drug to me.

  Stuck in a small deep space all my life, I was always told I could not do the things my heart desired, but with Vincent I could do them all. It was spontaneous. Nothing was planned out like everything else in my life. There was no boring routine.

  I left the house ready for the evening in my robe à l’Anglaise, a blue striped open robe that closed at the top, center front and then sloped away to the sides, leaving a triangular gap that had a simple white stomacher. The petticoat was plain white silk, a fichu around my shoul
ders, the ends crossed over at my chest then brought through my arms and tied at the back with a bow.

  My heels of my slippers clicked on the ground as I approached the carriage, the driver putting his hand out to help me inside. I looked around the empty compartment to see Vincent wasn’t waiting for me.

  “Where is your master?” I asked, taking my seat.

  The man adjusted his hat on his head, throwing his cloak over his shoulder, the white fabric of lining of it shining in the light. “He had business to attend, Miss. He is getting ready as we speak and is awaiting you.”

  I nodded as the door closed, the carriage bouncing as he jumped up to his spot, the horses galloping off as the whip sounded.

  After a silent ride, the coach stopped and I got out at Vincent’s home, turning to the driver. “I will fetch him. We will be out in a moment.” I smiled to him as I turned and walked into the house.

  I walked inside the dining room, looking around. There was no one there and the fire was dying down. I made my way through the large house, making my way up the staircase, the parlor, which was the first door on the left, and the next, which was Vincent’s office. I also passed by the library, the first door on the left, finding Vincent’s bedchamber, which was before another staircase that led down into the kitchen, servants quarters and servants entrance.

  I saw the door to the bedchamber was slightly open, the fire dancing beyond it. I walked inside to the glow of the fireplace, which only cast some light, the window covered in heavy drapes.

  “Vincent?” I called out.

  I scanned around to see him standing by the fireplace, his back to me, just wearing his blouse and dark, plush violet breeches.

  “Oh, there you are,” I smiled. I began to walk closer to him, until his voice seemed to break the room and I stopped.

  “You are early.” He kept his back to me.

  I walked over to him. “The carriage came at the right time.”

  He turned towards me, looking at me. I put out my hand to touch his face but he flinched away from me.

  “What is wrong?” My brow furrowed in confusion, a slight pain aching in my stomach. Was it as I feared and he had changed his mind? What about the night before…?