Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire

by P. N. Elrod

  “You’re all right, laddie,” he told me, his voice husky with his own tears.

  That’s what broke it. That’s when I gave out with a breathy hiccup and truly wept. He held me and rocked me and stroked my hair and never once told me to hush, just kept doing that until I was at last able to stop. I finally sat up, blindly fishing for the handkerchief Jericho always left in one of my pockets. Father had one ready and put it into my hands. I blew my nose, wiped my eyes and unexpectedly yawned fit to crack my jaw.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he said genially. No odd blurring marred his features. He was himself again.

  “How did you know?”

  “When you came into the parlor looking like a drawn rope about to snap, the possibility occurred to me. I’ve seen it before and it’s no good trying to pretend it isn’t there. How do you feel?”

  “Not so drawn.”

  He must have seen that for himself, but was reassured to hear it confirmed. He went across to unlock his cabinet and poured out a bit of brandy, then locked up again right away. The habit forced on us by Mother’s sickness had ingrained itself in him in such a short time. He sat facing me in his favorite chair, the firelight playing warm over his face.

  “Well. Can you tell me all about it now?” he asked.

  I could. And did.

  It was easier than the previous tellings. I didn’t have to pretend to be brave. I didn’t have to lie. So much easier was it to be able to tell the truth. I left out one thing only: the part about drinking Drummond’s blood. At the time it had been my survival, but here in the light and peace of my favorite room, it seemed unreal, monstrous. I was not easy about it—especially the fact I’d enjoyed the taste so much—nor prepared to offer such a burden of knowledge to my dearly loved father. He had enough troubles on his mind.

  When I was done, he looked me over from top to toe and again I seemed to see myself through his eyes. There was worry there, of course, for my well-being, but I appeared to be strong enough to handle things now. There was also relief: that I was safely home and if not undamaged, then at least able to recover from it. “We’ve got the other fellow, Knox,” he said. “Nash put him into that blockhouse he had built last fall.”

  “Will there be a hanging?”

  “I don’t know. The man keeps saying he’s a soldier and thus a prisoner of war. Said he was doing his duty right and proper before his capture.

  “Oh? And just how does he explain the ransom note he thought he was delivering?”

  “Denies it ever was a demand for ransom. Claims he was told it was a request from you to ask for help getting home. The other men captured you by mistake and he’d come to fetch a horse to bring you back. He volunteered to risk capture himself in order to do you a good turn. Very aggrieved, he is.”

  “Has he convinced Lieutenant Nash of this tale?”

  “What do you think?”

  My answer lay in my return expression, and we shared a short, grim laugh.

  Father sipped his brandy, then sighed. “Tomorrow Nash will take him to Mrs. Montagu’s home for her and the servants to have a look at him. There are a few other places in the county to go to as well if she can’t identify him. He had no commission papers—”

  “A hanging, then.”

  “Quite likely. ’Tis the fate of thieves.”

  Silence fell upon us, lengthened and was so complete that I was able to hear to the distant kitchen where Mrs. Nooth supervised the dumping out of my bathwater. Things were quiet in the parlor by comparison, just Norwood talking low, though I couldn’t make out the words.

  “Is Nash still out looking for me?”

  I’d interrupted whatever gray thoughts had been floating between us. “What? Yes, I suppose he is. And in the wrong place. We were miles from where Beldon and Lord James said they’d found you. Oh, well, it’ll do him good. He wants the exercise, and if he shakes up a few rebels, all the better.”

  “What made you break off from him and come home?”

  “You. I trusted what you said in your note about trying to escape. Worked out that you’d have to find shelter for the day, but you’d come home as quick as you could after dark. Thought I should be here to check, to see if I was right, and I was. Didn’t expect that you’d hole yourself up like a badger in a burrow, though. Very clever, laddie.”

  “More like desperation. Wish the weather had been warmer, but if it had, then I’d have been without snowy cover altogether.”

  “That had me worried, that you’d be out in some open area for anyone to stumble over. Knowing what you’re like during the day, I’d feared you’d be taken for dead. There’d be misunderstandings, rumors—”

  “Me having to influence everyone all over again.” I shuddered. “No, thank you.”

  Father chuckled.

  I thought of something. “Do you think Nash will let me talk to Knox?”

  “To what purpose?”

  “I could get the truth from him.”

  He frowned for a time, knowing exactly what I meant. “A confession from him will mean his death for certain, Jonathan.”

  “At this point I think that’s his inevitable conclusion no matter what.”

  Another frown. More silence. Then, “Very well. A gift you have and a gift you should use. Let its use be for finding the truth. Besides . . . .” He trailed off; I urged him to continue.

  “ ’Tis only because I hate to admit it to myself, but I’ve a streak of vengeance in me. If he’s one of the bastards who caused Mrs. Montagu so much distress, then I’ll be there at dawn to put the rope ’round his neck myself.”

  My only surprise was in not being surprised at this declaration. Father was a gentle man, not given to making idle speech against others. He said what he meant, and that he should be this literal told me much about his deep perturbation for Mrs. Montagu’s misfortune.

  Father finished his brandy and asked if I was up to facing the rest of the household.

  “Only if there’s no fuss. I’ve had enough row to last me for months.”

  He could make no guarantee against that, but said I could leave whenever it became too much.

  This second attempt to rejoin their company was more successful. The pale blurs were gone here, too. Their faces were faces once more. Thank God.

  Elizabeth broke away from Norwood and came over to slip her arm around mine. “You had us so worried,” she told me.

  Apparently worried enough herself that in her relief she forgot about Mother. I shot a glance in that lady’s direction, but she wasn’t reacting to us at all. She wore her usual joyless expression, nothing more. Well, I suppose it was preferable to one of her insane tirades. She hadn’t had one of those for a while, certainly not since the night I’d “talked” to her. Perhaps she was building up to one. I hoped otherwise.

  “Yes,” said Cousin Anne. “Very worried. It must have been horrid for you.”

  This was about the fourth time tonight she’d expressed that sentiment. I’d heard the other three when I’d been soaking in the tub. I laughed now, more freely than I thought myself capable of, and assured her I was fine.

  Her gaze lingered on me. There was a touch more depth to it than before. I wondered if that was from her own growth from this unpleasantness or because we’d shared a few kisses. Perhaps both. I smiled, took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze to say everything’s all right. She tossed her head slightly, smiling back.

  Elizabeth made me sit in a comfortable chair and Anne asked if I wanted tea. I accepted a cup with lots of sugar and pretended to sip, but it was easy to avoid drinking when questions started flowing freely once more.

  Mrs. Hardinbrook had a strong interest in what the men had been like and what they had said.

  “No words fit for a lady’s ears, ma’am. Indeed, some of them made me blush.” This raised a laugh.


  Lady Caroline wanted to know why I hadn’t come home right away if I’d made my escape so early that morning.

  “Truth be told, I wasn’t in the best of condition. A bang on the head and rattling around in the back of a wagon for the worst part of fifteen miles—I was fair exhausted. I found a deserted shack and simply fell asleep for the day.”

  Norwood was curious as to whether the men had given any clues about where they’d come from.

  “Connecticut, for certain. Knox told them to take to a boat if they saw any trouble coming. I expect they’re there now, probably sitting in some rebel hostel and telling a different version of this story.”

  More laughter.

  “But we’ll find out the truth tomorrow,” I added.

  “How so, sir?”

  “I’m going to have a little talk with Knox.”

  “To what purpose? The man’s lied his head off from the moment he was taken.”

  I shrugged to show that that wasn’t my fault. “I think he’ll be truthful enough once he sees my face. Remember, he thinks I’ve been killed by his friends and no one the wiser. When I walk in on him the shock will turn him around, I’m sure.” Thus did I prepare others for what was to come. With my acquired gift, I had every confidence of winning a detailed story from Knox.

  “That should be interesting,” said Beldon. “May I come along and observe this miracle?”

  “I should welcome your company, Doctor, but would prefer a private interview with the fellow first.”

  He graciously accepted the sense in that.

  “May I be there as well?” asked Norwood.

  This must have been how Lieutenant Nash felt when, like it or not, the lot of us decided to go along with him to Mrs. Montagu’s. There was no good reason to refuse, though. Father would be there, and I trusted he’d intervene if any difficulty arose.

  “But tomorrow?” put in Lady Caroline. “Mightn’t it be rather soon for you? You really ought to rest a few days.”

  “I’d go tonight if I thought Lieutenant Nash would be there.”

  “You’re in such a hurry?”

  “There might be a chance to catch the other men once this one starts talking.”

  “But you just told us they’d be in Connecticut by now.”

  “True, but it doesn’t mean they’ll stay there. If they return, it would be useful to know where and when and be ready for them.”

  “Good heavens, yes,” said Mrs. Hardinbrook. “Why, they might even come here next, looking for revenge.” She seemed to find that idea to be both alarming and fascinating.

  I found it simply alarming and a very real threat. The thieves knew where I lived, apparently knew quite a lot about me. Had I brought this on myself by spending so many nights at The Oak? There it would be easy enough to learn the doings of all in the county under the guise of friendship with a flagon of ale to warm the conversation.

  Norwood bristled a bit at the lady’s fearful speculation for our safety. “They could certainly try, but they’d have the surprise of their lives if they did. Right, gentlemen?”

  He got general assent for an answer. I went along with the others to be sociable. Norwood’s interest in encountering excitement had bemused me before; now it had become something to bite my tongue over. I’d had more than my share, and knew it for a fool’s wish. A nice quiet life was all I desired. I wondered why, if he was so keen to find adventure, he did not join up with Howe’s army. Certainly there must be a place for titled volunteers wishing to serve their king. I could only think that he was reluctant to leave his sister on her own. Then there was Elizabeth. If he loved her as I loved Nora, then running off to play soldier should be the last thing on his mind.

  But I was fairly sure that he was a bit envious of me. He questioned me over and over about what had happened, eyes shining as he searched out every scrap of information from my memory. He was welcome to it, though I found no charm in any of my recollection. Perversely, the more I touched on the negative aspects of it, the greater his admiration rose.

  It was flattering, in its way, but wearing. He had no idea of the true cost. To have strangers indifferently attempt to destroy your life for their own gain is wholly shattering. Father understood the hurt my soul had suffered; Norwood did not.

  No, I thought, Lord James Norwood was better suited for something “safely” dangerous, more along the lines of riding to the hounds. There was always the chance of falling and breaking one’s neck, but if skillful and fairly lucky, one could return, invigorated, content that death had been bravely overcome. However, he could choose to ride or not. I hadn’t chosen to be kidnapped. That removal of choice was the single most important difference between the dangers.

  I could not see him going through what I had gone through and still emerge filled with the same sense of naive enthusiasm. Though he was nearing thirty, I wondered which of us was the older and decided it was me. Experience can be quite aging.

  Elizabeth came over, put a hand on his arm and said, “Really, Lord James, you’re positively exhausting my poor brother.”

  His attention went from me to her with (to my eyes) visible difficulty, but his face smoothly adjusted into a smile.

  Elizabeth picked up on the slow change, though. “I’m interrupting?”

  “Not at all,” he said. “And you’re right. I’m being an imposition.”

  We made mock protests and other such talk, then they drifted away to their favorite corner for more private converse. I watched them and then with suddenly kindled heat remembered Molly Audy.

  With all the other events filling my brain, my discovery of his visits to her had altogether been pushed aside. The incident and my questioning of Molly rolled to the front once more, leaving me flummoxed and fuming over what to do next.

  No happy solution presented itself beyond a base desire to break every bone in his body. But, as satisfying as this might prove to be, I had to reluctantly admit that what went on between them was not my business. If she found out, Elizabeth was more than capable of taking care of herself.

  If she found out.

  I could not be the one to tell her. Any interference on my part would be a most unwise and importune course to take.

  Still, if he upset Elizabeth with his actions, I’d be there for her, fists at ready.

  * * *

  The next night, Father, Beldon, Norwood, and I sedately rode into Glenbriar. Father and Norwood had already been there early in the day to sort things out with Nash. That worthy officer chose not to complain about their tardy report of my return home, for he was still in awe of Norwood’s title and wished to present himself in a good light. He managed to do just that by swiftly dispatching himself with a troop of men to the road where I’d been found. They eventually located the hovel where I’d been taken, but the place was bare of rebels. There was a wagon in the barn, but no horses and no sign of a boat. Nash, with his ever-acquisitive turn of mind, had confiscated the wagon, then ordered the burning of the house and barn.

  “Why on earth did you do that, sir?” asked Norwood with some justifiable mystification. The four of us were with Nash at The Oak, listening to the account of his day.

  “Because it’s one less sanctuary for them to use,” he replied.

  “But the owner of the property—”

  “Was not on the premises. A diligent search was made, I assure you.”

  “Seems to me,” said Father, “that you could have quartered some of your men there.”

  “Possibly, but I considered it to be too far distant.” From the pause preceding Nash’s statement, I could tell he hadn’t considered the idea at all until now.

  “Pity about that. If the rebels had decided to try returning, you’d have had them.”

  Nash reddened. “If they return, I’m sure the Suffolk militia will be able to deal with them.”

  This was met
with the kind of silence in which much is said. It was well known that the loyalty of Suffolk County was at best questionable, and that’s what we were thinking, including, belatedly, Nash.

  “I’d like to see this Knox fellow,” I said, before things grew too embarrassing.

  Nash had already agreed that I could have my private talk, though he would have guards standing ready outside. The memory of the two escapees last fall was yet with him, and even if he’d been made to forget who had helped them, he was not inclined to take further chances. Now he fairly leaped at my offered distraction and issued orders for the man to be removed and brought in from the blockhouse.

  “Where will you interview him?” asked Norwood.

  I deferred to Nash, who said, “This room will suit. The door is stout and the window too small for a fellow his size to squeeze through. Just remember that we’ll be out here if you want help with him.”

  I thanked him and then retired to a dark corner so Knox wouldn’t see me until it was time. Not that it was necessary; I could make him talk no matter what. This was for the benefit of the others.

  Soon four large soldiers marched Knox inside, their heavy steps thundering throughout the inn along with the clank and clink of chains. They shoved their charge in with me and came out again, slamming the door.

  He was not in the best of condition. His tough face bore some truly colorful bruises, and one eye had swollen shut. He moved stiffly, evidence of more bruising on the rest of his body. His clothes were more ragged than before and much dirtier. He tottered to the table in the center and dropped wearily into a chair. I had no pity for him. He and his cronies had been all too ready to murder me, and they’d certainly murdered others. If I could prevent them from continuing, well and good; I was glad to apply my special advantage.

  I stepped from the shadows and slipped into a chair opposite with the table in between us. Folding my hands before me, I looked at him and waited.