Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire

by P. N. Elrod

  “Yes, after Father, she’s quite the best, most sensible one in the family”

  “You do yourself a disservice, dear Jonathan.”

  “I think not,” I said, holding up my hand. There was still a trace of dried blood and plaster dust clinging to my skin, evidence of my loss of restraint.

  She had only a wry smile. “That’s natural frustration. I don’t know how you’ve held yourself together this long, but hold on just a little longer. We will get your boy back.”

  Such was her conviction and so strongly did she pass it to me that I almost thought myself under the spell of her influence again. It was enough to bolster me for miles more, until the dawn came creeping over the vast stretch of sky on our left, and we had to stop the coach so I could shelter within.

  Nora denied herself no available convenience in its special construction. Each bench opened up like a kind of long chest and might otherwise have been employed for the storage of travel cases. Nora had one of them lightly padded for her use, the pads containing quantities of her earth. Thus might she comfortably rest during the day. The other bench, though not so softly appointed, was cleared of the stores we’d thrown in that I might also have room to recline. It was a bit of a press because I could not really stretch out, but no more so than in my own traveling box. It was of no matter to me; with my head pillowed on a sack full of my own earth, I passed quickly into uncaring insensibility the moment the sun was up.

  * * *

  The coach was quite still when I woke, though I was sharply aware of sundry noises about me: the voices of men and women, the clop of hooves, the honking of disturbed geese and dogs barking. I cautiously raised the bench seat and peered out, giving a jump when I realized with horror someone was inside the coach. One glimpse of a dark figure crouching between the seats and I ducked, the lid slamming down with a thump, giving away my own presence.

  “We’re in Brighthelmstone, sir,” Jericho informed me in a calming, patient tone.

  My hair eased back into place on my scalp. I belatedly grasped the notion that he and the menacing figure were one and the same, and the man had only been waiting for me to waken as usual. “ ’Fore God, what a start you gave me.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  Lifting the lid again, I staggered to my feet, stepped out, and let it drop back into place.

  “What a row you make,” said Nora, sounding rather muffled from her own hiding place.

  To give her room, Jericho backed out of the coach. She emerged from her haven, looking less crushed than might be expected, though she fussed about her skirts. “Much more of this and I’ll take to wearing breeches,” she said, swatting at wrinkles. She gave up trying to flatten them and bade us a good evening. Jericho replied in kind; all I wanted to do was kiss her, which I did when the first chance presented itself. That pleasantry accomplished, I had a look through the open door, but could see little enough past Jericho; part of a muddy yard and what looked to be the windowless side of a large brick building made up the totality of our view. The coach’s closed and latched windows hid the rest. Nora sat on her bench and signed for me to take the other. Until we knew better, we dared not show ourselves yet.

  “What’s the news?” I asked Jericho. “Are we at the Bell?”

  He’d brought a lantern and set it on the floor between us. “We are, sir, and have been for quite some time. We’ve since learned from the innkeeper that a sitting room had been reserved for Dr. Marling and Miss Barrett by a well-dressed gentleman who called himself Mr. Richard.”

  I stiffened at the name. Was Clarinda indulging in some tangled attempt at humor or simply tormenting us? Probably both.

  “We’ve been resting there, waiting to hear something from Mrs. Fonteyn. Dr. Marling thinks the man might have been Captain Summerhill from your description of him.”

  “Perhaps Arthur Tyne is still too feeble for such errands; that or they prefer having Summerhill taking the risks.”

  Jericho lifted one hand to indicate his lack of knowledge on that point. “What matters most is for you and Miss Jones to remain unseen in the coach for the moment; the whole of this inn must certainly be under watch.”

  “We have a way of leaving without anyone knowing about it,” I reminded him.

  He nodded. “True, sir, but it will not be necessary; we’ll be departing shortly. This was left with the innkeeper not a quarter hour ago.” He presented me with a sheet of paper. I held it so Nora could read as well.

  “At your earliest convenience, do come and take the view at the Seven Sisters. The way is sure to be dark, so bring lots of lanterns and keep them lighted. Don’t go too near the edge between the fifth and sixth Sister, for the chalk crumbles easily. Be sure to bring your gift.”

  On the reverse side of the paper was a map and directions with a small circle to indicate our destination.

  “The Seven Sisters?” I asked after a moment’s study. “What’s that, another inn?” The markings and place names meant nothing to me.

  “They’re a series of chalk cliffs on this side of Eastbourne,” said Nora. “A long way for us, I fear.”

  “At least a dozen miles, according to the landlord, sir,” added Jericho.

  “Then what?” I said with no small bitterness. “A note telling us to turn around and go to Land’s End?”

  “Dr. Marling expressed a similar sentiment; however, Miss Elizabeth thinks their purpose in bringing us here may be to see how obedient we are to their orders. So far we’ve done nothing to merit reproach.”

  “Let us hope they think so, too,” I grumbled.

  Another cold night, another cold, jolting ride. Despite my complaining, I thought—rather, I fervently hoped—this would be the end of it at last. Surely Clarinda would be as anxious to collect the money as I was to rescue Richard. Besides, she might not want to press us too far lest we finally rebel and seek outside help.

  After we quit the Bell and finally Brighthelmstone altogether, we paused long enough for me to climb up to sit with the driver again. He had to go north a few miles to find and follow a thready east-west road through the downs. The softly rolling countryside held no beauty for me, but rather I imagined spies lurking in every fold of the land or clump of hedges. They could well be there, too, either Summerhill or some of his men, watching from a distance. The night was moonless and overcast, but by observing the driver I determined there was enough light for ordinary men to see by. The noise and movement of our coach and horses were visible against the pale chalky soil and dead grass; the lanterns were but an extra insurance for them. I kept my face well covered against any chance of recognition.

  * * *

  “Almost there, sir,” the driver announced, and I asked him to slow and stop the horses.

  The land ahead rose on either side into two great rounded hills with a well-defined valley between. In the near distance I spied more such formations, a large one to my right and several more of varying sizes undulating away to the left.

  “The Seven Sisters,” I said, making it half-question, half-statement.

  “If the map is right, sir. Can’t count ’em from here.”

  The wind was high, carried a strong sea smell and was, as ever, cold. It pounded at my ears and would have torn my hat away if I hadn’t already tied it fast with my woolen scarf.

  Not a place I care to linger, I thought as I clambered down from my perch. The others came one by one out from the coach and stood with me.

  “Do you see anything?” Elizabeth asked, directing her query equally between Nora and myself.

  We stepped away from the lanterns on the coach and carefully looked about.

  “Nothing and no one,” Nora answered after a moment.

  I pointed at the lowest part of the little valley ahead. “There’s something white.”

  “White?” asked Oliver, stepping forward. “Like a rag?”

  “I
can’t quite make it out. Who’s for having a better look?”

  They all were, it seemed. Oliver and Jericho carried lanterns while Nora and I led the way, with the coach slowly following our little party. We trudged as best we could over the uneven ground, until the white object became more clear. Someone had gone to considerable trouble building up a substantial cairn using chalk shards gleaned from the immediate area. Just over a foot high at its peak and several feet across, a length of white cloth had been placed in its midst, well anchored so as not to blow away.

  The sea sound came to me now, strong and unexpectedly loud. The land, even in this depressed point, slanted up and away from us, cutting off the view beyond. I walked past the cairn and abruptly halted, realizing I was close to the brink of a fearful drop. Far past the ragged edge of eroded chalk was the vast restless shadow of the sea, dark gray under a gray sky.

  “I’d say this was the place,” said Oliver, catching up.

  “Have a care,” I told him, stepping back several paces and holding out one hand as a warning. “The earth is badly crumbled here. Clarinda mentioned it in the note.”

  “So she did,” he said, frowning. “And very decent of her, I’m sure. Now what?”

  I looked left and right up at the crests of the hills, half expecting armed men to appear and come bearing down on us like a barbarian hoard.

  “Jonathan, we’ve found something,” Nora called, drawing us back.

  Oliver’s circle of light joined theirs where Elizabeth and Jericho stared at the cairn. I followed the line of their gaze to the white rag, which was not held in place by the weight of the chalk, but from having one end tied to a partly buried leather pouch.

  “It must be theirs,” said Nora. “That hasn’t been left out in the weather.”

  Jericho started to drag it clear, grunting when it caught on something. He freshened his grip and pulled hard. It came free, at the same time revealing the impediment. The pouch had a long carrying strap, and the strap was wrapped around a man’s arm.

  Thus did we discover Arthur Tyne’s body.

  * * *

  The grim disinterment did not take long; we all worked at it. Shaken as we were after the first terrible shock, the activity was necessary to keep from thinking too much, or so it was for me. My worry of the moment was mostly for Elizabeth and Nora, on how this might affect them—until I came to understand they were more concerned over my well-being than their own.

  “Shot,” said Oliver after a brief examination. “Clean through the heart.”

  “Why would they kill him?” asked Jericho, brushing dust from his hands.

  They looked to me. As though I had any answers. “Perhaps he slowed them down.”

  “Or Clarinda didn’t need him anymore,” said Elizabeth. “Or this Captain Summerhill was more to her liking.”

  “Whatever the reason, they wanted us to find him, to know how-how easily and how willing they are to kill.”

  Oliver stood. “Clarinda’s not going to let them touch Richard.” He said it firmly, as though he believed it.

  Any reply I made would have either been a lie of agreement or throwing the hope he meant to impart back in his face. Instead, I gestured at the leather pouch. “Anything in it?” I asked.

  Jericho plucked it up and pushed back the thing’s flap. “Yes! Some paper . . . “ He hurriedly unfolded it, holding it flat against the wind so we could read.

  “Put the gift in the bag, then throw it over the cliff. There’s a village about a mile east of this point with a path down to the beach. Go there, then come west again. R will be waiting for you if you still want him. Use great care and caution lest harm befall you.”

  I left my lantern and tore back to the cliff. The closer I got to the edge, the more perilous the footing. I didn’t care. Oliver called out, but I chose not to listen. The last few feet I fell to my hands and knees and crept up to the fragile brink.

  Oh, but it was a well-considered spot for them. From this more immediate vantage I saw how the Sisters, a series of hills overlooking the sea, seemed to have been sliced down the middle by a giant’s knife to reveal their chalky vitals. The knife had been a jagged thing, for the cliff sides rose high in long irregular vertical slashes, marred with many cracks and few if any ledges, impossible to climb up or down. At their base far below ran a wide strip of beach, covered with fallen debris from the cliffs, broken stones, seaweed, and tidal flotsam.

  On that beach I spied several figures, a boat and, waiting out in deeper water, a small ship.

  “What is it?” Oliver demanded. He also dropped to his hands and knees, crawling the remaining distance to join me. “What do you see?”

  “They’re down there,” I said. “The lot of ’em. There’s their ship. Do you see it?” I pointed.

  He squinted. “I think so. Where are they?” A pause as I pointed again. “No, sorry, can’t make out a thing in this murk. Damn good luck for us that you can. Is Richard—?”

  “I’m looking.”

  The figures huddled near the boat, which had been dragged up onto the beach. I saw several men, then a woman sitting on one of the larger rocks—Clarinda. My heart jumped right into my throat, for close against her breast she held a child-sized bundle.

  “God, he’s down there! She has him!”

  His hand fell hard on my shoulder, keeping me from going right over. “Steady on, Coz. Look at this carefully first before you go charging in.”

  “Your light—hold it up so they know you’ve come.”

  “All right, but I’ll remind you they might want to blow my head off.”

  “I don’t think so . . . yes, that’s it! That’s stirred them, they’re moving about, pointing up at us.”

  “They’ll recognize you.”

  “Hardly—all they can see is your light and perhaps some silhouettes, y’know. That’s why she wanted us to carry lanterns. Hah! One of ’em has a dark lantern; he’s opening it—”

  “Yes, I see it swinging, a signal for me I suppose. Hope to God it is them and not a pack of smugglers going at cross purposes with us.”

  The others came up with Elizabeth in the lead. “Is it Richard? Is it?”

  Oliver looked over his shoulder. “I can’t see him, but Jonathan can. Stay back now.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “He’s too far away to tell,” I answered. “It’s diabolic. You throw them the money, then by the time you find a way down the cliff to get to Richard they’re on their ship and heading for France.”

  “If they leave him behind,” she said, putting into words one of my countless fears.

  “They will, whether they’ve planned it or not.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That they’ll be feeling safe from attack thinking none of us can get down this cliff. The last thing they’ll expect is for someone to turn up in their midst and take him away. I’ll be on them and out before they know what’s happened.”

  “You’ll be . . . but it’s too danger—oh! Never mind. None safer here than you and Nora.”

  “True, but I will be careful, dear Sister, if you’ll do the same for me.”

  “Gladly, but for God’s sake tell us what you’re planning.”

  My brain fairly hummed with ideas now that I had a definite and visible goal to go after. “Oliver, I’ll want you to shout at them and get them to come closer to the foot of the cliff. Say that you’ve got the money and for them to be ready when you throw it down, but instead of the money, I want you to fill the pouch with the rocks from the cairn.”

  He grinned. “They won’t like that.”

  “Indeed. But if, God forbid, things go wrong, we may still bargain with them. I want all their attention on you. Distract them as much as you can, get their hopes up—it will be that much more of a frustration to them when they find their treasure is a false one.”
/>
  “But won’t it further endanger Richard?”

  “No, because by then I’ll have him. You keep them busy for as long as you can and give me the time to slip in close and get to him.”

  “But Clarinda will have them on you first thing.”

  “No doubt, but after ten paces they won’t know me from the rest of the shadows. This darkness is in my favor; I’ll be able to run where they can only stumble. The lot of you need to have your pistols ready. A few shots and—”

  Oliver shook his head, outraged. “And chance shooting you or the boy? I think not! We can’t see a bloody thing from up here and could hit one of you by accident.”

  “I’ll direct your fire,” said Nora. She looked at me. “I assume you want them busy ducking while you get away, because it’s not likely we’ll any of us be able to hit someone on purpose under these circumstances.”

  “Exactly, a few shots straight down the cliff should be enough to send them scurrying for their boat, though I’d be well pleased if you should happen to drop one or two of ’em by accident. Once you see me get Richard, you open up and distract them from pursuit. If they were fools enough to give us the high ground, then we’d be fools not to use it. If they shoot back, with the distance and the dark you should be fairly safe, but keep your heads low, and be sure to put out the lanterns. Right, then.”

  My sudden energy to act was contagious. Jericho and Oliver hurried to the coach to get the pistols and powder. Elizabeth began putting rocks into the pouch.

  With a hand on my arm, Nora stayed me from helping. “Remember he won’t vanish with you. You won’t be able to bring him up the cliff in the same manner of travel you’ll use to descend.”

  Damnation, but I wouldn’t. “Then I’ll make for that village in the note. Leave the riding horses here and send your driver ahead with the coach. You can catch up with us later.”