🕸 XV 🕸

After breakfast, our staff gathered our things and Maggy and I were set to part from Longroper manor. The visit was intended to last three or four days. But with the Earl’s new engagement to Lydia, there was no point for us Vineharths to continue staying at the manor.

After all, the whole purpose of the visit was for Maggy to court the Earl. Little did any of us know that she had failed before she even began. And much to my own ignorance, Maggy’s heart had already chosen her future husband.

Our parents were likely to call the whole trip pointless. But for Maggy and I we gained much on this excursion. Maggy, fearful and anxious of the future, had gained the bravery to tell our parents the truth.

As for me . . .

I gained a friend in Miss Easter. Had much fun and excitement. And gained a romantic partner in Lurkson. All and all, for a single day trip, it was wondrously dreadful.

Our convoy had lined up outside of the manor before noon. Maggy was eager to leave and reach the train station before sundown. I considered begging her for us to stay another day or two. But Maggy was fretting over the future and wanted to charge head first into the setting sun.

“Will you at least give me a moment to say farewell to my Lurkson?” I asked Maggy as she entered our coach.

“He is already your Lurkson, is he?” asked Maggy with a twinge of jealousy. “It has only been a day, Gothia.”

“Yes, I gained a courtship within a solitary day,” I said.

“I hope my true love can be established as easily,” said Maggy.

“True love is a mysterious and dark wonder,” I said with a shrug.

“And also absolutely dreadful, yes?” asked Maggy with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at her because that was my word and she was not using it properly.

Lurkson approached me outside the front entrance. I stared down at the gravel driveway before looking up at him. Deja vu took hold of me and I felt as if I was reliving some distant memory.

“You are leaving then?” asked Lurkson, putting on a sad smile.

“Well, no, we just have our coaches at the ready because we are to have a race,” I said sarcastically.

“Mmm, I hope someone crashes,” said Lurkson as the sadness left his smile.

“Mmm, yes, that would be dreadful,” I said and we chuckled.

We then exchanged mailing information and made arrangements for our correspondence. I planned to write Lurkson as often as I could. I wished to smother his mailbox with my dark love.

“And one final thing before we part, Gothia,” said Lurkson.

He then waved to the maids. Miss Easter was amongst the staff and she held a painting covered by a cloth. I was so distracted by Lurkson that I completely missed her with the painting.

“You are being quite generous to our Madame Gothia, Lurky,” said Miss Easter before handing the painting to Lurkson.

“You agreed that a parting gift was in order, Raven,” said Lurkson.

“I meant giving her a bit of a snog or a smooch,” said Miss Easter.

“Now who is being too generous,” said Lurkson. “Give it all away and you leave nothing for her desires to drive her to write.”

“Speak for yourself,” said Miss Easter before she walked away.

She gave a wink but not to Lurkson or I. I glanced at our staff’s coach and Kathryn flashed a surreptitious smile at Miss Easter. Maggy and I were not the only ones who gained something on this trip.

Lurkson presented the painting but kept the cloth over it.

“Are you offering a piece from your mother’s collection?” I asked.

“You are the first besides myself who understands her tortured soul,” explained Lurkson. “And I look forward to you accompanying me to visit her at the sanitarium.”

“I too look forward to the experience of being in a sanitarium and meeting your dear mother,” I said. “So which painting are you offering?”

Lurkson then unveiled the painting.

It was the one with the giant, the lighthouse between his legs, and the maidens all over the phallus lighthouse.

My jaw dropped as I said, “No, Lurkson. That is your mother’s magnum ops. I could not possibly rob such an important piece from the collection.”

“You are not robbing it, Gothia,” said Lurkson with dark seriousness. “You are becoming my mother’s first patron. And you admired this piece so much that I thought you should have it.”

“Oh Lurkson, you do spoil me,” I said. “I will be sure to find a proper place for it at my family’s library.”

“Mmm, a proper incentive for me to visit you and judge its placement in your library,” said Lurkson.

I had Kathryn take the painting and carefully store it on my coach. Lurkson and I then shared a kiss. It was sweet and gentle and more mature then the passionate displays we shared earlier. But we were taking our relationship with more seriousness and effort.

And also the absence would make our black hearts burn with purple flames for our next meeting.

I then entered my coach and we took our leave. Lurkson followed after the coaches. He played his violin which I could still hear even with the cacophony of the coach. I watched him and listened until he became a distant speck and his music was out of earshot.

“Will you help me concock a speech for our parents before we reach home, Gothia?” asked Maggy. “My mind is so busy with too many things that words are failing me.”

“Just tell them you love Young Deacon Gloombright and you are to have his child,” I said. “Be forward and blunt. No sense beating around the bush.”

“They are going to be absolutely livid,” said Maggy.

“Will they? The Gloombrights have more wealth than most nobility,” I explained. “Marrying into wealth is not a step down compared to marrying into upper ranks. If anything, I would argue it would be a step up and a boon to our family.”

“Yes well, I am fortunate to have fallen for a man who has much fortune,” said Maggy.

“The gods of Oylimpia smile on you, dearest Maggy,” I said.

“Oh, Gothia, you and your ancient mythology fixation,” said Maggy. “It would not kill you to read something more contemporary.”

“What? I like the classics,” I said with a shrug. “They are so positively dreadful.”

“Yes and your use of that word is getting most tiresome,” critiqued Maggy. “Why not use a word like hideous or horrendous or grisly?”

“Grizzly? Is that not a bear?” I asked. “Oh, come forth Hercules and slay the Invictus Bear!”

Maggy and I giggled and she said, “If it is invictus then how does Hercules slay the bear?”

I shrugged and we laughed until we struggled to breath.

🕷

We were an hour into our travels until suddenly our coach stopped. Maggy and I observed that another coach had parked along the road. It had lost a wheel and men were trying to repair it.

I could not help but hear the familiar song of “Athena Birth From Zeus’ Skull” in the distance. After our staff gave us the all clear, Maggy and I ventured out to meet the passengers of the fallen coach. We then discovered that the coach belonged to nobility.

Our staff offered assistance. And as the coach was being repaired, Maggy and I followed the violin with Kathryn watching over us, armed with a sword. Skullduggery was not in the air yet a noble family traveling could not be too careful.

Maggy and I found the source of the music. It was a thin and tall redheaded woman dressed in a black leather dress that I would kill for. Her violin was bone white and its music was as beautiful as the song of sirens.

Upon closer look, the woman had black lipstick and dark purple eyeshadow. I envied her at first glance. She was an idol of the dark style that I so wished to master. Maggy introduced herself to the woman but the redheaded violinist continued to play.

I knew what was happening. The violinist was enthralled by her own playing. And it was rude to interrupt any musician while they were engaged with their music. I waited until she concluded “Athena Birth From Zeus’ Skull” to introduce myself.

“I am Madame Gothia Cordelia Vineharth,” I said as I curtsied. “And this is my sister, Lady Magnolia Staria Loretta Vineharth. And may I say, your playing was like Hades marching from the underworld to retrieve Persephone.”

The violinist smiled and bowed to me. “I thank you for the compliment. I am Lady Patricia Wex Tamerin Hallowvale.”

“I have heard of the Hallowvales,” said Maggy. “Poets and musicians that rose to nobility for their contribution to the arts.”

“Yes, I am very fortunate to have music in my blood,” said Patricia as she glanced at Maggy. Her eyes then swiveled to look back at me. “And do you play?”

“The cello,” I said as I held back my urge to slap her. She was being subtly rude to my Maggy. A fellow artist or not, no one is rude to my Maggy. “So, I noticed you are heading in the direction of Longroper manor. Are you paying the family a visit?”

Patricia then smiled in a wicked and disgusting way.

“Why yes, I am,” she said. “Our family has close ties with the Longropers and I am due for a visit to see . . . a particular person.”

A lump caught in my throat. I could feel Maggy’s eyes on me. Kathryn kept her distance and remained in the background. The gods aided me in that moment and I held steady.

“Would this particular person be Master Lurkson Bram Dorian Longroper?” I asked.

Patricia’s smile lessened as she said, “Why yes, Lurkson would be that person. He and I learned the violin from the same tutors. And he is my muse.”

“Oh really? I was not aware that Master Longroper had a companion in the arts,” I said.

“Oh, I wish to be his companion,” said Patricia. “But he plays hard to get, you see. He is more fixated on that dastardly Miss Easter.” Patricia then spoke without restraint. “Which will never end well, since Miss Easter is a disgraced noblewoman because she has affairs with women. How positively grisly.”

Maggy snorted and I kept my composure. I heard the sword shake in Kathryn’s grasp. The conversation was not even two minutes in and I hated Patricia enough to fill two lifetimes. Lurkson never mentioned her and after speaking with her, I understood why.

Still, she was beautiful and a sorceress at the violin. I could sense it in the air that she was my opposite in some regards yet she was also my equal in many ways. One way was our mutual desire for Lurkson’s affection.

And I made no assumptions. It was clear by the way Patricia spoke of Lurkson. She was smitten and I did not blame her. But I cursed her for daring to take what was rightfully mine.

“Do you have your cello with you, Madame Vineharth?” asked Patricia. “Perhaps we could play together as we wait for my servants to repair our coach.”

I flashed a venomous smile at her. “Sadly, no. I had to borrow the cello Lurkson had on hand. We played together and he is a dark angel on the violin.”

Patricia kept her smile but her eyes changed. My statement might as well have been a declaration of war. My claws were out and my stance was known at that moment. My rivalry with Patricia had begun.

“Oh, you borrowed that cello?” asked Patricia. “Our mentor’s old instrument she left as a token of admiration for Lurkson and he refused to allow anyone to play it. And he let you play it?”

“Oh, I was not aware of that,” I said. “But I do intend on playing with Lurkson again and, this time, with my own personal cello.”

“Really?” said Patricia as a sneer flashed across her face before she brought back her smile. “Well, perhaps we should play together sometime, yes?”

“Yes and with Lurkson accompanying us, it would be marvelous,” I said.

“Yes and if only we had someone at viola, we could have a quartet,” said Patricia.

“I know Young Deacon Gloombright and he is a wizard at the viola,” said Maggy. “All four of you together would make a dreadful quartet.”

Patricia’s head sharply turned towards Maggy then she said, “Yes, positively dreadful. Lurkson and I tutored Young Deacon Gloombright and he quickly surpassed our limits of instruction.”

“He has dreams of becoming a grand composer,” said Maggy. “I look forward to his career unfolding.”

“Yes, same . . .” Patricia then looked at me and flashed a gruesome smile. “So, you and Lurkson had grown close then?”

“Well, we had fun for a day,” I said vaguely.

“Yes . . . I bet you have,” said Patricia bitterly.

“He said ‘your dreadfulness lines with mine’ or something to that effect,” I said, flashing a dark smile at her. “He is such the poet.”

“Lurkson? A poet? He is talented but no—” Patricia then stopped herself and stared past me. One of her servants was in the distance and waved at her. “It would seem my coach has been repaired.” She then bowed to me then to Maggy. “I will be taking my leave then. It was lovely to meet you, Madame Vineharth.”

“You as well, Lady Hallowvale,” I said as I bowed back.

Maggy, Kathryn, and myself waited for Patricia to be at her coach before returning to our own coaches.

During the walk back, Kathryn whispered to me and said, “You showed superb restraint, Madame Vineharth. I was ready to slice the bitch into pieces for speaking ill of my Raven.”

“Yes, I have matured greatly on this trip, dear Kathryn,” I said.

“I am glad you did not mention the painting he gave you,” said Maggy with a proud smile. “Last thing we needed was you getting into fisticuffs with another noble girl.”

Maggy and I entered the coach and our convoy continued on its way. I watched Patricia’s party vanish into the distance. I thought of Lurkson and eagerly waited to write my first letter to him.

“Are you alright, Gothia?” asked Maggy. “Can I help in any way?”

I then said to dear Maggy, “Maggy, you will have to be my conscience because I wish to commit murder.”

And Maggy, with a stone cold face, said, “Dear Gothia . . . I will help you bury the body.”

We smiled and giggled darkly. Life for me had become so very dreadful in the most exciting and wondrous way possible. I have fallen madly in love and challenged anyone to steal it from me.

I looked forward to the future.

(Conclusion of Season 1)

🕸 END 🕸