P N Elrod - Barrett 4 - Dance of Death Read online

  Because of this hate, he'd had a difficult time dealing with her death. The world expected one kind of response from him and his heart poured forth quite another. He'd retreated into a shell filled with nebulous self-censure for several days, until I'd had enough and took a firm hand, giving him a good talking to about it.

  I'd managed to coax him away from his guilt in this very room. The servants had done a remarkable job of cleaning up the mess. Only a bit of scraped wood on the floor, a few dents in the frame of a painting knocked from the wall, and a missing vase broken during our "conversation" gave the least evidence that anything had happened. My injuries from the encounter were all healed, and so, I hoped, were his, particularly the old ones his mother had inflicted, the ones that had threatened to swell and fester upon Oliver's soul.

  His reawakened curiosity seemed to be a good sign of his spiritual health, and had been one of the points I'd considered before giving my consent to let him watch me feeding, Whatever adverse reaction he might draw from it could hardly be worse than anything he'd had to deal with while growing up in the dark halls of Fonteyn House.

  "Now just you open wide," he told me, looming in close with a candle.

  I opened wide, baring my teeth, then squawked when he brought the flame uncomfortably near. "You'll singe my eyebrows off!''

  "No, I won't," he insisted. "Oh, very well, hold still and I'll try something else." He pulled a small mirror from a pocket and employed it in such a way as to reflect the candlelight where he wanted. Unfortunately for the purposes of his science, both his hands were occupied and he could not conduct a proper examination. ''Damn, but if I could only get a good look in proper daylight,'' he complained.

  ''Impossible,'' I said, hoping he wouldn't insist on trying. The sun and I were no longer friends, but if Oliver's zealous-ness overtook his sense, he might forget that vital detail and take action.

  "Don't talk." He put the candleholder on a small table and asked me to lean in its direction. I did so. Holding the mirror steady in one hand, he used the fingers of the other to grasp one of my corner teeth and tug. I felt it slide down. Surprised, he released it and gaped as it slowly retracted into place.

  "Like a deuced cat's claw, only straighter," he said, full of wonder and repeating the action. "Does that hurt?''

  "No."

  "What does it feel like?''

  "Damned strange," I lisped.

  "You should see how it looks," remarked a new voice that gave us a start. "The servants will think the both of you have gone mad."

  My good sister Elizabeth stood in the open doorway regarding us with a calm eye and a curl of high amusement twisting one side of her mouth.

  "Hallo, sweet Cousin," Oliver said, a grin breaking forth upon his mobile features. Elizabeth's presence always had a hugely cheering effect on him. "You couldn't come at a better time. I need you to hold this mirror so I can give your brother's teeth a good looking over."

  "Whatever are you doing?" she asked, not moving from her place by the door, God bless her.

  "Scientific inquiry, my dear girl. I want to thoroughly examine the workings of Jonathan's condition, and since the good God did not provide me with three hands, I should like to borrow one of yours for a moment."

  "Scientific inquiry? How fascinating." With a wicked smile, she determinedly moved in on poor helpless me.

  "Now just one moment..."

  But I had no chance to further object. In a twinkling she was next to Oliver, holding the mirror and watching with avid interest as he poked and tapped and tugged my teeth with happy abandon. I endured it for as long as I could, then made a garbled protest loud enough to inform them that the examination was, for the time being, over.

  "Before heaven, I think you've dislocated my jaw," I complained, rubbing the offended area.

  "1 just wanted to see if the lower teeth were also capable of extension," he explained.

  "Next time ask. I could have told you that they don't."

  "Sorry, I'm sure, but there's so much that you don't know about yourself that I've gotten used to your negative answer every time I do ask about anything. It seemed simpler just to go ahead and experiment."

  "There's no harm done,'' Elizabeth told him. "But I think we've tried Jonathan's patience sufficiently for this night. Besides, he's needed elsewhere now. That is, if you have concluded your business with those two Mohocks."

  "Messieurs Ridley and Tyne have been dealt with, dear sister. I doubt they shall ever resume their destructive activities with their old crowd again.''

  "Thank God for that. Now straighten your neckcloth, dust off your knees, and let's get along. Nanny Howard's been waiting for more than an hour on you."

  "Nanny Howard?" said Oliver, then his expression abruptly altered. "Oh, I'd quite forgotten about that. Really, Jonathan, you should have reminded me. Or did you forget as well?''

  "No, that is to say..."

  "Don't tell me you've been putting it off."

  "Not precisely, but there's just been so much to think about that I?E'

  '' You have been putting it off.''

  "I have not, I've just... well..."

  Elizabeth stepped in. "Don't badger him, Oliver. Can't you see he's terrified?''

  "Terrified? Him? After all he's gone through?''

  "Do please make allowances, Cousin. He's never been through this before."

  Oliver frowned and shrugged. "I see what you mean. Come to think of it and given the choice, I'd probably be hiding in the cellar about now, or be halfway to France. It's a hard road you've picked for yourself and no mistake."

  "Surely not that hard," I said.

  "Consider how much of the way of it you'll be walking with Cousin Edmond, then tell me that again."

  He'd made a good point there, but I'd deal with Edmond later.

  "Edmond can keep," said Elizabeth. "Our concern is with young Richard. Come along, little brother, put your best foot forward. It's not every day a man gets to meet his son for the first time."

  CHAPTER

  -2-

  This was not strictly true. I had met the child last night though he'd not been awake for the occasion. It was probably for the best, since the knowledge of his existence had been a frightful surprise for me. Coming as it did some font years after his birth, I was hardly prepared to deal with it in an intelligent manner. For the most part, I'd simply stared in wonder at the little boy asleep on his cot-the little boy bearing my features-that his mother had been so careful to keep insulated from the rest of the family lest they discover his true paternity.

  Even now, with Elizabeth and Oliver there to take me in hand, I hardly felt ready to deal with the mere prospect of meeting my natural son, much less a face-to-face encounter. It was enough to make the bravest man's resolve tremble and collapse upon itself. Who was I if not a child myself, surely unable to assume the responsibility involved.

  But Elizabeth adjusted my neckcloth, I saw to the dusting of my knees, then out we marched with Oliver to the upstairs rooms that served as the house nursery. My feet threatened to transmute into leaden weights along the way; if left to myself, this few minutes' walk might have turned into an hour's journey. Their company forced me to keep to a normal pace. Before them I had to pretend to an enthusiasm I did not possess as I had no desire to draw additional attention to myself.

  Why so reluctant, Johnny Boy? It's not as though you haven't met him already.

  True, but until then I'd no knowledge of the child's existence and therefore no time to think about things. Besides, he'd been safely asleep. Now that the initial surprise and shock had worn off somewhat I was just beginning to comprehend the enormity of what I was about to face.

  I could give the child a looking over, then leave him to Edmond and have done with it, but my heart, quailing as it was at an unknown future, firmly told me that that was not the honorable course to follow. I'd already given Edmond to understand that I was interested in the boy's welfare, something that had surprised him at the time.
After thinking about it, my reaction was something of a surprise to me as well, but the words had been said, and I'd have to stand by them. For it was my duty... obligation... burden...

  Good God, but Elizabeth and Oliver were positively alight with anticipation for what was to come. I was hard pressed to keep my own shameful cowardice well-hidden - an achievement made particularly difficult because of a craven voice within urging me to bolt and run from the house while I could.

  Then I seemed to hear my father's voice as sometimes happened when I most needed his counsel.

  Always move forward, laddie. We're all in God's hands and that's as safe enough place as any in this world.

  It helped steady me, helped to drown out my disgraceful whining.

  Would that he could be here, though. Of course, then I'd have to break the news to him....

  Later, I promised myself.

  Most of the family members who had stayed overnight after Aunt Fonteyn's funeral had gone home today, taking their own offspring back to more familiar surroundings, it might have been easier to leave the children at home to begin with, but those parents with long-reaching plans found weddings and funerals to be ideal times to allow the coming generation a chance to meet. Thus were advantageous matches often made a dozen years prior to the actual nuptials.

  My son's mother-and Edmond's wife-Clarinda Fonteyn, had gone with custom and brought the boy with her. I could assume that it was done for the sake of form so as not to draw attention to him by his absence. Certainly she would not have shown him off to the other adults. His resemblance to me was unmistakable and the reason why she had incited her lover Ridley into murdering me. She'd not wanted me around as a living reminder of her past indiscretion; it would have spoiled her plans for her future. Clarinda had had ambitions-dangerous for me and for her husband, and entirely fatal for Aunt Fonteyn. Edmond and I had survived them, but what effect the aftermath would have on young Richard was yet to be determined. "Here," said Elizabeth, pausing and touching my arm "I thought you should have a present to give him." She drew a parcel from a hidden pocket in her wide skirts and thrust it at me.

  Nonplussed, I accepted it, staring as if I might see through the wrappings and string to what lay within.

  "It's a toy horse," she explained before I could ask. "Oliver's idea."

  "If that's all right with you, Coz," he added. "I mean, I had one myself. You don't mind, do you?"

  I spread my hands, deeply touched by their consideration. "Before God, I think I've got the best family that ever was.

  "This small part of 'em, anyhow. I'd not be too certain about the rest of the lot if I were you. They're all mad in one way or another y'know. Hope the boy takes after you and not Clarwell... that is to say..." He suddenly went very red.

  "Oh, let's not be silly about this," Elizabeth said, regarding us both with a severe eye. "All right, so young Richard's mother is what she is. That need not affect him in an adverse manner unless we do it ourselves by behaving strangely every time her name comes up in conversation. Jonathan, do you not recall how Father dealt with the subject whenever we inquired after Mother as children?''

  "Vividly."

  "How?" asked Oliver.

  "He'd tell us that she had to be away from home because she was ill and did not want us to become sick as well," she answered.

  Was that not the stark truth of it? I thought. Later, when we were much older, Father explained that Mother's illness had to do more with her mind than her body. Now did we understand the extent of damage that might have been done had she remained with her family and not gone off to live far away from us as we matured.

  "Since Jonathan wants to make himself a part of Richard's life, then I think it best that we decide here and now how to behave ourselves concerning Clarinda. I had a long talk with Edmond about it today."

  "Edmond?" I yelped, leaving my jaw hanging wide.

  "Certainly, little brother. You weren't in a condition to do so, and as the boy's aunt, I think I have a justified interest in his future."

  Clarinda's husband. With all my physical advantages over normal men and despite the fact that we were on reasonably amicable terms considering the outrageousness of the situation, even I was subject to a tremor or two when it came to facing Edmond Fonteyn. That Elizabeth had done so and apparently emerged unscathed raised my already high respect for her capabilities to a yet loftier elevation.

  "We had a very constructive conversation about the whole business," she said, "and he promises to be quite reasonable about how to deal with Richard concerning Clarinda. In fact, he thought that Father's example would work perfectly for him in every way as well."

  "You told him about Mother?"

  "Certainly, since he knew all about Aunt Fonteyn and her ways. He expressed great curiosity to me over how we managed to turn out to be so sensible, so I thought it the polite thing to inform him."

  Unspoken was my thought that Edmond might have been comparing us to Oliver and found my cousin somewhat lacking. Not that Oliver was a fool; it just suited him to assume the role when the need arose. The need, unfortunately, seemed to occur most often whenever Edmond was around.

  "Is it agreeable to you both that we should follow this direction?" she asked, knowing full well we'd have to say yes. We did not dare disappoint her. "That's resolved, then. Are there any other points that we need to discuss?"

  "I have one," said Oliver. "What does Edmond plan to do when the rest of the family twigs on who the boy's real father is?"

  "We did not precisely address that issue, but I got the impression he'd stare them down and dare 'em to say a word to his face."

  "That's fine for him, he can take care of himself, but when people start whispering and the other children start bullying the lad."

  "I think that will be best worked out as it happens," I cautiously put in.

  Elizabeth favored me with an approving look and turned again to Oliver. "Anything else?"

  "One more thing, I fear. What are we to tell the boy? He'll have to learn about his true parentage, y'know."

  For this, Elizabeth made no response. Both of them looked expectantly at me. I raised and dropped my hands, giving in to pure helplessness. "I'll have to talk to Edmond about it, I suppose. But for now, the boy's only four, the knowledge will hardly mean anything to him, nor would it do him much benefit. Such a topic can wait until the time is right for it to be addressed."

  "Well said," Oliver commented. "I suppose I worry too much and too far ahead of myself for anyone's good."

  "I believe that it has become your lot to have to do so. You're head of the family now, aren't you?"

  He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yes, God help me. They're already coming forward, wanting me to settle disputes-or should I say take sides. You'd think I was a judge and not a doctor the way they go on about their squabbles."

  "You'll do all right."

  "Humph. Easy for you to say, Coz, you're well out of it for the day. Wish I could hide in the cellars when they come calling with a new problem."

  "No, you don't," I told him with such absolute sincerity that he laughed.

  "What? You've no liking for sleeping the day through and avoiding its troubles?''

  "I told you that it's not really sleep."

  "Bother it, you know what I mean."

  "Indeed I do, but I'd gladly take on a bit of trouble if a bit of real daylight went with it, too."

  My wistful tone turned him instantly contrite. "I'm sorry, I should have thought first before."

  "No, you shouldn't. You're fine just as you are." Best to curtail that kind of thinking, or my poor cousin would end up apologising every time he opened his mouth for a jest. "I'm the one who's too serious around here. My point was that it is a wise thing to have a care on what you wish for. Now if you really want to spend the day skulking in a damp cellar and never ever taste brandy again,"

  He raised both hands in a horrified shudder. "Enough, enough already! You make my skin crawl. Ugh!"

 
Good humor was with us once more. "Right then, You've reminded me of something. I've a question for you, Elizabeth."

  She tilted her head expectantly.

  "Tell me, dear sister, was it you who went home and fetched some of my earth today?''

  Because of all the many distractions the night before I'd had no time to return to my usual sanctuary under Oliver's house in town and had to seek shelter from the dawn in the cellars of Fonteyn House. Safe enough from the Hazards of daylight it was, but when denied the comfort of my native soil I was always subject to an endless series of bad dreams and powerless to escape them until the setting of the sun, This time, though, the infernal dreams had mysteriously curtailed themselves, and against all expectations I'd achieved a decent day's rest. Upon awakening this evening I discovered that someone had placed a sackful of earth next to me where I'd made a bed on the floor of an unused wine cupboard.