Tale of Raw Head and Bloody Bones (9781101614631) (26 page)

Katherine Montague, thinking herself alone, in the cleared and empty Room, stood before the high Mantel, where the Light was greatest. As I crosst the Threshold, she startled, every bit as roughly as I had done when she had crashed the Lid; and mine Attention was at once drawn to her Hand, in which she held the stolen silver Fork.

Her Intention, plainly, had not been to have replaced it. She had rolled back the Sleeve of her blue Gown, and when I had broken in had been upon the Point of piercing the fragile Epidermis on the inside of her Elbow with its Tines. Instantly, she tried to hide it; then, realising that already I had seen too much, she hurried over to the Table, threw down the brutal Implement upon its polished Surface, pulled down her Sleeve, and attempted to push past me into the dark Stairway.

This was her Mistake; or perhaps her Genius. I would not be pushed aside, and feeling that the intimate Nature of the Scene I had just witnessed, in addition to our earlier Flirtations, more than qualified me to act, I caught tight hold of her upper Arm and held her fast.

“Why?” I asked.

“You would not understand.”

“Look me in mine Eyes,” I said. “And tell me then I would not understand.”

“Unhand my Arm, Mr Hart!”

“No.”

She began violently to struggle, and applied her other Hand to my Fingers, which wrappt about her Biceps; but she had not a Fraction of my Strength and the Endeavour was beyond her. She began to twirl and writhe under mine Hand, wriggling within my Grasp like a lively Eel. Immediately, my Loins responded. She set her Teeth and a sharp Hiss escaped her; not of Fear, nor Rage, but of Determination. I do not know what Instinct prompted me, whether that of Monster or of Lover; but I executed upon her the sudden high Twist of the Arm that I had used on Viviane, and perfected upon Polly Smith. That should have been the End of it, but Katherine Montague, instead of crying out in Pain, began to laugh.

“You think that you can hurt me?” she said. “Like that?”

“Can I not?”

“Release me,” she said. “And I shall shew you.”

I let go my Grip, and steppt back, intrigued. Had she then desired it, she could have attempted to leave the Room and I would not have prevented it; but she turned toward me instead, and with the coquettish Smile she had bestowed upon me in the Graveyard, she revealed to me the wicker Pliability of all her upper Joints. Her Wrists she contorted backwards far beyond the Point at which any ordinary Person must have experienced Agony; likewise her Fingers and her Thumbs. Her Arms she could twist about until her Elbows appeared backwards upon her Body. This last Demonstration was too much for my Fascination to withstand. Bidding her remain so poised, I ran mine Hands along her upper Arms until I reached her Shoulders, where the Ball of the Os Humeri was so over-extended within its Socket as to be nigh upon the Point of Dislocation.

“This doth not pain you?” I exclaimed, incredulous.

“No, Mr Hart. It doth not.”

“Wonderfull,” I said.

I did not take mine Hands away, and as she returned her Arms to a more natural Alignment I became acutely sensible of the Rotation of the Humeri beneath my Palms. My Lust for her began to quicken anew; but close upon it came a sorry Sensation of Helplessness. If I cannot easily cause her to scream, I thought, how can I satisfy my Desire, or hers? Then I shook My Self, for the Problem was scarcely moot. Miss Montague was not a Woman with whom things were ever like to come to such a Pitch.

I still did not remove mine Hands. Katherine turned her Face toward me, and once more I experienced that devastating Longing to kiss her. In the flickering Light, I seemed to see again the Face of someone whom I had known long. I lifted my Fingers from her Shoulder, and gently traced the delicate Outline of her Inferior Maxilla from Ear to Chin. The velvet Skin rippled beneath my Touch. Her soft Lips parted slightly.

If I kissed her, I thought, I should be putting things onto such a Footing between us as to make my Life, and perhaps hers, very difficult. I drew back. But the Capacity did not exist in me to quit her intirely. Also, I reminded My Self, by Way of an Excuse, I had still yet to talk with her about Nathaniel, which was not something I could do amongst those who designed to keep him secret.

“Miss Montague,” I said. “Earlier, with the Fork.”

Her Expression darkened, but I did not let her pull away. “I needed to see the Blood,” she said at last.

“Why?”

“Because I did. Because you made a Fool of yourself gawping after Sophy like some country Idiot, and ignored me.”

“If I did,” I said, “there was nothing in it. I have no Interest whatever in Sophia Ravenscroft.”

“Truly? Then you have been doubly cruel, to her as well as me; altho’ she deserves it.”

“When you go back to the Rectory,” I said, “what will you do? Will you steal another Fork?”

“I should not need to steal anything,” she answered with a contemptuous Toss of her Head, by which I gathered that she probably had a Razor hidden underneath her Pillow.

Her Vice was almost the Mirrour of mine own, altho’ I felt certain that she as yet derived no carnal Pleasure from it. Nevertheless, she found what I found, in the dark Heart of the Thing, the Pain: Relief.

“If you will come with me,” I said, “I have within my Study the proper Equipment for Blood-letting.” I spoke quickly, and in a low Tone. The hot Colour rose within my Face.

Then I saw that for the first Time since I had met her, I had Katherine Montague at a clear Disadvantage. My Reaction had so compleatly astonished her that her Mouth droppt open. Her small uneven Teeth glistened with Spittle in the vapid yellow Light, and the round Swell of her Tongue presst speechless against them. Then, with an apparent Effort, she swallowed, and sucked in a Breath.

“Dost do it, too?” she demanded.

“No,” I answered. “’Tis not what I do. But you must believe me when I assure you, on my very Life, that I understand why you do it.”

Katherine drew back at that, and looked at me with her Eyes narrowed, as if she were perceiving me anew. I could see that she did not comprehend the Whole of my Meaning, which was a good
thing, I thought; but I could not intirely pretend away my Disappointment, and some of it must have shewn in mine Expression. Katherine put her delicate Hands to my Face. I did not flinch as she explored my Cheeks with curious Fingertips.

“I am studying Anatomy under William Hunter,” I told her. “I shall be more skilled than any country Surgeon within a Yeare or two.”

She put her Fingers softly to my Lips. “And then?”

“Then I shall devote My Self to the Study of Pain.”

“Why?”

“I used to think,” I said, “that I should discover a Means to take it away. Now I know not why; except that it is beautifull.”

“Pain is beautifull?”

I could not resist: I kissed her Fingertip. “Yes,” I said. “And terrible, and vile, and cruel. But beautifull, despiting all of that.”

“In the Moment,” she whispered. “The Moment when I see the Blood, I feel almost as if I were flying.”

Her Gaze locked itself into mine. Again that Fear of what should follow; and then the Understanding, sent from Heaven or from Hell, that she and I were quite beyond such mundane Considerations as Reputation or Rank. We were Monsters, both of us; or perhaps fallen Angels, for I could not look upon her Countenance and see anything but the perfect and pure Creation of Almighty God.

I placed mine Hand beneath her sharp Chin, and tilted her Face upwards. Then before I could lose Courage, or my Reason change my Mind, I bent forward and presst my Lips to hers. Her Mouth was small, and her Lips as gentle as willow Catkins.

For an Instant, I was terrified lest I bruise her; then she twisted her Fingers in the loose Hairs upon the Nape of my Neck, and pulled me closer with a Force that took my Breath away. Mine
Heart began to pound and my Desires to rise like Demons out of the encompassing Dark. I did not mind them. I lowered mine other Hand to the Curve of her Back, where her sixth Rib joined with her Spine, and wished her out of her tight Stays. I held her; I kissed her; I cradled the Base of her Cranium upon my Fingertips.

I do not know how long we remained thus. Time had ceased to matter. But eventually we broke apart, and I realised that she had secured her other Hand high upon my Chest, over mine Heart. “How it drums,” she murmured.

I went to put mine Arms about her again, but she was pushing me away, holding out before me her exposed Forearm. “Do it,” she demanded. “Take away all the Ugliness, all the Filth.”

I took her Hand in mine and led her to my Study.

The Aire within the Room was cool, as I had ordered no Fire to be lit; it was dark, and, since presently the Cages in which I had housed my living Subjects were empty, unusually silent. I carried my Candle to the long Table and lit the Tapers. At once my Laboratory came to life.

Katherine hovered within the open Doorway and looked around with the Expression of one admiring at an aweful Wonder. “What is it all?” she said.

I went back to shut the Door, and taking up her Hand again, I led her into my
Sanctum sanctorum
, and explained carefully the Purposes to which I put all mine Equipment. This took some considerable Time; Katherine had never seen a good many of the Objects that I took for granted: she had never set Eyes upon an Alembic, or imagined any Use for white Salt other than in the Kitchen. I shewed her, with Pride, my large Collection of articulated Skeletons, and described the Stages of the Process that had
manifested those Results. She shrank back from the Human Skull I had brought down from London, and placed proud upon mine Escritoire. I could not understand why this should have upset her. I explained that it was that of a foreign Thief who had been executed in his native Country eighteen Yeares ago, and that I had received it in order that I might closely examine the Pattern of fused Bones in the upper Cranium. I did not tell her that I had a Child’s Skull also in my Possession, for Comparison, which was too delicate to risk travelling. I had left it behind in London.

She inquired next about my Cages, and I could tell that she liked mine Answer as little as she had liked my Convict’s Skull; but she said nothing, and I felt no pressing Need to defend my Practice. I bade her instead to lie down upon the Sopha whilst I retrieved my Lancet and bleeding-Bowl from the cup Board next to my specimen Case, where I stored mine Equipment. I was not certain, after so many Minutes, that she would still willingly permit me this Liberty, but she did as I asked. The Thought struck me that she was now in such a vulnerable Position that it would be very easy for me to take another, and for an Instant mine Attention was so diverted that I nigh cut My Self upon mine own Blade. There was no real Question of that, however, and I banished the Image, along with several dozen others, to the Corner of my Mind. Carrying mine Equipment, and a lighted Taper, I approached the Sopha. Kneeling beside Katherine, I carefully positioned her Elbow atop the grooved Depression in the Bowl’s Rim. She gave a low Sigh, and closed her Eyes. I lifted the Taper and searched her inner Arm for an appropriate Vein. This Task proved to be less straightforward than I had anticipated, for the Skin had become quite scarred; it took me some Moments to locate a Place. Then I made one small, quick Cut, and
wine-dark Blood streamed out over the pale Epidermis to pool in the white Porcelain below.

As she felt the Touch of my Blade, Katherine opened wide her Eyes, and stared hard at her own Arm with a fearfull Longing. As the Blood flowed across her Skin, she let out a tranquil Whimper, half Pain, half Happiness, and smiled. Her grey Eyes had become Tear-filled. I placed mine Hand upon her Head, and stroaked her gossamer Hair.

I did not bleed her long, for there was no medical Need and I dared not to risk it. After perhaps half a Minute I sealed up the little Wound, and put away my Tools; altho’ at her Request I left the Bowl where she could continue to see it.

Katherine seemed now so quiescent I was almost anxious lest she be unwell. Her Expression, however, had so delightful a Look that I decided that this could not be the Case. She was, I realised, at Peace, brought to a State not unlike to that of someone whose Screams I had stoppt; altho’ I had never witnessed quite such Extasie upon the face of Polly Smith, or any other Woman, for that matter.

I thought then that I must kiss her again, and so I did. Her Lips felt cool and still upon mine own. Then I sate on the Floor beside her until such Time as she felt ready to sit up, and pull down her Sleeve, and shew me Signs of being herself once more.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For the Kiss?”

“Dunce. You know for what.”

“Tell me how it began,” I asked her.

“I was very ill,” she said. “Last Yeare. And the Surgeon seemed to come Daye upon Daye. I nearly died. But after I was well again I found that I still needed to do it.”

I leaned close in beside her, and took both her Hands betwixt mine own. Her Breath was nectar sweet upon my Face. “Now,” I said, “’tis Time for you to stop. I fear greatly you will injure yourself; you have no Way of knowing where properly to cut, or how deep, or of how much Blood to let. Tonight, you attempted the Operation with a dining-Fork.”

Her face fell. “I can’t,” she said.

“You will. There are other Methods of purging the Soule; and I am highly accomplished at most of them.”

“I expect you are,” she said, looking slowly again around my Study. “Bloody Bones, that’s what you are; that’s what you are, Mr Hart: Bloody Bones beneath the Bed, to scare the Children off to Sleep.”

“I am no Raw-Head-and-Bloody-Bones!” I exclaimed.

“That is true; you are no Raw Head; I say you are Bloody Bones; the Fiend who collects the marrow-Bones of the Dead, and prizes them more dearly than the Living.”

“Hold forth your Hand,” I told her.

“Why?”

I seized firm Hold of her slender Wrist, and twisted her Hand so that her open Fingers lay uncurled before me. Then before she had a Chance to pull away I rapped her Palm with mine own Hand, as hard as I could suffer it My Self. Katherine squeaked and tried instinctively to close her Fingers and to free her Hand, but I did not allow this, and I struck her again in the same Manner six or seven Times more. Mine own Palm was by now too sore for me to continue, but she had taken my Point as well as my Chastisement. Her Eyes were wide as much in Shock as in Pain, but I could discern behind her Tears a marvelling Excitement that made mine Heart race.