Authors: Carina Wilder
Edmund preceded Mr. Harrington into his bedroom, carrying his luggage. He would act as the man’s personal valet for the duration of his stay, which meant helping him dress among other things.
“Just leave it there,” said the young man, pointing to an empty corner. “Edmund, is it? Have you worked here long?”
“Not very, sir, not compared to some.”
“Do you enjoy
Wolverton?”
“I do sir, very much. His
Lordship is an excellent master.”
“And the rest of the family? Do you like them?”
“What a lot of questions,”
thought Edmund.
“Very much, sir.”
He opened up Mr. Harrington’s trunk and proceeded to prepare his outfit for that evening’s dinner.
“I should like to change jackets while you’re at it, Edmund,” said the guest.
“Very good sir,” said Edmund, picking out a fresh garment. He laid it on the bed and then turned to Harrington, who was looking at him.
“You’re very tall,” the man said.
“Well, you know how it is with footmen, sir,” said Edmund, smiling. “They say that height is a sign of the prestige of the house.”
“Quite so. And you certainly do this house proud. I always knew that his
Lordship enjoyed presenting himself and his family well, but I had no idea that his staff was so….attractive.”
“Thank you, sir.”
On hearing the tone in Mr. Harrington’s voice, Edmund felt a warm jolt of electricity shoot from the top of his head down his spine, sensing a profound intimacy in his meaning. But he immediately reminded himself that he knew better than to take a comment like this as a come-on, though; in all likelihood Mr. Harrington sincerely meant that the staff as a
whole
was appealing. And they were, of course. Beautiful, pale creatures with sculpted features and lithe movements. Who wouldn’t find them lovely?
He
helped the gentleman off with his jacket and laid it next to the clean one.
Mr. Harrington stood in front of the mirror as Edmund helped
him into the new jacket. The footman peered at the reflection of the other man’s face as he assisted him, eager to read his features. His own inquisitive look was met with a set of staring eyes which seemed to size him up as well. Shivering gently, Edmund felt goose bumps rise on his pale skin as Harrington looked straight at him. A serious expression came across the man’s face and his gaze intensified, as though he were trying to look right through the vampire, to read his mind. To know him inside as well as out.
“
Could it be that he’s wondering the same about me as I am about him
?” Edmund thought, caught by the penetrating eyes, unwilling and unable to look away.
After
holding the footman captive for a moment with his unrelenting stare, Harrington finally smiled and seemed to relax. Edmund smoothed the back of the jacket, averting his gaze at last.
“Thank you.
I’m looking forward to the next couple of weeks,” said Mr. Harrington, turning to face the servant.
“As am I, sir
…very much.”
The
unreadable guest put a hand on Edmund’s shoulder and held it there for a moment, looking once again into his eyes but saying no words, and then he turned and left the room.
After the guests had enjoyed tea together, the gentlemen and ladies went upstairs to change for dinner. Lady Victoria found herself watching Mr. Thornton proceed up the stairs to the bachelor’s corridor, admiring his gait and his overall handsomeness.
“Perhaps you ought to consider making it less obvious that you’re a slut,” hissed Lady Anne as she walked by.
“Horrid thing,” moaned Victoria under her breath. “What’s so wrong with admiring a gentleman?” Nevertheless, she turned and made for the
east wing where her room and her maid were awaiting her.
In the hallway upstairs, Mr. Thornton came upon a young
housemaid who was quickly making her way towards the staircase.
“Pardon me, sir, I didn’t realize that anyone was coming up so soon,” Lucy said as he stopped before her. She stared at her feet, fearing that he planned to reprimand her for being in his way.
“It’s absolutely fine,” he said, smiling. Lucy looked at him shyly.
“Goodness, how lovely you are,”
he added, admiring her dark hair and full lips.
“Thank you, sir.” Lucy pondered whether or not she could walk by him. Though he was slim, he seemed to be taking up the entire hallway.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, curtsying quickly and then proceeding on her way, hoping that he would shift to let her pass. He did not. Worse still, she could smell him now that she’d moved in closer to him.
It had been some days since her last hunt and Lucy was overcome with a desire for the man’s blood. But no. He was a guest and she must leave him now and avoid temptation.
Instead of letting her by, Thornton grabbed her arm gently. Lucy let out a gasp. What if they should be seen?
“I was wondering about something in my room,” he said. “Would you be so kind as to take a look?”
The young maid knew better than to refuse a guest’s request. “Of course, sir. Anything I can do to help.”
Thornton guided her to his door, which he opened. He gestured for her to enter. “Please, after you,” he said.
Lucy walked in, looking around. The room was pristine and she wasn’t sure what could possibly be amiss. Mr. Thornton closed the door behind him.
“You see, it’s that my lamps don’t match. The one on the left is lovely. I wondered if you had a second item that was its partner.”
“I can certainly ask, sir,” said Lucy. Instinct told her that he didn’t care a whit about lamps.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”
Thornton had moved closer and was now standing directly in front of her. Lucy was a head shorter than him but she knew that she could easily throw him to the ground or tear him limb from limb, if she so desired. She’d learned from Ida the importance of restraint though, and so she stood her ground and tacitly refused to make eye contact.
Mr. Thornton put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. In spite of herself and what she knew to be proper, lady-like behaviour, Lucy felt a stirring within her.
He smelled delectable, and her longing was increasing with each moment: for his blood, for his very essence. Under her uniform she felt her nipples harden, and a warmth that she’d thought was uncharacteristic to her kind filled her.
“You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?”
“I suppose I am, sir.” She thought that he might kiss her. If his lips met hers, she knew, she would be in deep trouble. It would be impossible not to sink her teeth into his flesh.
But there was no kiss. Instead
, with the back of his hand he grazed her left breast, further tempting the nipple that was forming a clear outline through her clothing.
“How lovely,” he moaned, allowing his hand to move slowly around and to feel the firm nub.
Lucy felt a gush of wetness between her legs. “My body wants his, needs his,” she thought. She wondered if his form was responding similarly under his own clothing.
With two fingers, Thornton gently pinched at her nipple. Lucy gasped. The man took this as a good sign and allowed his other hand to pull her skirt up.
“I must stop this. I must,” she thought. Ida had warned her about men but she didn’t know what a lady was to do in this situation. Would Mr. Thornton perceive it as a slight if she left the room now? Would she get into trouble?
Suddenly his hand was between her legs. “
Oooh,” he said, and she knew that, in spite of her undergarments, he could feel the warm wetness that had come from her inviting pussy. “Goodness, you’re ready for me, aren’t you?”
“I….I must go, sir. They’ll be waiting for me downstairs.” With that, Lucy pulled her skirt down and dashed out of the room, closing the door behind her. She thought she could hear Thornton laughing quietly to himself.
When she got downstairs, she found Ida, who’d been up helping Lady Victoria prepare for dinner.
“Goodness, Lucy, what’s the matter?” said Ida, seeing Lucy’s face. If possible, she was even more pale than usual.
“It’s Mr. Thornton. He…”
Ida stiffened, anticipating what was to come next. She felt a quiet rage begin to build.
“He what?”
“He touched me.”
“I see. And so what did you do?”
“Well, naturally, I came away. I knew it wasn’t right. But Ida, I wanted him. I wanted his blood so badly
.”
“Yes. That can be difficult, particularly at first. Well done to control yourself. Now Lucy, you must go hunting tonight. You simply must. It will help quell the urge.”
“I know you’re right. I will then.”
“Good girl. Now, don’t speak of this to anyone.
The last thing you want is an angry...” and then she whispered, “vampire…to get wind of such a thing.”
“Of course. I only told you because I trust you.”
“I’m glad you do. For the rest of the day, you are to stay away from the gentlemen’s wing. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
At dinner, Edmund served the guests,
who were all splendidly attired, the men in their tails and the women in their silk finery.
“Ladies, you all look lovely this evening,” said Mr. Harrington as he sat down, taking special care to look directly at Lady Downing. “How nice it is to have such pleasant company.”
“Thank you, Mr. Harrington. You’re too kind,” answered the lady of the manor.
“Now, how is everyone settling in?” asked Lord Downing, his deep voice booming through the room. “I trust that everything is satisfactory?”
“Oh yes, everything’s splendid,” said Miss Harrington.
“Very,” said Mr. Harrington. Edmund, who was looking his way just then, noticed that
the gentleman was eyeing him just as he uttered the word.
Lady Victoria, who was seated next to Mr. Thornton, said, “And are you enjoying yourself?”
“Very much,” he said. “As I said earlier, the scenery is delightful.” As he responded Victoria saw his eyes shift to her chest. She flushed, not sure whether she was more annoyed or pleased.
Miss
Harrington’s friend, Miss Ashbury, was quiet as usual. James made several attempts to get her to speak before giving up. Meanwhile, Miss Harrington was uncharacteristically silent. Anne watched her, having, like Ida, developed the impression that the young lady was more interested in the pale male servants than in the aristocrats of the house.
As Edmund circled the table, holding dishes for the guests to serve themselves, Miss Harrington watched him. If Anne were less charitable she’d say that the lady was all but
drooling. “Really, that’s for our family members to do,” she thought. “We’re the dogs, after all.”
When the footman arrived at her seat, Miss Harrington was deliberately slow to help herself to food.
“I’m so sorry, Edmund,” she said. “I’m terribly clumsy with utensils. But you are so good to be patient.” She looked up at his face, a coy expression on her own, and licked her lips. Edmund found himself averting his gaze, looking instead at her brother across the table, who was quietly observing the interaction. Edmund resisted the smile that attempted to form on his own face as Mr. Harrington grinned at him.
“Perhaps he’s hoping that his sister and I will wind up entangled,” he thought. “But we all know that won’t happen. Well,
she
may not know that I’m as flaccid for her as a dead fish. Poor, silly girl.”
The evening proceeded thusly, with Miss Harrington attempting repeatedly to find excuses to get Edmund to bring her things
or to service her in other ways. “Edmund, be a dear and fetch me some more wine. Edmund, I seem to have spilled some sauce on my dress. Would you mind?” The footman felt that he was working well above his pay grade as he dabbed at her chest with a napkin.
“Here, let me,” sai
d Anne, sensing Edmund’s discomfort. She took the cloth from him and worked at Miss Harrington’s front. “You like our Edmund, I see,” she said under her breath.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you? Ah well, I must have misinterpreted something. It happens.”
When he wasn’t tending to Miss Harrington or trying quietly to look at her brother, Edmund spent most of the evening with his back to the wall, listening to the dinner conversation. Lord Downing was discussing some breakthrough in
communication technology that had occurred in America, and the ladies and gentlemen, for the most part, listened with rapt attention. Only Mr. Thornton seemed constantly to let his mind wander. Edmund had determined that, unlike in the case of Mr. Harrington, there was no hope for the man. It was clear that he was nothing more than a boy who enjoyed ogling young women, and no doubt frequented houses of ill repute in his spare time.
Victoria hadn’t entirely come to this conclusion, however, and she did
her best to try and size him up, occasionally putting a hand elegantly under her chin in an attempt to accentuate her long neck and to make herself enticing. On one occasion she even touched his thigh briefly with her fingertips as she asked him about his house in London. She knew perfectly well that her parents wanted her focusing on Harrington, but Thornton exuded a sort of raw sexuality, and she couldn’t help herself. Harrington seemed, well, innocent in comparison.
Mr. Thornton, meanwhile, had set his sights entirely on
the young maid with the lovely breasts and wondered how he could orchestrate another meeting. He’d gotten her into his room and hardened what were no doubt mouth-watering nipples; he could do it again. And this time he would find a way to stroke her moist mound without the interference of clothing. Yes, he thought. She would be his before the visit was through, and hopefully often.
“Mr. Thornton?” said
Victoria, noticing that his eyes seemed to have glazed over while her father spoke. She found it rude, but understandable. Papa could go on for hours if you allowed him.
“I’m so sorry. Yes, I’m listening,” he said, reminding himself that he was expected to behave while at meals. He looked at Victoria and smiled, realizing that her eyes were focused on his lap. He didn’t have to look down to know that she was staring at the bulge in his trousers
, which had formed during his reverie about the beautiful young maid.
He pulled his napkin up to cover it and Victoria blinked and looked away quickly. Very unladylike, she thought. Poorly done. But by God, that was a sight.
She couldn’t help but allow a brief smile to cross her lips.
Edmund had been staring at the back of Mr. Harrington’s head when the young man called him over. “I wonder if I might trouble you for some meat,” he said
quietly. As he did so, his left hand brushed against the footman’s thigh; only for a moment, too quickly for the other dinner guests to notice, and Edmund sensed that it was no accident.
“Certainly, sir. What sort of meat would you like?”
he asked, allowing a playful tone to enter his voice.
“Oh, anything will do. There was still some chicken, I believe. Perhaps a firm piece of white flesh.
I do so enjoy firm, white, succulent meat.”
It’s commonly thought that vampires have no blood, since they’re constantly seeking that of others. This is, of course, a misconception. It courses through their veins as it does through that of humans and werewolves. But it generally does so slowly, methodically, which is the reason for their very low body temperatures and for their
pallor. Occasionally, though, it surges, as in the case of the blood that shot in that moment to Edmund’s soft cock, filling it and causing his flesh to swell with a painful longing. He knew then that Harrington would be his; he had only to control himself in the meantime.
He was glad that he’d gotten his fill of the old man’s blood the night before
, and that he could now begin to consider the appeal of other bodily fluids. Very glad indeed.