Servitude or Taxes

[Perplexia]

The rains in Northern England made life hard for those that made their livings off of the land. To make it worse the early winters ravaged the lands causing frost to take a good portion of the crops which left farmers short to pay their landlords the taxes that would be due in the spring.

Debtors prison was always a constant threat for those that couldn't pay what was due. In Marybeth Millers case it would leave the next harvest untouched for her brothers were still too young and her father wouldn't be there to work the fields. This would leave both the Landlord Baronet Jonathon Percival, and their family without a resolution.

Before the dreaded tax day arrived her father sat her down at their old wooden dining table and brought the truth to light. He had come up with a solution that would keep him and their family in home, and with luck be able to provide enough food and harvest for the next year.

"Daughter" he said to her as she sat quietly. "If the Baronet agrees to my exchange you will go and work in his home as a maid for a year to pay off the taxes we cannot afford to pay thanks to the early frost."

Marybeth listened brushing one of her amber locks from her face as her emerald eyes looked up at him. She was of average height and considered quite beautiful. Her station in life was simple. She was a woman and did what she was told and expected nothing. If she was lucky when the time came she would become a wife to what would more than likely be a farmer. This was the fate she was dealt. Her mother had been a higher station in life then her father. But they had fallen in love, so she left the comfort of the chateau for the life of a farmers wife. She had insisted that he and their children all learn to read. Books opened Marybeths mind to a world she would never see, and she loved to disappear into them whenever she could.

As the good daughter she was there wasn't much she could say to her father other than "yes father." She was the only hope her family had to get out of this predicament. The idea of working was nothing new to her. She cleaned and scrubbed daily and even cooked on occasion. Life at a manor would be no different in that term anyway.

As the day arrived her father went out to the Baronets barouche. She couldn't hear what was said and couldn't see who he spoke to, but it was likely someone that worked for the evasive Baronet. There were rumors about the man, that he kept to himself, and was rarely seen about in society. Some thought him to be evil, others swore he was old and sickly.

Soon her father came back inside and advised her that the arrangement he purposed had been excepted and that she would work at the Baronets castle. The next day she was to arrive at the servants entrance and speak with the head housekeeper.

Marybeth packed up her few belongings which simply consisted of clothes and books and headed on foot the next day to the great erection of a castle. Standing at the servants entrance she spoke with the head housekeeper and was shown to her room and given her uniform. A brief tour, a scrap to eat, and she was set to work dusting the library. Never in her life had she seen so many books. The mere sight was like an orgasm in her mind.

The house was quiet except for the bustling of servants. Her eyes scoured the titles and lightly fingered them before snapping out of her daze and continuing her dusting.

 

[Hard_Rom]

The Baronet Jonathon Percival stirs in his sarcophogus as the sun goes down. His eyes open in the dark confines of the massive stone crypt and he sighs. Yet another night of existance to be lived or more truthfully, endured. With ease he pushes aside the stone lid and sits up. The unlit windowless mausoleum, located deep in the woods that surround his castle, is as visible to him as if torch lit. A whimpering sound draws his gaze to corner of the pitch black room. The vampire lord lifts himself from the confines of the burial tomb, smoothes out his rich clothes and runs his hands through his long dark hair. The whimpering sound has now turned into a soft sobbing. Almost as if floating, he moves to the tomb's corner where the sound originates from.

Chained by her ankle to the wall is a young girl. Emaciated and naked, the girl huddles in the corner clutching her knees to her chest. A half eaten rat lays beside her along with scraps of other dead things, birds, cats, and rats. The wretched thing looks up and tries to stare into the darkness.

"Kill me, please," she whimpers, "Let me die."

If he had a heart it would break at the wretchedness of her condition and plea. The only pity the vampire feels is for himself. His feelings towards her are more akin to hunger than anything else. Percival feels no animosity to her either. He derives no pleasure from her torment. All she is to him is a source of nourishment. She has been here for nearly a month now. Chained to the wall by her ankle and fed upon nightly. Not enough to kill her. That would entail finding another food source with the danger of someone perhaps taking an interest in a missing girl. The vampire must ration himself, lest he draw attention to himself. But he must feed or become weakened himself.

When he moves to take her, it is with blinding speed. Before she can even react, he has her by the throat and pinned to the wall by his hand. Weakly she tries to beat him off. but to no avail. She might as well hit the wall for all the good it does her. In the pitch blackness he inspects her filthy almost starved body, looking for a spot he has not fed from. Her body is covered with the wounds of his fangs that have torn chunks of flesh from her. The skin over her left breast is free from the tearings of his fangs. With the heady odour of her living maiden's blood filling his nostrils, he bites down hard on her flesh and rips out a piece as she screams in pain and terror. She trashes and screams as she flails at him. To no avail. He fastens his mouth to her breast and drinks deep of her blood.

The girl has fainted from starvation, loss of blood and sheer terror by the time he stops feeding on her virgin blood. Releasing her, she falls heavily to the floor barely alive. The vampire knows he must find another within a few more days. This one will not live another week. A replacement will have to be found from preferrably quite aways away. It is best not to hunt too close to home. Baronet Percival draws a handkercheif from his sleeve and wipes the blood from his mouth and chin before folding it up and putting it away.

With his hunger satiated, Jonathon looks up at the ceiling. High above is a small hole in the thick stone roof, no more than six inches across. He begins to rise upward from the floor, changing as he does. His cloaks billows out and assumes almost a batwinged shape. And before he has reached to roof the impression of batwings has become a reality as the vampire transform himself and flies up to and squeezes his large vampire bat form out of the small opening. The moon has risen over his castle as he wings towards it.

 

[Perplexia]

The day had been long as she learned her roles as the new maid. After their meal most went straight to bed. But Eliza sat in her window with a candle light that illuminated her face and she read a book about pirates an their adventures on the seas.

She still had yet to see the Baronet, but that wasn't really as unusual as people made it out out to be. He was a man of great importance. Her job was to keep the assigned rooms clean and stay unseen. She never had to be unseen before. But the cleaning part wasn't new to her.

As she read her book a shadow passed by the window causing her to look out into the night at the bright moon. Nothing was there to see other then the beautiful night sky and the stars that danced around the moon.

Feeling a bit parched she realized she hadn't taken a glass of water with her to bed, so she rose in her night dress and placed on her shoes and robe and went down the servants stair case as quietly as possible. The kitchen was dark and quiet as she made her way to the back door toward the pump. The night air was chilly upon her skin giving her goose bumps. Yet she stood for a moment and basked in the moonlight before working the pump to get some water.

 

[Hard_Rom]

Baronet Percival had been distracted by the image of a beautiful girl's face lit by candle light as he returns to his castle. For a moment he had fluttered outside her window observing her as she read her book. He imagined she was the new maid indentured for a year to pay her father's taxes. He had not expected her to be able to read. The vampire wonders what she is reading. Through the years books had been his only true companions. Other vampires proved to be vicious and cruel, delighting in the torture and torment of their victims. Living humans were just servants or sources of nourishment. His library was his solace in an otherwise empty and lonely existence. The collection he had acquired was truly world class containing works from around the world and dating back to ancient times. Modern works of fiction, economics, politics and comedies could also be found there. A few of his more important castle servants could read as required for their roles but not cleaning wenches. And none were so beautiful. His shadow passes over her window as he flits up to the top of a battlemented tower.

The vampire lord of the castle transforms back to his human guise and lingers atop the tower as he admires the constellations. His inhuman senses hear the sound of the courtyard water pump being used. Jonathon looks down and sees the girl from the window. Stepping to the edge he jumps off. Just before his feet hit the ground he slows his descent and lands as light and quietly as a feather a few yards behind her. A slight breeze brings her scent to him. His senses are momentarily overwhelmed by the scent of her maidenhood. What was that fool of a steward doing bringing a virgin within his walls? If he had not already just fed, Jonathon would have taken her on the spot. Not only does her virginity drive his senses wild, it also protects her from his glamourings. Servants cannot be allowed to think too much on various subjects or ask too many questions. Maybe it is time for a new steward.

Stepping out from the moon cast shadows of the courtyard wall Baronet Jonathon Percival speaks up. His accent an eleventh century mix of Anglo-Saxon and Norseman. Unchanged since he was made a vampire in 1068 AD.

"Good evening," he says.

 

[Perplexia]

Marybeth had just finished working the pump handle for the last time to fill her cup, when she heard the deep accent say "Good Evening". The tone of his voice seemingly reached within her and hugged her soul causing her to loose her breath momentarily.

Turning around her eyes beheld him. She knew immediately that he was the Baron, His clothes were pristine, his long black hair and ivory skin and his deep ice blue eyes that seemed to peer into her.

Frozen at first she gave him a curtsy. "Mi Lord, Good evening I apologize if I disturbed you, I was just getting a cup of water." She kept her eye adverted downward as she was taught was the proper manners for greeting someone above her station.

But oh how she wished to look at him in his eyes. His voice hadn't been scolding or cruel, nor had it been kind and warm. It was simply a greeting without emotion. Her knuckles turned white with the grip she held on her cup.

He hadn't said anything right away so she continued. "My name is Marybeth, i'm your new maid. I wanted to congratulate you on your establishment it is really quite breathtaking. I haven't had the opportunity to see many libraries but I would bet yours is the finest. Your collection is something I could spend hours absorbing. There is such of a wealth of knowledge to be gained by it. Again Mi Lord I apologize if i disturbed you. May I have your permission to take leave and return to my quarters?"

 

[Hard_Rom]

The Baronet is at a loss for words, momentarily. Her curtsy has opened her dressing robe slightly which allows him to glimpse the creamy smoothness of the tops of her breasts. Her hair is of a colour he cannot quite describe. Not blonde but hardly yellow with a just a tint of reddish/orange. The colour of Baltic Sea amber. It looks lovely in the moonlight. Her voice is lovely with her local accent but containing a hint of better breeding than most maids. He wishes she would look up at him so he could see her eyes. Damn that steward for bringing her here! Her whole being assaults his senses.

She talks more than maids usually do, glamoured or not. Normally they don't have much to say of interest but this one, Marybeth she called herself, apparently has an interest in books of all kinds. Being complimented on his library by a maid is quite a unique occurence.

Eventually the vampire is able to remember who he is and who is lord of this castle.

"You have not disturbed me," he lies, "Welcome to Castle Sang."

Sang being French for blood, he thought it quite appropriate when he had it built in the middle of the 16th century. Not many realize the significance of the name. May attribute it to the sound of the wind as it howls and whistles through and around the towers.

The feelings she elicits from him are quite different than the usual ones he feels, few as they are. Hunger yes, but curiousity and interest. These he has not felt in at least one hundred years. There is even a lustful stirring in his loins. Damn the man for bringing her here!

"You may go," he says, not wanting her to.

 

[Perplexia]

There was something about his voice that caused her not to react right away. "Thank you for the welcome mi Lord" she said softly. Her emerald eyes flashed up to his icey blue ones for a moment and she thought she would loose her composure.

Finally tearing them away she gripped both hands on her cup when he said she could go. But she didn't want to. She wanted to hear him talk more and question all of the things he'd learned over his life. She found herself wanting to get to know him and converse with him on a level that her current station didn't permit. But this was not her place. Nor was it likely he would allow her the opportunity.

Somewhere within she had hoped he would grant her access to the books in his library. Yet he did not. It was simply a polite welcome and then a dismissal. Slowly she began to walk past him a slight scent of lavender coming from her hair. "Are you sure there is nothing else i can do for you before I retire Mi Lord?" she questioned "Would you like some wine or the fire stirred?"

It was only polite that she asked, she was after all in his service. He had done a great gratitude by allowing her in his service to work off the taxes that her family owed to him. Perhaps a year or more and she would be returning back to the farm. That was her place, she was a farmers daughter.

She stood merely feet away from him with her head bowed. The closeness to him was one of strange comfort. It was almost as she could feel his confidence and strength through his stature. Silently she waited for his response.

 

[Hard_Rom]

If his fire is stirred anymore it will create a blaze which will engulf and devour her. Baronet Jonathon's head is swimming with images and desires, all imimical to her continued survival. Her mere prescence in his household is dangerous to him too. He has survived this long by keeping a very low profile in the district. Eccentricities in nobility is almost expected but serious rumours of deviancy and disappearing women eventually lead to questions and investigations. The upper-class and learned of society have long stopped believing in such things as withcraft and Satanic possession. But the common folk are almost always ready to believe in such things and burn those they feel are in league with the Devil. The fact that real witches and vampires are much too learned and cautious to be so easily uncovered does not stop innocent village wise women or those with mental delusions from being burnt or hung every now and then. A peasant mob armed with torches and simple weapons are feared by witches, vampires and tyrants. It would be best for all if she was sent back to her family.

"Yes, you may serve me in the library," the vampire has said even before he realizes it, "Await me there."

Jonathon turns and walks away, leaving the courtyard and heads for his steward's chamber. Approaching the door, he waves his hand and the door opens. Silently he enters the steward's bedroom and moves to stand beside his sleeping form. He stretches his arm out towards the man's chest, stopping short of touching him. Splaying out his fingers he grimaces and slowly starts to contract his fingers into a fist as if slowly squeezing. The old man's eyes open and his mouth opens in a silent scream. His hands fly to his chest and clutch at his breast as if suffering a heart attack. It only takes a few seconds and the old man collapses back on the bed, his dead eyes staring up at the ceiling. Without a word the Baronet turns and leaves, closing the door behind him with a slight gesture of his hand.

The vampire stalks back to his library, stopping to regain his composure before silently entering the room. Marybeth is crouched stoking the fire. The colour of the flames is almost a match for her hair. And as she leans forward to push a log further in he can see quite a lot of her heavy breasts hanging down inside her sleeping gown revealed by her almost fully open dressing robe. Damn the man to hell, thinks Jonathon, he got what he deserved!

If one cared to look long enough they would think that the Baronet's shadow cast by the firelight does not seem to follow him exactly as he silently moves towards Marybeth.

"If you wish," he says, "You may pour yourself a glass."

 

[Perplexia]

Marybeth smiled softly as he told her she could serve him in the library. "As you wish" she said almost silently and headed to the dark library. Crouching down in front of the fire place she stirred the small fire that had been left and added a few logs. When he spoke to her again she slowly rose. He had offered her a glass of wine and she knew she couldn't refuse him.

Pour him and her a glass of wine she took a seat in the quiet room staring at the fire. The wine was rich and sweet and danced on her palette like fireworks. "Did you import this wine?" she questioned softly breaking the silence in the room.

Although he was quiet and dark and brooding she didn't feel the imminent danger to herself. How could she? She had no idea that he was a vampire and that her virginity pained him. All she knew was that even in the quiet she enjoyed his company. Perhaps it was his stature, or his accent, or the way he commanded attention by simply entering a room.

"I have not see all of the rooms though this so far and is more then likely to be my favorite." Her emerald eyes danced as she glanced over the large wall filled with books. "Would it be impertinent of me to ask for leisure to borrow one mi Lord?" It then struck her hard that she had severely stepped out of her place. She shouldn't be in his presence, much less drinking wine with him, and now she had the audacity to ask him to borrow one of his treasured books.

"Forgive me" she said quickly. "I forgot my place. If mi Lord needs nothing else i'll retire and leave you to your solitude."

 

[Hard_Rom]

The Baronet is quite content to sit with his face shadowed and just look at Marybeth. She is quite talkative and impertinent for a maid. He should reprimand her. Raping her would be a very good idea. Then he could glamour her like all the other servants. It would be the sensible and safe thing to do. In a year she would return to her family, the glamouring would wear off and she would be free to accuse him of rape. Not that accusations of rape by servant girls against nobiles goes far in the courts. She would be painted as a seducer or sinfully weak and her reputation sullied. He could glamour or buy off her father to avoid such an accusation.

Glamouring dullens the victim though. They live but drab shadows of their former lives with little interest besides serving him. Her interest in books would not survive the change. She would then just be yet another pretty servant wench. It takes more than a fine set of tits and nice head of hair to interest him. He doubts his interest in her would survive the glamouring. It's all so confusing. He hopes the steward's soul is roasting in hell.

"The wine is imported," he says to forestall her leaving, "It is a fortified wine." "That is why it has a a sweet taste."

He fails to warn her that the alcohol content is quite higher than regular wine. Instead he rises and refills her glass himself. Her proximity, scent and the view down her dressing gown make his head swim. The temptation to run his fingers through her hair competes with the urge to rape her or drink her blood.

"It is rare to have a servant girl who can read," Jonathon continues returning to his chair in the shadows, "It would be acceptable for you to read some of my books." "But I forbid their removal from this room."

"You appreciate the value of my books as I do, so I will have you assigned to care for them. You will ensure a fire is kept going during wet weather to keep out the damp. And regularly inspect them for damage."

In this part of England that is wet weather occurs quite often, especially so during the winter. The summers lack the damaging humidity but frequent rains during the other seasons can wreak havoc on late 18th century books.

"Would you like that?" he asks.

 

[Perplexia]

Marybeth was stopped from trying to leave by him simply refilling her glass and telling her about the wine. She was already feeling a bit light headed but didn't wish to be ungracious to the Baron.

She could listen to him talk all night and hung on his every word. There was a change in his voice as he talked about the books and their importance. It was almost as if he too took his solace in them.

Almost wishing she could tell what was on his mind she watched him in the shadows. he had mentioned how rare it was for servants to read.

"I would be honored to be their keeper." she replied with a smile in her voice. "My mother was a lady in waiting. She was quite educated and even though she fell in love with a farmer that was much below her station she was adamant about our education. I may never be anything more then a wife of a farmer in the future, but i will always have books to live through. I suppose its quite likely that my future husband will reject the idea and forbid me from reading. If that happens I think a part of me should die. But i'll always have the memories of what has been read."

It was then she was silent and realized that marrying a farmer and being forbidden to read would leave her most unhappy. But that was her station in life, and she had to except that.

"I apologize if I've talked to much, I think the wine has gone to my head. I will start first thing tomorrow on my inspection and logging of the books. With your permission Mi Lord I shall return to my room, and thank you for the great opportunity you've allotted me i shall not let you down."

Marybeth didn't wish to leave him, there was so many questions she had for him about what he's read and where he's journeyed but those weren't questions she should ask. He was not her equal, he was a Baron, and she was simply a servant girl whose family owed him.

 

[Hard_Rom]

For her own safety Baronet Percival allows her to retire.

"You have my permission to retire, Marybeth," Jonathon replies, "We will talk tomorrow night when I return to the castle." "Good night."

His eyes follow her as she departs the library. He continues to damn his now dead steward for bringing such a delectable and dangerous thing into his household. Draining his wine glass the vampire leaves the library and climbs to the tower battlements. He lingers momentarily staring at the moon, then changes and flits away. His hungers and lusts have been greatly aroused and if Marybeth is to remain safe in his prescence he must satiate them.

For an hour he wings swiftly north through the cold fall night sky until he is well beyond his lands. An isolated cottage with a small sheep pen attracts his attention. Flying down, the vampire flits about the windows of the cottage scenting out it's occupants. Only a man, his wife and a dog are inside. The man and wife abed. He flies to the sheep pen, where the sheep react nervously to the flying creature above them. Landing with the sheep pen between him and the cottage he transforms. But not to a human form but to a macabre half wolf half man form of great size. Almost immediately the sheep react. Even though it has been a generation since a wolf was seen in this region, the sheep instinctively recognize their mortal enemy.

The panicking bleating sheep quickly arouse the cottager's dog and the man himself. Arming himself with an axe the man and his dog step out of the cottage.

"Oos 'at thayn," calls out the cottager, "Gerway er I'll be setten dog on thee."

The man advances across the farmyard his dog at his heels. Halfway across the yard, the dog gets a scent of the werewolf. It yelps piteously and flees the farmyard.

"Eer, where thy b'goin'?" exclaims the farmer.

He peers forward into the dark. And the vampire/werewolf attacks, leaping across farmyard in a single bound to take the farmer by the throat. He dies instantly and without a sound other than a cutoff strangling sound as the creature tears out his throat.

"Oo's it thayn, Colin?" calls the cottager's wife from the door of the cottage as she peers into the dark.

The werewolf stalks forwards from the shadows of the farmyard, blood dripping from his maw.

"Colin!" the woman screams and slams the door of the cottage closed.

Brandishing a fire poker in her hand the terrified woman stares at the cottage door. When the werewolf crashes through the heavy door, she screams. When he turns his gaze upon her, she drops the fire poker. The werewolf rises onto two feet and moves towards her. She makes no move to flee or defend herself but just returns his steady gaze.

Half an hour later the werewolf stalks from the cottage, his lusts and hungers satiated, for now. Behind him the naked body of the cottager's wife is sprawled across the dining table with her throat torn out and blood covering her thighs. The werewolf becomes the vampire bat and lifts off the ground and heads back to the castle.

 

[Perplexia]

When he gave her permission to leave it saddened her. She wanted to stay and talk with him, or perhaps at him was the better phrase. He didn't say much, but when he did speak it lifted and enlightened her senses. Perhaps it was just his accent, or his dashing good looks.

She rose from the chair thanked him again and curtsied turning and leaving the room for hers. There wasn't a soul she could confide in about him. Not that she had anything to really confide. But she went to sleep with his eyes and face in her mind. He wished to continue their conversation the next night, that was something.

In the morning she rose and put on her uniform. When she went down for breakfast there was tears all around. Evidently the new steward had a heart attack and died sometime in the middle of the night.

"You're to work in the library from now on" the head housekeeper told her. "The Master gave specific instructions you alone were to have the key. I don't know what makes you so special to be singled out. We did just fine before you arrived. Don't you get any notions that you're special you're just a servant"
Marybeth lowered her head "Yes Miss" she replied taking the key and finishing her portage.

With the weather still being wet and mucky Marybeth first started back up the fire as the Baron had requested. She began with the far wall and the top shelf taking out the first book. Documenting the title and its condition she gave it a good cleaning and moved on to the second. When lunch time arrived she was only partially done with the second row. This was a task in itself.

By dinner time she had almost gotten through the fourth. Continuing after dinner after others had retired she worked on finishing up the first of five shelves.

 

[Hard_Rom]

The vampire stands up over the nearly dead girl in his tomb. She hadn't even struggled this time. A bad sign. Tomorrow night he would have to find a new one. But not this night. For the first time in many many years he looks forward to another night of being in this world. So he hurries as he flies through and over the forest that surrounds his castle. He hurries back to Marybeth.

He finds her still working late into the night over his library. With his usual death like silence he watches her from the door to the library. She is bent over a ledger probably cataloguing his collection, a lantern by her elbow. He can see, with his inhuman sight, that a good few of his collection have had a good cleaning already. A fire blazes in the hearth driving out the northern England early winter damp.

The vampire glides silently across the library to the girl bent intently over her books.

"Good evening, Marybeth," he says from a few feet behind her, "You have been busy." "I hope you are not overworking yourself."

 

[Perplexia]

She jumps when she hears his voice and nearly topples the lamp catching quickly and lightly burning her finger. "ouch" she mutters taking her finger to her mouth to sooth the burning flesh.

With a curtsy she smiles "Good Evening Mi Lord, No Sir i haven't been over working myself. I find great pleasure in cataloging your books. You have a lot of great works from just what I've had the pleasure handling so far. I've almost completed the first shelf and there is already so much of a selection I don't know where to start when I get the chance to read one." She closed her lips and turned back to straighten the papers and call it a night for work. "Would you like some wine sir?"

Marybeth put the papers in a neat stack with her graphite tool, and walked over to the fire crouching down to stir it proper and get it to last through out the night. She awaited his decision on wine as she stirred the wood and placed a new log on it.

 

[Hard_Rom]

Jonathon vows not to startle her again. An almost painful grimace had flashed across his own face when Marybeth burned her fingers. He does not answer her question concerning wine but instead moves to pour two large glasses of the fortified wine, while she tends the fire.

"I am sorry for startling you," he says, "Please join me in a glass." "And let me see your hand."

He hands Marybeth a glass of wine and has her sit by the fire, while he takes her injured hand gently in his own hand. The feeling of a vampire's skin is never described as warm. But her's feels so very warm and alive, he thinks. He can almost feel her warmth spreading through his own cold hands. Bending low over her hand he blows on her reddened finger tips, his breath lacking warmth as much as his touch.

"You must remember I am lord of this castle," he says with a smile to deflect the demure rejection of his ministrations, "And disobedience will not be tolerated." "Even from you."

He takes a clean handerkerchief from his sleeve and wets it in the wine. Wrapping it around her slightly burnt fingers.

"I am sorry I hurt you," the vampire says softly, "Please forgive me."

 

[Perplexia]

"I wouldn't think of disobeying Mi Lord" she said to reassure him of her servitude."Thank you for wrapping my finger, It's not your fault that i was clumsy. Your forgiveness though appreciated is not necessary. She did notice the coolness of his touch but it felt good on her heated skin.

She took the glass of wine he offered and smiled softly taking a sip. Following him over to the chairs she waited for him to be seated before she took a seat in the chair that she had the night before. She hoped this would become a ritual between them.

"Please allow me to offer my condolences on the loss of your steward. From what i heard he had been with you for some time. I wish you the best of luck in find a replacement."

Marybeth was quiet as to why she only heard about it, and wasn't told. He didn't need to concern himself with her being alienated due to the role he assigned her. She felt she would seem ungracious if she complained about anything.

"Did you have a productive day today mi Lord?" she questioned trying to make idol conversation.

 

[Hard_Rom]

Jonathon shrugs and says, "It was a day like all the others before." "My steward had begun to fail me in the last while. It may take some time to replace him. We are somewhat isolated here and those competent enough to run an estate are few in the region. I may have to take on his responsibilities myself for a time."

The Baronet could care less about the man. It's not so much as a lack of emotions as a jaded attitude. It takes much to awaken his interest after seven centuries of existance.

"In fact, I will be away for a few days while I take care of some urgent business."

"I can see you have been busy," he asks with far more emotion than shown over his dead steward, "You have done well. I commend you on your work."

"What kind of book do you like to read? I myself like the sciences. At least they are something new. Or at least newly discovered."

When you have existed for seven centuries, histories are not "new". With seven centuries of time to think, philosophies are not all that revealing.

"I must admit fictional stories are quite good."

One can live the life one is denied by being a vampire through cruder forms of fiction.

 

[Perplexia]

Marybeth was a bit surprised that he seemed so cavalier about the stewards death, and even more so that he chose to reveal to her his failing of his duties. She didn't say anything however. He continued to tell her that he would be away for a few days and she found herself saddened by the news. Their accaintance had just begun to be formed and would have a gap.

She smiled when he mentioned the books he liked to read. Science being one of his favorites she wouldn't have guessed. But she didn't really know him that well. He wasn't forth coming with information. He also wasn't a very warm person. But he did seem conflicted that she was injured. That had to say something for his character.

"I like to read stories of pirates and treasures" she advised taking another sip of wine. "I also find fiction interesting as well. I enjoy reading about new things that have been discovered as well as what has occurred in the past. I really find history fascinating. Imagine if you could live forever all of the the knowledge you'd accumulate. To know how things really happened compared to what was written, and the accurate depiction. I guess the only thing we'll ever have to go on is the written word."

"Forgive me the wine seems to loosen my tongue more then is appropriate"

 

[Hard_Rom]

"There is nothing to forgive," Jonathon says, "What could be more appropriate than a discussion of books with my cataloger?" "I would discuss hounds with a master of the hunt and horses with a groom."

"As for living for ever that is a hell in it's self...," the vampire says, "Or so I would imagine." "How long before one tires of life itself? Jaded by what is exotic and new to mortals. To see loved ones grow old and die, time and time again. To be denied the glory of heaven after a normal life and death. To be reunited in heaven with those who have departed this world."

The centuries old Baronet of Castle Blood drains his wine glass, arises to take up a decanter and refill his glass. Topping up Marybeth's before he puts it down.

"No, not histories for me," he continues, "Science though that is the future, the new, the undiscovered." "Perhaps one day the secret to life... and death itself."

"Now you must forgive me. I wax melancholic." "Pirates and treasure, eh? Adventure and excitement on the high seas."

He gets up from his chair again and selects two volumes of books, which he places on a small table besdie Marybeth before taking his chair again..

"A General History of the Pyrates by Captain Charles Johnson. You will find the biography of Anne Bonny in the first volume. Her and Mary Read."

 

[Perplexia]

"No forgiveness required. You've opened my eyes to a new perspective. I can see how living forever may become mundane. History wouldn't interest because you've lived through it, and if you were immortal you couldn't tell anyone unless the whole world became that way. You're right it would be difficult to live through the lives of those you cared for. I suppose one might become solitude in a way. It could be a lonely existence. I would think that would be a way for one to loose humanity as well."she signed and went off into deep thought for a moment

"thank you" she said as he topped off her glass. She watched as he rose and grabbed two novels off the book shelf and set them down. She listened as he explained what they were about.

She smiled and stroked one of the books. "You have managed to combine my two favorite things into one. I look forward to having the opportunity to read these. thank you" she smiled again and took another sip of wine.

Marybeth enjoyed that he was more talkative this evening. Her eyes danced as she watched the fire then slowly rose to place a couple more logs on it. "I hope that your business that takes you away from the castle is fruitful" she said softly breaking the silence.

 

[Hard_Rom]

If she only knew, Jonathon thinks, she would run screaming. He watches as she feeds the fire wondering what he is doing with her. Or more correctly, what is he going to do with her. Send her away? And go back to lonely nights with no one to talk to. Just his books for company. Waste her beauty and intelligence by chaining her to a wall and feed off her for a month or so. Maybe he should leave Britain. Go to the continent. The American war was winding down. Peace will breakout and and Englishmen would be free to travel across Europe. Lots of hunting opportunities there. Join a vampire clan? Vicious fools with no interest beyond bloody murder and hedonistic pleasures.

He could turn her! It had been a long time since he had created one of his own. The thought of inflicting an undying life on anyone is abhorrent to him. He hates his own life, to inflict that torment on another just to satisfy his own selfish need for companionship is just cruel. Baronet Percival does not kill for pleasure or to inflict intentional cruelty. He kills because he must. To not kill is to die. Slowly and painfully. Months if not years of pain and starvation. And at the end of it, what, an eternity in hell?

"But that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country, from whose bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have," the vampire intones softly.

Jonathon drains his glass and stands. He goes to the decanter and refills his glass yet again. He can get drunk but it takes a lot.

"Leave me!" he says sharply and suddenly, "I wish to be alone."

 

[Perplexia]

Just as she was about to comment on the sentence he spoke he abruptly orders her to leave claiming he wished to be alone. She wonders if it was something she said. But doesn't question. Instead she places down the poker rises and turns to him give him a slight curtsy with her head down and scurries quickly from the room.

He just reminded her once again that she was simply a servant in his household. She didn't cry but she wanted to from the fear of offending him with something she said. Retiring to her room she dressed in her night gown and crawled into bed curling up under the cover.

Over and over her words she went looking for anything that could have offended him. Perhaps it was simply that she talked to much, or offered her insight freely. Regardless of the reason he had ordered her to leave his side.

Marybeth continued her routine for the next few nights and took the time that they would have spent together to start reading the history of pirates that he had left for her. She was fascinated by the lives these women had led and their ability to be fierce and ruthless. She hadn't thought about that being possible in a woman's demure but part of her was excited by it. History told her that not every woman had to lead the life of obscurity.

The staff continued to treat her like an outsider due to her job in the library. Sometimes it bothered her, but she was happy with the post she was given. It was a great honor to clean and catalog all of his books. The wood that she went through was complained about as she seemed to always keep a fire in the library to ensure the well being of the books.

She had only been privilege to two nights of his companionship yet she found she missed it, and looked forward to his return. It was common for a Master of the house to disappear for months at a time, coming and going as he chose. So she had no way to anticipate if and when he would return.

 

[Hard_Rom]

The Baronet had left his new food creature chained and entombed within his mausoleum four nights after leaving Marybeth. A rather plump virgin purchased from a poor family in Newcastle. She had chattered incesstantly for the two day drive back to his estate. Ecstatic over her new perceived role as a maid in in household. The windows of the barouche were heavily curtained during the daylight hours and he insisted she sleep when he did. His coachman stopped in the mornings amidst heavy woods and slept beneath the coach. When his glamoured coachman had stopped in the forest and Jonathon had led her to the mausoleum, she still talked on and on about nothing.

She had finally gone quiet when he pulled aside the massive engraved stone that sealed the vault by himself with ease. When the stench of death and rot had come to her nostrils he had to drag her inside. She had cowered in the darkness as he dragged the stone plug back in place to entomb them within. Previous to going to Newcastle he had dispatched the almost dead creature held in his mausoleum. He himself had dug a shallow grave for her remains, said some entirely empty words over her grave and left. In the pitch black of the tomb, Baronet Percival had easliy over-powered, stripped and chained the now screaming and struggling plump virgin. She had begged and pled for mercy, even offered up her maidenhood if he released her. The whole time Jonathon had not said a word.

He fed somewhat heavily from her. It had been a few days since he had last fed. But not enough to seriously threaten her life. She was young, plump and healthy and would provide him with nourishment easily for a month. The tomb was quite damp and puddles of water cover the floor. A dead hare was left for her to eat when she got hungry. Aside from annoyance at her prattling, the whole affair was an unemotional one for him. He left her half-concious and mewling slightly, chained naked to the wall with a nasty bit on the back of her plump thigh.

With an empty heart and a full belly, the vampire wings back to Marybeth.

 

[Perplexia]

The fire glowed and flickered as she stirred it to a nice blaze. Sitting on the floor she curled her legs and read the end of the first book he'd given her. To her credit she was a fast reader. She absorbed much of the book and contemplated what it would take to become a pirate of the seas.

Did she have the heart to steal, plunder and make people walk the plank? Smiling softly at the thought she continued to read a bit more. A bit more into it she heard the door open. Her head turned and she looked up to see the embodiment of the Baron.

"Mi Lord, anything i can get for you before i retire?" she questioned picking up the book and rising to place it on the table once more. She kept her head low and awaited his answer. She wasn't about to make the assumption that he wished for her company. No doubt he was tired after his journey. But she was glad to see him back at the castle.