Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire by P.N. Elrod

Author:P.N. Elrod [Elrod, P.N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DarkStar Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Day by day, over the next few weeks Elizabeth strove to regain herself. She spent most of her time with Father in the library, just sitting and reading, or sewing, or doing nothing much at all while he worked. He talked to her when she felt like it, or listened, or held her when she cried, as did I. On nights when she could not sleep, I took his place and kept her company. We would sit in the dark with the window open to the summer night and listen to whatever sounds the warm air carried in.

One evening after everyone else was gone to bed she asked me to bring down a large, heavy sack from her room and carry it out to the trash burning pile far behind the house. I did so without question. She lighted a fire, then untied the end of the sack, which was several feet long and stuffed full like a pillow. With no small shock I realized it was originally a body shroud, the sides tightly sewn up. It might have been her own. We all had one against the day of our death.

From it, she drew forth her wedding dress. She shook it out, then threw it into the growing flames. The pale silk burned swiftly, but she kept things going by emptying the shroud of its remaining contents, a collection of fine linens and the garments that made up her extensive trousseau. She even burned the shroud.

I looked on, worried, but she seemed pleased by the bonfire, holding her palms out toward its heat, though it was a mild night. Elizabeth used a long stick to make sure no scrap escaped. One almost did. A small bit of a handkerchief, lifted up by the hot air, floated several feet above us for a few moments, twisting like a live thing. The edges glowed, turning black as it was consumed, then it vanished entirely.

“Did you see?” she whispered. “Did you see?”

I had, and it fair sent a shiver right through me, as though invisible things in the darkness beyond the fire looked down upon our little ceremony.

Elizabeth stayed until everything was gone and the last coals turned white and died. Afterwards she went limp, near to fainting, and I almost had to carry her back to the house. She lay on the library settee, sipped a brandy, then fell into a profound slumber. I draped a coverlet over her and kept watch the rest of the night until Jericho, up before dawn as usual, chanced to come in. He asked for no explanation, only roused young Sheba out to take over for the day. I later heard Elizabeth did not wake until well into the afternoon and then took her tea with Cousin Anne as though nothing at all was amiss. Anne, having been provided some warning from Jericho, made no comment about Elizabeth’s smoky, soot-smudged, and slept-in clothes.

Norwood’s funeral was singular and private service, barred to those outside the immediate family.

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