- - -
After most couples had promenaded into the large ball room, Lilith found herself a seat skirting the edge of the dance floor where she sat with Miss Dalton. Miss Dalton gazed with an almost dreamy quality – Lilith could see her lips soften around the edges as she watched people carry their bodies gracefully across the floor, they skirts whisking around their ankles as they moved with languid beauty. Lilith could only now realize that Miss Dalton still dreamed of marriage; yet, she was stuck monitoring Lilith for the evening, instead of enjoying herself.
“You could go dance, if you wanted, Miss Dalton.” Miss Dalton looked up a Lilith, her eyes revealing to Lilith her scepticism. Lilith breathed out a sigh and slumped farther down in her chair.
“Sit up, Miss Farthing,” Miss Dalton commanded. “And I will do nothing of the sort – you are my charge, and I shall keep in charge of you! Now sit up!”
Lilith huffed as she sat straight again, her legs restless from inactivity. They felt stiff and sore from just sitting there. She’d tried crossing them at the ankles or otherwise, but nothing seemed to work. She stood abruptly, hitting her fan on the back of the chair for effect. “I should rather enjoy some refreshments,” Lilith announced, starting towards the small room tucked away in the far corner of the ballroom. Miss Dalton followed quick in pace behind Lilith, her footfalls curt and important, much like her personality.
The walls were a washed-out pink, much complimentary to the light pastel yellow of the ballroom. The ceilings rose nearly as high as the others, with the same arch and pillars that stood in the four corners. Small chairs and couches had been splayed in various, discreet parts of the room. A fireplace crackled in the wooden, ivory frame, looking rustic and picturesque. A wide, long table had been set, covered in a frilled white tablecloth. A variety of treats and pastries were perched on them, already picked at, the crumbs to prove it. A wide, crystal punch bowl boasted a deep red liquid – “Cranberry juice” Miss Dalton told her.
Lilith took a small plate and put on it a few cracker-bonbons on it, along with a slice of apple cake. Miss Dalton looked down her nose at Lilith disapprovingly, but did not protest. Instead, Miss Dalton poured herself a cup of black coffee and followed Lilith to a pair of wing-backed chairs near the fire.
A petite, dainty young girl had buried her head in her hands. Her mother – or so Lilith suspected – patted her back lightly, attempting to comfort her in low murmurs. Lilith could pick out words, here and there. “Sh, sh, ne vous inquiétez pas … oubliez lui.” The girl looked up, attempting to hide her tear-stained face by quickly wiping at her cheeks. Her mother looked on condescendingly, her eyes flashing with disappointment. The girl was pretty – or so Lilith begrudgingly admitted. She had a pert, pinched nose and tiny plump lips painted a perfect shade of crimson that paled her skin. Her hair was half tied – somewhat like Lilith’s – except that more ringlets bounced around her head, reaching only to her tiny shoulders.
Her mother gave her a quick pat on the cheek twice and stood, murmuring to her more before the girl had dried her tears and trailed out after her mother, still sniffling. Lilith glanced over at Miss Dalton who shook her head, twirling the black coffee in her saucer. Lilith turned and glared into the fire, wishing she were any but the party; she didn’t like feeling so on display, or feeling so constricted. She maybe even missed the orphanage – there was more freedom.
“Don’t look so glum, Miss Farthing. If you’re finished we may go out and find you a dance, if you’d like.”
Lilith looked down at her card. Truthfully, she was supposed to be dancing with a poor watery-eyed boy name Hubert. When he’d asked Lilith to dance, Lilith noted immediately how round his waist was, and how he looked about ready to burst all the buttons on his vest off if he took too deep a breath. Yet he hadn’t appeared at all when the polka mazurka started, so Lilith had decided to head for some refreshments.
“I’d rather not dance with Mr. Hubert Lawly.”
“No, Lilith, it is that you rather would. Don’t hurt Mr. Lawly’s pride more than I suspect it already has been.”
Lilith glanced sideways at Miss Dalton, who quietly sipped at her tea. She was fascinated to hear this tale. “What do you mean by that statement, Miss Dalton?”
“It isn’t any business of yours, now eat up.”
“I shan’t eat unless I hear this tale – do tell.”
Miss Dalton gave her trademark sigh of exasperation and tried to roll her eyes discreetly. She placed her cup back on her saucer and looked at Lilith with a look of utter boredom. “Mr. Lawly has been in attempt to court many lovely young ladies over the years, but hasn’t been able to find himself one that will take him – what is it Miss Farthing?” Miss Dalton knew already that when Lilith raised her eyebrows she had something she’d like to say.
“How old is Mr. Lawly? He looks about fourteen.”
“He looks fourteen, but he’s actually ten years older than that – twenty-four. Now, on with my story,” Miss Dalton said, never missing a beat. “Mr. Lawly had asked recently to join your uncle’s club, or at least, the one he’s involved in. Mr. Lawly was denied rather rudely, and decided that the only way he could get into the club was to ask your uncle for employment. He was turned away quite rudely, too. I sometimes still think I hear his laughter echoing through the house – it is quite large.”
Lilith nodded, a smirk evident on her face. Mr. Lawly’s story was everything Lilith could’ve imagined in a past for him. Miss Dalton snatched Lilith’s card from her hand. “Well, I cannot say I blame you, Lilith, but it is quite rude …”
Lilith shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whomever said I was polite? I was raised as an orphanage savage.”
“There is nothing wrong with coming from an orphanage,” Miss Dalton grunted.
Lilith rolled her eyes on the contrary. “No, Miss Dalton; I’ve seen the way people look at me, almost with disgust.”
Miss Dalton changed the conversation by promptly snatching Lilith’s card from her hand and observing it. Her eyes skimmed over the entries – only three, thus far – before she decided to stand. “Shall we then, Miss Farthing?”
Lilith tried to hide her sigh, reluctantly succeeding Miss Dalton with heavy feet. She hadn’t dance a single song yet, but she was increasingly growing worried by her dress, finding it more and more difficult to even walk in it.
“Miss Dalton! Lilith, dear!”
Miss Dalton and Lilith were intercepted by uncle Osmond, who looked positively pleased to see the pair. “Do come, Lilith, I’d like to introduce you to an acquaintance.”
Osmond led the pair through the maze of mingling persons, before he swept an arm out in front of him. “Maybe I introduce to you, Mister Anthonie, and his son, the dashing and handsome, Master Anthonie.” Osmond’s introduction was quite eager. Mr. Anthonie stepped forth first, shaking Lilith hand, then Miss Dalton’s. The son, “Master Anthonie”, as Osmond had called him, stepped toward Lilith and shook her hand gently, introducing himself as Walter.
“I think you’re rather too kind to the old chap,” Mr. Anthonie said, smirking. His son’s smirk was like his, mischievous, yet it made him look much younger – like a devilish boy. The pair shared common ground with loose curls of perfect, coal black. Both had green eyes – Mr. Anthonie’s a shade darker than his son’s. Walter had mint green eyes that gradually darkened, the iris skirted in a forest green colour. They didn’t sound Irish to Lilith, however.
While Osmond introduced Lilith as the “poor, unfortunate soul” that he’d rescued from the orphanage, Walter observed her, before asking, “Any room left on that card for another poor gentleman?”
Miss Dalton sniffed. Walter took her reaction as a cue, and bowed low, sweeping out his arm. “Will you favour me your hand for this dance?”
Miss Dalton looked down at Lilith through her half-lidded eyes and nodded. Lilith couldn’t object, so she quietly mumbled, “Yes.”
Walter led Lilith to the dance floor, where various couples jostled around before the gallop was the start. The band struck up a faster-paced tune, if only slightly, and everyone took up arms and began dancing. Lilith, unprepared, was suddenly yanked sideways by Walter who began bouncing away across the dance floor, leading her in the jolting dance.
Lilith huffed, eyes wide. “I forgot how much I dislike the gallop.”
“Are you saying that as an excuse to escape?” Walter gave his mischievous smirk and changed direction, following along with the crowd. Lilith’s lips tightened. Can he read minds? She thought to herself, wondering if she’d spoken aloud when she caught Walter’s raised brow.
“I’ve never been much of a fan of leaping across the floor.”
“It’s rather a sophisticate’s dance,” Walter said, taking on a nasally tone, mocking an old dandy. Lilith found herself genuinely smiling at his statement. “Only the best bounce across the floor. It quite helps in getting from one end of the room to the other.”
Walter helped to turn them round again so that they headed toward the east wall, still skipping and hopping. A pigeon-chested woman and scrawny, narrow-faced man came bumbling toward them. Walter spun Lilith so that they didn’t crash into her.
“I wouldn’t want to have you bludgeoned, now,” Walter licked the corner of his lip. “I have a feeling that your uncle wouldn’t be too pleased.” The couple thundered by, practically knocking a stick-thin woman out of the way in the midst. She scowled at the man and left. He trailed after her, attempting apology.
Lilith grinned wide. “I never thought the dance floor to be filled with such dangers!”
Walter nodded, looking wise and airy. He fluttered his eyes in a jest. “Yes, yes, you must be quite careful on the floor; it isn’t safe for a woman to venture alone – that is why she must be accompanied by a man.”
Lilith found herself genuinely relishing in the enjoyment of it all. Walter was neither uptight nor arrogant, but rather had a sense of humour that touched base to Lilith’s. They parted after the song’s end, and Walter disappeared into the ground. Lilith felt flushed as she started toward Miss Dalton. An abrupt chorus of squeals and giggles resounded at the doorway. The older ladies and gentlemen muttered their disapproval. Lilith curiously meandered over to inspect. The crowd swayed and moved, consisting mostly of girls, all around Lilith’s age. From her spot, Lilith could glimpse of the top of a silver-blonde head, matching nearly in colour to hers, and fingers waving in reply to all the women.
“That’s Hugh St. Vincent.”
Lilith looked up to catch a tall, slender girl standing before her. She had dark, ragged curls that she’d pulled back with a sort of plait, a flower of bright red tucked in her ear. Her dress was an elaborate stream of perfect fabric flowers and a train that commanded attention, just as the girl did. She had a heart-shaped, open face with deep brown eyes – almost black. She grinned at Lilith’s befuddlement.
“And that is …?”
“Well, he is practically like royalty around here – a celebrity of sorts. He claims to be a famous hunter of the evil demons that plague our world; vampires, werewolves, withes …,” the girl ticked off the list on her fingers. “It doesn’t help that the phony gets all his publicity due to that fact he’s quite handsome.”
A girl with an alarmingly pig-like nose turned and snarled at them. “He is not a phony as such! He rescued my family from being haunted by an evil ghost who inhabited my bedroom … I think he was rather smitten with me!” She tittered and turned back to the crowd that pulsed and moved after the man.
The dark-haired girl curtseyed to Lilith half-heartedly, and said, “How do you do?” in a bored voice. Her manners were much like Lilith’s, the blonde noted.
“Lilith Farthing,” Lilith said, nodding her head to the girl.
“Evangeline Higgins.” Lilith could immediately recognize the girl as the commodore’s daughter – the almond-shaped brown eyes, and the way they seemed narrowed slightly in scrutiny. She also carried herself with the same important, demanding air as the commodore. “And you” – she said, pointing a finger almost accusingly at Lilith – “are Osmond Stonfeather’s orphan niece, aren’t you?”
“Yes. And the world seems to hate me for it.”
Evangeline shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. You see, they’re only uncertain about you because they believe this is just Mr. Stonefeather’s attempt at a charitable act. To gain some more points on his reputation, you know.”
“Why would he ever need that?” Lilith’s brow furrowed. Uncle Osmond had a bad reputation? She was curious to know why things were as such.
Evangeline gestured for Lilith to follow along with her. “Well, rumours have been going around that Osmond Stonefeather has been taking part in occult activities.”
Lilith drew in a breath. Occults? She could never imagine her mostly-jolly uncle being involved in such wicked, evil acts. She bid Evangeline tell the truth, hoping she hadn’t been dragged into some strange, evil homestead.
“Oh, not to worry,” she said, giving a succession of short giggles. “It isn’t true – not a word of it. Osmond truly is a kind man, even if he is doing all wrong in the romance department … But he isn’t an occultist. He and my father attend the same club. Mr. Stonefeather would never have the time to join an occult – he’s much too busy with his paper and the club and all.”
Lilith nodded, almost relieved by this fact. She’d heard of the nasty killers going around, killing women and men alike – all of whom had disappeared without a single trace, only to turn up with throats, arms, legs, stomachs slit, practically drained of blood. Her uncle had published a succession of articles on it, gathering the interest of all the city with the amount that he’d managed to dig up. It was almost like insider information.
“Miss Farthing!” Lilith looked up at the exasperated sound of her name. Miss Dalton was hurrying toward Lilith and Evangeline, clutching onto her skirts.
“Is that your chaperone?” Evangeline asked, leaning over to whisper into Lilith’s ear.
“Yes, where is yours?” Lilith caught the glint in Evangeline’s eyes.
“She’s fallen asleep.” Evangeline’s eyes held a hint of mischief and secrecy. Her smirk told Lilith she may have had a hand in it. Lilith shrugged it off, and sighed, wishing she could be in Evangeline’s place right now – or in a cab on her way home.
“Lucky you, then,” Lilith sighed, stepping forward.
Miss Dalton stopped short upon seeing Lilith and her new acquaintance. She looked up at Evangeline, relishing in the girl’s beauty, but unfortunate height. “Not going to introduce us, Lilith?”
“Oh, yes,” Lilith said, quickly nodding to Evangeline and back to Miss Dalton. Clearly displeased with the introduction, Miss Dalton leaned forward and grasped Evangeline’s hand in a proper greeting.
“Miss Dalton, I was wondering if it would be acceptable for Lilith and I to walk around a bit together – I seem to have lost my chaperone, but I’m still a bit breathless from my last dance.”
Miss Dalton twisted her lips together, measuring the proposal before giving a curt nod. “That’s acceptable, I should think.”
Evangeline led Lilith around the room, talking of how all the girls her age were so unbelievably boring, and that none were like Lilith in the slightest. “You seem different,” she said. “They’re all uptight and ‘hoity-toity’. I don’t like it.”
Lilith smirked, speaking in a condescending tone. “I think I’ve found only two interesting people so far – you, and Walter Anthonie.”
“Walter?” Evangeline said, looking over at Lilith. “I think he’s quite boring, actually. Never has anything interesting to talk about – he only make faces and voices, and that’s it. The act gets boring after a while.” Evangeline did look bored. She twisted her mouth to the side and carried on, whispering to Lilith about “Mr. Rich Man” and “Miss America”.
“Oh, the Somers look absolutely heartbroken!” Evangeline sounded triumphant, her eyes dancing. “My parents are such to be pleased!”
Lilith quirked an eyebrow; “And why is that?”
Evangeline shrugged her perfectly square, narrow shoulders. “The Somers have come from France simply to put on a better show than our family. We’ve been known to host the Christmas party, but last year they tried to take it. It was an okay affair – quite normal – but they seemed to look down their noses at us. We stole back our spot and voila!” Evangeline lifted her arms, gesturing to the whole room that encompassed the girls.
They stepped by the mother and daughter pair; the girl’s mother hissed at her again in their native tongue, waggling her finger at her. Lilith jabbed Evangeline’s side. “Why is the girl blubbering so?”
Evangeline’s face lit up a mite. She looked as proud as ever, her features darkening. “Annette Sommers has just had her heart broken by Edmund Hardy – my cousin.”
Lilith wanted to pry more, but Miss Dalton cleared her throat behind them. I forgot about her, Lilith thought, carrying on behind Evangeline. A waltz took up arms again, leading the dancers in its calm lull. Evangeline snapped her fingers. “Curse,” she murmured, attempting to shuffle behind a group of tall gentlemen who were even larger than Evangeline. The plump Mr. Lawly headed toward them, his eyes searching the crowd with zeal. Finally he spotted Evangeline, rushing his short legs in their general direction.
Evangeline sighed, giving herself up. She held out her hand for Mr. Lawly, her whisked her away onto the dance floor. Evangeline looked back, giving Lilith a look with her dark eyes – one that said “I’ll get you back”, although Lilith hadn’t done a thing. She smirked at Evangeline’s discomfort, watching the two spin around on the dance floor. Hubert Lawly reached on to Evangeline’s bosom – maybe even less – but he steered her around stiffly, like a child who’d nearly been thrown by an unruly pony. Mr. Lawly looked reluctant to ever let go of Evangeline; his grip said he never would.
Miss Dalton tsked her tongue, coming to Lilith’s side. “Terrible girl, isn’t she? Only has a something bad to say about everyone here, not praises in the slightest.”
“I find her quite interesting,” Lilith admitted without hesitation. She looked coolly over at Miss Dalton. “She, at least, isn’t trying to fit to society … but rather pointing out all their downfalls and living above them.”
“Miss Farthing!” Miss Dalton gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. “You apologize this instant.”
Lilith’s look told Miss Dalton she hadn’t any plan to do as such. Miss Dalton surveyed her with contempt, and commanded Lilith to follow her. Lilith, lips tight, shoulders proud, followed after Miss Dalton, not regretting what she’d said. Miss Dalton led her to a shadowed corner in the room, scolding her with a long finger. “Adjustment may be hard for you, but there is little excuse to laugh at others’ short-comings. You have many yourself – just be glad that people are willing to excuse you this evening. If they didn’t know of your cause, they might not be so willing.”
Lilith blanched at Miss Dalton. Excuse me? She thought in confusion, closing her mouth tightly. She’d thought people had been so disapproving due to the fact that she was an orphan – the fact that she wasn’t of “good breeding”. She didn’t even know where she came from … let alone know how the world worked. Lilith could feel herself fuming with intense dislike for Miss Dalton.
“I’m sorry, Miss Dalton,” Lilith said, bowing her head.
Miss Dalton finished her enraged speech with a “You should be”, before she motioned to Evangeline who spun a circle. “Don’t let her convince you into being someone you aren’t.”
Lilith nodded in compliance, still fuming over Miss Dalton’s scolding. She felt like an insolent child again – not like a woman who had just made her debut. Miss Dalton led Lilith to the chairs again where they sat. Miss Dalton clutched Lilith’s card tightly in her fingers, her jaw set in anger. Lilith was uncertain of how she should act – if she wanted to be cool and wicked, or if she rather wanted to mend things. Miss Dalton brought conversation upon the pair, however, breathing out her exasperated sigh. “Such disgusting behaviour,” she growled, referring to a group of girls who fanned furiously in the hopes of catching the attention of a blonde-haired man.
He had his thick silvery-blonde hair parted and slicked upward, almost toward the side. It suited his face well, boasting high cheekbones, and his lavish, bright blue eyes that twinkled visibly even from their distance. He was in a spirited conversation with the ladies, using his arms to explain a tale.
“No doubt it’s his most recent ridiculous story,” Miss Dalton huffed.
Lilith surveyed her with superiority, slyly slipping her opinion into the conversation with a silky smooth voice. “Might I say, that is more than a little contradictory to what you ranted about a few moments ago.”
Miss Dalton’s nostrils flared, her eyes flushing slightly with embarrassment. “If you knew him, you’d understand.”
A few men gathered beside the blonde, tapping him on the shoulder and discreetly muttering to him. No doubt they were trying to work on their sisters’ betrothals. Lilith was relieved to find that she didn’t have a single person to come –
“I would like to ask if you’d care to join me in a dance, Miss Farthing,” this man bowed low, but looked slightly older than her. He had spectacles that opened up his hazel eyes. His narrow nose boasted his intelligence all the more. Lilith looked over to Miss Dalton, curious as to how the boy knew her name. Miss Dalton twisted her head and gave Lilith a look of daggers. The blonde girl accepted and was carefully led toward the dance floor.
The pair strode past the blonde – Mr. St. Vincent, they called him – who looked up at their passing. “Rodney, old chap!” He cried out, rushing to shake Lilith’s partner’s hand excitedly, practically patting all dust from Rodney’s shoulder.
Rodney broke handhold with Lilith. “Just a moment, Miss Farthing. We go back a ways.”
The two made casual conversation – or, so Rodney tried. Mr. St. Vincent seemed bent on goading his powers and abilities. Just as the song ended, St. Vincent looked up at Lilith. “My, look at the time,” he said, appraising Lilith. Lilith found herself growing to dislike St. Vincent, without barely making acquaintance. Rodney caught sight of St. Vincent’s glare.
“O-oh,” Rodney said, his voice slightly shaky. “Mr. Hugh St. Vincent, may I present to you Miss Lilith Farthing, long-lost niece to Osmond Stonefeather.”
“You don’t say,” Hugh breathed, stepping forward to take Lilith extended hand. Instead, he lifted it to his lips and gave it a long kiss, before breaking off, not yet releasing his grip on her hand. “You don’t look an ounce like that ugly, pigeon-chested, nosy old Osmond.”
Lilith’s eyebrows shot up. “He took me in, thank you very much.”
Mr. St. Vincent raised his hands defensively. “So the man has a heart – I’ll do well to keep that in mind the next time he buggers me for an interview.”
Hugh’s gaze swept over Lilith again, head to toe, an almost hunger in his eyes – or so Lilith placed it. She wasn’t sure she liked it, thinking it flirtatious and bold. Yet no one seemed to mind – none of it was taboo for a person at the place. The girls who’d gathered behind Lilith looked quite angry with her, their lips twisted in disgust, looking her over as though searching for a flaw. The men who’d asked for Hugh to dance with their sister, or relative, looked quite disappointed with Hugh – or Lilith.
“He’s found himself a new distraction,” one of the girls muttered, sounded beat and deflated. She turned and shuffled away to find another partner. Her comment made Lilith feel increasingly like some foreign, shiny toy in Hugh’s eyes. Rodney took his place beside Lilith, and held out his hand. “Shall we start to the floor, then?” Lilith nodded, but not before Hugh stepped in.
“My apologies, old boy, but your song has ended.” Hugh bowed low – almost so his knees touched the floor. He stretched his long arm out and lifted his peacock-blue eyes until they met Lilith’s. “Might I have the pleasure to ask this lovely lady to accompany me in a dance?”
Lilith knew it was in bad manners to reject. She looked at Rodney, who looked just as deflated at the girl – and quite tired of Hugh. “No, Hugh,” Rodney said slowly. “I asked her for a dance – then you came and kept conversation with me. Therefore, the rules still carry in to this dance, thank you.”
Rodney didn’t await a reply, but quickly hurried Lilith off to the floor. Lilith risked a glance over her shoulder, seeing Hugh staring at them, his alarmingly blue eyes finding Lilith’s. He turned and sniffed, wiping underneath his nose. Somehow, Lilith knew the fight was not up.
“Do not do that,” Rodney commanded stiffly, taking up his proper frame. Lilith blinked at him, baffled by his tone. She didn’t like that, either.
“Do what?”
“Look at Hugh – I know he is handsome, but I would’ve thought you to have a little more dignity than that.”
Their feet started to twist and wind through the dance floor in a lively polka. With Rodney, Lilith felt more like she was leading a funeral march. He kept dreary conversation about politics, the weather, and how lovely the colour of her dress was – it brought out her eyes that reminded him of the London fog.
“I’ve always wanted my eyes compared to the London fog,” Lilith said dryly, averting her eyes from Rodney’s glance. As the song ended, the two broke immediately from their awkward composure.
“Thank you,” Rodney said, not even bowing or giving another word. Lilith watched as he hurried away, not even offering to escort her back to her seat. She spun around, pulling up short.
“Sorry, sir,” Lilith said, attempting to step around the wall of black-and-white suit that had snuck up behind her. Instead, she looked up to find Hugh St. Vincent looking down upon her, an unfaltering smile lightening his features. Lilith found it becoming increasingly unnerving, as each time she moved, Hugh stepped in front of her, the smile still plastered on his face, never dropping or moving an inch.
“I’ve asked you to dance,” he said, “now do me the pleasure, and be polite.”
Lilith looked up at him in outrage, cocking her head to the side. “Beg pardon?”
Hugh sighed and tilted his head from side-to-side, as though clearing it. He replaced his vexation with the charm that seemed to catch the hearts of all the other girls. He bowed low again, clearing his throat and loudly declaring, “Miss Lilith Farthing, would you do me – poor old me – the pleasure of dancing this next song with me?”
He spoke loud enough so that people around were looking at the pair, slightly appalled. Lilith could barely hide the aggravation on her face, so she turned it into a forced, pained smile. “Why yes, thank you for asking!”
Finished with this confrontation, people shuffled into place as the next song started. Lilith was ill-prepared – as she already had been that evening – for the song’s start. Hugh didn’t wait a moment for Lilith to prepare herself. He yanked her close into a schottische, wildly whipping her around each turn. Lilith could hardly hold on, gracelessly crashing around each turn that she stumbled. Hugh didn’t seem to mind – in fact, he seemed more preoccupied with display his own looks than to try to assist Lilith.
As they fell into easier pace, Lilith getting the hand of Hugh’s wide steps that she was nearly leaping to catch, Hugh began conversation. Lilith saw Evangeline being whisked around gently by a burly, copper-haired man. Evangeline gave her a smile, implying that Lilith should do the same.
She tried; only a few minutes in to the dance, and Lilith began to get irritated and annoyed – more so than before. She continually shot glances to Evangeline, who – when she caught them – would smirk and shrug, and turn away from Lilith’s desperation. This Hugh St. Vincent fellow seemed never to stop talking – his mouth never ceased moving, words coming out in a garbled, fast-paced clip, no longer sounding eloquent and posh. She wondered if he practiced breathing, as she swore he never did stop to take a breath. “… yes, quite a fascinating line of work, isn’t it? A most unlikely situation to find a lady such as you in, but I am happy to say that I am not reluctant to carry out such duties, unlike many of the other cowardly men who dance about here. If it means protecting such a … breathtakingly beautiful woman such as yourself, I will risk life and limb for you.”
Lilith turned her head to roll her eyes. She could feel the weight of Hugh’s eyes on her. That same hunger-filled looked caught at her, his lips parting slightly. He stopped their movement for a second. Lilith pushed Hugh forward. Whatever his intentions, he would not get them – the assumptions that Lilith could make did not please her in the least.
The blonde-haired girl cleared her throat, trying to keep him busy until the end of the song. “So, how did you get into such a line of work ...?”
Hugh beamed at her question, immediately launching into his tale. “My parents hadn’t believed me when I told them I could actually see spirits – the ones of my grandparents, and great-grandparents. They thought I was feeding them lies ... But when I one day put an end to the ghost haunting our house, they began to believe. My popularity, it grew over the years, until people were asking for me all over – I’ve even now published a book. I’d be quite pleased to see you there ...”
Lilith began to drown him out, noticing the little French girl scurry out of the room. She pushed open a tiny, narrow door and shut it stealthily behind her, the shadows beyond disappearing as the door shut. Hugh pulled Lilith around roughly into another turn, treating her more like a weapon he might use to slaughter one of his vampires with – not like all the other men treated their ladies.
Relieved once the dance came to an end, Lilith was escorted by Hugh St. Vincent until they came to Lilith’s chaperone. Miss Dalton recoiled at the sight of Hugh St. Vincent, disgust – intensely so – flitting across her face before she replaced it with pleasure. “Oh, why, gracious – thank you Mr. St. Vincent.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” Hugh said, looking at Lilith one more time before he strutted off to prey on his next victim.
Lilith practically spat in disgust. “I will remember to take your advice next time.”
Miss Dalton smirked smugly, clearing happy to have displayed some right against Lilith. Lilith sat beside Miss Dalton, her gray eyes scanning over the flurry of activity for any sight of Evangeline – Lilith produced none. She spotted the French girl’s mother – Mrs. Sommers – who was looking around for her daughter, before she was asked to dance. Mrs. Sommers didn’t oblige, but simply forgot her daughter completely and was pulled to the dance floor. Lilith stretched out her weary feet, sore from being yanked around so carelessly by Hugh. She hoped never to encounter such a man as him again – or that she’d never encounter him again.
Lilith was just about to start towards the refreshments room again when she noticed Evangeline stumble into the room. The girl was pale as a ghost, her hands shaking. “Evangeline what’s –?” Lilith started, Evangeline gripping herself shoulders tightly through her shuddering grip. The girl’s eyes were wide as could be, glinting black in the light – or so Lilith thought.
“I-I’ve ...” she trailed off, sucking in a breath, struggling to do so. Her eyes strayed to the floor, as though she could weight herself down by doing so. Evangeline was no longer the tall, statuesque girl Lilith had come to know – not longer brave, flighty, and bold. Evangeline had turned into something completely different, something so utterly alarmed that it scared Lilith to know what had terrified her so. Evangeline finally swallowed, glaring at Lilith, hard in the eye.
“I just found her – dead."
Gender:
Points: 5749
Reviews: 106