King of Darkness

Insult and Injury

Sunlight was dancing across my skin, filling my head with a nice drowsy feeling. I could have fallen asleep any second had it not been for the cries of my nephew beside me. I sighed and opened my eyes back to reality.

Lucas was only five years old, but by far the loudest child I had ever encountered. When he wasn't screaming his lungs out he was making sure that his little sister would start crying by pulling her hair or pinching her arms. Sometimes I wondered if the boy was born with little horns coming out of his skull.

The nanny was busy trying to shush him, aware of how other people found him to be incredibly disruptive, but I already knew it wouldn't do anything. When Lucas started crying it was best to leave him to it and evacuate to quieter grounds.

I stood up from the white blanket on the ground and made my way towards the small tent. Right behind it was Learwood Castle, my home, looking down over us. I always thought of it as a third grandmother, constantly watching if her children and grandchildren were keeping up the family traditions. I can't imagine her being disappointed on a day like this.

It was the last official day of summer, which must be celebrated with a large garden party. Everywhere I looked were lords and ladies, as well as the rich and the powerful, mingling around in bright white clothes. It almost looked like a competition between Britain's greatest houses: Who could get their washings to look the whitest?

My mother was lounging on a sofa, with her sister and mother in two wooden chairs beside her. I sat down on the third vacant seat, greeting them as I did.

"Isn't it splendid?" My aunt Jane asked me, eagerly looking around her. She had married beneath her status, to a man named Rodger Cliff, an American. It wasn't often that she made the great journey across the pond, but when she did her eyes often betrayed her yearning to have this life back.

"You outdid yourself, Harriet." My grandmother added onto it, barely looking at me. I had always thought she didn't care much for her grandchildren, but that changed when my eldest sister had come out. When she became a debutant, and therefore eligible to be married, she suddenly took a great interest in making sure she married accordingly.

I would come out in the next season, something that already brought butterflies to my stomach just by thinking about it. It had taken too long for my liking all because of Claire, my second oldest sister. It took her ages to finish her education and no one thought it to be appropriate for me to come out before my older sister. My mother argued that it would hurt Claire’s chances of finding a good marriage, people might think she is simple. Personally, I did not see this as anything but the truth, but my mother’s word was law. 

"I wish I could enjoy it," my mother said, slowly sipping from her teacup. "Alas, all the work has tired me out completely."

"Perhaps you'll find your enjoyment in a different form." Jane added, her eyes fixed on a conversation not far from us. Claire was talking to Sir Peter Storks and by the looks of it were getting along rather well. I recognized the look in her eyes, it was the same look my sister had when she was courting her husband.

Once again, I could feel the pressure increasing and my hate for Claire flaring up. If it wasn't for her I would have been married already. I looked back to my mother, who was clearly proud of Claire. Of course she was, I thought bitterly to myself, she has always been slow, it must be a great victory for her to enter courtship so quickly.

I took my leave once they started discussing Claire's new prospects. He was a sir, not a duke nor a lord. In my oldest sister's case that had been a blessing, he didn't come with a lot of land so they could run our existing grounds together. That would mean Claire would have to get used to living in a much smaller house. If it didn't dampen my prospects of finding a good match, I would have laughed about it.

Lucas was quiet again, but I didn't feel like waiting for him to throw another fit. Nor did I feel like talking to his mother. In fact, I rather felt like curling up in my bed and sleeping the day away. Not that anyone would let me, but it was a nice thought to keep myself occupied with.

"My lady," someone greeted me. He was young still, with kind brown eyes and dark hair. "We met last year, at Lakewell's ball."

It took me some time to remember him. He had been brave enough to ask me to dance with my father standing right next to me, which meant that I couldn't possibly refuse him. He had looked even younger then, which hadn't really made me too keen to dance with him. My father always preached that men should explore the world before marriage, that only cowards married young.

"Of course, I hope you have been enjoying the party." I answered politely. In all truth, I had forgotten his name, but not his title. He was the sixth born son of an earl, hardly a good match.

"Certainly!" He smiled at me. "You must relay my compliment to your mother." We slowly walked over to one of the footmen carrying a tray of refreshments. I was almost hoping he'd speak to me, to save me from this conversation by saying that there was some sort of emergency. But alas, when we reached him he merely nodded and offered us two glasses.

"I hope to see you in London again soon," he tried to start up the conversation again. "I am helping my father run the estate, I am spending nearly all my time there nowadays."

"Well, I am certainly going in April," I answered. "It will be my first social season."

I hoped he understood my hint that I wasn't getting married until I had officially come out, but he seemed to take it the exact wrong way.

"So old fashioned, if you ask me." He answered and took a sip from his drink. "Did you know Lady Sarah Ann married before coming out? I believe she even picked the same date as the ceremony for her wedding."

"Well master Richard," I answered, hoping that I got his name right at least. "I suppose you'll find us all a bit more 'old fashioned' up here."

I curtly turned around and walked away from him. I wasn't truly insulted by what he had said, though our family was rather known as being old fashioned so he should have known, but it was an easy escape from the conversation and hopefully from him too. I couldn't bear to even think about what Claire would say if I married not even a sir but a long-forgotten son of an unimportant earl.

"He seemed nice," I heard her oh-so-familiar sneer. "Right up your alley, I would say."

By the looks of it, Sir Peter had left her to talk to some of his friends. Her blond hair, a signature colour for our entire family, was done to perfection with soft curls laying on her forehead and framing around her round face.

"Really? I felt he looked eerily similar to you." I fired back at her. Claire wasn't the brightest, so she couldn't even hide the fact that I had successfully gotten under her skin. Her good looks were the one thing she had going for her and she knew it.

I thought that would be it, but by the looks of it I had pushed it too far. One moment I was fine, the next I suddenly felt something ice-cold dripping over me. Before I could even look to see what had happened the ice turned into flames. It felt like stepping into a bath that was far too hot, at first I felt nothing, then everything.