Nicholas' Bargain Ch. 06

Amelia laughed her praise away.

"Well, heavens, will one of you fill me in? I'm quite interested," Lara smiled, motioning for Abigail to proceed.

"You see, my father had put some money in a trust for me but the solicitor hadn't been able to locate me," she flashed another look at Amelia who inclined her head for her to go on. "Truth be told, it's more money than I'd ever imagined. Than we'd ever imagined," she amended on a sigh, her eyes misting over. "Everything will be better now. For me and uncle. Everything. I'm so grateful to Miss Amelia for persisting, for seeing that we were made aware of the money."

"Your father wished for it -- it was only right that the money went to its rightful beneficiary," Amelia said kindly.

"Who was your father?" Lara asked when she was able to get a word in, both bemused and curious.

"Oh," the girl smiled in embarrassment, suddenly looking far younger than Lara had initially thought. "Morely. Cole Morely. Perhaps you know my uncle, too? Ethan Morely?" she said hopefully.

Lara shook her head, dumbfounded, her eyes jumping to Amelia, taking in her placid, almost bored countenance.

"Oh, well...I suppose you'd not," Abigail continued, "uncle always told me papa was clever, that he'd worked hard to establish himself, and that that meant he'd lived a different sort of life to uncle when I was born. What was he like? Did you know him well? Uncle tells me plenty of stories, as I say, but only of when they were young..." her eyes took on an eager sheen as she looked between Amelia and Lara.

"How old were you when your father died, Abigail?" Amelia frowned contemplatively then. "I'm afraid I've forgotten."

"I'd just passed five years," the girl said with the vague sadness of one who mourned a distantly remembered figure rather than a well-remembered, well loved one.

"Well now, Abigail, you look ready to drop. Been tiring yourself running about London all morning I suspect."

"There's just so much to see, Miss! Thank you again for providing for our journey down to London -- and the rest," she said shyly.

"Please, it was the least I could do. Well, your meeting with the solicitor is set for five o'clock, I believe. We'll leave you to prepare yourself. I shall call in on here soon. If you need anything, you've only to have a message sent to my London address. You have it?"

The girl nodded, gratitude plain in every inch of her beaming smile.

Lara said her own farewell a little numbly and followed Amelia from the hotel's dining hall some moments later towards their waiting carriage outside.

"What was that about?" she said quietly as their driver readied the horses for departure.

"That?" Amelia arched a musing brow from the opposite bench. "Oh, well, that -- or more specifically Amelia Morley -- is the reason why Cole came to be in your fiancés...employ, shall we say. You see, Abigail Morely was the result of a liaison Cole had in his youth. His brother -- the man Abigail mentioned -- Ethan Morely, they're twins, Cole and he. They were brought up in a poor house with neither family nor wealth. You'd not think it to look at Cole, would you? That the serious, upstanding Mr Morely was born in the gutters, destitute? Well, I'll not bore you with the minutiae, since we know how it ended, which is the most interesting part," Amelia quipped in breezy dismissal as the carriage trundled out of Mayfair. "Ethan Morely became gravely sick, and Cole sought to assuage his guilt, believing is brother's demise was his fault. And then your fiancé offered him what he so desperately craved. In exchange for Ethan's mortality, Cole offered Abigail. That young lady there? More a girl, really. She was five years when Lord Nicholas Armel came a-knocking again. Five years old, Lara."

By the end of her speech, Amelia was no longer cool or indifferent. Her cheeks were flushed, her fists tight, her voice strained.

"She said her father died, Cole-"

"It's the way it must be, so Cold informed me. When he...when he gave himself over to Lord Armel in exchange for Abigail, to save her life, his life was no longer his own. He became Lord Armel's eternal servant. You know how it works, I am sure," Amelia turned away from Lara, her lips twisting in bitterness. "To Ethan and Abigail Morely, he was dead. He is dead. They will never now, can never know. Part of the bargain's small print, I suppose you can say," and then, in blasé tones, Amelia said, "So, to the Burlington Arcade we go?"

Lara stared at her, perturbed. "No, not the Burlington Arcade. I'd rather return to the townhouse."

"As you wish," Amelia shrugged.

Lara watched her face for a moment before uttering, "You brought her here as an example-"

"Accept the fact that he's a monster, Lara? And that you'll by going to him tomorrow, by pledging yourself to him in a place of worship, you'll be little better? A man who takes the lives of innocent children! He'd have taken Abigail with no compunction had Cole not offered himself but how many of the fools who bargain with the lives of their children do you believe would be so selfless when it comes time to pay the piper? How can you defend that? How many young children, innocent boys and girls, do you think he's slain-"

"Enough," and though pleased her tone was firm and cool, Lara's stomach clenched in ominous protest.

As the carriage finally slowed and pulled up outside the townhouse, Lara said, her body taut, "What am I to expect when I step through those doors? A rescue? To be spirited away from London, from tomorrow's affair, for my own good?"

Amelia shook her head sadly. "I've spoken my peace, it's all I have. I can't control your desires, I can't make decisions for you, much as I'd like. Don't hate me, Lara. I won't be there tomorrow. I came here today for you. Tonight I return to the country -- to our father, who each day declines further and further into the blackness of insanity. He knows, of course. The newspapers are sent to up to the estate as usual, even if everything else in the house is disordered. I may have lost the affection I once held for him, but I'm all he has now."

As the coachman helped them to dismount, Lara eyed Amelia's back numbly, hardly daring to believe that this would be the extent of her attempts to stop her from going to Nicholas tomorrow.

But once they were indoors, Amelia climbed the grand central staircase, her steps slow, and one couldn't help recall the memories of past balls and soirees held in this very townhouse in which her father was king, well known for holding the more extravagant affairs with his beautiful wife the ever the duteous host, his darling daughter ever the effervescent belle gliding down that very staircase for all to admire and envy. A terrible feeling of guilt ate at Lara. Amelia was no longer the carefree -- though too often, reckless -- young woman she had been before Him. Before Nicholas. And then there was her father.

Making her way towards the study -- her father's once permanently occupied domain -- Lara sought out a sheaf of paper and scribbled a quick note, before seeking out a footman.

"Alec -- please, I'd like a message conveyed. It's quite urgent."

On a smart nod, the footman hurried to do her bidding

*

Lara cast another quick glance towards the mantle clock. If Amelia could only see her now, getting worked up at Nicholas' bad time keeping as if he were the same as any other tardy beau. Though they had only been together mere hours ago, it somehow felt like it had before -- those years in which he had stayed away, in which she had thought she would never again see him.

But she shook herself of the unsettling feeling, knowing it was a result of Amelia's words of earlier. She considered the planned meeting with Cole Morely's daughter again. Had she simply refused to acknowledge the truth of Amelia's words all along or had she truly never given consideration to the fact that, ultimately, Nicholas' bargain's consisted of possessing and ultimately taking the lives of others?

But when he had come for Amelia, he had waited until she was a woman fully grown - Lara had assumed that this was simply how it always was but it was a naïve assumption. She knew very little about Nicholas' business, if it could be called that. He was a product of evil but she didn't believe he was, in fact, evil. Amelia was wrong -- Lara was not drawn to him for the thrill of his supposed monstrosity. To her, he was anything but.

This morning despite her previous whispered assurances to him that, seeing as how they now knew each other in the carnal sense, his sense of stiff proprietary was wholly unnecessary, he had been the picture of a gallant, attentive fiancé: courteous toward her aunt, accommodating toward her -- and most perturbing off all, open towards the many members of the ton who'd nosily approached with words of congratulations

I could know him for a thousand years but he'd still baffle me, she mused on an impatient frown, rising from the setee and pacing about the receiving room anxiously, but a light scratching at the door announced an enquiring servant who slipped in at Lara's call.

"There's a gentleman here to see you." Her expression was reproving, cheeks flushed a light pink, lips pinched.

Lara shook her head, guessing that Lucinda didn't approve of Nicholas' frequency in visiting on the day before their wedding, "Well, then, please send him in."

The maid hesitated for a moment, looking ready to reply, but nodded once before exiting, and Lara faced the door, bracing herself.

"You," she uttered in dumb surprise as a further presence filled the room a few moments later.

"Women rarely look so aghast at our reunions -- you'll bruise my vanity. Here, aren't you pleased to see me at all?"

"But what are you doing here?"

Her guest flashed her a winning grin before striding across the room. Pressing a hearty kiss to both cheeks, he held Lara away from him, his eyes running over her person consideringly.

"I still don't see it -- certainly pretty, I'll grant him that, but," critical eyes scanned her face and bosom once more, "well...forgive my boldness, hardly worth all the trouble. Are you going to slap me, then?"

"Once you release me," Lara agreed indignantly.

"Then I'll not release you," came the cheeky retort.

Lara laughed despite herself. "Just get off, will you, and I'll keep my hands away from your despicable face."

"Touché."

Lara eyed at the demon -- Mika -- warily as he stepped away from her and fell onto the brocade settee at the centre of the room on a lusty sigh.

"Did Nicholas send you in his stead?" she turned, observing him in bafflement.

Tilting his head, a considering expression passing over his handsome face, Mika said archly, "I answer to no one save my master. No, Nicholas did not 'send for me' -- I was at his residence and happened to see your missive to him and decided to drop by. For old time's sake -- and also to relay the news that I'll doubt he'll be joining us. He's off on...business, shall we say?"

Lara shivered at his choice of words, and took a seat opposite him, disheartened at the revelation.

"What's with the urgency, chicken? Having second thoughts?"

"Of course not. So he told you about tomorrow."

"He didn't need to -- news of his leave of sanity has spread amongst my kind. We're all as perturbed as we are amused by it."

Ignoring his mockery, Lara said thoughtfully, as she considered her guest's words, "And your...maker: will he disapprove? Of Nicholas and I? Marrying...?"

Mika arched a blond brow, "Well why the devil should he care? If you'll pardon the pun. Nicholas wouldn't be the first of my kind to do such a thing. Myself, I've tied the knot six or so times. Indeed, he wouldn't be the first of my kind to marry a mortal but he would be the first that I know of to do it with sincerity," he said the word distastefully. "You know, given how he believes himself in love with you and all."

Lara warmed at his words but said primly, "Marriage is a holy contract," she rose and made a shooing motion with her hand, deciding she'd journey to Nicholas' townhouse and await his return. "Surely there would be, well, ramifications for your kind to enter it dishonestly? Or at all?"

"Why, do your own kind not enter dishonest marriages every day?" Mika mocked, stretching his legs and placing them on top of the polished table before him, bluntly refusing her invitation to leave. "Fidelity, love: your lot like to preach a lot but appear to have difficulty abiding by your tenants."

Lara shrugged. He was right of course; still his admission calmed her a little. She'd endured a few nightmares involving Nicholas, a church, and lightening striking him down as soon as he entered over the past weeks but had felt too foolish mentioning it to him.

Lucinda soon entered, shooting Mika a disapproving look before settling a tea tray beside his booted feet.

"That's quite alright, Lucinda -- my guest was just leaving."

"But-" the pretty maid looked from Lara to Mika uncertainly, her cheeks flushing as Mika winked at her, saying,

"Thank you, my dear," and then to Lara: "I'm afraid I over-stepped myself and ordered the tea tray. You don't mind, do you?" he asked Lara, helping himself to a healthy slab of vanilla cake before she could indicate her dissent.

"That will be all, Lucinda," Lara sighed and said, as soon as the maid disappeared, "You leave her alone, do you hear? She's lovely and I'll not have her hurt or mixed up with -- with-"

"My kind? Ah, but our assumptions wound me," Mika said around a mouthful of cake, "My motives when it comes to women are entirely-"

"I don't want to know," Lara shook her head as wiped an arm over his mouth. "I don't know how you've ever convinced a woman to marry you; you're positively uncouth."

"I can be very convincing given the right impetus -- money," Mika added at Lara's mildly enquiring look. "Money holds power in your world. You'd best believe I'd not take up residence in grubby taverns and public houses if I had the income to afford a grand townhouse like your fiancé. Unfortunately, we enter this world as penniless as a new born babe," Mika said, correctly interpreting Lara's surprised look.

"Nicholas always was the sensible sort - a bit of a miser with his money, in fact - but then I suppose you bring out the extravagance in him, if his new residence is anything to go by," Mika whistled impressively. "But sadly, I enjoy my little indulgences far too much to be a spendthrift and it has left me close to destitute this century. There's a Miss Wyndam I've currently got my eye on, however, who may soon change that. Here, you may know her: plain little thing, all teeth and eyes but with a handsome dowry that'll prove compensation enough for having an ugly thing tethered to me for-"

"Absolutely not. Isabelle Wyndam has always been kind to me at times when many others ignored me. Set your sights elsewhere," Lara ordered, feeling sick at the thought. At least she knew what Nicholas was -- poor Isabelle! But Mika merely laughed away her indignance.

"I'll not - but her good characters traits are dully noted. I'll not flaunt my paramours before her nor treat her badly otherwise. Don't work yourself into a lather over it," Mika dismissed uncaringly.

Lara asked then, as casually as she could manage, "So Nicholas has been married before also?"

"A few times -- no need to look like that, the last one was years ago. He married a baroness during the second crusade. I think. Or possibly the fourth -- the middle ages dragged by, you know? Anyway, she was richer than the king himself and Nicholas was wise with his investment over the years. Some fools have all the luck -- I could have had her, too. She had a thing for the dark brooding type rather than...well, me," he grinned in all his blond light heartedness.

"Crusades?" Lara uttered. "Years was a tad of an understatement." Goodness.

"It'll be different this time, pet," Mika said kindly, reaching over to pat her hand in patronising comfort, leaving a greasy film of crumbs on her. "Like I said, he's besotted with you. For now."

Ignoring the barb, Lara said shortly, glancing pointedly at the door, "Why are you back, Mika? Back in my world? To...collect on your past bargains?"

"Back?" Mika said in surprise. "Why, I haven't left. Unlike Nicholas, I prefer to stay here for as long as permitted."

"Well, now that you're here...it makes little sense going to Nicholas. I may as well make use of you."

"Happy to help," Mika cut himself another slice of cake and sat back to enjoy it, watching her unblinkingly as he chewed.

On a bracing breath, Lara nodded, "I'm sure you won't be surprised to know that my close kin aren't exactly thrilled with my upcoming nuptials -- amongst their many objections as to Nicholas is his...business activities. Specifically the closing of the bargain, I suppose you could class it. Taking the life of the first born child-"

Mika nodded, bored.

"Well, I merely wondered...is it practice to wait until the child is a certain age before you complete the bargain?"

"We take the offspring, yes. Or if their childless, the first born niece of nephew and so forth. The status quo is their life, their soul, but oftentimes the human is so guilt ridden that we take them instead if they sacrifice themselves," Mika explained on a shrug.

Lara waved a hand impatiently, "What about the age of the child?"

"Spit out what you really want to know."

"Do you slay children?"

"Slay?" Mika scoffed, arching an annoyed brow, seemingly affronted by her choice of words. "Nay, I do not slay children. Neither does Nicholas, if you were wondering. By your God, it was, wasn't it?" he laughed in outraged humour. "You don't think much if your affianced, do you? A murderer of babes, bah! I shall tell him so with gusto."

"If I truly believed it, he wouldn't be the man-" Lara paused, "uh --I thought he was."

"Well, I didn't say all of my kind were so inclined," Mika pointed out mildly. "After all, we haven't garnered our reputation in your world by playing nice all the time. I gather by your question that you've never spoken of the minutia with Nicholas but I suppose there's plenty of time for that. I mean, once he gets tired of fucking you -- forgive my boldness -- you'll need something to fill your time with it," he shivered in distaste.

Lara reddened and broke off a piece of cake in the guise of occupying herself, embarrassed and annoyed at his prophesied version of their life together.

"What is the minutia?"

"It would take longer than this slice of cake to explain," Mika shrugged.

"Then be brief."

"How domineering," Mika smiled appreciatively. "I've always enjoyed the role of tutor, especially when it comes to comely brunettes. Well, then, my dear inquisitive vixen, in answer to your prior question, what we do with our human acquisition is subjective to the particular demon -- either way we own the soul of the human, be it the one who originally made the bargain and scarified him or herself in their off-spring's stead or the offspring itself, absolutely, eternally, both in your world and ours, at the bargain's completion. Their death on your world isn't necessary for that. Nicholas prefers to keep the innocent or truly repentant ones in your world until their time of natural expiry, to act as agents of his and our master in your world. I am of a similar philosophy since it becomes quite cumbersome performing the necessary rights to take them to our world involuntarily."

"Involuntarily - you mean by killing them," Lara clarified bluntly.