Poetry & Blood Ch. 15

Poetry & Blood Chapter 15: The Body

By Trixie Adara

Edited By ALewdEditor

Miss Lancaster

“Thank you, we’ll let you know next week.”

Miss Lancaster sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose between her eyes as the nervous middle-aged woman slipped out of her office. That was the fourteenth interview today. None of them were good enough. None of them had the strength to replace Angelica.

They thought they had solved the Angelica problem with Carol, but she nearly had a psychotic episode during her first Muse Session. Then they tried Stephanie, but she quickly started asking too many questions. They were looking for their third replacement to Angelica, which they needed before they could fill the other vacancies in the staff.

And it all fell on Miss Lancaster.

She alone had to manage Camille’s mental state. She had to keep Emma a secret. She had to manage the business and legal side of Camille’s work. She was acting as agent, babysitter, employer, and confidant. On top of that, Camille was unravelling. She had become increasingly paranoid that other people knew about Emma. She said she had writer’s block. The editors said that Camille’s work rambled or sometimes lacked coherence. She spent long hours in her room, rereading old poems she had written to Laura Karnstein.

It had been a miserable fucking month.

Miss Lancaster went to the bar cart and fixed herself a drink. It was getting late, and she needed the sleep. Some of the staff had been commenting on how tired she’s been looking recently. She sighed and turned to the mirror. She still thought she was beautiful. Pretty. Mostly pretty. Tall in heels, pale honey-colored Asian skin, long black and straight hair, soft brown eyes. It wasn’t bad. But she couldn’t escape the wrinkles setting into her skin, strangling her beauty. She couldn’t ignore her thinning hair. She was starting to look like the unsexy half of middle-aged.

She tried everything she could think of: concealer, face masks, a facial, a spa trip, long nights sleep. Nothing made her feel rested. Nothing smoothed out her crow’s feet or hid the bags under her eyes. If you couldn’t look relaxed, the least you could do was feel relaxed.

Miss Lancaster sat in her chair, drink in her hand, eyes closed. She knew she should work through some of the recent contracts sent over by the publishers. She should probably revisit the kitchen’s budget again. There were ten dozen things she should be doing, and all she wanted in the world was to take a bubble bath and go to sleep, but the longer she sat in her chair, dozing off, avoiding her work, the less time she would have for relaxation. More than likely she’d have the bath anyways, and get less sleep.

A knock came at the door.

Miss Lancaster sighed. “Who is it?”

“It’s me. Laura.”

“Come back later, I can’t talk right now.”

“Who do I talk to about the power being out in my room?”

“What?” Miss Lancaster felt her blood pressure spike as she went to open the door. The short, brown haired woman was standing in the hallway with a candle in her hand. “What are you talking about?”

“My room, and a bunch of rooms around me, just lost power.”

“The whole manor?”

“Half? A third?” Laura shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Miss Lancaster sighed. She’d been doing a lot of sighing lately. This was traditionally Angelica’s problem. She knew the plumbers or electricians or carpenters that Camille liked. That Camille approved of. She was remarkably picky for someone who would never see or interact with the help.

“I know it’s getting late,” said Laura, “but I didn’t know who else to go to. Should I get Claire?”

“Claire couldn’t find the breaker if the lights were on and she had a team of electricians guiding her.” Miss Lancaster looked back at her desk, at the drink sitting there, begging for her attention, at the evening she was not getting back anytime soon.

When she turned back around, Laura was leaning to the right, looking past Miss Lancaster at her desk. “Bad time, huh?” she asked.

“Is there a good time for this to happen?”

“Listen, it’s almost night. There’s light and power somewhere in the house if people are desperate. It can probably wait for morning.” Laura smiled.

Miss Lancaster appreciated it. She never had the problem with Laura that the rest of the staff did. She was, after all, the woman that hired the young editor. Laura was plucky. She was funny. She was hard working, but she didn’t take things too seriously, much like Angelica. Miss Lancaster glanced over the slender brunette, almost finding her attractive. She had short and curly hair, blue eyes, and a mischievous grin. Miss Lancaster typically didn’t care for women, but the sapphic pull of the manor and the obvious erotic nature of the Muse Sessions, the demands of working for Camille, made Miss Lancaster appreciate the female form when it was well presented. She’d seen Laura naked, fucked Camille beside her. She was definitely well presented.

“I appreciate the concern,” she said, “but if Miss K discovers half her manor had no power, I would be in a deal of trouble.”

“You sure? You should get some sleep. It looks like you could use it.”

The smile wilted from Miss Lancaster’s face. “I could use it,” she muttered. “But it will have to wait.” She turned back around and looked at her desk. “The real question is where the number for the electrician is.”

“Not on your phone?”

Miss Lancaster scanned the piles quickly choking the life out of her office. “Angelica left a phonebook of numbers, a physical one, but I haven’t had time to transfer it to my phone. It’s in here somewhere.”

“Want help looking?”

Miss Lancaster turned back around. “You sure?”

“Sure.” Laura shrugged. “I can’t do much else without the power.” Laura pointed to the drink on Miss Lancaster’s desk, “Though I’d sure like a drink for my efforts.”

“Deal.” Miss Lancaster stepped out of the way and moved to the drink cart. Laura stepped into her office and closed the door behind her.

“Don’t want someone to know what we’re doing here,” said Laura when Miss Lancaster gave her a questioning look.

“If half the power is out, I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“But what about Camille? What if she walks by?”

“Miss K doesn’t roam the manor, and especially not by my office.”

“Just to be safe?”

Miss Lancaster ignored the suggestion and poured the drink. She took the bottle and went back to her desk, topping her own drink off.

“Long day?” asked Laura.

“Aren’t they all?”

“You know,” said Laura as she started to rummage through a box, “Is it okay for me to look through this?”

“Look. Don’t read.” Miss Lancaster handed Laura her drink. “It’s an old-school address book. That’s what we’re looking for.”

“Got it.” Laura took the drink and tried a sip. “Strong,” she muttered as she pursed her lips.

“You were saying?”

“Right, well, I was thinking,” said Laura as she put down her drink and went back through the box in front of her, “that I don’t know what it is you do exactly.”

“I’m Miss K’s lawyer.” Miss Lancaster took a sip of her drink. “And sometimes her agent. Sometimes her lover, as you’ve seen.” Miss Lancaster sorted through a stack of papers that she had taken out of Angelica’s room. The woman wasn’t foolish enough to keep a diary, but these were the pages that hinted at anything supernatural going on in the household. She wanted to make sure Laura didn’t look through these in case they mentioned Emma.

“And lately,” she added, “I manage her household.”

Laura muttered something about a maid.

“What was that?”

“I said this room could use a maid.”

“Anymore friends you think we should hire?” I’ve gone through half the maid services in town already.

“You’ve taken all my friends,” said Laura. “I was never a popular girl.” Laura sighed as she worked. “Don’t know why.”

“You have a rare blend of curiosity and confidence. It makes people think you’re snooping around for gossip.”

“Is that why Angelica didn’t like me?” asked Laura.

“Angelica didn’t like anyone except Miss K.”

“This box has nothing, mind if I move it?”

Miss Lancaster turned from her stack and saw Laura holding the box she was previously searching. Miss Lancaster nodded, pointing to the far corner. Laura put her box there, and started sorting through another. Miss Lancaster went back to her pile.

“What happened between them?” asked Laura.

“Angelica and Miss K?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t.”

“Yes,” said Miss Lancaster. She didn’t have to say much. Angelica’s aggressive protection of Camille was a tell. Everyone knows you’re hiding a secret when you act like a paranoid crone. It was only a matter of time before Angelica’s fanatical worship of their employer destroyed herself.

“I figured,” said Laura. “But you can’t blame a girl for trying to get the juicy gossip. I bet you know everything that goes on here.”

“Likely,” said Miss Lancaster. “Seeing as I hired you all.”

“That’s right. You did.”

Miss Lancaster put down the stack of Angelica’s notes and love letters and went to another box. These were filled with Angelica’s procedural notes for the day to day operations. Behind her, she heard Laura move her box and start on another pile. It may have been risky to let the girl sort through contracts and potential notes on the management of the manor, but she wouldn’t find anything damning. Nothing about Emma. Camille let no one utter the name under pain of death. The command was seared into their minds monthly to make sure it never faded.

“You know what,” said Laura as she sorted, “there was one thing you never told me about the Muse Sessions when you hired me.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I remember it clearly. You kept using vague language, talking about the sexual things that would go on around me.”

“The truth would terrify most people, as you saw with Carol.”

“Who?”

“Oh, right. You don’t go to them anymore. Carol was an attempted replacement for Angelica. She went to her first Muse Session and practically attacked Miss K. She called our employer some things I don’t care to repeat and was promptly asked to leave.”

“Yikes.”

“It’s not an agreeable arrangement for most people.”

“If you had told her ahead of time, before she was hired, you could have avoided the scene.”

“But I could not have maintained Miss K’s privacy. Trust me, the hiring process here is highly ritualized for a reason.”

“Fair enough.”

The fell into silence, but Miss Lancaster’s mind kept turning. This was just another obstacle to another obstacle to another obstacle to getting to bed. She had to get the electrician to work without disturbing Camille. Then there was paperwork. There were more applications to inspect. Then bed. Hopefully.

“You said there was something I didn’t tell you.” Miss Lancaster turned to another box as she asked the question, hoping conversation would distract her from self-pity. “What was it?”

“Oh, right,” said Laura. “It’s just that ... well, now the cadence is all off. It feels silly.”

“There’s not much else to do while we search but talk.”

“Well, it’s just that ... you didn’t tell me I’d enjoy it.”

“The Muse Sessions?”

“Yes.”

Miss Lancaster shrugged. “I couldn’t have guaranteed that.”

“Right, but you made it sound like work.”

“For us, it is work.”

“Maybe at first, but ... I don’t know ... don’t you like it? You seem to like it.”

Miss Lancaster turned to give Laura a gentle smile. As she turned, she saw Laura was no longer searching through boxes, but looking at Miss Lancaster. Her eyes had lost some of the casual goofiness that was her signature look. There was something determined in her gaze, and for a moment, it reminded Miss Lancaster greatly of Camille.

“I admit that it grows on you, or rather, Miss K grows on you.”

“That’s it?” asked Laura. Some of her lightheartedness returned to her face and tone. “It’s all about Camille for you?”

“She is the focus of my attention.”

“None of the other woman fucking and moaning around you turns you on?”

“No,” said Miss Lancaster. She turned and went back to her box. She was like Laura when she started. She was curious and overwhelmed but mostly floored by how much Camille was willing to pay her. Once the Muse Sessions started, Miss Lancaster thought it was a PR and legal nightmare. There was no way Camille could keep them a secret, and more importantly, there was no way someone would willingly engage in that behaviour for her.

That was years ago, and since then, both Camille and Miss Lancaster had become quite skilled at getting participants for the sessions. They had used many methods to keep someone engaged or silent. For people like Laura, they started with male attendants. There was always the Non-Disclosure Agreement. Sometimes there was blackmail. Sometimes they ended up like Nikki. Angelica was the only one who was sent away with her life and no threat looming over her, but then again, Angelica would die before she’d betray Camille.

“That first night,” said Laura after a long silence, “using the male servants was because I was straight. Wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You all didn’t think I’d be comfortable with women fucking Camille in front of me.”

“No.”

“Strange to think how much someone can change in such a short amount of time.”

Miss Lancaster finished her drink and refilled it. At first, she refused to participate in the sessions. Then, Camille slowly weedled her down as she did with everyone. Camille was a force of nature, like erosion of the wind and waves. No one could withstand her forever, and eventually Miss Lancaster found herself naked and in Camille’s bed. She only had eyes for Camille. She never looked at the other bodies, never engaged with them or touched them. Some staff members would have affairs with each other, driven wild with lust by the tease of the sessions, but not Miss Lancaster. Some, like Laura, found themselves preferring women as their ideal mate started to look more and more like Camille, but not Miss Lancaster. She had done her best to remain herself through a decade of service, and she had done so by strength of character if nothing else.

“The sessions don’t change everyone,” she said.

“Oh really?” said Laura. Miss Lancaster heard her voice approaching, but she didn’t turn around. “You don’t find yourself looking at women differently, wondering what they look like with their clothes off? Wondering how they taste? Wondering if they’re shaved or unshaved?”

“I’m not a child,” said Miss Lancaster.

“Clearly not.”

Miss Lancaster turned around, almost ready to slap Laura. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Laura’s confidence seemed to melt as she saw the rage in Miss Lancaster’s face. She must have known she’d gone too far. Good. Miss Lancaster could handle comments about needing sleep, about looking overworked. She did need sleep. She was overworked. It may have been callous, but they were only telling her the truth. Besides, she knew it was true. She couldn’t lie to herself. Every day she looked in the mirror and saw the crow’s feet spreading. She saw her hair greying. She thought she had more time. She was barely forty, but time had caught up with her. The speed of the transformation had taken her off guard, but no matter how often she went to the gym, no matter how much makeup she put on, no matter what she did, she couldn’t avoid looking more and more like her mother. Laura could tell her she needed a nap, but no one, not even Camille, could tell her she was old.

“N-nothing,” stammered the thin brunette.

“Are you saying I’m -” Miss Lancaster took a deep breath. Laura didn’t look like someone who’d done something malicious. She looked like she’d just accidentally stepped on a landmine, which she had.

“I’m saying that ... oh Jesus, now I’m scared to say it.”

“What?” Miss Lancaster took a step towards Laura. The girl had few allies left in the house. If it wasn’t for Camille’s strange attachment to the girl, she’d have been in the dungeons months ago. Miss Lancaster had read Angelica’s reports. Laura never talked to her father, her only family, and the rest of those that cared about her worked here. She could slip away without too much of a problem, but everytime Angelica or Miss Lancaster suggested it, Camille would insist that she stay. She would take away responsibility and freedom, but she never wanted Laura gone completely. Miss Lancaster often wondered if Laura was a pet, or a prisoner.

“It’s just that ... okay, when I say you’re clearly not a child, it’s a compliment, okay?” Laura blushed a deep red and looked at her feet. “It means that ... I just ...” Laura stepped away from Miss Lancaster. “Nevermind.”

Miss Lancaster followed, resisting the urge to grab Laura’s arm and make her look up. “No,” she said. The urgency and neediness were obvious in her voice, but she didn’t care. She was tired, more tired than she believed possible. If someone, anyone, was finally going to pay her a compliment, to notice and appreciate her, she wasn’t going to pass it up.

“Tell me,” she said.

Laura looked up, embarrassment clear in her face. “It’s just that ... well, for me at least ... that you were one of the great parts of the Muse Session. I mean, watching you at least. Looking over your body, your strength, your abs, your ... everything.”

Laura blushed and looked back down at the ground. “You’re clearly not a child in the best way,” she whispered.

Miss Lancaster’s smile flickered on and off. She was unsure of how to proceed. Laura belonged to Camille. It was a property thing with the vampire. She was easily made jealous. That was one of the things that made her get rid of Nikki so quickly. But, as tears flooded Miss Lancaster’s tired eyes, she wanted to hug the young woman. She wanted to wrap her in her arms and thank her for the kind words, for the gentle gift of relief.

“Thank you.” She managed to say it without her voice cracking. “And sorry for overreacting, it’s just that ... I’m a little sensitive about ... certain comments.”

“Absolutely,” said Laura quickly. “I realized it as soon as I said it. It was insensitive. My bad. Really.”

“Yeah,” croaked Miss Lancaster. It was all she could manage.

“I’ve always thought it a shame that Camille kept you all to herself.” Laura stepped closer to Miss Lancaster. She took a tissue from the desk and offered it to her. “She kept all of us to herself.”

“Yeah.” Miss Lancaster wiped the budding tears from her eyes, saving her makeup. “But it is her house. Her rules, after all.”

“Right, and her ...” Laura lowered her voice, “being what she is. Who can refuse her?”

“Best not to talk about those things.” Miss Lancaster straightened. “Let’s find the electrician’s number.”

“Right.”

They went back to work quietly. Laura went through another stack of paper, still bringing her candle with her wherever she went despite the lights on in the office. Miss Lancaster flipped through a stack idly, but she wasn’t paying much attention to it. Her mind was going over the Muse Sessions, the ones from weeks ago when Laura was permitted to come. Did she look at Miss Lancaster? Did her eyes roam over Miss Lancaster’s body? She wasn’t sure. She never looked at Laura during the Muse Sessions. She only ever had eyes for Camille. It was part of her job. She was there to please Camille and then leave. That was it.

But as she thought of it now, she thought she remembered Laura looking at her. It had been so long since that happened. Abby hid behind her book, pained to be in the same room with the rest of them. Carol practically wept uncontrollably at the sight of two women pleasing each other. Angelica was cold towards everyone except Camille, whom she worshipped. No. Now that she thought about it, the room was lonely without Laura. Cold. Miss Lancaster had never noticed. She must have been looking at Miss Lancaster, appreciating her, admiring her.