The Ward Ch. 08

Sage's face tightened and she brushed a hand across her eyes. "I wish you every happiness, Edmund." Her voice broke on the last word, and it was clear her limit for conversing was surpassed.

Watching her shake with repressed sobs, her grip on the reigns tighten with purpose, Edmund recognised her imminent retreat, and ran forward. "Wait!"

But Sage had pulled the reins and dug her heel, the horse abruptly reared about and left at a canter that would soon become a gallop.

"SAGE!" Edmund shouted, not caring if every servant on the property heard. He ran after her though there was no point.

Once he lost sight of her, he turned back home, his mind reeling with angst. Joel met him at the entrance.

"My Lord, what-?"

"Have my fastest horse ready," Edmund directed a waiting servant, then turned back to Joel. "I am going to town."

"T-T-To town, my Lord?" Joel stammered hastily, having difficulty keeping pace with Edmund's stride. "That is where Sage goes? Is she safe?"

"Yes, if my suspicions are correct," Edmund answered shortly, glancing down at his clothing. "But I hope to overtake her before...she is clearly a skilled rider. I am not sure by what means she mastered..." Edmund took a moment to compose himself. "I believe there is only once place left where she would find sanctuary."

"With Aleksis?" Joel ventured once the servants were out of earshot.

Edmund brusquely shook his head. "No. Whatever occurred between them tonight... it was disastrous. I saw it in her eyes. She's angry, reckless and though she would never reveal it, she's afraid."

"My Lord, what reason would she have to-"

"She gave little explanation," Edmund curtly interrupted. "If you'd seen her change in demeanour, Joel, how friendless she seemed." He sharply exhaled, clawed a hand through his hair and ran to meet a large horse being led out.

Joel followed and stroked the excited horse's mane as Edmund hauled himself into the saddle. "Please bring her home safely, my Lord."

"I intend to," Edmund grimly replied. "I only pray Habern will be conciliatory about it."

*****

Geoffrey Habern was seated in his study, his frowning gaze on the fireplace when a servant hurried in.

"My Lord, you have a visitor," the man said nervously.

Lord Habern frowned dismissively, still gazing at the bright flames. "It's hardly past dawn. Who is it?"

"I don't know, my Lord, I've not seen this lady and she would not give a name. However, she does resemble-"

"Lady?" Habern blankly repeated, completely dumbfounded. "Unaccompanied?"

"Yes, my Lord. I believe she respectable."

The surprise on Habern's face quickly dissolved. "What were you going to say? She resembles Lydia?"

Stunned by his master's apt guess, the servant slightly bowed. "If I may speak freely, she is the very image of Miss Lydia's portraits."

"But she's betrothed to Lord Edmund Bard...I could only hope that she will accept..." Habern muttered more to himself than the servant, then shook his head. "What are you waiting for? Bring her to me!"

The man immediately bowed out and Geoffrey's attention was fixed on the doorway until Sage was ushered in and the door discreetly closed behind her.

Habern gut clenched at the vision that seemed so strangely familiar, the same feeling he experienced the first moment he'd sighted Sage at the ball.

"Sit, please," he said hoarsely, gesturing the settee opposite.

Sage obeyed, finding it difficult to meet her uncle's eyes when he scrutinised her so intently.

Habern quickly realised the girl was distraught, but it was incredibly difficult to distract his mind from her features so like his late sister. "I feared you were being detained at the Stile residence," he began slowly, seeing Sage's fists clench in her lap. "How did you escape?"

"The Stiles' are dead," Sage replied, slowly lifting her gaze from the floor to see Habern draw back with amazement.

"Dead?" he exclaimed, rubbing his jaw with alarm. "By your hand?"

"Somewhat," she said bitterly.

Habern bit his lip, looking perplexed and entirely unsure where to begin. "You have come to me for help?"

"I have come to you because you are my Uncle," she said shortly, not sounding particularly excited about the fact.

Habern drew a breath of relief. "It pleases me to hear you acknowledge it. I'd no idea how I was to convince you without offending Bard. Marianne-"

"My name is 'Sage'," she curtly interrupted.

"Sage," Habern corrected himself. "I have many questions, as you know, but they will wait. Have you been harmed? Do you require a physician?"

"No," Sage said softly, though her face tightened. Habern reached for her hand, but registered her body language and changed his mind.

"And Lord Bard? You are still betrothed?"

Sage shook her head and quickly looked to the fireplace.

Keenly observing Sage's taut profile, Habern watched tears silently pass down her cheeks. "I'll have a room prepared with a breakfast tray," he said gently. "If the Stiles' are dead, I am likely to be notified by the guard in person. In the current circumstances it would be best that I speak on your behalf. Please wait here while I see to your quarters."

Still carefully gazing at the fire, Sage managed to nod her acceptance. Once the door closed behind Habern, she sobbed into her hands.

*****

Sage had been escorted to her quarters when Edmund arrived.

Habern was in the midst of making arrangements for Sage's prolonged stay and reluctantly agreed to see Edmund. In a private room, Edmund tossed back a glass of water and briefly rubbed his face before jumping straight to his matter of concern. "Geoffrey, I am grateful for your sheltering Sage, and I would be more grateful if you would take me to her."

Habern sighed. "My niece is fatigued, Edmund."

"As we all are!" Edmund snapped, wringing his riding gloves. "You don't understand, Geoffrey-"

"By all means, enlighten me."

Edmund made an impatient gesture. "That would be impossible."

"Then I am afraid I cannot let you see her," Habern gently concluded.

Edmund shot him a shrewd glare. "You've no intention of it, no matter what I divulge."

"Sage is my niece," Habern explained. "Now that she has come to me, even if your betrothal were to resume, I am responsible for her until your nuptials."

Edmund angrily began to pace the room.

"She tells me the Stiles' are dead?" Habern questioned, looking thoughtful when Edmund nodded. "Why did they detain her?"

"Lord Stiles was infatuated with her." Edmund stopped pacing. "You reported her missing to the guard. How did you know-?"

"The very sight of her took me by surprise," Habern said slowly. "And for whatever reason, she opted to deny any association with me despite our resemblance. Once she rejected my kinship, I left your party and sent a servant to observe your premises."

Edmund's jaw fell open incredulously. "You spied on her?"

"My intentions were principled," Habern tiredly shrugged. "The moment I received word that she entered Stiles' carriage; I went straight to the Guard. You and I know the reputation of that family, especially where females are concerned."

Before Edmund could reply, there was a knock at the door and a frightened servant announced a member of the Guard was waiting in the parlour.

"As anticipated, though sooner than I hoped. Take him to the tea room. I will meet with him shortly," Habern said dryly, turning back to continue with Edmund.

The servant cleared his throat awkwardly. "T-The gentleman also requests the presence of Lord Bard."

"I dismounted in a hurry," Edmund explained when Habern looked baffled. "He likely noticed my horse roaming your courtyard."

"Very well," Habern said tentatively, running his eyes over Edmund's unkempt brown hair. "I hoped for a less complex meeting with Stephan, but I suppose the sooner we face him the better."

They found Stephan standing stiffly by the parlour window, and upon their entry the large man turned but did not bow.

Though presentable, Stephan's light brown hair was mildly ruffled from a tumultuous night's work, any handsomeness buried by his stone-cold character. He had changed to a new uniform, a refreshing replacement with the emblem firmly affixed to the material. Edmund's eyes were on the badge, with a clear temptation to repeat his damage of the night before.

"I trust you are aware of my reason for calling?" Stephan asked flatly.

Edmund's eyes gleamed with hatred, though he smiled with satisfaction. The Stiles' would have paid Stephan a substantial amount for his service, the income loss would be vastly inconvenient.

"Stephan, I believe I may also speak for Lord Bard to confirm we are entirely in the dark," Habern said smoothly, and Edmund agreed with a slight nod of contempt.

Stephan bared his teeth. "Well, I am sorry to be the bearer of grave tidings, my Lords, to inform you there was a tragedy at the Stiles' estate overnight. The Lord and Lady did not survive it."

"What terrible news!" Habern exclaimed with appropriate dismay. "Was it a fire?"

"It was not." Stephan's eyes turned even colder. "What's left of the estate remains under examination. The few survivors are not quite...coherent."

"Goodness, Stephan, it sounds like an appalling situation," Habern remarked.

"And why did you wish to speak with us about it?" Edmund bluntly queried.

"Well, both of you were present to protest the alleged imprisonment of Sage," Stephan sneered. "Naturally you would be my first point of call."

"You have come to accuse us?" Habern slightly raised his eyebrows. "Stephan, you and several members of the guard witnessed our departure from the Stiles' residence. You are likely to be one of the last to see them alive. Presuming they were still breathing when you took your leave?"

If Edmund was not seething with hatred, he might have laughed at the look on Stephan's face.

Stephan choked and coughed down his instinctive retort. "There is still the matter of the missing girl."

"Oh, not missing, Stephan, not at all," Habern waved a dismissive hand and appearing not to notice Stephan's surprise. "It was as you suggested; my niece was resting here, and I suppose slipped by the night servants while I was out. Young ladies, you know," he said apologetically.

"In which case, I must demand an audience with her," Stephan spoke menacingly through his teeth, and Edmund's fingers were already closing about his sword.

"Whatever for?" Habern lightly queried. "You personally verified that she was never at the Stiles' estate. Unless you spoke an untruth, I don't believe there is reason to disturb her."

A very tense silence lingered, until Habern plucked a gold bell from the table to summon a servant. "Well, I thank you for informing us about the Stiles', Stephan. It's always pleasing to see a man so dedicated to a cause."

Pale with fury, Stephan stalked from the room before the servant arrived to show him out.

"Well, then," Habern drew his handkerchief to map his brow. "I've not slept for too many hours to continue this performance. I must retire, Edmund, and you are welcome to stay. It will be no trouble to prepare a room; I believe we are all exhausted."

"I thank you," Edmund politely accepted. "If you could dispatch a message to my estate to notify Joel of my whereabouts and Sage's safety-"

"No trouble at all," Habern yawned, opening one eye to peer out the window. "I'll have your horse kept in my stable."

****

Edmund sat a long while in the chair by the bed, staring at the wall, his food-tray untouched.

The situation wasn't bad, save for the crippling heartache of Sage's rejection, and her own apparent suffering. As much as his mind worked, he couldn't fathom why she would turn on Aleksis after he was integral in her rescue.

Edmund started at the softest knock on the door; far too hesitant to be servant.

"Come in," he answered, and watched Sage slip into the room, using her back to press the door shut behind her.

Sage wore a pale rose night-gown, dark hair curling over her shoulders, blue eyes downcast.

"Sage," Edmund breathed, moving to the edge of his seat. He remained, not wanting to frighten her from the room.

"You found me," she smiled, still staring at her feet. Though her eyes were still hard, the roughish curve of her lips was playful.

"I always will." Edmund's eyes dropped to her pretty lace slippers. "I'm glad you've come to me."

"Lord Hab- My Uncle," she frowned, testing out the title. "He wants me to remain with him and claim my inheritance. To officially end my engagement with you, but not so soon to hint scandal, given the Stiles..." she swallowed, tears filled her eyes. "Edmund, I stabbed Nicholas-"

"Good." Edmund swiftly stood from the chair and pulled her into his arms, feeling her trepidation melt as her arms curved about his torso. He sighed into the top of her head, savouring the softness of her hair against her cheek. "Sage, if you do not love me anymore, I will respect your wishes." He drew back and cupped her cheek. "Is it true?"

Staring into his eyes, Sage's lips hesitantly parted, then closed, her eyes vulnerably huge. Edmund forgot himself and kissed her, forcing Sage back against the door in his passion.

Reminded of happier times, Sage's arms moved about his neck, she pressed against him urgently, thrilled by the hardness that greeted the movement.

"I want you," she panted into his mouth, kissing his cheek, his neck, pushing his shoulders the direction of the bed. "Take me, Edmund..."

Edmund drew back suddenly, both giddy with desire and entirely disturbed. The kiss was intense pleasure, but he'd never consider anything further. "Sage, what happened to you?"

Sage dismissed his query and reached for him, but Edmund stepped away from her.

"I asked you a question before," he said slowly, his eyes raking her face, slightly flushed with guilt. "Do you still wish to marry me?"

"That is impossible," she said curtly, wringing her hands.

Astounded, Edmund raked a hand through his hair. "Then why have you come?"

"Because I wanted...I thought..." she muttered, unable to meet his burning stare. "A last time with you before it's too late..."

"You came to indulge your desires with no intention of marrying me?" Edmund said flatly, though his erection was still clearly visible. "And you presumed I would bed you without question?" He drew a slow breath at her telling silence. "You must think very little of me, Sage."

"I thought you loved me!" she hotly accused, angered by his tone and the fact he was right.

"I do," Edmund replied, frowning heavily, his eyes wary as they picked up the change in her demeanour. "But I am becoming more attuned to the fact there is something awry which you have not yet told me. And it's not to do with the loss of your maidenhood," he added, anticipating Sage's retort by the look on her face.

Sage tiredly shrugged. "It's such a hopeless mess, Edmund, you couldn't understand."

"Sage, of the time you've known me, when have I not listened regardless of the unusual nature of your situation?" Edmund asked quietly. "If you cannot be with me for a reason other than your feelings, I deserve to know what it is."

Tears filled Sage's eyes and she looked despairing. Aleksis' deceitful trespass was unforgivable, and there was every chance Edmund would pursue the matter on principle.

"I'm witchblood," she confided with deliberation. "My family have been for many generations."

"I've guessed as much." Edmund brushed the news aside with a slight shake of his head, still holding her gaze. "That's not the secret you're keeping."

Staring back, Sage slowly shrugged.

"Sage, you're...different," Edmund observed, both confused and discomfited. It was the same feeling when she met him at the gates, as though a part of her was missing.

"This was a mistake." Sage swallowed and backed away. Before Edmund could think to speak, she slipped from the room.

****

Simon braced against the wall, violently ill, his hands clawed the concrete, leaving harsh stripes as they balled into fists.

"I did warn you," Aleksis murmured, laying along a black velvet couch he'd brought to the prison for his own comfort. Attired in grey and white, with his shining black boots resting on the couch armrest, he was entirely pristine.

Simon's appearance was a different matter. His servant uniform hung from his frame in shredded tatters, the white and beige material stained with blood and dirt. He'd agreed with Aleksis that there was little point him wearing anything decent in his current state.

And an unpleasant state it was. The young Bard servant was hardly prepared to suddenly transition into a murderous vampire, and the process was an unfathomable nightmare.

The castle underground was much like the Stiles', though cleaner and more ancient. It was where Simon was to reside until he could master his instinct and emotions. Thankfully his mental faculties were unaffected, but there was a lot of difficultly controlling reactions which arose in the blink of an eye.

"I took one bite!" Simon heaved.

"Would you be comforted to know I experienced the same?"

Simon shuddered and drew a deep breath. "Yes," he managed, before choking into the large bucket positioned conveniently under him.

"And I had no mentor," Aleksis wryly pointed out, before the smile quickly left his eyes. "I had no one."

Simon turned his head and rolled a fiery red eye toward Aleksis, able to sense what no ordinary man could determine. "Sage was to be your companion?" he said weakly, though there was a vein of sarcasm in his voice. "I think her heart is taken, my Lord."

"Even now, your loyalty is to Bard," Aleksis complained, narrowing his eyes at the ceiling. "I'd hoped you might be cleansed of your prior sense of obligation. You are free now."

"You forget I have seen you at your very worst." Breathing more evenly, Simon turned and moved clear of the bucket to slide down the wall with exhaustion. "You must love Sage to want an eternity with her."

"Every moment without her cuts me."

"If you loved her, you wouldn't trap her," Simon murmured, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, Aleksis was sitting up and glaring at him.

"My only regret is that I waited to demonstrate my affections. I would never force her into an unhappy arrangement."

Simon gently raised his eyebrows. "I could smell her in the woods. Even through my disorientation, it was obvious to me that she-"

"Would you like another bite of the apple?" Aleksis lightly offered, his eyes angry.

When Simon flinched, Aleksis neatly fell back to the couch, his face tight with displeasure. "I'm sorry," he said shortly. "It is difficult for me to reconcile with Sage preferring a mundane existence that will inevitably expire when she could have..." Glancing aside, he trailed off with a grin when Simon looked furiously indignant. "Oh, cheer up lad. It won't be so very bad."

"Is this permanent?" Simon asked bluntly, tiredly ruffling his unkempt hair.

"It will last a few weeks," Aleksis replied, his musing eyes back on the ceiling.

Simon shook his head. "I mean this... condition. Is there no way to reverse it? If I'm newly turned..."

Disliking the implication, Alekis turned to his side with a cold look. "You would choose to go back to work for Master Bard, toiling away as a servant until your limbs are too old to carry you?"

Simon tilted his head. "I suppose that is another inclination you would not understand. I sought to aid Sage, nothing more. She once saved my life. But I suppose you received it anyway," he laughed, then grasped his stomach when the movement caused him to retch.

When Aleksis did not reply, Simon continued. "My life was happy and I would return. You never answered about the possibility of returning. Sage chose Lord Bard, regardless of the high value you place on immortality."