History of the Vampire (The Vanderlind Castle Series Book 4) (9 page)

BOOK: History of the Vampire (The Vanderlind Castle Series Book 4)
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One afternoon my father discovered that the men who were putting in the rose garden were all from Great Britain. “You’re not from Hungary?” he asked, somewhat surprised. “Wasn’t the garden part of the original house? I thought the family had the shrubs and topiary shipped over as well.”

“No. You’ve been misinformed,” a man with thin legs and a round belly told him while leaning on the end of his shovel. I got the impression he wanted a break from his labor. “This place never had a proper English rose garden. But I guess the lady of the house always wanted one.”

“And what better way to get a proper English garden than to have one planted by proper Englishmen,” my father said with a smile.

“That’s right.” The man smiled in return, exposing a large set of yellow teeth. “The lads and I thought it might be a bit of an adventure. Plus the money was right. We brought the rose bushes with us and everything. Most of them fared the voyage without complaint.” Then he added in an aside, “The roses, not the lads. We had a bit of rough weather.”

“It must be nice to be able to order the creation of an entire formal garden on a whim,” my father observed, half to himself.

“Yes, there must be more money than Midas behind those walls,” the gardener agreed, eyeing the castle. “Imagine wanting to move to this tiny town in the middle of nowhere.” Then he realized we were more than likely inhabitants of Tiburon, so he quickly added, “Not that the town doesn’t have its charms.” His face went rather pink. “But you always think of rich people as living in London, or Paris. New York, even. Not a small town in the middle of Iowa.”

“Ohio,” my father said, correcting him, but keeping his voice genial.

“I supposed they want a bit of privacy,” the man said, taking off a heavy work glove and scratching beneath his nose. “I hear that they pretty much like to keep to themselves.”

“I guess they won’t be attending any town hall meetings,” Papa joked. “But I suppose the very rich don’t like to dirty their hands.”

“Not like me and the lads,” the gardener said, slipping on his glove again as if he’d just remembered he had work to do. “Still, it’d be nice to get a peek inside, when the old gal is done,” he said, eyeing the castle once more. “I don’t suppose they’ll be holding tours.”

“If they do, I’ll be the first in line,” my father assured him.

“Is the family going to be arriving soon?” I asked. The castle was pretty much devoid of windows, so it was impossible to get a sense of the comings and goings of anyone inside.

“Not that I know of, Miss,” he told me, his face rather serious. “Although, from what I’ve heard from some of the I-talian fellows, the family isn’t very nice. In fact, there were one or two stories that could stand a grown man’s hair on end, if anyone was to believe them.”

Papa cleared his throat. “I’m not sure it’s right to start rumors about a family before they’ve even driven into town,” he said with a note a censure.

The man shrugged. “It’s hard to have a big house like this, and all the money that goes with it, and not at least stir up a few rumors.” Turning his attention back to me, he leaned forward a little and gave me a stern look. “I hope you aren’t expecting a prince charming to go along with the castle as a matched set.”

I immediately felt my face go red and I placed a hand to my cheek. My father stepped slightly in front of me, as if to shield me from the gardener’s impertinence. “My daughter enjoys studying history,” he informed the man. “I think she’s just hoping for some more facts about the castle’s past.”

The man nodded, his expression growing sober. “Just as long as she remembers that sometimes where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” His eyes became thoughtful. “Or blood, as the I-talians tell it.”

I was grateful for my father’s protection, and I did enjoy history, but I still felt the humiliation of being thought of as some silly school girl longing for a prince to move into the neighborhood and notice her. I probably felt doubly embarrassed because maybe the man’s assessment of me hinted at the truth.

I couldn’t help but wonder about the stories being spread by the Italian workers. And what expression did they have in Italy about blood? I glanced around, wondering when the Italians took their coffee break and if there was any way I could speaking with one of them.

 

When we returned home that evening, Lilly was sitting on the front steps waiting for us. “Hello Papa,” she said, springing up to give our father a kiss as he climbed the stairs. “Hello, Lettie,” she said, giving me a squeeze, her face all smiles.

“What’s going on?” I asked, returning her smile with a suspicious glance. She usually wasn’t quite that much of a welcoming committee.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, but she could hardly suppress her smile. “It’s just that Lev Wilson bought a new car. From the White Motor Company. He and Walter just drove it all the way down from Cleveland.”

I had to admit, I was impressed that Lev could afford a car. Especially a new one. It made me wonder where he got his money. “How can he afford that?” I had to ask.

“From his work, of course,” Lilly said, giving me a small frown.

“Oh,” I said with a nod. It was too embarrassing to admit that I had no idea what Lev did for a living. I was sure he had told me, I just hadn’t bothered to listen. “Did he buy it on credit or something?” I asked. He was still a young man and didn’t have a college education, so I doubted he made that much money.

Lilly frowned again and shrugged as she trailed me into the house. “That really isn’t something I could ask.”

“And just why, exactly, are you bringing all this up?” our father asked as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“Well…” Lilly paused for a moment as she gathered her nerve. “Lev and Walter invited Lettie and me to go for a drive after dinner tomorrow,” she blurted. “Just to see the new car, of course.”

Papa frowned. “Haven’t you been seeing an awful lot of Walter?”

“Not really,” Lilly insisted. “Not an awful lot. In fact, not very much at all.”

Mama had walked into the room while we were talking. “Another date with Walter,” she exclaimed. “I hope you two aren’t getting too serious.”

“Well, I like him very much, if that’s what you mean,” Lilly said. And then her face flushed a little, “But just so you know, Walter has always been a gentleman.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mama said, taking our father’s coat and folding it over her arm. “That’s just how a young man should behave.”

“That’s how any man should behave,” Papa felt the need to add.

“So can we go?” Lilly asked, her eyes shining with excitement. “Just a short drive.” Glancing over at me, she added, “Maybe out to see the castle. I know Colette likes that kind of stuff.”

“Your sister was just at the castle with me,” Papa informed her.

“Oh, but I’m sure she wouldn't mind going again tomorrow.” She looked eagerly in my direction. “Would you, Lettie?”

I had no desire to see Lev Wilson again, but I was already itching to get back to the castle. “I guess I wouldn’t mind,” I said. “As long as it’s just for an hour.” I thought I could put up with anyone’s company for an hour.

Lilly bounced up and down and then gave me a hug.

“I hope you realize that your mother and I haven’t given our approval yet,” Papa said, his voice stern.

Lilly stopped bouncing. “Oh, please,” she said, sounding as if she was Cinderella about to be denied admission to the ball. “I promise it will only be for a half an hour. Maybe an hour at the most.”

Our mother and father exchanged looks. “I’m not sure I approve of you riding around in cars with boys,” Mama said. “But if Walter is the gentleman that you claim, then I suppose it’s alright by me, if it’s alright with your father.”

Lilly clasped her hands together and turned to look at Papa.

“It’s fine, as long as your sister’s with you,” Papa said. “But I want those boys to come inside so I can look them both in the eye again. Most young men remember to mind their p’s and q’s when they know that a father is keeping a close eye on his daughters.”

“Well of course they’ll come in,” Lilly said. “Walter would insist on that, anyway.”

Lilly hurried off to call her beau and I started setting the table for dinner. I was reluctant to see Lev again, but I could probably just block out his words while gazing at the castle. Plus I desperately wanted to speak to one of the Italian carpenters about the Vanderlinds. What were the hair-raising stories about the new family moving into town?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

Jessie

 

Mrs. Denkler went with Emily to the dining room for dinner, but I ordered a meal to be delivered to my room. I intended to try to show up for a few meals with the general public, if only to please my sister and to give the appearance of being mortal, but I was too riled up from my encounter on deck to attempt a meal that night.

I ordered a steak, extra rare, along with roasted potatoes, greens and a bottle of wine. I didn’t go overboard on the wine. I knew I had to order a good vintage to keep up appearances, but I saw no reason to spend a lot of money, when all I was going to do was pour it down the drain. I did think for a moment to offer the bottle to Mrs. Denkler, but then changed my mind. She was in charge of my little sister, after all. I didn’t want to give her an excuse to get tipsy.

After Emily and her temporary governess had returned from their meal and gone to bed, I sat up reading. I was still unused to my new hours of existence. I didn’t know how to give up my days and find ways to fill my nights.

As the hour dragged on past midnight and most of the ship’s passengers had gone to bed, I went up on deck to have a look around. The night was mild and the skies were very clear. The Milky Way was on full display and I took a moment to marvel at the beauty of the heavens.

“Are you having trouble sleeping too?” I heard a familiar voice ask me.

I looked up to see that my mother had also decided upon a late-night stroll. “Oh…” I stammered for a moment before I realized that we weren’t supposed to know each other. “Yes,” I managed. “I know many people find the gentle rocking of a boat sleep-inducing, but it has the opposite effect on me.”

Mother gave a gentle laugh. “I suffer from the same malady, I’m afraid.” Then she turned her head slightly, just enough to let me know that she had heard something or sensed someone else on deck.

Taking a moment to focus, I had to agree with her. I could definitely smell the hormonal-laced musk of an adolescent male close at hand. “Did you enjoy the ship’s departure?” I asked, just for something to say so it wouldn’t look awkward with us both just standing there.

“I found it quite exhilarating,” she told me with a gentle smile.

“Begging your pardon,” a voice said. We both turned to see a young cabin boy who had stepped out of the shadows. His hair was a crown of golden ringlets and his eyes were wide and a brilliant shade of blue. By any standard, he was remarkably beautiful, even though his eyes were crusted slightly with sleep. “Would either of you fine people be needing anything?”

I saw my mother suppress a smirk. The boy had obviously been asleep somewhere in a dark corner and was concerned that he might have been discovered shirking his duties. “I am perfectly comfortable,” my mother told him. “Thank you for asking.” Turning to me, she added, “Anything for you, Mr.…?” She let her words hang in the air, seeing that ostensibly we had not been introduced.

“Vanderlind,” I told her, suppressing a smile of my own. “Jessie Vanderlind.”

My mother provided her false names and we exchanged how-do-you-dos. Then mother turned to the cabin boy and said, “And what is your name, young man?”

The cabin boy looked startled for a moment and then said, “I am Christian Franzen, Ma’am. How do you do?”

“How do you do?” Mother replied.

Christian Franzen stood there for a moment, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do next. “It was nice meeting both of you,” he told us, “but I suppose I’d better be getting back to work.”

After he’d hurried off, my mother remarked in a low voice, “What a beautiful young man. His features are quite striking. Did you see the color of his eyes?”

“There was no missing them,” I had to admit. The boy’s beauty was hard to ignore.

“Blue,” Mother said, a bit wistfully. “A clear blue, like the sky on a perfect day.” Then in a voice that was hardly audible she whispered, “I do hope your grandfather doesn’t catch a glimpse of him. That could only lead to trouble.”

“It is a rather lovely night,” I said, making a show of looking at the stars in the sky. There was the gentle sound of footsteps approaching and I meant to give my mother warning in case she hadn’t heard them.

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