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Authors: Nolene-Patricia Dougan

BOOK: VROLOK
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“You should know Kit, I am always right,” Isabella answered.

“You certainly are, or at least you have been so far.” The pair heard the sound of applause coming from the other room. The play was obviously over.

“Well, I think this brings our conversation to an end,” Isabella stated.

“Why should it? Don’t tell me you have an old oppressive husband who would not like you talking to a younger, more handsome man.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, I have a young gloriously handsome husband who would never be jealous of anyone who had such a meagre standing as yourself.” Vlad now appeared at Isabella’s arm.

“Helen,” Vlad interrupted, summoning Isabella to come with him.

“I will take my leave of you,” Kit said, completely ignoring Vlad. Kit lifted up Isabella’s hand and kissed it, never taking his eyes away from Isabella’s face. This angered Vlad but as always he kept his feelings hidden, knowing that Isabella would take any visible sign of his jealousy as a compliment. But Isabella was much cleverer than that. She knew this had annoyed him, but she said nothing.

Isabella lifted up the side of her skirt so she could turn to face Vlad and stretched out her hand for Vlad to take it. He did so and Isabella walked to the front hall and down the steps.

“Who was that?” Vlad asked.

“No one of any importance,” said Isabella, smiling to herself. Vlad noticed her self-indulgent smile and turned to see the man that had been so insolent, and so familiar with his Isabella. Kit was watching Isabella still. Vlad was furious. This man’s face was etched on Vlad’s memory—he would come to regret his familiarity.

As Isabella stepped up into the carriage that was to take the pair home, she turned to see Kit, and now she too noticed that he was still smiling at her. Vlad and Isabella did not speak about these events, but Vlad knew that this sort of attention flattered Isabella and she loved to be flattered. Isabella knew that Vlad was angry so she would stay close to home for awhile to make sure that Kit was safe from harm.

Isabella became very attentive to Vlad over the next few months and all thoughts of Kit left her mind. The pair hunted, slept and ate together. The ensuing months, were actually quite happy for the two Vampires, but like all other happy times that the pair had shared, it was fleeting. This time their happiness was to be interrupted by an invitation to a play.

It came in the morning when both Vampires had just gone to sleep. Unfortunately for Isabella, Vlad was the first to awaken and he saw the invitation. Vlad opened it and read the contents; he then resealed it with hot wax. He placed it where it would look as if he had not seen it.

Isabella awoke an hour later just as Vlad knew she would. She tried to conceal it from him and acted as if nothing had arrived for her. Vlad thought she was concealing it because she favoured, even loved Kit. He was right to some degree, but he was in no danger of losing Isabella to Kit. By concealing the letter she thought that she was ensuring Kit’s safety from Vlad’s jealousy.

Isabella went into the other room to take a better look at the invitation. It said, “You are formally invited to a showing of the play, a tragedy,
Tamburlaine the Great
.” Isabella was quite flattered by the invitation and would try to get to see Kit’s play.

Isabella attended the play and although she was unaware of it, Vlad also attended. Kit observed Isabella in the crowd and after the play was over he went to find her.

“Did you like the play?” Kit began.

“It was different,” Isabella answered.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Maybe.”

“I have the feeling that is about the greatest compliment I will ever get from you.”

“My grandfather always taught me never to praise those who praise themselves.”

“He was very wise,” Kit remarked.

“He was,” Isabella answered.

“What other things did your grandfather teach you?” Kit’s tone of voice now changed; all of a sudden he was trying to be sincere. “What I mean to say is, I want to get to know you, Helen.”

Vlad, who was standing out of sight of the pair, decided to break into their conversation.

“Helen, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Vlad said. Obviously lying, he motioned to Kit and asked, “Helen, are you not going to introduce me to your friend?”

Isabella was now obviously anxious but she should have known Vlad would follow her.

“This is Edward Hawthorne, my husband—this is Kit, the writer of the play and an acquaintance of mine,” Isabella said politely.

“An acquaintance…I am sorry, Kit was it? I always wonder where my wife finds time to make her acquaintances.”

“Your wife is an independent woman, sir,” replied Kit. His previous sincerity had now completely dissipated and was now replaced with disdain. “I am sure you have many acquaintances that she does not know about.”

Isabella knew that Vlad saw this as insolence and thought it would be better to take Vlad and leave. “I think on that note we will leave; it was nice to see you again Kit and I enjoyed your play very much. Let us go, Edward.”

Vlad was staring maliciously at Kit and Isabella tugged him on his arm. He turned his head swiftly towards Isabella and threw her a venomous look. It was a look that would have scared or at least silenced most people, but not Isabella.

“Our carriage is waiting for us outside,” Isabella said sternly. Vlad reluctantly started to move to the door of the crucible-shaped theatre, but as they were just about to step outside, he turned back.

“The next time you want to send an invitation to my wife make sure it is addressed to both of us,” he said.

Kit made a bow of mocking respect and said, “I certainly will not.”

At this Vlad was enraged. He swept swiftly towards Kit and grabbed his throat. The people who were still in the theatre were stunned at this man’s outburst and whispers and shrieks resonated throughout the crowd.

Isabella crept up beside Vlad, took his hand from around Kit’s throat, and whispered in his ear, “You are the one who wants to stay here. Do you want people to know what we are?” At this Vlad let go of Kit’s throat and he dropped him back onto his feet. “I would suggest, sir, you do not contact me again,” Isabella said to Kit.

Vlad then proceeded to lean towards him and said, “You have been saved, but just for a moment.”

The two Vampires left the theatre. Isabella looked back around at Kit just before he was out of sight. He was rubbing his neck but when she caught his gaze he smiled and winked at her. Isabella thought at that instant this was a man who would not live long.

Isabella and Vlad returned to their home nearby without saying a word to each other. They were both furious with each other. Vlad was the first to speak when they entered the house.

“Why did you go there this evening without telling me?”

“Because I knew the way you would react,” Isabella stated.

“I would not have reacted that way if you had been honest with me and not deceitful.”

“Oh, yes, you would! Only you would have covered your tracks better and not nearly killed him in the middle of a crowded theatre.”

“You persist in trying to torment me like this.”

“Is this what our life together is going to be like? We are happy and then someone invites me to a play and you fly into a jealous fit?”

“You know that is not the way things happen. I wish you were more like my wife!”

Isabella walked up to face Vlad and whispered slowly to him, “I wish you were more like my husband.”

Vlad lashed out at Isabella, knocking her to the floor. She jumped to her feet again and struck Vlad, knocking him to the floor. She walked towards the door.

“I will come back when I think you can control your tantrums,” she shot back at him. Vlad just lay there rubbing his face where Isabella had hit him. He wanted to run after her and stop her, but he couldn’t and he wouldn’t.

Isabella picked up her wooden chest and a few dresses and left Vlad again. She secretly wanted him to chase her. She was travelling down the cobblestone street in the carriage willing him to be behind, calling out her name. She looked back, but he was not there.

 

Isabella left England soon after her argument with Vlad. The two Vampires had now spent a few years apart, and although Isabella was still annoyed with Vlad, she missed her life with him. He was company for her and without him she was completely alone. She pined for him. So Isabella made her way back to England.

There was one other reason for her going back to England. She had found some writing that she wanted to give to Kit. She thought he might like it. She missed him as well, and missed his childish wickedness. The article was called
The History of Doctor Johann Faust
,
the Infamous Magician and Necromancer.
She knew Kit would appreciate it, so she was determined to return with it.

In England, everything was the same as she had left it. There was no emotional greeting between the two Vampires, but they were both happy to be close to each other again.

Vlad enthusiastically told Isabella that he had not injured Kit in anyway, as a favour to her. Isabella was pleased, if somewhat surprised.

“Good. I intend going to see him,” Isabella began.

“Fine.” Isabella was slightly uneasy by Vlad’s eagerness to demonstrate how much he did not care, but she would hope for the best, and the next day she went to see Kit with his present.

She looked for him at the theatre but didn’t find him. She then started searching the taverns. Isabella eventually found him sitting in a dark corner of a nearby tavern. He was by himself and he looked dreadful. Isabella smiled and approached him, intent on giving him the story she had brought with her.

“You are looking rather melancholy,” Isabella began.

“Leave me alone,” Kit said.

“You could at least look at me before you tell me to leave you alone.” Kit looked up and smiled when he saw Isabella.

“Ah, sweet Helen, have you come to torment me?”

“You manage to torment yourself well enough.”

“The wisdom of a woman,” Kit said sarcastically.

“Do you want me to leave?” Isabella asked.

“No, quite the contrary,”

“Still a child, I see,”

“Only in your eyes. You are the only one I know who thinks of me as I child. How is your oppressive husband?”

“He is well, and a better man than you,” Isabella quipped.

“Then why are you here?”

Isabella found herself asking the same question.

“I brought you something,” she said. “It’s a book I found it in Frankfurt. It is about a man who made a pact with the devil. He sold his soul for pleasure and power. It might interest you.”

“It might,” Kit said, completely uninterested.

“I will leave it with you, then.” Kit made no response and Isabella threw the book at him and left. After a few more drinks Kit picked up the publication and started to read it. He became immersed in the story.

Kit’s behaviour had made it easy for Isabella to resolve never to go and see him again. She returned to her home and promised Vlad that she would never see Kit again.

However, after a few months another invitation to a play arrived. It was an invitation from Kit to see the tragedy of “
Doctor Faustus.
” It came through the door and again Vlad was the first one to see it. This time he did not open it. Isabella, unaware that Vlad was watching her, lifted the invitation and ripped it up.

Another few months went by and another invitation arrived, “
The Famous Tragedy of the Jew Malta
” and again Isabella ripped it up, for she was stubborn. Vlad was now content and so was Isabella; they stayed together fairly happily for the next few years.

 

Isabella had not seen Kit since he had been so rude to her and she no intention of seeking him out. But, one night in November, 1593, he decided to seek her out. Isabella was out alone looking for food. She was getting irritated. She could usually rely on beggars and thieves to be out at night, but tonight the streets were empty. A few hours passed and she heard a coach travelling quite fast a few streets from where she stood. She waited for the coach to approach her. Isabella threw herself out in front of it to stop it. This was a trick she had used before.

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