The Tale Of The Vampire Bride
Page 4

She looked at me hopefully. “Do you really believe that? You are not afraid?”
With a wild laugh, I twirled away from her down the shadowy hallway. “Of course not.”
The two gypsy women exchanged furtive glances, and I caught their dark expressions out of the corner of my eye. I gave them a sharp look, warning them to keep silent, then rushed back to shower May with kisses as I pressed her firmly into her room.
“Tomorrow will be a grand day. Now rest up!”
I made a great show of blowing her kisses, then shut the door firmly. I shall never forget the expression on her delicate face. She was afraid. Later, I realized she was afraid for me.
“Now, don’t you go frightening my sister with heathen concepts of ghosts and other horrible creatures,” I said to the gypsy women.
One laughed softly as the other crossed herself.
“There is more in this world than you English know,” the somber one said, brushing past me.
The chortling gypsy followed, holding her lantern high.
I frowned, following, quite perturbed by their behavior. There was a certain part of me that was quite taken with the castle. It seemed like the dreary, gloomy setting of a gothic romance that was found in the sensationalistic penny dreadfuls. I could easily imagine all sorts of ungodly creatures roaming the shrouded hallways and lurking in the darkened doorways.
I shivered as my thoughts strayed to the Prince.
No, the true danger was the Prince. The way he had gazed at me had unnerved me. I had had a few men look upon me with desire before. I could tell they were wondering what the caress of my lips would feel like against theirs. However, I was certain the Prince had been imagining something much more lascivious.
I noticed that the gypsies were guiding me deeper into the castle, leaving my family far down the hall.
“Why is my room so far away from my family?”
“Many of the rooms are not very good. We are giving you the nicest room,” one gypsy woman said as she opened a door for me.
The spacious room was fairly clean, but smelled odd. There was a large bed with beautiful, rich bedclothes that were showing their great age, and I wrinkled my nose with distaste. My luggage was already open, and a nightgown was laid out for me on the turned down covers.
I frowned. “This is the nicest room?”
Disregarding my rather rude question, they shut the door solidly behind me.
This was such a horrid place. Yes, the décor was ornate, but it was so old. So worn. So ancient.
In the corner, steam rose from a small basin set out so I could freshen up. I quickly discarded my traveling clothes, washed my face and limbs, and changed into the nightgown. I longed for a proper bath, but that did not seem likely. After making sure that the shutters were drawn tight over the windows, I climbed reluctantly into the musty bed. I snuggled down under the cover, attempting to relax.
The wind sang outside the window and thunder boomed in the distance. Faintly, I thought I heard wolves howling. Except for the fire raging in the fireplace across the room, there was nothing to give me comfort.
I thought of ghosts and goblins, entertaining a moment of fear, but then I laughed aloud at the ridiculous concept. As I did every night, I said my prayers and settled down to sleep.
Again, I thought I heard whispers just beyond the edge of my hearing. My eyes snapped open, and I glanced about the room. It was empty, yet I could still hear the hushed voices.
“Who is there?”
There was no direct answer to my question, but the voices continued to linger just on the edge of my hearing.
I sat up and glared at the doorway. “Who is at my door?”
Slowly, I came to realize that the whispers were all around me. Leaping from the bed, I began to feverishly look about for any source of the odd phenomenon. Try as I may, I could not fully hear the voices that were taunting me, or find their origin.
“I must be mad,” I said aloud.
Shaking my head, my long hair falling around my shoulders, I put a hand to my face. As I listened, the soft whispers faded away. Eventually, I began to believe I had imagined the entire incident.
Weary from the journey, disturbed by my own hallucinations, I climbed back into the bed. Exhaustion must be playing with my mind, I thought.
Soon, sleep claimed me, and I fell into a restless slumber.
As I lay there in the great bed, in this old dark castle, I dreamed the strangest dream. Prince Vlad rose up beside the bed, standing over me, his chest bare, and his auburn hair falling to his waist. A strange pendant hung against his muscled chest. It was a golden dragon.
And in this strange dream, he leaned over me, gazing upon me. He ran his hands over my long red tresses, letting my curls wrap around his fingers.
“Yes, my dearest Glynis, you are the one.”
And in this dream, that frightened and aroused me, his hands slid over me, slowly drawing down the bedclothes. Moving onto the bed, he knelt over me, reaching down to stroke my face with his cold fingertips. Sliding a hand under my neck, he lifted me toward him, my hands falling helplessly to my sides. Slowly, his other hand dipped seductively into my nightgown, resting over my beating heart.
In my dream state, I could feel my heart beginning to beat harshly, and I strained to fully open my eyes. My body was on fire beneath his touch.
Desire in his eyes, he leaned over, breathing in my breath.
I swooned, my face falling away from him, exposing my throat. I wanted to scream and thrash about, but my body betrayed me.
And in this nightmare, this odd dream of mine, he licked my throat with his long tongue, a gesture of a dark promise of what was to come.
“Soon,” he said.
A deep moan broke forth from my own lips, wakening me.
I sat upright and looked about quite anxiously. The bed was empty save for me. The bedclothes were tossed about and hanging partially off the bed. My hand flew to my throat and it felt damp to my touch. My entire body was heaving. My nightgown fell loosely over one shoulder, exposing one breast. I quickly covered it, irrationally fearing it would somehow be seen.
The dream still clung to me as I slipped off the bed. Still trembling from the throes of the nightmare, I moved about the room, looking into every darkened corner, and behind every piece of furniture. I fancied I would find the Prince hiding there, waiting to ravish me once more in my sleep, but he was no where to be found.
I was quite alone.
The room was empty.
The Prince did not dwell in the shadows.
I was alone.
Heart thudding, I forced myself to take refuge under the covers.
Sleep took long in returning.
Chapter 3
The Journal of Lady Glynis Wright - Continued
I was already lying awake staring into the shadows when morning came. The storm had disappeared during the night. The breeze wafting through the window I had opened shortly after awakening was cool and fresh. I slipped from the bed and moved toward the window, desperate to see the sun. I had craved the warmth and light of the morning sun in hopes that it would chase away the wraiths of the night. When it finally spilled over the horizon, the light felt cold and harsh, and I shrank back from the window. A chill fluttered over my skin, and I drew my robe tightly around me. The nightmares seemed far away, yet I was still unnerved. The power of their intensity lingered within me.
Though this foreign land was beautiful, it frightened me. Its hidden supernatural pulse beat loudly in my ears, and I could taste it on my tongue. I felt quite irrational and foolish after the harrowing night in the forsaken castle. I felt I had been claimed in that strange, terrible dream.
There was a sharp rap on the door, then my mother’s voice called out, “Glynis, darling, let me in.”
I rushed over and quickly drew back the bolt. As I flung back the door, I found myself confronted by my pensive mother. She was dressed immaculately and looked lovely despite the frown upon her forehead.
“Glynis, what is it? You are so pale!” She rushed into the room and gathered me to her.
“I had the most hideous night,” I cried out.
Taking my hands in hers, she drew me to the window, staring at my face, my neck and then, to my surprise, my body. “No one disturbed you? You are unmolested?”
“No, of course not,” I said, but I found myself wanting to hide from her gaze. I felt quite unlike myself as I drew away from her, glancing warily toward the bed.
“Glynis, are you sure?”
I shook my head and forced a laugh. “I suppose I am acting rather odd. I just did not sleep well, Mama. I just - it was the wind. It seemed to sound like voices at times.”
My mother hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, and so it seemed to me as well, as if the very night was whispering at the window. But of course, that was just nonsense.” Despite her words, I could see she was unnerved and she touched the cross around her neck lightly.
“Perhaps, but I did have horrible dreams. They were quite disturbing and unchristian in every way. I think it is this horrible place.”
My mother sighed and began to fuss with my hair. Her eyes revealed her own restless sleep. Dressed elegantly in blue, she looked very out of place in this strange grotesque castle.
“I had nightmares as well. It is just that this country is so wild. So foreign. They were just dreams, that is all. Now get dressed.”
I tossed my curls at her, feeling rather contrary and moody this morning. I was upset that she did not appreciate how much my nightmares had frightened me.
“But, Mama-”
“Come now, we must get you ready for the day. Enough of our delusions.” My mother waved her hands as if to sweep the memories of our disturbing night away.
I flung myself onto the bed dramatically. “I do not wish to dress! I had the most horrible night!”
“The night is behind us.” She appeared relieved that I had not been ravished by our host and determined that we should put the terrible night behind us.
I curled up in the corner of the bed and wrinkled my nose as she held up a peach colored gown. “It was dreadful! And so is that dress!”
“Really, Glynis, must you be so difficult so soon in the morning?”
“I hate that dress!”
“It is a lovely gown. Do not be spiteful.” She held up the gown that she had insisted we purchase in Paris and waved it about.
“I did not like when we bought it. I do not like it now.” I tossed my curls and fussed with my robe. I was tired from the events of the night and rather perturbed that my Mother dismissed my trauma. My fear and emptiness of the earlier hours gave way to a nice rush of indignant anger.
I pouted at her, and she ignored me.
“Well, it looks rather sweet on you even if you are not.” My mother set her lips and gave me the look I could not bring myself to defy.
As she helped me dress, I grumbled.
“Oh, to be home, with proper servants,” she said.
“I rather miss Midge and Gretchen.” They had tended to the Wright children all of our lives. I had a fond spot for both of them.
“Yes, I miss all of them. It is too tiring trying to look after both you and May. Your sister barely slept last night and kept falling asleep when I was fixing her hair.” I caught the look of disdain on her face. “It is this dreadful place.”
“Then we are leaving soon!”
“Perhaps.”
“What do you mean?”
“Glynis, my darling, we must act like proper guests.”
“I do not want to!”
“But you must.”
“Why must I always do what I wish not to do?”
“Glynis, my most difficult child, every woman must do what she does not wish to do.”
“That’s nonsense. I do not like it. I do not see why we must always bow to the rules of society or our husbands!”
“That is because you are young and foolish.”
I tried to turn to protest, but she firmly turned me away and went back to work on fastening me into my dress.
“I am not foolish,” I countered.