Deliver us from Evil (69 page)

'Nothing save the ring, and the seal upon the letter.' 'What then did you do?'

'Why, my Lord, what do you think?
I
journeyed at once to New York.'

'And what did you discover there?'

'That it was, to my relief, a flea-bite of a town.
I
had heard mighty boasts of it, and been afraid that it would prove a great metropolis; yet there were only a few streets of handsome houses, very like those of Amsterdam, huddled on the tip of an island of rock,
it
was therefore no great task, in such a place, to have the seal identified; and within an hour of my arrival in New York,
I
had discovered the identity of the corpse who had borne it - and more, had gained entry into his house. He had been a Dutchman,
I
found, only twenty years old, the son of rich parents who seemed untroubled by his fate. He had fled them, they told me, to live with his whore; and they had resolved never to see nor to hear from him again. They did not know what he might have been doing in the distant northern woods; nor what his interest in myself might have been. When
I
asked them where his mistress might be found, they shuddered and grew indignant at the very question. As
I
left their house, though, a pretty young servant girl ran after me. She was in tears. "On Long Island," she whispered, "beyond the village of Breuckelen. A farm with peach-trees. His mistress lives there."

I
left on the ferry for Long Island that same night. The heat of day still lingered in the air, and the stars were prickling like silver drops of sweat. They cast a ghostly light as
I
passed through Breuckelen, and then, beyond a small and ugly church, came to a field full of heavily laden peach trees.
I
began to hurry through their shadows. Suddenly,
I
could see the outline of a building ahead of me, and in front of it what seemed to be a long expanse of lawn.
I
began to walk more slowly;
I
could hear the murmuring of voices now.
I
paused. Just then,
I
heard a low, soft laugh, and
I
knew it was Milady.
I
crept forward again, and gazed out at the lawn.

'She was standing pressing the hands of a young man. She kissed him lingeringly; then stepped back and unfastened the clasp of her necklace.
I
recognised it at once: we had bought it together at a fair once in London. "And when you meet with him," she instructed the young man, "do not forget - you must give this to him." She handed it across. "For only then will he know that you have truly come from me." She kissed him again; then stepped away. As she did so, the young man stumbled after her; and
I
saw for the first time how haggard he seemed, how pale and wild-eyed. "Please!" he beseeched her. "One more - one final - kiss!" But Milady shook her head, and brushed him lightly away with her fan. "Only when you bring me Lovelace," she whispered. She smiled. "Now go." The young man choked something; then suddenly he bowed, and turned, and fled. Milady watched him run. Then she walked softly forward to gaze out at the night: at the distant glimmering of the lights of New York, and at the vast and empty darkness beyond.

I
smiled to myself and, drawing out her ring,
I
stepped from the trees and threw it so that it arced above her head, arced and fell upon the grass just before her. She froze; then stepped forward, and picked up the ring. She gazed at it a moment; then turned round, her eyes very wide. She stood frozen again; then laughed chokingly. "Lovelace!"
I
stepped forward. "Lovelace."
I
reached for her, her lips met my own;
I
held her, felt her, her body's soft lines. She was still laughing, even through our kisses, and sobbing as well, and
I
broke away at last to brush the tears from her cheeks. She blinked up at me.
I
could see the patterns of a myriad different emotions crossing her face. "How unchanged you seem," she said
at
last. She laughed again; then frowned and shook her head. "How is it possible, Lovelace," she whispered, reaching up to stroke my hair, "that you are still as youthful and beauteous as when
I
saw you last?"

I
gazed at her. Hair rich and black; lips very soft; eyes more lovely than the brightest gold. "You too, Milady,"
I
whispered in her ear. "You too are unchanged."

' "Yes, Lovelace," she answered - "but you know what
I
am."

'
I
gazed into her eyes; then looked over her shoulder at the darkness beyond.
"
I
have seen many wonders,"
I
murmured at last. "Gained many strange powers."

'She nodded faintly. "So much, at least, would seem evident."

I
smiled. "They are yours, Milady, now." Then
I
tried to lead her from the lawn towards the doorway of the house; but she would not come, and instead she took me in her arms again. Her eyes were gleaming as she studied my face, but her lips seemed parted in puzzlement.

' "What is troubling you?"
I
asked.

' "
I
need to know what happened.
I
need to be certain it is you." ' "Why,"
I
shrugged, "who else might
I
be?"

' "
I
cannot say." She smiled crookedly. "And yet
I
was certain, sweet Lovelace, certain you had died."

'
I
glanced at the ring she had placed back upon her finger. "Did you share that certainty with those you sent to find me?"

'Milady tossed back her hair, as though indignant at the question. "Of course not. For
I
have ever, as you know, been a loving mistress. Indeed, Lovelace, just consider - it would have been a greater cruelty to have kept them by my side. For they would then have sunk to utter lunacy - while as it was, their love had begun merely to fester."

'
I
smiled; then took her arm again, and this time began to lead her to the house. "Yet still, you might have spared yourself much heartache, and your lovers much wandering, if you had come with me at first upon
The Faithful Pilgrim."

'
I
felt Milady start. "You cannot believe," she whispered, "that
I
knew where you had gone."

'
I
frowned. "So Lightborn told me."

' "Then Lightborn lied. As he also lied to me."

'
I
halted, and turned to face her. "Why,"
I
asked slowly, "what had he said?"

' "That you would die unless we found fresh
mummia.
We had both agreed, we would only find the stuff in the Marquise's house. That was why
I
left for Mortlake the moment we had docked."

' "You would have done better,
I
think, to have looked in Lightborn's own trunk."
I
laughed. "Yet at least he was not such a villain as to deny the bottle to me. And he must have told you as well, upon your return, where it was that
I
had gone?"

' "He did not want me to find you. He would say only that you had left for a New World."

' "Indeed?"
I
murmured softly.
I
felt my belly; then reached up, without thinking, to touch the bag across my shoulder. "Then so far, at least,"
I
said, "he told you the truth."

'Milady's gaze had been following the movement of my hand. She glanced back at my stomach; then brushed it, very gently, with her fingertip. "How?" she whispered. She reached up suddenly for the bag; but
I
jerked it away from her, and took a step back. "How?" she said again. Her face seemed suddenly predatory and eager; and her stare as desperate as before in Prague, when she had first watched the secret book be read.
I
seized her wrists. "There will be time enough,"
I
whispered, "for all this business - for whatever it is you still seem to desire. But first, Milady" -
I
brushed her hand against my cheek - "we have other business to finish as well."

'She seemed almost to flinch, and
I
felt her stiffen. Then
I
kissed her brutally, crushing her lips, and seized her in my arms, hoping to squeeze the strange resistance from her. The tension in her body began to soften, and her kisses suddenly to grow as thirsty as before.
I
felt her teeth bite my lip; she licked at the blood and moaned, head tossed back, her burning eyes half-closed. She pressed harder against me, so that
I
staggered, and fell.
I
laughed, and seized her wrists again; then took her in my arms.
I
climbed the stairs and, on the passageway
at
their summit, found an open door which
I
passed through. There was no bed, but there were cushions spread across the floor, as Milady had always loved to have them, and a balcony open to the summer night.
I
laid Milady on the cushions by its edge. "No,"
I
heard her moan softly; then she kissed me again.
I
began to kiss her throat; then down, towards the perfect rounding of her breasts.
I
ripped her bodice open. Milady shuddered, as
I
pulled the dress down and eased it off her arms. Then
I
reached with my hand up her petticoats. At once, the muscles in her thighs seemed to stiffen again. "No," she said suddenly, "Lovelace, no, not yet." She sat up hurriedly; then pulled back her dress to conceal her naked breasts.

'Well, my Lord
...'
Lovelace snorted, then shrugged. 'What was
I
to think?
I
gazed at her, of course, in utter disbelief; and left my hands where they were upon the curve of her thighs. Then
I
asked her, very icily, what virtue she could possibly believe she still possessed. She made no answer, but laughed despairingly and shrugged her dainty shoulders. So
I
felt with my hands across her thighs some more; and then put it to her that it ill became a creature such as her, so ripened on blood and mortal sin, to be playing the prickteaser.'

'And what was her reply to such an eloquent appeal?'

'An insistence that
I
remove my hands at once from her thighs.'

'Did you obey her command?'

I
am always a gentleman, my Lord. But
I
did it with reluctance.' 'And then?'

'She reminded me of my promise, that all my new-found powers might be hers.
I
stared at her with even more bafflement than before. "As you wish it,"
I
nodded coldly. "For
I
,
Milady, choose to keep my vows."
I
seized her by the hair, and reached for my sack.
I
unfastened it; then held Milady's head close above it, that she might better see its contents. She breathed in deeply, then closed her eyes. "
I
have never smelt such a poisonous stench," she said at last. "What must
I
do? Suck upon its wounds?"

' "You can do nothing,"
I
answered her. "Its taste would be your death."

'She frowned. "
I
do not understand." "Tell me what you wish.
I
will then achieve it for you." ' "No." She smiled in a suddenly soft, despairing way. "No, that is not possible."

' "
I
assure you that if you want its power, it is not only possible but your only choice. Smell it again."
I
thrust the bag close against Milady's face, then described how the Redskin had almost died from its taste.

'Milady turned away, her face a blank wash of misery. For a long while she gazed out at the night; and
I
thought, watching the frozen profile of her face - and for all the frustration and the anger that
I
felt - how lovely she seemed, even in her wretchedness. Softly now,
I
reached out to touch her arm. "What is it?"
I
whispered. "What is it that you need?"