Resurrection (18 page)

"She didn't say that, though I don't suppose anyone really knows."

Ged thought he might know. He loathed what he'd done to Janey when he first met her and believed her to be a witch, though mercifully he'd come to his senses in time. Still, he was under no illusions about how deeply he'd scared her. She'd thought she was about to die. She'd been sure of it when she cowered at his feet and begged for her life. If she'd had the ability to shift, she would have done it then, to escape him. He was convinced of it.

It was as though a weight lifted from him. His little Janey was back with him. And she was here to stay. In which case, they had to make plans.

*****

It was already after eight o'clock in the morning. The days were short at this time of year, though that sort of suited Ged. The sky was streaked with reds and oranges when he ended his conversation with Serena, a sure sign of bad weather to come. He glanced at his phone again, this time the weather app on his home screen. Snow was forecast. He and Jane might be holed up here for a while if the weather really closed in. He had plenty of supplies so he would be fine. She, on the other hand, would require food. And she would be needing plenty of it, since he intended for her to expend a fair bit of energy.  

He had not eaten human food himself, not really, since around the mid eighteen hundreds. He didn't require it for a healthy diet, and he really couldn't be bothered. His entire culinary repertoire nowadays extended as far as making a pot of black coffee, opening a bottle of fine red wine, and defrosting bagged blood in his microwave. Which reminded him...

He retrieved a bag of A rhesus negative from his freezer—his preferred variation, though any type would do fine from a nutritional point of view, and shoved the clear plastic package into the small oven. Then he opened up his laptop and found Tesco online shopping. He wasn't sure what to buy, but given his limitations and Jane's absolute lack of twenty-first century kitchen skills, he went for a selection of heat and eat meals for one. He included several pizzas just to play safe, then he added milk to the list, some packs of cereals, bread and cheese as he knew those would be familiar to her, and as an afterthought a large bar of chocolate. He might try some of that himself, he'd heard it was very pleasant. He arranged for his purchases to be delivered later that day and hoped the weather held for a little while yet. Then he collected his blood from the microwave, snipped off the corner of the bag and poured the contents into a large wineglass.

Many vampires took the stuff straight from the bag, and Ged would too, happily, if he was feeding on the move. He'd always felt more civilised drinking from a glass though, so that was his preference when in his own home.

He considered downing his glass in one when he heard footsteps on the landing above and realised Jane was up and about. She would have to know soon enough, but perhaps he might... No, he decided. It might as well be now.

He regarded her as she descended the stairs. She paused, hesitant, at the foot. She was wearing her leggings from yesterday, and a new sweater. He could see at a glance that she had not yet mastered the art of underwear, and his cock twitched in gleeful appreciation. The half full glass remained on the table before him. She eyed it, and he saw when realisation dawned.

"I am disturbing you." She stepped back, clearly intending to afford him privacy to consume his blood alone.

"No, you aren't. Can I get you a coffee? Or tea perhaps? I have other food on order, but for now that's the best I can offer you. If you're starving, we could go out..."

"I am not hungry, thank you. But a drink would be pleasant."

Ged stood and went to switch on the electric kettle. Jane followed him, watching closely.

"Would you teach me how to use these items? It is not appropriate that you should perform services for me."

He turned and leaned on the counter, his arms folded. "I will teach you, but because you need to know how to look after yourself, not because I don't want to 'perform services' as you put it. This is a different age we're in. You submit to me in the bedroom, but in all else we're equal."

"But—"

"Believe me. I am right in this. So, you want to know how to make a cup of coffee?"

She nodded. "Yes, if you please, Sir."

He gave her a wry grin, but decided not to quibble about her choice of address. They had a lot of ground to cover. Instead, he reached for the jar of instant coffee, and showed her where he kept mugs and spoons.

Back at the kitchen table she wrapped her slender fingers around the steaming cup while he finished his own breakfast.

"I could not help but notice that you did not share the food last night. Do you prefer... this?"

He nodded. "It's all I need. Anything else I consume is by choice, rather than necessity."

"Did you...? I mean, who was this...?" She pointed at the now empty glass. "Where did you obtain this from?"

He would have laughed, but her anxious little face robbed the situation of any humour. She actually thought he'd gone out into the night and seized some hapless peasant whose lifeblood he could drain. Yet still she trusted him enough to share his home and his bed. Incredible.

He stood and beckoned her to follow him. He opened up the door of his freezer to reveal row upon row of neatly bagged blood, each plastic pack coated in a film of frost.

"What...? I do not understand."

"I feed on blood, preferably human. There's enough in here to last me for about four months. When my stocks get low I'll take delivery of more. It comes from blood banks, blood freely donated by humans to aid their own kind following injury or in some illnesses. There's more than enough to go around."

"People... give you this? They let you take their blood? Does it not harm them?"

He shook his head. "No, their bodies replace what's taken in a matter of hours. Do they give it to me? No, not really. They donate it for the benefit of other humans, and it's kept in the blood bank until needed. However, I, along with several other vampires, own most of the blood collection services, storage and research facilities in the world. We paid for the medical advances which made this possible, and now we reap our reward. We take the food we need, it harms no one, and the human population enjoys the benefit of the life-saving treatments this system makes possible. There's no longer any need to leap on innocent victims and tear out their throats, though I daresay there are some vampires who regret the passing of that tradition. It was a more exciting life back then, perhaps, but bloody dangerous. I prefer this."

Jane peered into the freezer, then reached out her hand. "May I touch?"

"Of course. It's cold though. We freeze the blood as soon as it's taken to keep it fresh and fit to drink."

She stroked the bag closest to her, then withdrew her hand, startled. "It
is
cold."

"I did say,” Ged grinned.

"How do you do this? I see no ice, and in any case, it is warm in this room. How does this not melt?"

"Ah, now it gets complicated. This cupboard you see here, remains at a very low temperature no matter how warm it is outside. It uses a fuel we make called electricity. The same fuel caused the kettle to heat up and boil the water to make your drink. It makes the lights work too, and even that little buzzing toy you so enjoyed last night."

She gaped at him, her jaw dropping. "Where do you keep this wonderful fuel? Is it very costly?"

"It is quite expensive, I suppose, but it does the job we need. We don't store it exactly, or at least, not here. I have a means of manufacturing as much as I need here at Roseworth." He closed the freezer door and pondered how he could possibly make her understand about solar electricity.

Ged ushered her back towards the table as they spoke. When they were both seated he reached for her hand. "Jane, you will need to learn about this. You will need to learn all about this place, this time, and our history, the events that happened between when you were last here and now. I can help, but you need a proper teacher as well. A private tutor, I suppose.”

"As my brothers had when they were young?"

"Exactly. You were well enough educated as befits a lady of the fifteenth century, but needlecraft and butter-making won't cut it here."

"You use such odd words. I do not understand what you are saying to me." He could see tears forming in her eyes, but surmised they were of frustration rather than sadness.

"There's that too. You will need to be able to understand what people are saying and doing in this time, not just me but all the others you'll meet. You’ll need to become familiar with our modern culture, our customs. I have some ideas about how we can manage that."

"Do you? How?"

"We'll go out. A lot, though mostly at night. We vampires struggle a bit with daylight. I want you to see everything, and enjoy yourself. And you can learn a lot by watching television too. I'll show you that in a moment. And you should read. Lots and lots of reading. Books, newspapers, magazines, the internet."

"I can read a little, enough to recognise my name on the sheet. And yours. I am not so sure about a book, though."

He paused, realigning his plans for her. How had he managed to overlook the simple fact that his lovely, accomplished bride was illiterate, or as near to it as didn't matter?

"Okay, we start with the basics. I'll find you a tutor who can teach you your letters, enough to read books and the rest. We’ll find someone who'll come here and provide you with the lessons you need. You'll be reading fluently in no time, then there'll be no limit to what you can learn. Believe me, Janey, you'll be fine."

"I know I shall. When can we start?”

"Here and now." He reached for the remote and switched on the television. Jane gasped, her expression one of utter incredulity at the sight of a bright yellow cartoon character called Homer riding on a pig and singing
The Star Spangled Banne
r
at the top of his voice. Ged sympathised with her bafflement and switched channels. "Ah, right. The local news. That's more like it."

Two weeks had passed since she opened her eyes, her body shivering with cold, her clothes dripping wet, in the pitch dark beside the Roseworth lake. For Jane they had been two eventful, glorious, incredible weeks. Weeks in which she had started to come to terms with the unimaginable turn her life had taken. Apart from rediscovering a husband who was fascinating, terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure, she was voracious in her pursuit of knowledge about this new and bewildering age in which she found herself.

She spent much of her time watching the wondrous screens which Ged seemed to have in every room and which sparkled with a limitless selection of entertainment and information. Much of what she watched was incomprehensible, but she was already starting to follow more of it. And the more she watched and listened to the dialogue, the more she became familiar with the lives and events which now surrounded her.

She could make her own drinks now, and could prepare food in the odd little electric oven which cooked things but never became hot, as long as Ged was on hand to explain the instructions for each item for her. She longed for the day she would be able to decipher for herself the writing she saw everywhere.

Ged had introduced her to a woman who would apparently teach her to read and write properly. Her lessons were to commence next week. Ged himself showed her how to make the item he called his laptop function, and he had promised her a similar device of her own as soon as she liked. He swore to her that any information she ever wanted to know, anything she cared to ask, any place she desired to see, would be found within that flat silver metal box. She no longer doubted him, though his words were fantastic indeed—all the knowledge of the entire world and beyond, at her fingertips.

She pondered this limitless possibility as she made her way across the frosty courtyard to the stables. Ged had explained to her that the items with just two wheels and which were also kept in the large outhouse along with the car they used for their trip to Edinburgh, were bikes. They used an engine to propel them forward, as did the car, but Ged claimed these two-wheeled carriages could travel even faster. She found that difficult to imagine but looked forward to trying them out. Meanwhile though, she preferred the occupant of the smaller structure next door.

Ged owned a horse. Cassius was a beautiful chestnut stallion and the similarity this animal bore to Hector, her husband’s great warhorse of the fifteenth century was not lost on Jane. However where Hector had been vicious and bad-tempered, Cassius was a magnificent beast with the temperament of a new born lamb. Though there was no physical resemblance at all, the personality of the huge horse put her in mind of her own beloved Cloud.

Jane had been wary of riding Cassius at first, but Ged convinced her to try. She had always been a competent horsewoman and found nothing much had changed. The twenty-first century saddle required her to sit astride, a most unfamiliar posture but one she readily accepted was far more practical than the sideways affair she was accustomed to. So, this bright winter's morning, she intended to ride Cassius across the surrounding countryside while her husband caught up with his business affairs in the safety and seclusion of his office.

Ged's discomfort in the sunlight concerned her, though he explained that whilst an excess of it would make him ill, the lack of sun would over time be injurious to her health. He insisted that humans required sunshine to thrive and that she must spend some of her time outdoors as the manner in which his home was constructed made the rooms appear perfectly light, but in reality the materials used to build it were able to exclude the harmful rays cast down by the weak winter sun. So, riding Cassius in the mornings might become a habit. She hoped so.

Jane saddled the horse quickly and was soon off, cantering across the meadow and up the moors which rose above. The landscape was sprinkled with a light dusting of snow which lent a glitter and sparkle to the vista. The sure-footed horse stepped out with confidence under her light but knowing direction and soon Jane was able to gaze down upon Roseworth from a vantage point high above the ruined castle. From up here she could clearly see the footprint left behind by the passing of those centuries, the outlines of long-gone buildings still etched into the earth. She had just to close her eyes and she could envision the bustle and fuss of that earlier age. She could hear the voices of the people she knew, now long dead, the clanging of swords as her husband trained his men in the bailey, the clatter of hooves, the calls of traders offering their wares for sale on market days. Then she opened her eyes to take in the still silence which was Roseworth now. The castle had known great upheaval, the most awesome turmoil, that much was evident. Ged had told her of a bitter civil war which had caused the near destruction of their home, but still the castle remained, constant and steadfast. In some ways, she mused, it was reborn, as she was.

Her husband was a wealthy man. He had not said so, but she knew it must be so. He had purchased the castle on a whim, then within the ruins he built the home they now inhabited. He owned businesses, investments across vast distances which he could manage from his office. He did not appear to labour hard, though his efforts bore fruit and he assured her there was no shortage of funds with which to pay for tutors, any clothing or other items she might desire. They had not been poor in the past of course, not in comparison to the peasants and serfs who worked the land, but as lady of the castle she had clearly understood it was her duty to watch the household expenditure with care. There appeared to be no such constraint now.

She lifted her gaze to the further distance where she could make out the rooftops of a town, perhaps ten or fifteen miles away. That was Alnwick, the site of another great castle where she had spent time as a girl. She had been astonished when Ged had showed her pictures on the screens she loved so well of those same turrets, but this time with youthful wizards flitting around them on broomsticks chasing a small metal ball. The game was called quidditch, and the story told of an apprentice wizard learning his craft. This was a bizarre world indeed, she reflected as she turned Cassius' head in the direction of home.

*****

"Ah, you're back at last." Ged seized her the moment she entered the kitchen and kissed her on the mouth. He was much more overtly affectionate in this time than ever he had been before. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

He patted her on the bottom as he broke the kiss. "You seem pleased to see me. That's good, because I have something for you."

"Oh?"

"I'll be needing you upstairs, Janey. Naked."

"Of course, Sir." She started to move towards the stairs.

"Not yet though. First, I need to talk to you. Take a seat. Tea?"

Jane paused and turned back. She perched on a seat at the table and watched as Ged made a pot of tea and brought it to where she sat. She was becoming very fond of this particular beverage, but would really have preferred to head straight up to the bedroom. Perhaps this conversation would not take long.

"Did you enjoy your ride?" He leaned over to pour her a cup of tea,

"Yes, Sir," she replied. "The day is clear, I could see as far as Alnwick."

"Would you like to go there? The castle's open to the public."

"The public? You mean, anyone can enter?" She looked up at him in surprise. This would not have occurred in her time—the Duke of Northumberland was most particular on that score.

He grinned at her. "Anyone with the price of a ticket. Do you mind if we wait for a day when there's no sun though as most of it's outdoors?"

"Of course, Sir. I would love to go there, whenever you wish it."

"We will. Soon. That's not what I wanted to talk about though. Do you remember I told you I sent your clothing to be tested?"

Jane nodded. She had mixed feelings about the investigations Ged seemed intent upon. It felt almost as though he did not trust her account of what had happened to her and he was seeking further proof. "Did your enquiries uncover new learning, Sir?"

"Yes and no. I got the results a few days ago."

"A few days? Why did you not tell me?"

"There was someone else I wanted to talk to first. Now I have."

"Who?"

"I'm coming to that. First though, the fabric of your shift and robe were carbon-dated and shown to be new. As in, less than ten years old."

Jane had no idea what he meant by carbon-dating, but she was clear on the general point. "But, that cannot be. They were the same clothes I wore many hundreds of years in the past. Those items are now old, very old."

"I do understand that, but think about it, Jane. If time stood still for you, then why would your clothes have aged? It's perfectly possible that the fabrics were fairly new when they came into your possession, and they still are."

"Oh. I see." She was not entirely sure she did, but at some level his words made sense. "So, you learned nothing new from this endeavour?"

"Not from your clothing. But there was another item, if you recall. You had a small, single candlestick in your hand when I found you."

"Did I? Yes, I suppose I might have. It was dark when I left the hall intending to seek you out after I spoke with Garrick. I do remember I used a candle to light my way. I still had it with me when I left the castle, though I do not recall what happened to it after that."

"Nothing happened to it. You still had it in your hand, I assume, when you fell into the water, and you didn't let go until you were back on dry land again."

She relaxed into a wry grin. "Fine candlesticks do not grow on trees, my lord—sorry—Ged. I would not have dropped it if I could help it."

"Well, your diligence has been rewarded. I sent that for testing too, and the results are interesting. In a nutshell, the composition of the metal, the proportion of copper to zinc, tin and lead to be exact, is peculiar to the fifteenth century, furthermore it's specific to this part of England. The expert who examined it was quite definite on that. The candlestick does date from the late fourteen hundreds."

"So, you believe me then? You believe that I have really come here from the past?"

"I always knew that
yo
u
believed you were Lady Jane Twyfford of Roseworth. I can get into your head, remember, and I did that right from the start. But this new evidence helps to back up what we know."

"But it does not help to explain
ho
w
it happened." She slumped in her chair, her bafflement familiar but no less frustrating for that.

"Maybe not. But, I've also learned of a woman who might be able to help us to understand that. Marta Roi is an expert on supernatural occurrences and she's made a study of time shifting incidents. That was who I wanted to speak to. According to her work, time travel is unusual, but not unheard of."

Now she sat bolt upright. "Could I speak with this Marta Roi?"

"You could. In fact, she wants to meet you."

"Then we should go to her. When can we leave?"

"It's not that simple. Her home is very distant from here, and quite remote. It would take some days to reach it and the journey would be arduous to say the least."

"Oh, but—"

"On the other hand, she could come here. She's willing to do that, and has asked if she might visit at some stage soon."

"I don't understand. How is it that she can travel to reach us but it would be too difficult for us to go to her?"

Ged's expression was one of amusement. "Let's just say, her mode of travel is somewhat unique. Shall I invite her over, then?"

"Yes. Yes, please do. I want to speak with her if she can help me to make sense of this, this..."

"Consider it done. So, have you finished your tea?"

She drained her cup. "Yes. It was most refreshing."

"Excellent. So now, I want you upstairs, naked. You have one minute."

"But—"

"Don't waste time, Janey. You really don't want to start this with a spanking."

He was quite right, naturally. She did not. Jane squealed and ran for the stairs.

*****

By the time Ged entered the bedroom Jane was kneeling at the foot of the bed in the manner taught to her by her husband. She did not raise her head as he passed her, though she followed his progress with her eyes as he moved about the room. At last he stood in front of her, his bare feet just a few inches from her knees.

"Look at me, girl."

Her stomach clenched, as did her pussy. She had not the slightest notion why his use of that word should affect her so, but it did. Moisture was already gathering and her inner thighs were damp. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze.

The corner of Ged's lip quirked. She thought he might smile, but he did not. He rarely did when in this mood. He was serious, stern, demanding, and utterly beautiful to her.

"Sir?"

He had something in his hand, small, metal items linked by a delicate chain. He dangled the item before her.

"Do you have any idea what these are, Jane?"

"No, Sir. But—they are pretty."

"I think so. They're yours. Your present."