The Hidden Mistress - An Erotica and Romance Paranormal/Historical Novelette (2 page)

When she arrived at the door, she adjusted her hair and her dress. Making a good impression now was important. If the corridor had not been so dim, she could have used one of the many mirrors along its walls to make sure she looked her best, but the gloom turned their surfaces into dark ovals.

Marie reached for the handle, but before she could touch it, the door swung inwards and revealed a young, very good-looking man in a white servant’s uniform. The man glanced at Marie, bowed and motioned for her to enter.

“Mademoiselle Marie DeCuir,” he called to the other people present into the room, then left and closed the door behind him.

*

The large hall was gloomier and less lavish than Marie expected. The walls were sparsely decorated, with only a few paintings to contrast the heavy gray stone. Underneath each painting stood full suits of plate armour mounted on low pedestals, although the armour was unpolished and dented, as if it had been worn in actual battles. On her left were the tall windows she had seen when she first had approached the castle. A light scent of roasted meat and fine wine hung in the air.

Marie took a step in and glanced up. From the ceiling hung a gigantic candelabrum that must have held at least a hundred candles, and their flickering light made shadows rush around the room like leaves of smoke. It was colder than what she had been prepared for; despite the fires blazing in two large hearths, a chill hung in the air as if a window was open.

But what the room lacked in atmosphere, it more than made up for in size. A few steps inside the doorway, Marie’s eyes adapted to the gloom and she realized how great the hall was. She almost stopped in surprise. One of the wings of her family’s mansion would fit inside the vast space. The arched ceiling from which the candelabrum hung was almost lost in shadow. On the walls were paintings, each canvas at least three metres tall.

Intimidated by the enormous room, Marie felt small and insignificant. Part of her wanted to leave to catch her breath, but she ordered her feet to keep moving. This was not a time to show weakness.

In the middle of the room stood a table lined with high-backed chairs. Bowls and trays laden with food, desserts and fruits filled much of the table, leaving room only for each guest’s plates and glasses. The table was long enough to sit at least twenty people, but in the vast empty space of the dining hall, it felt curiously small. Around the table sat four people, all of the watching Marie come closer.

A soft carpet that ran from the door to the table muted Marie’s footsteps, but they still sounded loud to her. If only her nerves would calm! This was by no means the first dinner she had attended, and while she was not yet used to go completely unaccompanied by friends or family, she usually was not anxious. No, the journey and the size of the room had left her jittery. That had to be it.

Ahead, the other guests had stood up to greet her. Calming her breathing, Marie straightened her back, crossed the last metres, and faced the baroness.

“Mademoiselle DeCuir.” The baroness smiled and nodded at Marie. “I am very pleased to welcome you to my residence,” she said, her voice warm. “Please join us.”

Marie barely remembered to curtsey. While she never before had met the baroness, those among Marie’s friends who had attended any of the baroness’s gatherings, and managed actually to glimpse the host, had described the baroness as a stately woman who was both imposing and charming. More than once, there had been a shade of awe in her friends’ voices, too.

Now Marie knew why.

More than a head taller than Marie, and with a bearing that put most queens to shame, the baroness had to have German or Scandinavian ancestry. Her hair, blonder even than Marie’s, was pinned up into an intricate knot and decorated with precious stones that matched her green sleeveless dress. While Marie did not know everything about fashion, she was sure that the cut was very modern. That surprised her; the murky and bleak environment had made her expect the baroness to be more old-fashioned.

But above all, the baroness was beautiful, in a fierce and hawk-like way. With high cheekbones – a clear hint at the woman’s bloodline, Marie was sure – and fair skin, it was easy to imagine her on a horse with a bow on one hand and a bird of prey on her other. The baroness’s strong arms added to the image, as did her eyes; wide, slightly almond shaped and dark blue. Marie felt an urge to look down, but that was impossible. Never before had she met someone so striking.

Still, while Marie could not help staring, the baroness’s smile was relaxed. Marie forced herself to calm down and focus. Then she turned to the other guests, and she felt her stomach freeze over.

Three other people were seated at the table. On the baroness’s right hand side were a man and a woman, both of them dressed in luxurious blue and green silk. Elderly and with dignified postures, they wore enough jewels to outshine most royalty, but they seemed stiff and distracted as they regarded Marie with neutral faces. Both their clothes and their airs suggested that they were married and that they thought of themselves as important. Political connections, Marie guessed. The cause for Marie’s sudden distress, however, was the woman who sat on the Countess’s left hand side.

Slim, pale and with hair as dark as the deepest shadows in the room, the woman’s gaze was cool as she studied Marie from under thin and perfect eyebrows. No, Marie thought a moment later; the woman’s expression was not cool – it was arctic, full of icy hostility.

The woman’s dress was an intense white, well cut and lined with small pearls. It went well with the woman’s beautiful face and her spotless skin. Her broad choker necklace was an intricate band of lace that must have cost a fortune. Guessing her age was difficult, but Marie hazarded that she was no more than twenty years old, if even that. A glittering diamond droplet that hung between her perfectly shaped breasts completed the image. If there were a queen of winter, this was her. And of course, next to the glaring woman was an empty chair; clearly, Marie was meant to sit next to her.

Marie began to sweat. Two ridiculously gorgeous women at the same table, both of them studying Marie with interest. This dinner would be part entertainment and part torture. The forces seemed to conspire to make her life interesting.

Just as Marie reached her chair, a servant Marie had not noticed glided up to her side and pulled out the chair. Marie sat down in what she hoped was a graceful manner.

“Let me introduce to you,” the baroness said. She gestured at the elderly couple and inclined her head. “This is Monsieur and Madame Chaubel,” she explained. “They have decided to grace my home with their presence on their journey to inspect properties in Montpellier.”

Marie smiled and nodded while doing her best not to grimace. Properties were for living in, not for trading. Hopefully, the discussions during this dinner would not only be about land and taxes.

“And this,” the baroness said and turned to the woman on Marie’s right, “is Sophie Lacroix, whom I had the pleasure to meet at a ball last year in Narbonne.”

“A splendid occasion,” Sophie replied. “Selected Merlot wines from every district, from Provence to Charente. A thousand lit candles suspended from candelabras in the grand hall. The dancing lasted well into the morning.”

As Sophie was speaking, two servants began to serve the entrée, a complicated knot of red meat and asparagus. Both servants were men and so handsome they were fit for a major stage production in a Paris theatre.

“That sounds marvellous,” Marie said, looking down as she listened. Sophie’s voice was quiet and light but slightly hoarse. To Marie’s irritation, it was also very attractive, especially coming from such faultless lips.

“However,” Sophie continued, “I am hoping to go to an even grander ball this fall. I’ve heard it’ll be an event of which all of France will speak. If fate wants me to go, of course.”  She glanced at Marie and then turned her eyes back to the baroness, who smiled back at both Sophie and Marie.

Marie frowned at her plate. Had there been a moment when Sophie sounded uncertain? It seemed as if Sophie had looked at the baroness for approval, but that made no sense.

“I am very pleased to meet you,” Marie said and gave each guest an appropriate nod. Apart from the baroness, this was a meeting of equals. There was no reason to feel inferior. Still, the host and the woman in white were enough to make Marie’s throat tight; unless she was careful, she would start to think about how their dresses outlined their bodies. And that would be disastrous.

“I trust that you’ve had a safe and enjoyable journey?” the Countess asked.

“Most pleasant,” Marie lied and cleared her throat. “And I must thank you for your hospitality. It is an honour to – ”

“The honour is mine,” the baroness interrupted gently. “Your family is renowned for its grand feasts. Many of my acquaintances speak of them. I can only hope to match the generosity.”

“And you are famous for the wine you produce,” said Sophie. “Superb chalets, year after year.” To Marie’s surprise, the woman flashed her a small smile, but it was difficult to know if it was genuine or sarcastic. Marie returned the smile and hoped she was not blushing; smiling made Sophie even more beautiful.

“That too,” the baroness agreed. “Was the bath to your approval?” she asked Marie.

Marie nodded. “It was excellent,” she said. “I must admit that I was very cold when I arrived,” she continued. “But I suppose the weather here is colder than in the lowlands.”

“There might be other reasons for the chill,” the man across the table said quietly, and his wife nodded in agreement.

“Some people,” Lady Chaubel suggested in a hushed voice, “say that the horrible weather in this region is because of a vampire.”

“Oh,” Marie said. “What a frightening idea.” She smiled politely and wondered if Madame Chaubel was as senseless as she appeared. If so, it was a wonder she could manage to put one foot in front of the other. No one believed in fairytales designed to frighten children.

During the short time Marie had been in the company of the other guests, she had come to realize something: Sophie was very interested in the baroness. In fact, she seemed
very
interested. All the signs were there for one who knew what to look for. Could it be that they had an affair?

That did not matter; Marie was not here to find her way into anyone’s bed. Even trying such a thing could generate rumours that saw Marie’s family disgraced for generations. Not that men and women of her standing did not share sheets with lovers of the same sex – on the contrary, that was very common – but such business was delicate and required caution. Making Anna tremble and moan was perfectly fine; in this place, one mistake could end in a catastrophe.

“What do you mean by ‘vampire’?” asked the baroness, looking both intrigued and amused. “As in a fanged demon?”

“Precisely,” said the Monsieur Chaubel.

“Roaming the countryside and upsetting the climate?” the baroness wondered. “Why on earth would a vampire do that?”

“Why indeed?” murmured Sophie and sipped from her wine.

“Marie, have you heard of these ideas before?” the baroness asked. “You do not look entirely surprised.”

“I’m afraid I have, my lady.” Marie leaned to one side to let a servant put food on her plate. “I understand that vampires are all the rage in Toulouse, and well as in many other towns.”

The baroness’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”

“Unless I’m wrong,” Marie said, “the whole of France talks of them. There is no end to the rumours. I’ve learned that one can purchase various items to use against them, too.”

“Surely not.” Sophie’s voice had a slight edge of sarcasm. “And what kind of wards and snake oils would that be?”

“I – don’t know,” Marie said. “Trinkets and herbs, I assume.”

But in fact, Marie knew quite a lot about these co-called protective means. While she was able to tell fact from fiction, many of her friends could not, and rumours abound. Vampires were discussed every night by thousands of women and men throughout the nation. Some of Marie’s own friends met in secrets locations to exchange wild stories and fabricated anecdotes. Items that were said to protect against vampires – crucifixes, small stakes and handkerchiefs lined with pieces of garlic – were collected and traded behind the backs of unsuspecting parents and older relatives. For some, it was an exciting hobby. To Marie it was uneducated nonsense.