|
|
Chapter 3
Buffy is getting a wee bit bolder and William is starting to wonder if he is
going mad!!!
Italics = thoughts
He sat silently at his desk.
It was back.
He could sense something watching him again and frankly, he was intrigued. The
initial and subsequent spine tingling terror had slowly faded to a small corner
of his mind and heart, still there but now overlaid with curiosity.
But, every time he turned to see if he could see what ever it was - his empty
room stared back at him.
Goosebumps covered his skin and the fine hairs on the back of his neck rose
under the burning gaze of whatever it was that was here in his rooms.
William reached for the snifter of brandy that he had brought upstairs with him
and took a sip, the fiery liquid slipped down his throat leaving a burning path
in it's wake. The dark amber liquid settled in his stomach and false warmth
filled his entire being.
William loosened his cravat and tossed it aside - in his sanctuary he knew it
was safe to be slightly more relaxed about his appearance. It was not as if he
had to worry about anyone seeing him.
William ruefully thought back over the last two weeks.
It had started with Hetty, their maid, who had asked to be released from her
contract. When Mama had pressed Ms Jenkins, the Housekeeper as to why, she had
been told that Hetty was too scared to tend to the bedrooms, claiming that there
was a presence in there that was not of this world.
Both Mama and the Ms Jenkins had agreed that Hetty should be released with a
good set of references - until recently she had been an exemplary maid and it
was unkind not to ensure that she were placed within a good household.
William, as the only male in the house, had not been included in these debates
over Hetty's placement and claims. This was because, Mama and Ms Jenkins were in
charge of the household and William had the utmost respect for Ms Jenkins, the
housekeeper who had been with them for over twenty years. He knew between the
two of them that order would be restored.
William stared pensively at the blank page of his journal, as it lay open on his
desk before him, wondering how to document what had been happening to him over
the last few weeks. He was hesitant to do record anything on paper, if he wrote
anything within the pages of his treasured tome, he would have to ensure that it
remained hidden. William wanted to write freely without worrying if he would be
carted off to Bedlam.
William ran his lean fingers through the tumbled curls of his hair; the restless
motions of his long fingers pushed the hair off his face. The stress of the last
fourteen days was etched around his full-lipped mouth and eyes. Resting his chin
on one hand, he reached for the brandy snifter with the free one and took a
restorative sip.
Turning his thoughts back to Hetty and her defection from their household,
William ruefully shook his head at the antics of the young woman and the
hysteria and carrying on that had been a prelude of her exit from the house. He
had offered no comment on Hetty's claims to his mother or the housekeeper, as he
suspected that she was indeed telling the truth. William was sure that there was
something in the house; indeed he suspected that whatever it was had followed
him out on two social engagements already.
The crackle of the fire and the hissing of the gaslights were the only noise in
the room as William sat there pondering over his life.
It had started the night he had returned from the Sutherland's party, his mind
filled with cherished memories of Cecily, the sweetest of girls, whom he had
been so taken with from the second she had appeared in society.
The evening had for once not been too much of a trial and he had managed instead
to spend the evening unmolested by his tormentors who, for once, had let him be.
William cherished the sweet glances he had managed to steal of his object of
adoration - he knew that Cecily was unable to return his intimate glances, but
secretly William was sure that she was of the same mind as he. That they were
meant to be!
It had been on his return from the party, his mind filled with the sweetest of
dreams and hopes for the future that William's life had changed. He had talked
with his mother and sat watching her sew for a short while, before Mama had
begun to cough and he had insisted that she retire for the night and rest.
The first tingles had occurred once he had entered his room. William had slipped
off his shoes and stockings and shrugged out of his coat before sinking tiredly
down at his Bureau Plat. He wanted to record all the wonderful moments of the
party and try to capture the essence of Cecily in a new poem. Pushing aside the
concern he felt for Mama and her health, William picked up his fountain pen and
then began to write
It was then that he had felt the first tug of awareness that there was something
in the room with him; he had dismissed it as a fanciful concoction created by
the punch he had imbibed that night and carried on with his writing. Interrupted
only by Hetty and her placing a bed warmer in his bed and turning down the
sheets. If he had realised at that point what was to come, maybe he wouldn't
have been so dismissive about it!
He had sat there writing and for a long while had been lost in the rapture of
his words. Dearest Cecily inspired him so much - he wanted to create the perfect
sonnet for her to celebrate her beauty, charm, wit and kindness of heart. And
yet, he couldn't. The words to capture her radiance failed him; frustrated yet
again at his perceived difficulties of expression he had given up, promising to
himself to try again in the morn.
He had laid down his pen and sighed deeply in frustration, and that was when
William had sensed it - a presence in the room with him. He had shaken off the
ridiculous thought and retired to bed.
*****
Over the following days, nothing out of the ordinary occurred and William
dismissed the one event as a foolish punch induced dream.
But then it had started up again with a vengeance and now it was not confined to
his rooms. William had pondered on calling for a priest to see if he could
cleanse the house - but had dismissed the idea as preposterous and dangerous for
his reputation. He was aware that in society he was regarded with askance,
considered an odd sort of fellow, always in the corner at parties writing in
that damned notebook of his. But William had no father to help him, to guide him
through the pitfalls of society life and so had turned instead to his mother for
love and encouragement - and that was the way he wanted it.
Just the two of them spending time together and enjoying each other's company.
He knew that asking his mother's opinion of calling a priest or even the barest
mention of the being that watched over him would terrify her. And he had no wish
to inflict even the barest smidgen of worry on his dearest mama - she was not a
strong woman and he worried that her health would falter even more if he exposed
her to his whimsical imaginings. So he had kept his own counsel and tried to
continue on as normally as he could.
At first it had been a feeling of being observed. However, to his frustration,
William had not been able to determine by whom or for what reasoning. He had
felt the prickle of attention often - it was getting stronger as the days and
nights progressed and frankly, he had been terrified out of his wits. It was not
normal - and he craved normalcy, but instead he was being haunted by something.
Even in those early terrifying days he was more concerned with outward
appearances and had not considered how unusual or even ridiculous it was that he
accepted the wraithlike presence without question.
Instead he had presented the same cheerful countenance to his household and
internally quaked with fear.
It had gotten worse when finally the being manifested itself. By this point he
had begun to read and research as many tomes on the subject as he could. And
sadly, most of them were rather appalling ghost stories. He had, however, found
one book of interest in a second hand book shop on Charing Cross road - within
it's musty pages he had discovered that there were some poor fools who believed
that ghosts, goblins, demons and vampires existed! He had tried to push aside
the author's fervent assertions of the reality of an underworld and read the
small passages dedicated to ghostly manifestations. All of which detailed a
terrifying series of incidents unlike anything he had experienced.
And then everything had changed.
The first time Hetty had started screaming William had been sitting with his
mother in the drawing room. He had risen to his feet in surprise and rushed out
of the room. The sight of Hetty ashen-faced and mumbling that the room had been
cold and that something had pulled at her skirts, greeted him! Ms Jenkins had
taken the frightened girl away and calmed her; William had followed the two
women and tried to overhear their hushed conversation.
All he had managed to glean was that it was located in his bedroom, where Hetty
had been changing the linens on his bed. Reassuring his mama that nothing was
wrong and that the girl had seen nothing but a spider, William had hastened
upstairs.
To be greeted with nothing.
He had stood in the doorway to his bedroom, puzzled and frustrated. Inhaling a
breath, he had sighed deeply and then stalled in shock. A chill ran down his
spine; he could smell vanilla. It filled him with a sense of anticipation and
delight. Leaning against the doorframe he had taken deep greedy breaths, trying
to absorb the scent into him for all eternity.
Over the days that followed, he had caught the whimsical scent often and had
thought nothing of it - he had been focussed on his ailing mother and secretly
mourning that he had missed several chances of seeing his radiant Cecily at
various parties, because he been tending to his Mama.
In the end a doctor had been called, and the decision had been made that if
there was no improvement soon, then Anne must go to a spa and under a doctor's
supervision begin a course of treatments to clear the flux that had invaded her
lungs. William had reluctantly agreed for he knew that Mother had to heal, but
he was afflicted with a great anguish that they would have to be parted - even
if it were for such a short time.
After the scent appeared, more events occurred which lead him to worry that he
had finally succumbed to the insanity that had carried off his maternal
grandmother. And to be honest, the ideas that he had been entertaining about
ghosts and whatnot he was almost sure that he was well on the road to lunacy!
The first time he had seen something had been when he was seated at his desk.
William had glanced up, aware of being observed and to his uttermost shock and
surprise, he had seen something out of the corner of his eye.
A flash of movement.
Something on his peripheral vision, which had flickered in and out in an
instant.
William remembered leaping up, a strangled scream died in his throat. He whirled
to face whatever was there and then slumped in relief, or was it disappointment
when there was nothing? - but his own shaken reflection staring back at him in
the overmantle mirror. He wanted to scream, but if he did then the entire
household would know that he was slowly becoming a lunatic with delusions of a
spirit haunting him. His trembling hand rose and he waved it around him - there
was nothing there - just the fading scent and a feeling.
That had been the first time and through the following days there had been more.
At first just a flicker and the ever present scent of vanilla, and then finally
the being had become more bold.
Which had lead to Hetty leaving - he had no idea whether or not she had been
entertaining foolish notions lead on by a delicate disposition, but if what the
hysterical maid had said was true- and secretly he had believed her- then there
truly was something to his imaginings.
Sadly now the little maid was gone - she had been the only other one who had
sensed his silent observer. Her reactions to his ‘haunting’ had reassured him
that he wasn't as mad as a March Hare - but now Hetty was gone, and he was left
alone.
********
Buffy knew that the 'guys in charge' would probably not approve but she didn't
care - she had to see him again.
There was innocence to pre-vampage William that drew her to him. The fall of his
curls into his eyes as he leant over scribbling madly into his journal. She knew
it was his journal cos she had snuck up behind him and peeped over his shoulder.
The temptation to touch the soft curly hair at the nape of his neck had been so
hard to resist. He was just so soft and fluffy all over! Nothing like the cocky
and abrasive vampire that she had fought against and then side by side over the
final years of her life. Buffy paused, 'wow, that was weird - I think that
was the first time I thought about being dead!'
The maid had begun to bug the crap outta her, with all the jumping around like a
cat on a hot tin roof. The massive crucifix and all the praying was kinda lame,
too! Buffy had tried to keep out of the short woman's way as best she could, but
several times she had moved too slowly and the housemaid had walked right
through her. Which was the weirdest feeling in the world! And then the screaming
would start.
In the end, she hadn’t been able to resist freakin’ the girl out! So she had
tried to touch her. The first few times her hand had floated through Hetty, and
then success!
Buffy had given the housemaid’s full skirt a gentle tug and then blew a cool
puff of air across the back of her neck. Buffy had immediately felt bad, the
poor girl had wigged out on a major scale and started yelling the house down.
Buffy had tried to calm her down with a touch and the poor woman had shrieked
like a banshee…
Guilt filled Buffy, when she realised that her silly games had lead to the woman
leaving.
But what had impressed her was how cute William’s mom had been – making sure
that Hetty got as good a job as she had now. ‘Wonder if I’ll be punished for
scaring Hetty…’ Buffy hoped not – she was counting on her Slayer record to
keep her in the good. The impish blonde ghost wanted to stay here and watch
William.
She had never expected this! Spike had told her he had always been bad – that
fateful night at the Bronze when she had paid him to tell her about the other
two Slayers. He had been all full of the ‘oh little girl, if only you knew’ and
Buffy had assumed he had been a serial killer or something before he died. Never
in her wildest imaginings had she dreamt that Spike was a nice guy. Okay, kinda
wet around the ears and a Momma’s boy – but he was a cutie.
None of her questions about Spike had been answered as of yet.
Except one.
William had a loving heart.
She could see this in the way he treated his mother and the adoring looks he had
given that bitchca Cecily, ‘who sooo totally didn’t deserve them!’
Chapter 4
And here's the meeting of William and his ghost!
Italics = thoughts
When she had first found her way to Sp…William, she had been curious – he had
been so different than what she had imagined. Unable to resist – she had drifted
back from the heavens and started to watch him.
It had been weird at first – no one saw her and she had felt so very alone,
scared even – she had lost almost everything from her life, family and friends
and now she felt like she had lost her identity as well. Here she was nothing –
just a massive cloud of energy and no identity and there was something about
William that made her wish that she had form and meaning; she wanted to talk to
him, get to know him and maybe understand why Spike had fought to save Dawn and
had fallen in love with a Slayer. And to be really airheady she wanted to talk
to him, if only just to hear the cute accent he had. He sounded like Giles and
nothing like Spike.
And so she followed him night and day.
And nuh uh, she wasn’t stalking him!
Buffy had followed William all the time and observed him. She wanted to
understand how Spike loved so deeply despite being a vampire, and Buffy could
see the seeds of that loving nature in the man that Spike had been before he had
met up with Dru and her fangs.
His interaction with others broke her heart. They mocked him to his face and
also behind his back. But William, the innocent that he was, didn’t realise the
cruelty of their remarks. The callous way they treated him gave Buffy had severe
flashbacks to High School; it reminded her of how Cordy and her minions had
treated others whom they felt were lower in the social pecking order. All of
them treated William with such disdain and cruelty that Buffy began to respect
the determined young man for going to these parties and laying himself open to
their barbs.
But she knew why he did it.
He only saw the good in people and nothing more.
Buffy had only been able to bear to go to two of the High Society balls that he
had been invited to – and watching sweet William being run down by all the
others had made her so mad, and in a surprising way very protective of him.
He was a gentle and naive man who wanted for nothing more than someone to return
his boundless love, and the witch Cecily, the one he had chosen was not worthy
of his love – she was beneath him! After those two nights of interminable hell
Buffy had stayed away – she wished she could get William to as well, but she had
no idea how to talk to him…
It was beginning to frustrate her immensely being near enough to see everything
he did and yet not be able to talk to him. Buffy had watched him with his Mom,
Anne, and realised the Spike had been a nurturer from before he was turned. It
had carried over when the demon had possessed him. Spike had then looked after
Dru for god knew how long and then in turn he had cared for all her own family.
This was a realisation that had surprised her – yeah, he may have said he was in
love with her, but Buffy realised now that he had also loved her Mom and Dawnie.
From what she could tell his mom was real sick, and William was so adorable with
her. The mother and son spent hours together talking to each other and enjoying
each other’s company. One time Buffy had found William reading a poem he had
written to his Mom, and then he had sat at her feet while she sang some old song
and it had been so sweet to see them like that. The affection they had for each
other was palpable – the way William had leant his head again her knee as she
sang to him had tugged at Buffy’s heart.
Slowly Buffy had experimented in trying to show herself and the best she had
managed was when Hetty had flipped out and left the house. So caught up in her
own struggle to become corporeal, Buffy didn’t see that William had started to
get a bit jumpy. She had noticed that he had started reading some freaky assed
books – nothing like the poetry books he usually poured over day and night. No,
these were books about ghosts – Buffy hadn’t really paid much attention to them
and figured it must have been some sort of Victorian fashion.
She did recognise a couple of the writers-- Wilkie Collins and Conan Doyle. They
had been stuffed into one of Giles bookcases – not that she had read them. At
the memory of Giles and his books, Buffy wondered how the others were doing
without her. She hoped that Dawn was being looked after and prayed that Dad
hadn’t turned up and taken Dawnie away.
“Oh god!” William’s voice dragged her away from her thoughts about her family
and friends. He staggered into the study, where Buffy had curled up in the
window seat and had been staring out of the window at the garden to the back of
the house.
There was a clink of glass on glass and she turned to peer at William. He stood
with his back to her and was pouring himself a glass of whisky. Buffy
straightened, surprised at him drinking so early in the day. Over the weeks that
she had watched him, the blonde girl had gotten to know his routine quite well
and also all his personal habits – and one thing stood out that was totally
different about William compared to Spike.
He was not a HUGE drinker. Unlike Spike…
Buffy watched as William drained the glass in one shot and then shuddered at the
taste.
“Master William, are you in there?” Ms Jenkins knocked and entered the room. She
bobbed a curtsey and then waited for William to speak. The room was silent,
except for the ticking of a grandfather clock that stood against the wall.
William stared sightlessly at the shelves filled with books, his face a picture
of despair. Buffy hesitantly took a step forward; her hand reached out to touch
him and then it dropped when she remembered that she couldn’t comfort him. His
shoulders slumped and there was a look of anguish on his face, unlike anything
she had ever seen on the gentle poet’s visage before.
‘Oh god! What’s happened?’ Buffy took a step forward and then paused, her
head cocked when she realised that William had angled his body to face her. ‘Had
he seen something?’
William felt a wave of concern for him rush through his entire being – it was
unlike anything he had ever felt before. He turned slightly towards the window,
something had moved and he was positive he had seen something out the corner of
his eye. When he turned there was nothing there, to his disappointment. But, he
sniffed slightly, yes, there was the scent that was so familiar to him now that
it’s presence was almost second nature to him.
His guardian Angel was here.
And he felt better for it…
In the past few days; William had gone from thinking he was being haunted to
deciding that whatever it was that was around him was his guardian angel. The
presence had never once done anything evil – well except for frightening Hetty
out of the house – but William suspected that it was more the maid’s decision
than anything else.
He had at first only sensed a presence, but as time had passed he had begun to
feel things. Concern, then compassion and finally companionship, something that
he had never felt from anyone but his dearest Mama. ‘Oh god, what am I going
to do…without Mother?’ His hearted ached in fear, the sight of the blood on
her lips when she had coughed delicately into her hankie had terrified him.
William had realised then that she has much sicker than she had lead him to
believe.
Buffy felt the sheer terror that poured of William and nearly stumbled over in
surprise – she heard what he was thinking! Buffy stared in shock at the grieving
man in front of her and then froze.
She had heard what he was thinking!
What the hell was going on? Nikki hadn’t said anything about a weird ass mind
meld – what the hell did Xander call them? Vulcan, that was it! Buffy was pulled
away from her mental rambling with the horrified realisation that William had
said ‘without Mother’. Buffy quailed at the saddening thought. Anne couldn’t be
dead. Not that lovely woman… What would William do without her? Before Buffy
could panic anymore, a man appeared in the study.
“Sir? I do understand that you are concerned, but as your mother’s physician, I
do recommend that she stays at the Spa and is allowed to rest and recover for at
least two weeks.”
William clenched his teeth and his jaw flexed in a way that made his sharp
cheekbones stand out in relief, a mannerism that was so evocative of Spike that
Buffy blinked in surprise. She sometimes forgot that this man standing before
her would become the vampire Spike, whose broken body she had last seen as she
threw herself from Glory’s tower.
“I know, I do apologise for my unseemly behaviour – however, I had not realised
the extent of my mother’s ailment. I do appreciate that she has to go, but
please understand that this is a shock to me!” William nodded his head at the
elderly man who had entered the room.
“Indeed William, but you and I have known each other since the day you were
born. And I assure you that I, and the exemplary staff at the Spa, will ensure
your mother’s return to health.”
William looked up over his gold-rimmed glasses; his pale blue eyes filled with
emotion and he took a deep breath. He nodded briefly, “thank you…”
“Ms Jenkins and I will withdraw and allow you a moment to gather yourself.” The
doctor pulled the housekeeper out and firmly shut the door.
William shivered, tears poured from his eyes and fell unchecked down his face.
Reaching for the decanter of whiskey he pulled out the glass stopper and drank
straight from the neck of the cut glass decanter. He glanced guilty over his
shoulder – worried that someone had witnessed his uncouth behaviour.
Buffy thanked whatever powers were watching over William and his Mom-- she
wasn’t dead! He had totally freaked her out when he had first come in, she
wished she could touch him just so she could slap him around the head!
William paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, his hand clasped behind
his back as he muttered under his breath. He knew that Mother had to go away to
recover her health, but he had too many social commitments and if he were to
miss any, then he would become even more of a social pariah, and then there was
Cecily…
Buffy moved closer to the object of her fascination and sighed.
William froze in his tracks. All thoughts of his mother and his social
reputation fled his shocked mind. He pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes –
no, she was still there. He stared in awe at the vision of beauty reflected in
the mirror. She was a goddess incarnate! He was filled with a delighted
amazement – she was real…and here in the room with him.
Unwilling to turn and face her, William continued to drink in her delicate
beauty. She was a tiny woman with long unbound hair that almost fell to her
slender waist. Her eyes were a mixture of green and hazel that dominated her
dainty face; their compassionate beauty filled his heart with an un-parrelled
joy. Her full lips were of the palest pink and her nose was a work of art in
itself. He raised a shaking hand to the mirror and with his fingers traced the
outline of her face.
“Who are you?” he whispered, his voice cracked with emotion and surprise. He had
known whatever was watching over him was an angel, but to be confronted with her
divine presence was another thing.
“Huh?” Buffy’s jaw dropped. He was touching her face in the mirror. “You can see
me?” She squeaked in shock.
“Indeed, never have I seen such a radiant angel such as yourself,” William
answered softly. The calm tenor of his voice belying his excitement and
surprise.
“If it is not too forward, may I know the name of the celestial being that has
been my constant companion over these last few weeks?” he added shyly.
Internally, William was berating himself for being so forward, but there was
something about this small woman that set him at ease and he instinctively knew
that she would not think ill of him for his uncouth ways.
“Bu…Elizabeth.” Buffy had no idea why she had given William her full name and
not the one everyone called her. But she felt it was better to be more formal
with the Victorian gentleman that was standing with his back to her and staring
at her reflection.
“Elizabeth…how enchanting…” William remembered his manners. No matter what this
radiant girl was, heavenly being or ghost he should not treat her so basely.
Taking a deep breath William turned to face the impish beauty that had appeared
in his home.
Buffy looked down and realised the for some reason she was corporeal and dressed
in a fancy Victorian dress, much like the ones she had seen the other women
wearing at the parties she had followed William too.
It was a confection of lace and silks in a dusty rose and the corset sucked. She
couldn’t breathe, what she didn’t get was why she was breathing if she was dead?
‘Must be habit – Spike used to…’ The mental image of Spike brought her
attention back to William.
Who was staring at her now!
Oh boy he was staring at her with Spike’s eyes…
Buffy shook herself – ‘those are Spike’s eyes dummy.’
“Are you okay?” William asked, he was unnerved at the way she was staring at
him. Most women would on glance at a gentleman and not stare in such a frankly
assessing way. He was intrigued.
Buffy smiled at the fuzzy way that William was looking at her. “I’m okay, what’s
happened to you Mom?”
“Oh!” William took a deep shuddering breath, reminded suddenly of her poor
Mother’s ill health. “She’s not doing too well, her health is weak..”
“I know,” Buffy replied softly. Compassion tinting her hazel eyes.
Before either of them could speak there was a rap at the door and Buffy jumped.
Before she could stop it she faded away.
“No! Wait please don’t leave!” William called out as the vision of heavenly
beauty vanished before his eyes.
Off to bed now - hope you enjoy the chapter!!!
|
![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}