Chapter Five

~ A Dark Request ~

            No sooner than Miss Serenity Goode stepped out of my front door on the day of her visit, the rain ceased to fall and the grayness washed away with clear blue skies.  I realize that I told her when this happened I would pay a visit to her Uncle, the Reverend Goode, and ask permission to court his niece. I think myself above having to do such a thing, yet it is her wish and I shall respect it.  However, time has passed with much contemplation on my part for reason of confusion.  While I already made up my mind to have Miss Goode as my own, I did not expect myself to have sped up the process of doing so.

            Usually I am a patient man- yes, I consider myself a man as any human male would, for it is my gender, just not my race anymore- but somehow this young woman has gotten under my skin.  She causes me to feel as a child on his birthing day awaiting a generous hill of gifts. I suppose I just did not want to wait any longer and so the words spilled from my lips before my brain had the chance to prevent it.  This is what puzzles me so- how can a woman as simple, yet as delectably beautiful as Serenity, make my mind cloudy?

            There is no doubt that I have the same effect on her, as is the way of my rare kind, for I can see her eyes shine with determination as she struggles to fight it.  My charm is not something to take lightly though I do not imagine I have to put it to much use with this young woman.  She seems to take to me very well, and I will not complain. 

            Perhaps it is the strength she hides in her seemingly frail body.  Her will to be heard, to dare to go against the times and to dream of things tabooed draws me to her.  Miss Goode speaks what she thinks at the appropriate moment, knows when to stop speaking, and her words hold meaning unlike others who hold nothing but air. I recognize these qualities even without spending time with her physically, even though our meetings have been few, for my eyes follow her always.

            I did not lie when last we met in saying my writing was cause for my week long absence, as I resolved to actually write my tale in the blank pages of my book.  I think one day I will show her the contents of the leather bound parchments because I can recall her eagerness in insisting I do once I am through with it. If it should so please Miss Goode, I would write a thousand such tales for her enjoyment.

            My breath catches momentarily and my head throbs as I think- the start of a headache for sure. Despite my fantastical race and the theories inside the few forbidden stories circling the lands, I am quite capable of getting a headache and catching illnesses.  Blood still flows in my veins and my skin is warm to the touch and so I find a headache quite irksome as any mortal human would. Such things have quite rude timing, too, showing up when important matters arise, making it all the more difficult to think clearly.

            It has been nearly another week since my tea with Miss Goode, which I had foreseen and so set out the extra cup and spoon, and I waste precious time dawdling in the foyer of my small abode. I suppose she grows anxious with each passing minute, hour or day and I hold not a single candle of blame to her. I have made her lie in wait while I roam Green Glen’s small perimeter consumed in my thoughts of her knowing full well it would make more sense to get it the deed over with.  We have scarcely spoken to one another and those were merely empty words exchanged in passing. 

            I recollect the sweetness of her herbal scent, familiarizing it with cinnamon and sweet pea buds, the shine of her ebony hair beneath a velvet blue bonnet, and the softness of her voice.  My conclusion is now that I cannot keep her waiting any longer, lest she changes her mind about me.  Her strong will would make it very trying to sway her mind if she should decide to refuse me. I reach for my best black jacket, buttoning the silver plated circles in place over a white ruffled shirt and brush the lint from the smooth fabric of my black slacks. My reflection is evident in the tops of my clean black boots- yes, I do have a reflection- and I deem myself fit to call upon Reverend Goode’s home.

            The wind caresses my face the moment I step outdoors, donning my favorite hat and then proceeding down the path to the clergyman’s small estate. It is a nice feeling, one I believe I may actually miss after returning to my manor, for the wind there brings nothing but a chill to one’s bones. To live so far North means learning to cope with the cool climate, though my gardens manage to adapt nicely, and so I must believe that people are able to do so as well.  For Serenity’s sake I hope it is true.

            Within moments I arrive to the Goode home, treading the narrow path to the familiar door crucified with a religious symbol and knock very lightly. How I despise those who pound upon the entrance as though the ground is falling away behind them.  Perhaps despise is too strong a word, but I do dislike being jolted from thought in such a way. While I realize they are not all the same, it is but another reminder of how inconsiderate humans are. 

            I do not stand long in front of the door before it is open and the kindly face of Reverend Goode is revealed to me. The elderly man steps aside, eyes alight, and extends an invitation inside.  While many theories of my race hold untruths, the certainty of being unable to walk inside one’s home without an invitation is not a lie.  An invitation usually brings with it my race’s desire to feast upon the homeowner’s blood; it also gives some sense of encouragement to the matter.  However, in this matter, I do not think of taking the life of Reverend Goode, or of anyone else living under his roof. My purpose is far greater this time around- though I shan’t admit that I’ve not taken advantage of invites in the past.

            Graciously, I pass the threshold, stepping past the reverend with a nod of my head and into the quaint environment of his home.

            Taking only a moment to look around, I can see that it is a warm home.  There are knick-knacks on the shelves, wooden carvings that I assume Reverend Goode completed himself, all nicely detailed. Small area rugs all too obviously home-woven compliment the furniture and all else is hardwood floor. The layout of his home is in exact to my own with the differences of furniture and religious symbols laced throughout the décor. I smile lightly and return my gaze to the elderly man.

            “I must say, Reverend, your home is quite cozy.”

            This small compliment seems to thrill him, eyes lighting up once again. “Oh, thank you kindly, Mister Dark- I try to humble myself but my home is the one thing I pride myself in.”

            “As you should,” I reply and pace round the small foyer, hands clasped behind my back.

            “May I ask what the matter of this visit is, Mister Dark?” The reverend inquires.

            I chuckle lightly. There is a tone in his voice that infers hope, and I can only believe his expectations have something to do with his radiant niece.

            “You may…” I stop and try to figure out just how to phrase my request. However, one might say I’ve done enough pondering over it as it were. “I’ve come in regards to your niece, Miss Serenity Goode.”

            Reverend Goode clapped his hands together once. “Ah, yes, Serenity. She speaks very highly of you, Mister Dark…what sort of regards do you have that concern her?”

            My smile falters a bit.  What is this nervousness that has snuck upon me? Ignoring it, I resume the conversation.

            “Miss Goode is a lovely young woman, Reverend, and she is smart and well spoken…I admit I’ve taken a strong liking to her. She visited once not too long ago to inquire of my health and I spoke to her briefly about courtship. It was her wishes for me to come and instead ask your permission before she made a decision.”

            “Yes,” the Reverend nods his agreement, “Serenity is a good girl. She would hate to upset anyone- she’s been this way since childhood.”

            Reverend Goode pauses a moment, wrinkled fingers tapping upon each other nervously. Yes, he is nervous- I can hear his heart pounding behind his ribs, the blood coursing through his feeble body with heightened speed.  What is making his pulse quicken with nerves, however, I am not all too sure of.  Naturally, I could pry into his thoughts, but I decide against it…the only one void of their privacy under this roof is my dear Serenity.

            As we speak, I can feel her moving about in another room completing daily chores-such a good girl.

            “Do you have no more to say on the matter, Reverend, or shall I continue to wait for your rejection or acceptance?” I prompt the elderly man politely.

            He laughs quietly, a chortle moving from his gut to his throat and then makes nearly no noise whilst his lips are parted.  “My apologies, friend, I seemed to have lost my train of thought for a half a moment.”

            “Quite alright,” I reply. It is alright. As people grow older and their winters begin to show prominently, I find their connection to reality begins to fade, as does their soundness of mind.  Fortunately for me, I may age without worrying of losing my youthful appearance or my wits.

            “Mister Dark, I have not known you as long as I should like to have,” Reverend Goode begins, though I am not at all worried by this beginning phrase, “however, I feel you are a well-off young man with many good intentions and great aspirations. I see the effect you have had upon my niece, and I shall certainly not stand in the way if you would like to court her.”

            My smile broadens as my hand moves to grasp his. I can feel his pulse through the thin and wrinkled soft skin of the thin hand.  I feel dear Reverend Goode has little time left on this earth, for a sickness wells within him that shall strike him down unexpectedly.  It is sad, but such is life for mere mortals.

            “Many thanks, Reverend Goode; I am very pleased to have your acceptance of this. Shall Miss Goode wish to write home of the matter?” I inquire simply out of curiosity. There has not been much mention of other family members, though I imagine this might be due to rare rendezvous’ with the young woman.

            The smile upon the man’s face falters. “She has not told you. I see. Well, Mister Dark,” his lips manage to pull up at the corners faintly, “I believe I shall leave that for her to discuss with you.”

            My first thought is that her family is deceased, yet jumping to that conclusion would not prove wise if I bring conversation raises the topic.  I bow my head in response.

            “Of course; I did not mean to pry, think of it as simple curiosity. Is it a subject to avoid?”

            “I would not say that, Mister Dark, yet I would wait for her to speak of it first. I am sure she shall tell you in due time. She is quite fond of you, but it is not my place to say, I suppose.” He chuckles and motions to the table. “Would you like to join us for tea? If I’m not mistaken, Serenity should be preparing some any time now.”

            He is correct in his assumption. A muffled clatter from the kitchen and my own senses alert me that my precious morsel has begun the afternoon ritual. While I am quite eager to see her face again, I find I’ve much to think about.

            “I am afraid I must decline the invitation, but I do thank you, Reverend, for taking time to speak with me. Please tell Serenity that I should like it if she met me atop the Hill tomorrow at Noon, if it isn’t any trouble.” 

            The Reverend nods in compliance, “Surely I shall, Mister Dark. Are you going home to think about your book’s next chapter?”

            I give him a tip of my hat, “Among other thoughts, yes. Good day, Reverend.” 

            As I move out the door and into the fresh air, I cannot help but speak indirectly to him. “Other thoughts that include your niece, dear Reverend Goode, and her future with me.”