Against a backdrop of undulating
green, as of some watery deep—the same color as her eyes—there
he saw the naked person of Lady Alexandra swaying with the gentle
grace of kelp in an ebb tide, her arms and hands inscribing hypnotic
figures, easing closer and closer, like a dream taking form before a
drowning man. He tried to fight off the vertigo, but his mind was
entangled in a soft, warm net, his thoughts cluttered and helpless
like silver fish in fine mesh, and instead of reacting in fear, he
marveled at the exotic character of her beauty and wondered how he
could ever have thought her other than beautiful. With her pear-sized
breasts and lovely legs, the long thighs delicately flexing, stems
supporting the bloom of her belly, she was a miracle to his eyes,
tinder to the fire of his senses. With every passing second, her
sensuality became more affecting. He could smell her sex. Her blood.
Her face was so near, he could no longer make out its shape. Her
crimson mouth opening, her pink tongue licking forth slowly like sea
life. And then it ended. All sensation, all feelings of intimacy and
wild blood sheared away. Stunned, unsteady, he found that she had
disengaged from the embrace and was standing several feet away,
watching him with an expression that while not devoid of calculation,
seemed also to embody a measure of both fondness and confusion.
“What
now?” she said in a small voice, appearing to be speaking less
to him than to her inner self. Then her features were tightened by a
resolute look, and she said in a firmer tone, “I believe I will
stay with you awhile. To assist you. But you must send that—”
She broke off, paused a second. “You must send your servant
away. This Giselle. Put her to some other use. I will not tolerate
her company.”
Beheim, still
wobbly, muttered something to the effect that he needed no
assistance.
“That may
be,” Alexandra said. “But you do need to be convinced
that the key I have given you is your best hope in all this. I will
stay with you until you have matured in that conviction. At the very
least, my presence will afford you added protection while you
continue your interviews.”
He could not
deny that, but was troubled by this sudden shift in her intentions.
“Why do you want to help me?”
“As I told
you, it is in my interests.”
“And
there’s nothing more?”
“Oh,
cousin!” she said, giving a lilt to the words that made them
seem to have the resonance of a quiet, wistful laugh. “There is
always something more.”
Chapter
Six
T he brooding quiet of Castle Banat had been overborne to some extent
by an atmosphere of emotional turbulence. Most of the Family were
keeping to their rooms, but a fair number had taken to prowling about
the upper levels and engaging in arguments, even brief scuffles;
their shouts and clatter echoed throughout, faint as the cries of
birds and the scuttlings of squirrels, but nonetheless startling to
hear in all that funereal hush. Among them were several men and women
whom Beheim intended to interview personally. He came to wonder if
their agitated movements might not disguise a desire to avoid being
interviewed, for had Alexandra not been with him, he would have had
the Devil’s own time in tracking them, and when he finally did
manage to beard them, they were none of them cooperative, but
presented either snarling or stony faces. Elaine Vandelore, whom they
found reading by candlelight in the servants’ pantry, hurled
her book at him and answered his questions in icy monosyllables.
Hermann Kuhl they discovered seated in an armchair in an abandoned
quarter of the castle; he responded to Beheim with haughty
indifference, interrupting his answers to give erotic instruction to
the female servant who knelt between his legs all the while. Georg
Mautner, occupied in a game room with Lupita Cascarin y Miron,
half-sister to the Lady Dolores, amused himself by skewering a mouse
with a dart and then favoring Beheim with a glance
green, as of some watery deep—the same color as her eyes—there
he saw the naked person of Lady Alexandra swaying with the gentle
grace of kelp in an ebb tide, her arms and hands inscribing hypnotic
figures, easing closer and closer, like a dream taking form before a
drowning man. He tried to fight off the vertigo, but his mind was
entangled in a soft, warm net, his thoughts cluttered and helpless
like silver fish in fine mesh, and instead of reacting in fear, he
marveled at the exotic character of her beauty and wondered how he
could ever have thought her other than beautiful. With her pear-sized
breasts and lovely legs, the long thighs delicately flexing, stems
supporting the bloom of her belly, she was a miracle to his eyes,
tinder to the fire of his senses. With every passing second, her
sensuality became more affecting. He could smell her sex. Her blood.
Her face was so near, he could no longer make out its shape. Her
crimson mouth opening, her pink tongue licking forth slowly like sea
life. And then it ended. All sensation, all feelings of intimacy and
wild blood sheared away. Stunned, unsteady, he found that she had
disengaged from the embrace and was standing several feet away,
watching him with an expression that while not devoid of calculation,
seemed also to embody a measure of both fondness and confusion.
“What
now?” she said in a small voice, appearing to be speaking less
to him than to her inner self. Then her features were tightened by a
resolute look, and she said in a firmer tone, “I believe I will
stay with you awhile. To assist you. But you must send that—”
She broke off, paused a second. “You must send your servant
away. This Giselle. Put her to some other use. I will not tolerate
her company.”
Beheim, still
wobbly, muttered something to the effect that he needed no
assistance.
“That may
be,” Alexandra said. “But you do need to be convinced
that the key I have given you is your best hope in all this. I will
stay with you until you have matured in that conviction. At the very
least, my presence will afford you added protection while you
continue your interviews.”
He could not
deny that, but was troubled by this sudden shift in her intentions.
“Why do you want to help me?”
“As I told
you, it is in my interests.”
“And
there’s nothing more?”
“Oh,
cousin!” she said, giving a lilt to the words that made them
seem to have the resonance of a quiet, wistful laugh. “There is
always something more.”
Chapter
Six
T he brooding quiet of Castle Banat had been overborne to some extent
by an atmosphere of emotional turbulence. Most of the Family were
keeping to their rooms, but a fair number had taken to prowling about
the upper levels and engaging in arguments, even brief scuffles;
their shouts and clatter echoed throughout, faint as the cries of
birds and the scuttlings of squirrels, but nonetheless startling to
hear in all that funereal hush. Among them were several men and women
whom Beheim intended to interview personally. He came to wonder if
their agitated movements might not disguise a desire to avoid being
interviewed, for had Alexandra not been with him, he would have had
the Devil’s own time in tracking them, and when he finally did
manage to beard them, they were none of them cooperative, but
presented either snarling or stony faces. Elaine Vandelore, whom they
found reading by candlelight in the servants’ pantry, hurled
her book at him and answered his questions in icy monosyllables.
Hermann Kuhl they discovered seated in an armchair in an abandoned
quarter of the castle; he responded to Beheim with haughty
indifference, interrupting his answers to give erotic instruction to
the female servant who knelt between his legs all the while. Georg
Mautner, occupied in a game room with Lupita Cascarin y Miron,
half-sister to the Lady Dolores, amused himself by skewering a mouse
with a dart and then favoring Beheim with a glance
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