The Secrets of Wolverton Manor (paranormal shifters and vampires) (Victorian Werewolves and Immortals) by Carina Wilder
Authors: Carina Wilder
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Chapter One : Edmund
The sun threatened to emerge over the top of the manor house even as Edmund made his mad dash for the servants’ entrance. He was in a full sprint now as he liked to make a competition of it, beating nature at her own game. But this was cutting it close, even for him. In a flurry of motion, he threw the door open, winning the race by mere inches. He laughed quietly to himself. “Not a thing to worry about,” he said under his breath.
“What’s that?” asked a rumbling, deep voice coming from the doorway to his right.
“It was nothing, Mr. Cameron,” Edmund replied, forcing his mind to return to the professional mindset of a member of the household staff. The butler, his superior, was not to be trifled with and however necessary Edmund’s night out had been, he had no excuse for returning so late and risking so much.
Mr. Cameron was old. He was in fact the senior member of the staff at three-hundred years of age, though he didn’t look a day over fifty. Like the rest of the under stairs dwellers he was a vampire, his mortality having been put to a stop soon after his fifty-first birthday.
“Well, Edmund,” he said, emerging from his room. As always, he was perfectly attired and pristinely presented, even at this early hour. “Are you sorted for today? There are to be two young men and two young women staying for a fortnight, remember.”
“Yes, sir. I’m to look after the young gentleman coming in. A Mr. Harrington, I believe it is.”
“Very good. See that everything is in order. Oh---have you seen Ida?”
“I haven’t, not this morning. I’m sure that she’s up with Lady Victoria.”
“Right, as well she should be. Off you go then.”
Edmund appeared to be all of twenty-three, and he was a handsome thing. He had high cheekbones and a tall, lean body. It was not at all uncommon for visiting ladies to eye him hungrily, even to hope to create a small scandal with him. The only hunger he had for them, on the other hand, was to do with the contents of their veins, and in this regard he managed to ignore them in favour of the greater good of the household. The gentleman visitors, on the other hand, interested him greatly in rather a more carnal sort of manner.
As he rushed down the hall, he nearly collided with Mrs. Jones, the housekeeper.
“ Edmund,” she said reproachfully, eyeing him, “you’ve been out in the sun.”
“No, I swear that I wasn’t. Not really. I got in just as it…”
“I don’t want to hear another word. No more of this…this racing against time. You put the entire staff at risk each time you do it. Honestly, such behaviour from the footman of a noble house. What would we do today if your skin were burned? What would his Lordship say? The very least you could do is make sure to use Mrs. Drake’s balm.”
“Yes, Mrs. Jones. I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones,” said the young-looking man, bowing his head contritely.
“Go on now, get to work,” she said. “This will be the busiest day we’ve had in some time.”
Edmund made his way into the kitchen, eager to grab a bite to eat before properly setting to work. His night of roaming had given him something of a human appetite, as it was wont to do, and after all, the guests were not to arrive for hours.
“Mrs. Drake, is there anything to eat?” he asked the voluptuous cook, who was in the process of gutting some sort of fowl.
“Ask Alice for a pastry. You missed breakfast, of course, you silly thing,” she said, her cheeks flushed more than any vampire’s had any business being. She had a soft spot for young Edmund.
“Alice, can you help a fellow out?” he asked, crossing the room to the young kitchen maid.
“There are some scones on the plate there, by the bowl of flour. Mind you only take one, now.”
“Thanks, you’re a good girl,” Edmund said, grabbing the largest of them. He sat leaning over the table as he ate it, not wanting to drop crumbs on his livery.
“Say, Mrs.
The sun threatened to emerge over the top of the manor house even as Edmund made his mad dash for the servants’ entrance. He was in a full sprint now as he liked to make a competition of it, beating nature at her own game. But this was cutting it close, even for him. In a flurry of motion, he threw the door open, winning the race by mere inches. He laughed quietly to himself. “Not a thing to worry about,” he said under his breath.
“What’s that?” asked a rumbling, deep voice coming from the doorway to his right.
“It was nothing, Mr. Cameron,” Edmund replied, forcing his mind to return to the professional mindset of a member of the household staff. The butler, his superior, was not to be trifled with and however necessary Edmund’s night out had been, he had no excuse for returning so late and risking so much.
Mr. Cameron was old. He was in fact the senior member of the staff at three-hundred years of age, though he didn’t look a day over fifty. Like the rest of the under stairs dwellers he was a vampire, his mortality having been put to a stop soon after his fifty-first birthday.
“Well, Edmund,” he said, emerging from his room. As always, he was perfectly attired and pristinely presented, even at this early hour. “Are you sorted for today? There are to be two young men and two young women staying for a fortnight, remember.”
“Yes, sir. I’m to look after the young gentleman coming in. A Mr. Harrington, I believe it is.”
“Very good. See that everything is in order. Oh---have you seen Ida?”
“I haven’t, not this morning. I’m sure that she’s up with Lady Victoria.”
“Right, as well she should be. Off you go then.”
Edmund appeared to be all of twenty-three, and he was a handsome thing. He had high cheekbones and a tall, lean body. It was not at all uncommon for visiting ladies to eye him hungrily, even to hope to create a small scandal with him. The only hunger he had for them, on the other hand, was to do with the contents of their veins, and in this regard he managed to ignore them in favour of the greater good of the household. The gentleman visitors, on the other hand, interested him greatly in rather a more carnal sort of manner.
As he rushed down the hall, he nearly collided with Mrs. Jones, the housekeeper.
“ Edmund,” she said reproachfully, eyeing him, “you’ve been out in the sun.”
“No, I swear that I wasn’t. Not really. I got in just as it…”
“I don’t want to hear another word. No more of this…this racing against time. You put the entire staff at risk each time you do it. Honestly, such behaviour from the footman of a noble house. What would we do today if your skin were burned? What would his Lordship say? The very least you could do is make sure to use Mrs. Drake’s balm.”
“Yes, Mrs. Jones. I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones,” said the young-looking man, bowing his head contritely.
“Go on now, get to work,” she said. “This will be the busiest day we’ve had in some time.”
Edmund made his way into the kitchen, eager to grab a bite to eat before properly setting to work. His night of roaming had given him something of a human appetite, as it was wont to do, and after all, the guests were not to arrive for hours.
“Mrs. Drake, is there anything to eat?” he asked the voluptuous cook, who was in the process of gutting some sort of fowl.
“Ask Alice for a pastry. You missed breakfast, of course, you silly thing,” she said, her cheeks flushed more than any vampire’s had any business being. She had a soft spot for young Edmund.
“Alice, can you help a fellow out?” he asked, crossing the room to the young kitchen maid.
“There are some scones on the plate there, by the bowl of flour. Mind you only take one, now.”
“Thanks, you’re a good girl,” Edmund said, grabbing the largest of them. He sat leaning over the table as he ate it, not wanting to drop crumbs on his livery.
“Say, Mrs.
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