She looked up at him and gave him a sad smile, "At least there was no real love waisted." He looked at her in surprise and perhaps something else... hope?
She regarded him with distaste as she sat up against the head board. He wasn't much to look at, and he was far weaker than her. But he did satisfy her, and that was enough though she still couldn't wait to leave this town after the funeral tomorrow. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of having to prepare one of her own victims for burial. The other vampires would laugh to hear such a thing.
She went to get out of bed when she paused for a moment. Something didn't feel right... "Hello?" She softly called to the room, even though she knew there was no one else present outside of the mayor. But it certainly felt like there was. Harold stirred beside her and she directed her attention to him. "Sleep well?" He asked.
She was about to answer when a knock sounded from the door. "Hide!" She hissed at him. He proceeded to do so as she pulled on a dressing gown. "Just a moment!" She called to the door. When she saw him safely behind the dressing curtain she pulled open the door.
Jr stood bashfully before her as he saw her in her dressing gown. "I uh... Um... Brennan's body arrived..." He stammered.
Mary glared at him in impatience. "I'll be over soon, thank you for telling me," she slammed the door shut before he could reply. She couldn't wait for tomorrow when she'd finally be rid of that pesky musician she met that rainy night in Chicago.
Blanche sat on a park bench at dusk. It had been a long and stressful day working with Mary. Nothing had happened, but Brennan has asked her to act as though Blanche didn't suspect anything. Speaking of Brennan, she had not seen him since he left her in the barn. She wondered where he was; perhaps he had been watching over her as she worked.
It was a sobering experience washing his body. Even more sobering with Mary there. In fact, it was so sobering that Blanche found it hard not to burst out into fits of hysterical laughter. She never did have nerves of steel. If only her resolve could have been as strong as the boning in her corset.
She took a deep breath of relief and sneaked a flask out of her skirt's pocket. Mooney saw that she was stressed, though he didn't know why, and had given her the precious gift. Again she sighed in relief after she drank from it.
"Not very lady like to have a metal flask. It should be made of crystal," Brennan appeared in front of her and sat next to her on the bench. She nodded to him but chose to stay quiet. In silence they watched the people stroll by them in the small park. Mothers with prams, boys with their dogs, and men hurrying home to their families.
She glanced sideways at the spirit. "So, where were you today?" She asked. She noticed a look of discomfort on the ghost's face before he turned to her. "There's something you need to know, Blanche," funny, she didn't remember when he started calling her by her first name but it sounded so natural. "Your fiance is not being faithful to you."
It was so blunt and so sudden. She felt her heart tighten in her chest. "How do you know?" She asked, her voice shaking as she tried to keep control of herself. He looked down at her in pity, "I was watching Mary today," the hidden meaning of this sentence did not escape her.
"She is seducing him?" He nodded silently in reply. In one regard, she was devastated... but not destroyed oddly enough. She frowned in thought as the ghost anxiously watched her. She felt betrayed, yes, but only betrayal; she did not feel heart break. "I'm sorry, Blanche," the ghost whispered.
She looked up at him and gave him a sad smile, "At least there was no real love waisted." He looked at her in surprise and perhaps something else... hope? She went on to put his mind at ease, "We didn't love each other. It was to be a marriage of convenience. Yes, I feel betrayed. But I feel more pity than sorrow that he fell for such a devilish whore." Again the ghost looked surprised, this time at her language. "What?" She asked. "That's what she is, isn't she?"
The ghost quietly chuckled at the woman next to him. So delicate, yet so strong; the true paradox of many victorian women. They looked at each other for a while longer before he was distracted by a young girl running by. "That's her!"
Blanche quickly followed his gaze to the girl skipping across the green grass, "The one who can see you?" He nodded quickly. "Wait here," she said as she rose up from the bench. The ghost watched as she crossed the lawn to the girl and started whispering to the child. Heavens, how he hoped the plan would work.
A/N: Thank you to all who are reading, and even more thanks to those who are reviewing! This story is done and waiting to be posted and there are already the first two chapters of a sequel written. Would you like a sequel? Let me know in a review!