A Short Romance (about a long romance)

A Short Romance (about a long romance)

Lady Sarah put down her cup of tea and pondered the meaning of her life. According to her father she shouldn’t be doing this. First of all she shouldn’t be using her brain (according to her father) and second (according to her father) her life had no meaning until she became a wife. That would be a wife to a man of her father’s choosing.

The first time she was engaged it was to George. They’d grown up together. The prospect of being George’s wife was exciting. They’d been friends forever. But he grew distant and then one day went away and came back a week later with a beautiful wife and a tiny newborn baby. The baby had been named Sarah.

The second man she had been engaged to was Percy. He was quite wealthy, good looking and said “Sarah, dear Sarah, I am enchanted by you.” They spent long hours walking and talking about all sorts of things that made Sarah use her brain. And when he kissed her (her father did not know) she wanted to use the rest of her body too. Unfortunately a month before the wedding Percy fell from a horse and was immediately killed.

Sarah thought she would die that day. She went into mourning and thought she’d never see the sunshine again.

Six months later Sarah’s father, against her wishes, her father arranged for her to be married to Jonathan, a young wealthy titled widow. His beautiful, rich and pregnant wife had thrown herself from a bridge one cold winter morning and sank down under the ice. It was horrible. But Sarah came to realize that it was a fate better than living with the abusive Jonathan. He already hinted at how Sarah had to change and conform to meet his standards. He told others how he would mould her and whip her into shape. The first time he slapped her and called her weak she said nothing. The second time she called off the engagement, telling her father that she’d rather jump off a bridge than marry a monster.

Now, two years later, she was engaged again. She remembered the night that awkward Sebastian was introduced to her. He was nice enough to look at – more than nice. But he was quiet, not the usual loud boisterous kind of man her father would bring around.

One day she’d seen Sebastian in the stable after a rain storm removing his wet clothing. Now at night she closed her eyes and imagined him in her bedroom, without the wet clothing and without the awkwardness.

One day Sarah was having afternoon tea with Sebastian – it was one of those rare times when they were alone. She looked at the young, rich, handsome, quiet man that she was going to marry and realized she hardly knew him.

“Have you always been so quiet?” She knew it was rude and improper but she had to ask.

“I’m, uh, not always so quiet dear Sarah. It seems as if this engagement was thrust upon us, this union, this contract… I have become so very fond of you. I will love you. I promise you that I will. I will adore you. You are everything I dreamed of. The fact that you ask me about my quiet nature shows you have an active mind. I like that. I’m not always so quiet. I promise you.”

I will love you. It was an odd thing to say. It was true, maybe. But he didn’t love her yet. He hardly knew her. She hardly knew him.

Sarah finished her tea, put on her coat and went out for a walk. She wished she was in the city right now. It would have been nice to see people.

In the morning fog she was a figure on the path. It was Sebastian. She ran to him and then took his face in her hands and kissed him.

He put his arms around her and kissed her again and again and again.

“We need to make it work. We’ll be happy. We won’t be strangers who live together for years. We will be friends and partners. You will be my equal. Our love will be true and strong,” he said to Sarah.

She looked into his eyes and wondered, “Who is this man?”

Sebastian put his forehead against Sarah’s and said, “I want to marry you Sarah. I see your independence, I see your spirit and your passion. Our parents think this is a good match. They see our union as good business. They also have given up on our prospects of marriage. I see this as a union of souls and of like minds. Sarah, marry me. Let me grow to love you with a passion that will last for a thousand years.”

They kissed again, and then he said, “But, I have a secret that even my family doesn’t know. Hear me out and if you don’t want to marry me feel free to leave and I will be gone from your life forever.”

Sarah listened and pondered the weirdness and then the reality of the secret. It could have been worse. So she decided at age 26 that her prospects were zero. She didn’t want to be a pathetic old maid to be pitied by others. She didn’t want to be married to a pompous ass or a man who didn’t understand her mind. It would mean a life of adventure and passion and risks. She was willing to do that. What did she have to lose?

Moth

Thinking back on those days Sarah had to smile. She was planning a special anniversary dinner. She and Sebastian would be celebrating their 200th wedding anniversary. What a special time November 1814 was for them! For you see, Sebastian was a Vampire. But I’m sure you’d already guessed that.

And yes, they did live happily ever after.

 

~ End

butterfly-clipart

First published in 2014.

I’m on the road right now but will be back soon with exciting new REAL LIFE adventures about life, traveling with adult children, art, beauty, parenting, history, love, vampires, and whatever else I happen to experience or observe. xoxo

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

Short Story Sunday: The Travelers – A Christmas Tale of Mystery, Love and Hope

The Travelers

A Christmas Story from Juliette Kings

The night was falling on the travelers, Daniel and his son Tad and daughter Ada. They had to stop before the nightfall and freezing snowfalls. They were finally going home from the dreams of gold to the city where Daniel had found a job in his profession of typesetter and reporter. When his wife had passed on he followed his dream to the California gold fields taking his teenage children with him.

They came upon a cabin, the door boarded up from the outside, the windows shuttered. It looked deserted and like shelter for the night. Dan and his son pried the nails off of the boards, which secured the door and went into the two-room structure. Inside was a cozy room with a fireplace, comfortable chairs and a wall full of books. Dan sent Tad out to bring in firewood.

Ada went to the bedroom and called her father. On the bed was a man, still as the night, cold and pale as the snow. In his arms, wrapped in blanket was a tiny girl in a red velvet hat, a scarf covered up most of her small face. She was also still and pale.

Ada’s heart sank. The poor souls in the bed looked to have passed on. But why were they trapped in the cabin? Had they been sick? Why were they not buried with a prayer and the proper respect? The man’s coat was obviously expensive and of the finest materials. His boots were of the most beautiful leather and style.  His face was handsome and refined. Ada took off her glove and touched the back of her hand to the man’s face. He was indeed cold as ice and still as death. She called in her father.

“I know this man.” He said. “A fine man. A poet. I heard him read when I was in San Francisco. What a tragic pity to find him here with his child.”

The looked upon the bodies of the father and child when they saw the slightest movement and the man opened his eyes.

“My daughter, please help her,” whispered the man on the bed.

Ada took the girl in her arms.  She weighed almost nothing. The child let out a sigh. Ada brought the girl into the other room and sat in a rocking chair by the fire Tad had built. The girl started to move and put her face against Ada’s warm neck. Ada soon fell asleep with dreams of flowers and all things good.

In the morning the poet and child were gone.

The travelers found box covered with red paper. In the box was a golden heart and a note to Ada.

Dearest Ada,

This heart belonged to my dear wife who was murdered by villains of the vilest kind. Please wear it knowing that you will always be loved and you will always be a part of us.

TK

On the table in the front room was a bounty of food. Where had it come from? There were fresh baked goods, milk and juice, exotic fruits, sausages and chocolates. Under small quilted cozies were pots with fragrant tea and coffee.

Daniel read the note aloud to his children.

My heart thanks you for your generosity.

You saved our lives.

You never questioned who had trapped us or hurt us.

You never judged us.

You never feared us.

The love between parent and his children is burned into your heart like the fires that burn in the heavenly stars.

My daughter and I will never forget you.

Your children and their children and their children will always be safe and watched over and kept from the harm of wicked men. I owe and promise you that.

Never fear the night or the darkness for we will always be watching your back.

Wishing you a Happy Christmas.

~ Thomas Kent

As the travelers ate they compared notes about sweet dreams that night along with stiff necks. They spoke of Mr. Kent and his precious daughter and wondered why they’d been trapped in the cabin.

Many many years later after a long and wonderful life full of romance and adventure, Ada fingered the heart, which she still wore. As she took her last breath she said, “I have never known fear, only love”.

An ocean away Thomas Kent felt an icy wind then hope and gratitude in his cold Vampire heart.

night with moon

Note from the author: This is the third time I’ve posted this story that is so dear to my heart. I hope you enjoyed it.  ~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

More from Short Story Sunday

Short Story Sunday is a regular feature on Vampiremaman.com.
Expect the unexpected … and a lot of fun! Click on the title to go to the story.

Dark Politics – A Short Story

A short story I wrote for this political season…

 

Dark Politics

by Juliette Kings aka Vampire Maman

 

 I’d dined with The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, alone. It had been a private affair with only the two of us. I’d acquired signatures, state secrets, just the right amount of English blood, and enough charm to last me a while. He came away from it feeling quite satisfied with himself, though a little pale.

Heading to my private quarters I was stopped cold in my tracks. There he was, at the end of the hall.

“Well, this is random.” I said to the familiar apparition.

“I have been waiting for you madam.”

“I never imagined you’d stoop so low as to be a ghost.”

He smiled. “I never imagined you’d stoop so low as to be president.”

I smiled back. “The first woman president. I bet you never thought you’d see that in your lifetime.”

“I’m dead my dear. Remember?” He laughed in a cold manner that made my breath turn to a cloud before my face. “I loved you.” He whispered.

“You used me.”

“You used me as well Madam.”

“So I did. But times have changed Mr. President.”

The ghost smiled and came close. “You amaze me Madam.  Never has there been a president so popular or successful. The economy is good. Unemployment is below 2%. We’re not in a war and our schools working. How do you manage it?”

I shrugged. “I love the American people. I love my country.”

The ghost laughed. “You don’t have to campaign with me dear.”

I had to smile. At one time we’d been so close. “Why did it take so long for you to show yourself?” I asked.

“The White House isn’t my usual haunt. If I’d known you’d be wearing that dress I would have come back sooner.”

“I’m not even wearing a corset.”

“Or a bustle. That is one reason I never gave women the vote, you do know that. Damned bustles looked so silly. Who could take a creature who wears one of those things seriously?”

A song blasted from my hand. The ghost looked startled. “My daughter just texted me.” I held up my phone. She was just down the hall but I’d promised I’d check in before I went to bed.

“How is she doing since…I’m so sorry.”

“She’s doing ok. Some days are hard, especially holidays and special events.” My husband had passed away during my first term of an unexpected illness. I would never admit it out loud but grief, combined with my dedication to the job, shot my ratings in the polls up to 97.4%.

I looked fondly upon my ghostly friend, a great man who was rarely remembered. One of the many forgotten 19th century presidents.  Just so many men with beards. What a shame.

“I wish I could hold you.” I said, remembering a time long ago when that was possible.

“I should have asked you turn me when you had a chance.” He said, standing so close I could feel him but not touch him.

Passing my hand through his heart I told him the truth. “You made a good president but you would have been a horrible vampire sir.”

“I suppose you’re right. Good night my dear”, he said with a gentle smile. “Be careful.”

I smiled. “I will, my darling. I will.”