Bloodlust

“Heavens! Charlotte! Are you alright?” her mother’s shrill voice caused her to panic a little. The girl closed her eyes and tried to calm her fluttery heartbeat.
“I’m fine, mother,” she responded assertively. “At least I will tell you I am.” It was clearly obvious that her words had had no affect once so ever on the frantic little woman. She sluggishly rose from her chair stationed in front of her cosmetic desk to embrace her mother, who was rapidly approaching from behind.
“Monsieur Devereux told me everything!” she tried to comfort
“Monsieur Devereux?” the girl questioned with concern, squinting her eyes a bit.
“Why yes, silly child,” her mother attempted to sound unmoved by her daughters blank face.
“I’m sorry. It must have slipped my mind.”
“Slipped your mind? Don’t you remember? He told me that the two of you shared a coach home. Good-looking young man. It’s a shame that you two were separated after the…well…the incident.”
“The incident” Charlotte thought out loud, looking off into space while stroking her lips with her index finger.
“Yes, that poor, detestable mutilation of the stage driver. They sent for the police right away. Thank God you weren’t hurt. I can’t believe that such a thi…” she trailed off, getting caught up in her own emotions.
“This Devereux fellow,” she interrupted the old woman’s chattering. “ How did he arrive here, at our house, when I was the only person the Wibert family managed to rescue on the road?” The girl certainly understood that the man must be an imposter, but she did not want to upset her already shaken mother.
“Oh,” she smiled. “He said that he lost you somewhere in the fog and managed to find another ride here. He wanted to make sure you were safe,” she looked relieved.
“Ah, of course. I remember now. How silly of me,” the girl lied. “Is he still here?”
“Why, I believe so. I asked him to wait in the foyer for you. I figured you would want to thank him yourself.”
Charlotte did not wait for her mother to accompany her down stairs, but instead rushed out of the spacious room, down the open spiral steps, and into the marble-floored foyer. Her eyes scanned ever corner and crevice, but she found no sign of life anywhere. She heard her mother crossing through the front room talking with one of the maids.
“He said he needed to leave and that he was truly sorry.” The maids broken speech echoed from the cathedral ceilings. “He said he would return soon at a better time. He thought that Charlotte might want some time to be alone.”
“That is a shame that he left so soon, but he is a courteous man nonetheless.” She heard her mother respond. “Thank you, Chantel. That will be all.” Charlotte saw the girl curtsy and return to her duties from the doorway.
She watched her mother enter the room and force a weak grin.
“Monsieur Devereux had to…”
“I heard,” she intercepted.
Her mother frowned then shot her an insincere smile. The woman was still wearing all of her ball apparel; pearls, Chinese silks, Parisian embroidery. All of it seemed pointless to her daughter and if not pointless then certainly uncomfortable.
“I think I will go to bed now, mother,” Charlotte sighed. “I have seen enough for one day.”
“By all means, do as you wish. You have had quite a night. I should go try to find your father. Heaven knows the first place I shall look is the Parlor.” The little old woman muttered with a hint of disappointment. “Good night my dear,” she embraced Charlotte, planting a light peck on her cheek before retreating as if nothing that night had ever occurred.
Lazily Charlotte tried to return to her room, but halted when a spontaneous urge overtook her.
“Mother!” she practically yelled. “What did Monsieur Devereux look like exactly? I can’t remember, since it was dark and everything.” She inquired earnestly.
“Oh!” her mother said relieved that her daughter’s yelling had not been serious. “Like I said, He was a nice-looking young man. He had dark hair. Really nice features, but the thing I remember the most was his crystal blue eyes. Astonishing really, almost inhuman looking. Well, darling, I’m off. Please try to get some sleep.” With that, she watched the visage of her mother turn into a dark silhouette as she scurried farther and farther down the gigantic corridor, all the while trying to suppress her fear that was burning inside her.