I was Elizabeth

Authors Notes:

First of all I want to add a disclaimer…not that I feel I need one…but ya never know. So first of I own all of the characters if you want to borrow or post somewhere else, please ask me first!!!

Secondly I want to thank my reviewers…your support means so much to me. To Jen, you are the greatest gal. I will try to catch up with you later on. To Paris and Valvamcat thank you for your reviews! I hope to hear from more of my readers, and some more from Paris and Valvamcat…not to mention Jen. Please check out here stories under the author name JenKM1216.

So with out further hesitation here is the next chapter!!! Yeah!!!


Chapter 3
Problems Solved

The auction was a small success. The total amount, however, was only half of what the broker and I had estimated. This meant that I only had enough money to survive for two years. This did not include Maria’s wages, let alone the expense required to maintain the house. There was only one way I was going to be able to keep my home. I was going to have to take in a tenant.

While I faced this most difficult realization, my head buried in account notices and ledgers, the doorbell rang followed by the soft, hurried footsteps of Maria scuttling to the door. I remained as I was having given Maria the order that I was not to be disturbed. I seemed the social elite had taken me on as a charity case. They had begun to show up at all hours preaching about support and strength. Reality being they only wanted to feel better about being rich, as if helping me, in some small way, would ensure them all from God’s spite. I preferred to handle thing on my own and had become quite the recluse, refusing all visitors.

To my surprise, however, Maria knocked gently on the door startling me from my musings.

“Miss Vane?” She asked, her voice barely slipping through the heavy wood of the closed door. “A Mister Bathory is here. He is requesting a moment of your time. He says that it is urgent.”

I sighed and rubbed my temples. I did not want to see Dorian. Or rather, truth be told, I did not want Dorian to see me. I was ashamed of my current position, afraid of the odd emotions that seem to collide under his gaze. Mostly I was afraid he would think of me as the others did. I could not stand to see pity in his eyes. I felt such a look from him would only serve to destroy me. As if those earthen eyes cast down upon me would wreck the delicate wall I had so recently built up around me.

“He has come for the painting Maria.” I replied, my stress clear in the tones of my voice. “Could you not help him?”

“Yes Milady.” Maria responded, her own tones carrying a meaning of their own.

She had worried about me so. In the beginning she would announce each and every visitor. When I would respond in the negative she would sigh and attempt to force me out of my private library. She was never successful in her quest, and she eventually gave up. Yet, the worry never left her face, and she would smile sadly at me as she served my meals.

“Milady?” She spoke over another tentative knock.

“Yes Maria?”

“Master Bathory says he has business with the misses.” Here she paused as if waiting for a response, but as my lips parted to form my reply she spoke again. “He is right besides me ma’am. He says it is most important that he speak with you.”

I sighed yet again, the released oxygen being a mixture of both strain and resignation. Looking down I saw the enormous piles of paper that surrounded me and at once began bustling around attempting to put away my private papers.

“Very well Maria,” I started as I shoved papers, haphazardly, into drawer, “show him in.”

The door creaked open and the soft eyes of my most strange companion captured my own. My breath caught in my throat as the rest of this foreign delight slid past the doorjamb into my full vision.

Dorian was once again dressed in black, his hair free once again. It floated, in sheets of silken splendor, to rest just below his chin. One was hard-pressed to discern where the dark brown of his crowning glory ended and where his well-crafted ebony suit began. The very fibers themselves seem to capture the flame of my candles. It was as if darkness surrounded the very man himself; and for the very first time I noticed that his skin, though tinted with an olive tone, appeared pallid. His lips, though full, rosy, and so very inviting, seemed cold.

“I am so sorry to bother you again, sweet Elizabeth,” he began, his icy lips forming each syllable gracefully, “but I have encountered a small problem.”

“I am sorry to hear of your misfortune Mist…Dorian.” I corrected myself quickly, while trying to maintain a tone of indifference.

“Well to be quite frank, the owner of my current residence find my hours and disposition…” here Dorian crinkled his eyes as if deep in thought, “not to her liking. She has ordered me from the property, I must be out by no later than mid-morn the following day.” He sighed as if to add extra drama, and I found myself struggling to hold in a chuckle.

“How truly shocking my dear Dorian. Who would have though you a ruffian?” At this I allowed myself a small and nervous giggle. The whole while my mind began to spin, “Am I flirting?” I thought somewhat disgusted at myself.

“I am many things Elizabeth.” He whispered, his eyes focusing on some distant point that was not present in my own library. “However, that is of little importance just yet. My main concern is what this means for our transaction.”

“What do you mean Dorian?”

“Well, I simply cannot take the painting. For I’ve nowhere to put the beautiful portrait, no matter how dear it is to me. Besides, I must admit a small truth to you.”

“Go on.” My mind now totally focused on what was about to me revealed to me.

“I seemed to have under estimated the cost of my stay here. Perhaps I was just a bit careless with the money that I brought.” His eyes slowly rising to my own, “I’ve not the money on me to pay for a new abode. I have notified my brother and he has agreed to send me more…currency. What I am trying to say is..”

You need your payment for the painting back so you may find a replacement residence.” I finished for me, me heart sinking all the while. The truth was that I had already spent his money on fuel for the fire and some meats and other provisions.

“Indeed,” he cast his eyes downwards again, “I am so embarrassed to come to you with such a request.”

“You need not be, I can understand your situation perfectly…but I…” I paused, searching for the right way to tell him, “I am sure our mutual acquaintances have made my own situation apparent to you.”

“They have mentioned it, yes. I merely assumed they were simple exaggerating your plight.”

“No, they are not.” It was now my turn to cast down my eyes in shame. “It seems the only way I may be able to keep my house is to take on a tenant.”

“Perfect!!!” Dorian announced quite suddenly and with such glee, I could not help but feel hurt. Had I succeeded in my own confessions to insight the opposite response that I had feared. Was he elated by my troubles? Was he somewhat happy to hear of my sufferings? How would I tell this seemingly joyous soul that his only hope is already spent?

“Do you not see it sweet Elizabeth?” He questioned his eyes alight with a new fire. “I need a home, you a tenant. Take my initial payment as my boarding fee. I shall move my belongings in the morning!”

Without reply for me he strode out securing the door behind him. In all I could not complain, a more convenient answer I could not seek. It seemed my new tenant was to be Mister Dorian Bathory.

*AN*

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