The Ghost of Cornagaugh

Jameson Cornish is back… almost

By Atonia

(Author’s note:  I’ve written a lot about Jameson’s style and the music he created. His music is based on French composer, Erik Satie’s compositions and most especially his  Gnossienne No. 1 thru 6. Google them up if you want to know the sad, melancholy, haunting sound he makes. I have downloaded a recording by  Katia and Marielle Labeque of his music)

Chapter 1

Marrying William Cornith, 300 year old vampire, had been the easiest thing in the world for Jane Simmons. She was now Jane Cornith, Mrs. William Cornith. A private evening ceremony at Cornagaugh had sealed her fate.  She was deliriously happy.

Old Bill had given her away with some reluctance. William was a gentleman but the more time he spent around him the more he noticed things. Like for instance he did not take a drink of the champagne handed to him at their wedding. In fact, he’d never seen the man drink anything or eat, for that matter. Before they married, Jane had not invited him to dinner as he thought she should have. William’s true nature would have been a shock to him and in fact it never occurred to him that William was anything but human.

Jane was now mistress of Cornagaugh but she still found time to ride over to the farm and see to things there. Often she would come around lunch time and share a meal with Old Bill and Mrs. Abrams, who was naturally curious about life at Cornagaugh. She’d been present at the wedding but had not been invited back.

Old Bill still thought of her as somebody he needed to look out for. It had taken him some time to get over the fact that he wasn’t asked to go to Cornagaugh with her. As far as he knew the only one they had over there was Morvan, a strange sort of fellow, who moved around silently but kept the house in order.

Jane had to get used to staying up most of the night and sleeping late in the mornings. Usually by 4:00 am she was ready for bed. William would join her and lie with her until she was asleep. He taught her how to make love and so far had restrained himself from taking her blood. Often she would rouse after he left her and would lie curled under the covers, listening to the faint sound of the piano and sometimes his violin.

She loved him passionately, enough that she was able to block out his early evening hunts. He never came to her until after he’d been out. He was flushed and beautiful then. She was totally under his spell. He sat with her while she had her dinner prepared by Morvan. He would then play for her for awhile and they would talk about her day. He was interested in everything she did, especially when he wasn’t there.

She returned early one afternoon after a visit to the farm.  Before she opened the door she heard the piano in the music room. It couldn’t be William playing for he was in his crypt until dusk. She came to doorway. A trick of the light?

She could see a faint outline of a man at the keyboard. It was Jameson, of course. William said his spirit was there and both of them had witnessed the keys moving on their own. This was the first time she’d actually seen a figure playing those keys. William told her about Jameson, about his life and his death in a ray of sunshine.

Alone in the house during the day, she’d often felt a presence and assumed it was Jameson. There was nothing threatening about him. She glanced up at his portrait.

“That was painted in France. William had it commissioned.”

She turned to the piano. The voice was in her head and not coming from the specter on the piano stool.

“It’s a beautiful likeness,” she replied aloud.

“I was twenty-three at the time. That was the only one we accepted.”

“There are more?”

“Only one that I’m aware of. William said that one captured me perfectly. The artist wanted to paint me as some scantily-clad god.”

“Did you pose as a scantily-clad god?” she asked with a little smile.

“No, I did not.”

She looked again at the portrait of the young man who’d been so much a part of William’s life. “He loved you.”

“I loved him.”

“I’m rather ignorant of man love.”

“It was not like that. William would never have allowed that to happen. Vampire love is different. You will know someday what it’s like.”

She moved slowly toward the piano. “I’m glad you’re finally communicating with me. I knew you were here.”

“I’m finding myself.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked up at her, pale and nearly transparent except for his eyes, which were a glittering turquoise. “For a long time I was nothing, after my death. I attached myself to William and he came here. But he went into his crypt and again I was nothing. Something is happening to me.”

“Have you revealed yourself to William?”

He laughed a little. “Long before you.”

“I can’t imagine what you must be going through. I love your music. It’s very passionate and hauntingly melancholy.  William plays it and sometimes it makes me cry.”

“You understand it. Many people didn’t. They didn’t know what to make of me. I was different.”

“But in a good way. It’s widely played now.”

“If you know my music then you know me and heaven, who still watches over you, help you.”

“Why do you say that?”

He didn’t answer her.

“I may know something about you but I’ll never know you as William did. I’m glad you’re here.” She placed a hand on top of the piano. It vibrated and felt alive under her palm as he played. “Are you glad I’m here, that I married William?”

“I am glad you are with him. He was never one to be alone. He has need of female company, human company.”

“And you did not?”

“Not as he did. Humans were a source of blood. I liked them from a distance…from the stage.”

“But you were half human, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know what I was before William made me a vampire.”

She looked into his eyes for a moment before dropping hers. That was the source of his torture…now she knew. It came across in his early music quite strongly, almost violently, clashing about like a raging sea in a storm. Very unlike what he was presently playing.

“Were you here when I first started coming here?”

“Yes, in some form I was. You were a very fanciful female…to fall in love with a portrait.”

“I admit I did. I wanted him to be real. I wanted you to be real, too, to talk as we are now. Do you still think me fanciful?”

“No, not so much.” He stopped playing. “You’re very real and good in your thinking. You accept things as they are without fear.”

She ran her fingers over the piano and walked away from it. “If I were a fearful sort of woman I would never have married a vampire. I came into this marriage with my eyes open. He explained what he was in a most gruesome way. Still I did not flee. I love him as he is.”

“He has seduced you.”

“If he has then I am his willing victim. I know he has certain powers of seduction but I don’t think he has used them on me. I think I’d know. He didn’t have to I was all over him from the beginning.  I never thought I’d marry because the men I’ve met didn’t do a thing for me. William was different.”

“He isn’t a man. He’s a vampire.”

“He’s more than I ever hoped for.” She turned around and looked at him. Out of the direct light, his transparency was less apparent; either that or he was becoming more solid. “And so are you, Jameson. I’m very honored to meet you at last.”

He bowed his head slightly.

“It gets lonely here during the day when the weather is bad and I can’t go out. There is little for me to do.”

“You long for human companionship.”

“If I did, I could have it. Old Bill is ready to move over here anytime. I won’t allow it because he would soon know something was different here. William is my secret and now so are you.”

“How do you categorize me as your secret?”

“William said you were a spirit, but spirits don’t have shape and form. I don’t know, Jameson, perhaps you are a ghost.”

He smiled and tilted his head. “A ghost, ha, ha, a shadow of my former self. To this end have I come?”

“It could be worse.”

“Yes, and it has been.  Still…I am me and woe to you, Mrs. Cornith. I am not so easy to live with.”

“Well, we shall see, won’t we?”

Chapter 2

William was overjoyed that Jameson had finally taken form. He’d been conversing with him in his mind but now he was before him, not quite solid but he could see him. He could watch the expressions change on his face from boredom to joy when speaking of some past memory.

“Do you remember the time in Paris when you took me to the chateau? I wasn’t made then, still only half,” this to Jane. “In the dungeons of the place was a hotel for vampires with assorted tombs and caskets set about.”

“Oh, my! Did you sleep in them?”

“I didn’t but William did.”

“I remember it well, Jameson. Quite a decadent month we spent there. I had to drag you away.”

“He was a terrible taskmaster. I worked so hard and deserved a break.”

“And so you had one, but that wasn’t why we went to Paris. He published his first work there.”

“You taught me to write my own music. Ah…we had but such a short time. It could have been eternity if I hadn’t been so stupid. Did he tell you, Jane? I was working on a composition and writing it down as I went and so it took me forever. It had to be just…perfect. I wrote it for William. The candle burned out and I went over it one last time and then realized how late it had gotten. I never slept in a crypt; I had my rooms upstairs with the windows blacked out. We never thought about the window on the landing, never thought to be up at that time of sun.”

“You see, Jane, he was rather an odd sort. He could stand more sunlight than I ever could. But you were changing, Jameson. You were becoming a true vampire.”

“It took me long enough to get to that place and then…”

“How very sad.” Jane bit her lip.

“I should have stopped that nonsense about your rooms.”

“No, no, William, I couldn’t have borne it. I never died as you did.”

“But you did, Jameson. Right here in this room is where I made you a vampire. It’s true you didn’t sicken as I did and go underground in the churchyard. But, die you did. I think it took you awhile to realize the body you knew was actually dead.

“He was thirsting and asked for water and indeed he drank water for a few days but what his new form wanted was blood.”

“You gave it to me, let me drink from you.”

William glanced at Jane. “There is no need to go into details.”

“Why? There are no secrets between the three of us. Jane keeps those for her human friends. She knows some of it and that cannot not occur again.”

It was a painful admission for Jameson to make and he became silent.

William looked into the fire and sadness settled about him.

Jane wanted to comfort both of them but did not know how. “I’m very sorry for both of you, that it’s come to this. But you are with us again, Jameson.”

“Yes,” he said softly.

“There is something you need to understand about Jameson, Jane. He has never been without me except for three years when I left him to stand on his own and become what he would. He became more than I ever dreamed.”

“William has been my father and my mother…and more. There came a time when I couldn’t play and I could no longer go on without him. I alienated everyone who cared for me. Yes, I did have human friends and lovers.”

“He is your child, William. That relationship never goes away.”

“Before the end came, he and I had not been father and son for some time. We were equals.”

“You were the strong one,” Jameson said.

William looked at him in his new form with half-lidded eyes. “And you were the light of my dark world.”

Jane took a breath, “I think it’s time I went to bed. I’m half and half, too, half nights and half days.”

“I’ll come with you.” William rose with her, leaving Jameson alone in the great hall.

Up in their room Jane was unbuttoning her shirtwaist. “Were you and Jameson lovers?”

“Not the way you think, Jane.” He came over and helped her with her buttons. “I’ve always loved him. I loved him as a child, as a young man trying to grow up and cope with what he was. I also loved him as a man. Lovers? In a way I suppose we were as vampires do love another.”

“How do vampires love each other? Is there a different physical act?”

“We suck each other’s blood. Is that what you wanted to know?”

“I suppose so. You’ve never bitten me.”

“No, for if I start I will not stop and your end will come sooner than I wish. I do not want to see you sicken and die. When the time comes, I will make you and we will be together forever.”

“I like the sound of that. How many vampires have you made?”

“In 300 years…only two. I made Morvan out of necessity and I made Jameson out of love, as I will you.”

“That makes me feel very special.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“You are very special. Vampires don’t usually marry. I married you because I couldn’t bear to be without you. I love you, Jane.” He kissed her and picked her up, carrying her to the bed. He did love her and loved her with a deeper feeling than he’d ever felt for a woman before. It was hard for him to discipline himself not to bite her. She lay beneath him with her neck exposed. He could see the vein through her skin and smell her blood. Instead he took her mouth, thrusting his tongue into her warm sweetness.

Jameson was picking something out in half time. “You’re a fool, William. You keep her here and play with her like a cat with a fat mouse.”

“You were the one who said I should marry her and make her.”

“But you haven’t made her. What are you waiting for? It’s the human woman that you love. Are you afraid of what she will become, that you won’t feel the same for her?”

“I will always love her, Jameson.”

“Hmm, but she will not be warm and smell of blood. I know how you love that.  You once told me there was nothing sweeter than a woman’s blood. Yet…you do not taste her.”

“She is not ready for the end. If I do take her blood I will not be able to deny myself each time I take her. She will become sick and weak over time. Her people over at the farm would inquire and send for a doctor. I would not be able to care for her during the daylight hours. The doctor is a fine man. I’ve met him. He is also an intelligent man and he would know once he saw the marks on her neck what illness she would have. No, Jameson, it will be a onetime thing.”

“I see you have given it much thought. You are a stronger man than me. I would have had her.”

“Yes, I know you would have. She is not yours to have.”

“I can’t have anything, not even you. I desire no blood. I do desire you.” He crashed his fingers on the keys. “What have I become? What is this thing that I am?”

“I do not know the answer to that, Jameson.”

“Better that I should have stayed in nothingness, a dark void without sight or sound. That’s where I was while you were sleeping away a century.”

William left the fire and walked over to the piano stool, placing a hand on Jameson’s hand. “You are cold. Can you feel me?”

“Yes.”

“You are not quite solid because I can see through you. We will wait and see what develops. There are people in London of whom I could ask such questions.”

“Jane said I might be a ghost.”

“We will see. Give it some time and if there is a way I can help you, I will.”

Jameson turned his hand over. “Can you feel me?”

“Yes, I feel your cold fingers.”

He stood up. “Then you will feel my cold lips.” Jameson kissed him.

Chapter 3

When Jane rose the next morning around 11:00 it was to the sound of the piano. She dressed and went down the stairs. Morvan left her coffee made and only to be warmed. Under a cloth were two ham rolls. She smiled, thinking of him preparing food he’d never consume. He was happy to have her to wait on and so she did not mind it.

She took her warmed coffee to the music room. Again she was struck by his beauty and his talent. He was playing something very softly and slowly. She hesitated by the doorway, not wanting to disturb him.

“You may come in.” Jameson didn’t look in her direction.

“I didn’t want to disturb you. That’s lovely to wake up to.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, like the continuation of a pleasant dream.”

He smiled and looked at her. “You are very perceptive.”

“You’ve played that before on the day William asked me to marry him.”

“You asked him. It’s a variation on William’s theme.” He played for a while and looked up at her. “Do you really want to become a vampire?”

“Oh, well, it’s the only way I can stay with him.”

“Do you realize what you will lose?”

“I think so. I don’t care.”

“Touch me.”

She hesitated and lightly touched his sleeve.

“Touch my skin or what passes for it now.”

She touched his cheek.

“I’m cold, I know, but you are very warm. Your fingers are full of life as mine once were. You would never be warm again, you know. William is cool to the touch. I’ve never known him otherwise. Your body will grow cold and you will feel the cold. You’ll lose that sweet smell you have now. Your body will cease to function; you will not hunger or thirst except for blood. Blood will not be delivered by Morvan. You’ll have to kill for it. Can you do that?”

She turned away from him.

“My words are harsh and unwelcome but you need to think of these things. You must think hard on it, Jane. He means to make you like him and like I once was. Be very sure for once done it cannot be undone.”

“Why are you saying these things to me?”

“Because I care what happens to you and William. He loves you, loves your humanness, your warmth, the scent of your blood. It’s what attracts him. I’m sorry but that is the nature of the beast. The reality is much different from the handsome young man in the portrait you fell in love with.”

She turned on him. “Are you trying to drive me away from William? Trying to drive me out of here so you can have him to yourself?”

He stopped playing and looked at her. “No, for if you fled he would come for you. I am trying to tell you that once that human attraction is gone then you must prepare yourself for the changes in him. He may love you forever but he will seek out that humanness again and again because he craves it. I know him that well.  He’s kept women all over the countryside in a half state of ecstasy waiting for his next visit when he would drink from them. He likes it that way and when they die as they must, he moves on to another. I know because I have been witness to it. This is what awaits you, darling Jane. He is not cruel but that is his nature.”

His words rang of truth. She sat down on a settee and sipped her coffee. Jameson was warning her of what was to come. So far she’d tried to separate what he was with the man she loved. She didn’t want to know what went on before he came to her in the evenings. It startled her when he sat down beside her. She could feel the cold emanating from him.

He took her hand in his long fingers. “If my touch distresses you then say it…I have no wish to hurt you or cause you any distress. I have tried to paint a picture of what lies ahead for you. On the other side of that is what you will become.  You will be forever beautiful as you are now, but there is a price to pay for immortality.”

She turned and looked into his eyes. “You must have been very good at seduction.”

He smiled impishly.

“I know you mean well, Jameson. You have given me much to think about.”

“It is only my love for William and my growing love for you that drives me to speak. There is a vampire behind the illusion you have of him. I do not think you truly understand it.”

“You…you will help me to understand it?”

“If I can. There are many books here and many on the subject of vampires that William has collected. I read them as a child. I suggest you do the same. Learn all you can. Observe him closely, especially early in the evenings when he is full. You do not see how pale he is when he rises from his crypt. He does not want you to and do not disobey him. He has created this illusion for you. Help him to keep it.”

“You said last night he was the strong one…you must be mine. I shall need you.”

He laughed lightly. “I will be here. I have nowhere else to go. I was brought here as an infant. It is the only real home I know. I shall haunt Cornagaugh for eternity.” He smiled and played with her fingers.

She smiled back. “You’re not bad for a ghost.”

“It is traumatic, Jane, to know who I am and who I cannot be again.”

“You still have your music.”

“Yes, strangely enough I do. I cannot perform.”

“You can still write.”

“I can write it. Perhaps we can persuade William to perform, eh?” He laughed.

“He plays very well.”

“Yes, he does. He was my tutor.” He looked down, remembering. “I frustrated him to no end because I would not learn to read music. I play by ear.”

“But you did learn, didn’t you? Your music was published.”

“In time I did with his help. I was too impatient to be slowed by writing down the notes, as if I knew my time was short and I had to do it all…right now. William was my guide; he led me to worlds and experiences I would never have known.”

“Jameson, did you ever love a woman?”

“I was always in love, Jane. William was the only true love of my life and I had him for twenty five years. Short years, they were. There was never a particular woman for me. There were many available but I leaned toward married women. You see, I vowed never to marry. I was frightened of producing a monster such as myself.”

“You were never a monster.”

“Oh, but I was. Only half human with a craving for blood that my body did not need to survive. I never minded the kill. I found pleasure in it. I was very discreet and no one ever knew what I was, but I knew.”

“The pain and torture that lived in your soul came through in your music.”

“That was my only outlet for it. William knew of it.”

She looked down into her empty cup.

“Am I keeping you from your breakfast?”

“No, I’ve already eaten.” She looked up at him. “I…I can see why William loves you. You’ll just have to put up with me, Jameson. I’m still finding my way here…trying to find my place.” She made a little face and leaned into him a little. “Between a vampire and a ghost.”

“Strange companions you keep, Mrs. Cornith.” He turned to face her, feeling her warmth on his arm and shoulder.

“I’ve always been a little strange. When I was a little girl my best friend was a goat named Nancy. I told her all my secrets.”

“You haven’t moved too far away from Nancy.”

“I’m a long, long way from that little girl swinging on the gate. Kiss me.”

He did and found her lips warm and soft and wet. “We cannot make a habit of this.”

“No, no, I don’t intend to. I just feel very close to you.”

“Perhaps you fell in love with the wrong portrait. If so…you are twice damned.”

“So I am. I think I’ll go into the garden for awhile.”

Jane walked down to the pond and sat in the tall grass. No one came to tend the gardens at Cornagaugh. That was something she should see to. Yet here she was sitting in the grass while down in the cellars, the dungeons of the tower, lay her beloved. She’d never ventured down there and had no wish to. But wasn’t it to be her final bed, her sleeping place? It always seemed like something far away in the distant future, something so far away it didn’t bear thinking about.

Jameson brought it forward and she couldn’t dismiss it any longer. The overall thing that came from her conversation with Jameson was that William loved her as a human. The possibility that things might be different when she transformed into a vampire had not occurred to her. He might…even now, have some woman out there in the countryside yearning for his lips on her throat. Perhaps this very night he would go to her. He would drink from her, kiss her and maybe even love her. This was the man she loved.

She rested her eyes on the heels of her hands. What had she done, what sort of fairy tale had she woven around William? He’d tried to tell her of his nature and she’d been blinded by love. It hadn’t mattered to her then. She looked up at the sky, at the clouds sailing by…never to see the sun again or feel it’s warmth on her skin…what would she give for love? Eternity with William…if he would still love her as he did now. There was no way to know…no certainty…until the death. A door that opened only one way.

Chapter 4

Jane was quiet most of the afternoon. She did find the books Jameson had mentioned and began reading up in her bedroom. She could hear faint sounds of the piano from time to time. It would distract her for awhile with thoughts of Jameson. He would be a part of their lives. No longer would it just be her and William at Cornagaugh. She would have to share William with Jameson. They had a history that would never include her. She couldn’t help but feel jealous of Jameson.

Just before dusk she bathed and dressed for the night. Down in the hall Jameson had built up a fire.

“You look lovely tonight, Jane.”

“Thank you. You’ve made a fire.”

“I’m finding things I can do besides sit on a piano stool. I can pick up a candlestick and feel the heat from the fire. I can feel everything. I’m still trying to get used to this form I’ve taken on.”

“Discovery.”

“Yes, I saw you with books. Did you make any discoveries?”

“It’s hard going. The vampires they describe were true monsters.”

“I suppose it’s not reading recommended for ladies. I do apologize.”

“You read them as a child, you said.”

“Yes, but I was no ordinary child. I was raised by two vampires, Morvan and William.”

“Who were your parents, your real ones?”

“I don’t know. William brought me from a woman who’d just birthed me to another and I lived with her for two years until she died of vampire disease. Actually I hastened that along. I fed on her as I’d seen William do. He brought me here. He says the disease was passed onto me through her breast milk. From the first swallow I was fed the disease. I sickened for awhile but it passed.”

“He gave you to a woman who was diseased?”

“He had no way of knowing the disease might pass to me.”

Jane turned away from him and looked into the fire. William was responsible for the thing that Jameson was. No wonder he…but the guilt must be enormously heavy to bear. “Do you blame him, Jameson?”

“I have never known any other way, Jane. I do not blame him. I begged him to make me as he was but he would not. He loved me as I was in my human body. It was only after I’d run myself to ground that he brought me here and made me at last a vampire. Still I was never truly as he was. I might have been had I lived.”

“I didn’t know about your origins or how you came to be. That explains a lot.”

“Does it? I called him Dada until I was a man. He did not keep me out of guilt, if that is what you are thinking.  He loved his child, the one he’d never father on his own. He named me for his father. Shh…he comes!”

“Hello, my darling Jane.” William went to her and kissed her.

“William,” she smiled and held him for a moment.

“And Jameson.” He turned and kissed him, too.

“You have a fire ready. Aren’t you clever. What have you two been doing today?”

Jameson looked at Jane.

“We’ve talked and I’ve been reading. I think Jameson might start writing music again.”

“Ah, now that would be something. Should we say new music by Jameson Cornith recently unearthed at Cornagaugh?”

“I thought to put your name to it. I cannot perform but you can.”

“Me? I was never a performer. That was you.”

“But you could do it if you would. You could be a descendant I never had, some distant relative to whom the talent passed.”

“You never had any descendants. You are well documented, Jameson,” Jane commented.

“All lies! How could they document me?”

“But you are. Have you shown him the music book, William?”

“No, but I shall. You do not know that your music still lives and is played in London and Paris and New York. There was something in a paper from London I received about a concert hall featuring music of Jameson Cornith.”  He turned to Jane, “We should go. I haven’t taken you anywhere.”

“To London? I’m ready for that. I’ve never been to London.”

“Jameson?”

“I can hardly travel in this condition.”

“I wonder if you’re visible to everybody or just to us.”

“That’s a good point, Jane. We must figure a test.”

“Take me with you when you hunt tomorrow night. I don’t feed but I can observe.”

“All right. It will be almost like old times.”

“Not quite.”

“Ah, Jameson, if I could eat that ray of sunlight that destroyed you I would a thousand times. Better you should have lived than me. I had nothing to offer but you…”

“William, we all have regrets. It does no good to dwell on them.”

“Jameson, even if you are visible we could throw a rug over you when need be.”

Jameson laughed. “I should look a proper ghost then. Make it a white rug, Jane.”

William did not join in their laughter. The terrible responsibility he felt for Jameson weighed heavily on him.

“Perhaps while in London we may find a solution, if there be one, for you, Jameson.”

“How many more incarnations do you think I can bear?”

William looked pained. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Jane felt sorry for William, too. She looked at him closely as Jameson had suggested she do. He was beautiful as always with a pale complexion and a slight tint in his cheeks. He never changed except when his soft chestnut hair would fall on his forehead. A slight beard that once she thought he was growing would never grow. His nails were nearly transparent. A slight hint of color. But his eyes drew you. Beautiful blue like sapphires, they glistened.  William’s skin was like porcelain. The pores of his skin were closed.  This, too, would happen to her. She would never be able to visit Leadmore again, never see Old Bill. She would never see her family again in America. How much could she give for love? How much…knowing it may not be there as it was now?

“Jane?”

“Oh, sorry. I was wool gathering. What did I miss?”

“London. We can leave tomorrow at dusk.”

“All right. I’ll be ready. What do I need to do for you?”

“Nothing, darling. Morvan will see to me.”

Jameson had been watching her gather her wool. She was thinking and it may not bode well for William. Perhaps he should have said nothing, but then it would not be fair to her or to William if she did not consider her options while she may.

“Will you show us what you’ve written today, Jameson?”

“Ah, did I say I had written it down?”

William shook his head. “How am I to make my debut without music?”

“Come and listen anyway. I will write it down.”

He sat down and began to play.

“Have you given it a name?” William asked, settling with Jane on the long sofa.

“It’s for Jane.”

Jane blinked and began to listen carefully. It was similar to William’s Theme but…sadder. She wanted to cry. He’d captured it exactly. How intuitive he was. It went on with wonder and sorrow and he played it almost hesitantly. Yes…oh, yes, Jameson. The notes fell like teardrops, softly, and ended almost silently. He then went into the variations of William’s Theme. Her eyes were wet with tears and she let them fall from her face.

William noticed her tears and he, too, was moved by the music. “Play it again,” he asked when Jameson stopped.

Jane stared at the floor as the notes fell softly on her. How sad it was to love as she did. To love a vampire was hopeless. She closed her eyes.

William pulled her to him and held her. She opened her eyes and looked into his. Sadness…yes. He knew it, too…words he could not say to her.

“Jane..."

“No…I’m…I’m…not all right.”

“What…is it that troubles you?”

She shook her head silently and bit her lip.

“Do you want to go upstairs?”

“No, not yet.”

“Madam, your dinner is served.”

“Thank you, Morvan.” She turned to William. “I’ll just go…eat.”

He sensed she wanted to be alone and released her. After she left for the dining room he turned on Jameson.

“What was that about? How long have you been in love with her?”

“You forget, William, I am but a shadow.”

“I forget nothing! You are…aren’t you?”

“I love what she is to you…nothing more.”

“You lie to me!”

“All right, I feel sorry for her. Yes…me, who never gave a damn about any woman except for what I could have from her. She is…tender, open and honest and so very vulnerable. Her love for you makes her more so. She has no idea what you have planned for her, no idea what it means to give up your life as a human. She has this romantic concept of what a vampire is. She sees you as you are now…would she turn from you at the hunt? Would she hunger for your lips then? It would sicken her.”

“You are mistaken. She does understand.”

“No, she is an innocent in love with you. Either make her or let her go, William.”

“I…cannot.”

“Cannot take her life or let her go?”

“Both.”

“Then take her to London, to Paris…give her something to remember. I will not accompany you.”

Chapter 5

Jane went over to Leadmore to say good-bye. She was excited about going to London and told them Cornagaugh would be closed down until they returned.

“Everything all right over there?” Old Bill asked.

“Yes, everything is fine. I’m thinking perhaps I might sell the farm. I don’t know how you go about such things but I really have no use for it now.”

“It’s your inheritance, Jane, your family’s land.”

“I have a new family now.”

“Tell me something…what exactly is it that William does?”

“He’s a composer. Music.”

“Oh.”

“He spends a lot of his time working on his compositions.”

“I see. I guess that’s why I ain’t seen an invite.”

“Sorry about that. Maybe when we get back from London things will settle down for us. We are newlyweds, you know.”

“Yeah, well, you tell that husband of yours I said hello and I’d like to see him from time to time.”

“I will.” She hugged him. “I love you, Old Bill, remember that.”

“Hey, what’s all this?”

“Nothing…well, wish me luck in London.”

“You be careful in the city.”

It bothered her to lie to him. She turned away and mounted her horse.

“Why aren’t you going with us?”

“I don’t care to travel in this condition,” Jameson answered.

“I meant to say something last night. What you played for me went straight into my heart. You understand better than anyone ever will.”

“Are you afraid?”

“Yes, I’m terribly afraid.”

“There is still time.”

“I don’t think he’s in any hurry.”

“No…no. Drink up every bit of life you can in London or wherever you go.”

“Jameson..."

“I care about what happens to you.”

“I wish I’d known you…before…when you were alive.”

“You wouldn’t have liked me then.”

“You’re wrong. I know you through your music. You say things there that you could never put into words. What you played for me last night…your fingers fell like teardrops on the keys.”

“Do you still have my shirt?”

“Yes…you were here when I told William I slept in it?”

“I was here and I know you knew it was mine and not his.”

She sat down on the piano stool. “What am I going to do?”

“I cannot help you, Jane.”

“Play for me.”

He pulled up another stool and sat down and placed her hand on the keys, guiding them to the beginning of what he’d written for her. She played left hand and he right. She noticed his hands were as solid as she’d ever seen him.  She couldn’t play anymore and covered her eyes and wept.

She didn’t mind the cold when he took her in his arms and held her while she cried.

“I’d better straighten up, huh?” She sniffed and pulled away from him.

“Cry if you will. Cry while you can cry salty tears. Go outside and stand in the sun. Spend as much time as you can outside in the daylight. You’ll remember the warmth on your skin, the smell of grass in the heat of the sun, the sound of birds in the trees.”

“You didn’t want to be a vampire, did you?”

“I begged for it and I was ready when it happened. For me, Jane, it was the ultimate gift. It transcended anything I’d ever known in my life because I loved William. It was the ultimate act of love when he made me.”

“Why do you hate it so badly for me?”

“Because it will be different for you and you are not ready.”

“I may never be ready. My fate was sealed when I married him. I do love him.”

“I know.”

“Will you be here when we come back…you won’t leave?”

“I’ll be here.”

“I can’t see through you.” Lightly she kissed his solid lips.

“You’d better go and pack your trunk.”

“Shall I pack your shirt?”

“I don’t think William would like that.”

She did pack his shirt, folded small in the bottom of her trunk. She thought of it as her good luck talisman.

She found him in the hall when she went back downstairs. “I wanted to say goodbye to you before William gets here. I’ve never known anyone who understands me the way you do. It’s like you can see right into my heart and my mind. I don’t know what’s going to happen in London or Paris. I may not be me when I come back. I wanted you to know that I’ve fought with myself through jealousy and fear of you. I’ve come to the conclusion that you are a very special person in my life.” She bit her lip and rested her hands on his chest.  “I’m going to miss you.”

“I will think of you often as I do now.” His hands closed over hers. “I know you belong to William and I know he loves you. I will always  be here…I love you, Jane.” He kissed her then…hesitant at first lest she flinch from him. She didn’t pull back.

He kissed her as he might a lover and without the bloodlust that used to accompany such a kiss. It was satisfying and painful at the same time. He was going to lose her.

Morvan was the first to appear, carrying her trunk down the stairs and out to the carriage. William was still in his room where he’d bathed and dressed. He took a last look around and went down the stairs. Morvan would return for his trunk.

“All ready to go?” He looked from Jane to Jameson. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No, I haven’t changed my mind.” Jameson moved away from Jane. “I wish you a good trip.”

“Thank you, Jameson. I think it will be. We’ll spend some time in London and then on to Paris. Paris will be new for me, too. I’m sure much has changed.”

Jane could sense something was not quite right between them. They were too stilted and formal with each other.

William kissed Jameson good bye and they climbed into their carriage.

Jameson stood in the hallway until they disappeared from sight. He loved William as he always had but he could not condone what he was doing with Jane. His love for Jane was something new to him. He went to his piano to plumb the depths of his feelings.

It was a long trip by carriage to London. Jane lay in William’s arms, being lulled to sleep by the motion of the carriage. Her random thoughts came to rest with Jameson and that kiss he’d given her. She could have sworn he was as solid as William. What was it that brought that on? He’d been that way in the music room earlier in the day. Whatever it was, he was a good kisser. Again she wished she’d known him when he was alive. Would there ever have been a William for her if she had? She pressed her face into William’s shoulder.

“Not much further, my darling,” he murmured in her ear.

He took her to the townhouse and there they resided for four months. During that time William arranged for the sale of the farm. A letter was sent to Old Bill. Mrs. Abrams had already left the farm. Jane could imagine Old Bill’s reaction to receiving a letter from some unknown solicitor in London telling him his services were no longer required.

William took her to plays, to concerts and introduced her to society. He could still call on his credentials as Baron William Cornith, although he fabricated the generation. She was swept into a world she never knew existed. He arranged for an escort to take her around the city during the day and to pay her calls.

He satisfied his needs early in the evenings among the backstreets and slums of London. As always, he was bathed and impeccably dressed when he presented himself to Jane. He was the perfect partner, perfect host and escort, and she was able to push her fears to the back of her mind. One thing that began to concern her was that he no longer made love to her as often as he had at Cornagaugh. She was too naive and embarrassed to broach the subject with him.

It was the same again in Paris. William was discovering the city again after a hundred year absence. He loved Paris and memories of his time there with Jameson were never far from his thoughts. He showed Jane the old theaters where Jameson had his greatest successes. Some were boarded up and in near ruin and some were still thriving.

“I wish he could perform again,” she said wistfully.

“Nothing would give him greater pleasure. You became quite close to Jameson, didn’t you?”

“Yes, in the short time we had. I have great respect for his talent.”

“I believe he had great respect for you as well.”

It finally dawned on her. “You have nothing to be jealous of there, William.”

“I’m sure not, however it was a fortunate time for us to begin our travels.”

She looked at him but said nothing.

Chapter 6

As an observant, level-headed woman, any change in William’s behavior was noted. After two months in Paris there was something about him that got her attention. He was becoming more amorous. There were times she looked up to find him looking at her seductively. She responded in kind to him because he was absolutely sexy. It was a welcome change after his withdrawal in London.

She had no way of knowing where he spent time when he wasn’t with her. He’d found his enclave of vampires still in the city and was often a visitor to the house of Madame Vivian. She entertained him in her bedroom. No one had sunk their teeth into his neck since Jameson. It was a pleasure that left him nearly intoxicated and thirsting.

In bed with Jane he saw her veins through her translucent skin. He traced them with his tongue down her breasts, up her neck and her thighs. He nuzzled her neck and licked her vein. One night during their heated lovemaking he could contain himself no longer and he bit and drank from her. It frightened her because it seem to come from nowhere. They hadn’t discussed it, was it time…was he going to make her now? Her mind near exploded before he pulled himself away from her and looked into her wide, frightened eyes.

Immediately he was contrite and apologized. “I am sorry.” He turned away from her and sat on the side of the bed. “I…I can no longer resist you.”

She sat up, covering her nakedness with the sheet. “William?” She felt her neck and it felt hot.

“I did not want this to happen but I am weak in your presence.” He stood up and began to dress. “I will have my things moved to another room.”

“No…no, William.”

“You do not understand, my darling Jane.”

“Explain it to me.”

“I cannot feed from you and bring your death and if I stay with you then that is what will happen. I cannot bring myself to end your life. You are too precious and beautiful to me. You will not sicken from this thing I have done to you tonight. There may be some fever about the marks but it will soon fade as will the marks I have made upon you.” He was speaking quickly and with distress.  “I never meant for it to come to this, you must believe me.  I’ve loved you as no other. It takes every bit of strength I possess to walk out of this room, but I must.”

“What…what are you doing? Are you leaving me here?”

“We must part in order to save you. I will make the arrangements to send you home”

She burst into tears, great sobs escaping from deep within her. He came over and comforted her as best he could.  His eyes were bloody with his own tears.

“I am so sorry, my love, so sorry. I do not have it within me to take your life.” He kissed her, pulled himself from her arms and left her.

Two days she lay in the hotel bed before she got up and bathed and dressed. A message awaited her downstairs at the desk. When she was ready a carriage would take her to the coast where her passage was booked on a ship bound for America.

It was another blow. She was not to return to Cornagaugh.

He gave her the proceeds from the sale of her farm by way of messenger. She did not see him again.

While waiting for the ship to depart, she wrote a letter to Jameson and told him what had happened.

…It grieves me that I will not see you again. I remember your warnings to me and perhaps this is the best thing that could happen. At least I am sure I will see it that way some time in the future. For now I am totally bereft and sunk deep in pain and heartbreak.

I believe he is still in Paris although I cannot be certain. I am sure he will eventually come home to Cornagaugh. I am bound for New York and I may stay there for awhile. It gives me some comfort to write to you whether or not you receive this letter. I will write again when I reach my final destination. Your music for me came true but not the way we thought. Still, teardrops fall upon the keys.

Yours with love,

Jane

Jameson did receive her letter delivered by a young man who threw it at the door and ran away, holding his hat on his head as if for dear life. He was nearly transparent again but by sheer force of will he was still able to play his piano. That accomplishment led to the belief that the house was indeed haunted and kept any would-be visitors and pranksters away.

He sat down in the hall to read her letter. His love for William rebounded for he knew the sacrifice he had made. He wished with all his heart that he might comfort Jane but he could not, at least not personally. He made a decision right then to do something for her…something he might be capable of doing in his present state.

In a few weeks a package arrived in London at a publishing house. The accompanying letter explained the contents. It was signed by William Cornith. Inside the package was a stack of music found at the ancestral home of the Cornith family, so the letter stated, music written by Jameson Cornith and only just discovered. It was the wish of the family that all proceeds that might be gained from the publication of this music go to Mrs. Jane Cornith of New York City, America.

The news of this find quickly spread and orders came in for copies of the new music. However, as instructed, the first copies off the presses were to be sent to Mrs. Cornith in America.

Jameson was thoroughly pleased with himself.

When the package reached Jane she was overcome with tears. Whatever Jameson had to say to her was there. It took her some time before she was able to sit at her piano. He’d published William’s Theme, Jane’s Heart and then more pieces that she’d never heard him play. She got half way through Jane’s Heart before she broke down again. Memories of playing alongside of him washed over her.

Jane weathered William’s desertion of her in Paris. From a distance now she understood why he left her. She still loved him and thought of her life with him constantly. She also thought of Jameson and wondered if William had made it back to Cornagaugh. The thought of him being there alone in that big house bothered her.

For herself, she bought a townhouse in New York City. She didn’t go out much and did not enter into society. After Jameson’s music was published a reporter found her and identified her as being Jane Cornish. He was interested in anything she could tell him about the Jane of Jane’s Heart. She would not talk to him. The papers made up their own story about Jameson Cornith and a long lost love. She smiled ruefully. How close to the truth were they? One hundred years separated him from his lost love.

It was two years before William returned to Cornagaugh. He’d spent the remainder of the year after he sent Jane home, in Paris. He then went to Florence with Madame Vivian where he stayed for another year. He did not wish to return to Paris and roamed around on his own for awhile until he felt the need to go home again. He’d become hard while staying with the vampires. He’d vowed never again to get that close to a human woman. The company of vampires had offered him some protection from humans and he’d distanced himself from them, no longer seeking their company. They were a source of food to him but nothing more.

On his arrival he went in search of Jameson, however Jameson had faded back into nothingness again. Unable to stand the house and the fresh memories that surrounded him, he went down to his crypt and to sleep again.

Jameson’s spirit was still there at Cornagaugh but he’d been unable to communicate with William. William was gone from him down in the underground dungeons of the tower. Six months passed and already the road had filled with saplings and undergrowth.

One day a young man appeared in the road to Cornagaugh. He checked his map and proceeded to the old mansion. Excitement built inside of him when he saw that it was little more than a ruin. Only the tower still stood in one piece.

He knocked at the door, waited a reasonable about of time and then tried the latch. After giving it a good dose of his shoulder, the door opened. Inside he prowled around in wonder at the splendor of a bygone era. How had it remained so? He studied the portrait in the hall and wandered around until he came to the music room.

“Oh, my God!” He went over and touched the piano and his eyes were drawn to the portrait on the wall. “There you are, Jameson Cornith! Wow!” He pulled out a notebook and began writing quickly, dashing off his impressions.

He was a young man about six feet tall and of good build and good health. He’d been in England for exactly forty-eight hours. The publication of Jameson’s music had sparked new interest in the composer and this young man was researching an essay on Jameson.

He had no qualms about poking around in the tower rooms. He was upstairs in William’s room and then he went into Jameson’s room. It didn’t take him long to determine who’d once lived there. He lit a candle he found by the bed. The room was dark and unseasonably cold with the windows boarded over. He searched about in trunks and chests, hoping to find an unpublished sheet of music.

He was totally unaware that something had attached itself to him. He spent the better part of the day roaming the house and grounds until he thought he had everything he needed to paint a background for Jameson Cornith. He left the house and took one last look before heading down the road and picking up his knapsack. Hanging it over his shoulder, he walked out toward the London Road where his hired cab waited with the driver asleep across the seat.

All the while the thing was seeping into his flesh, into his internal organs and his heart, like water into sand.