||From the gravel roadway, deep yellowed lamp lights flickered in the window of the grand estate of the Dunham's. Almost everyone was there, from London to Birmingham and from London to Canterbury.

Women in thin, gauzy dresses of various whites and hues of pinks and blues stood alongside their male counterparts of trousers with Spencer jackets (omitting the tails). Some men had tailcoats, few men didn't. Some men had breeches, some didn't, only wearing trousers.

Henry was the seconded modest man—second to Edward who had with him brown trousers, tall boots wrapped around his calves, a tight double-breasted jacket, a long, deep blue velvet coat, and a white collar that fanned outwards.

Henry wore that and then some, favoring breeches and gold, an early version of the dandy man.

When Veronica arrived that night with Henry, she wore a thin white dress that dawned a brilliant pink ribbon tying her waist, outlining her curves and chest tightly.

"Welcome in, Sir Henry!" Edward grabbed his hand and shook it. "We've people from all over England with us here today. I'm sure you'll find them all wonderful. Would you like me to introduce you to the Smiths? I'm sure their girls would love to meet someone like yourself." He smiled forcefully, hiding any intentions behind it.

"No need." Henry stated, burning any hope for Edward.

Veronica wandered off as Henry stalked Edward.

"Miss Veronica." Edward called, "May I speak with you?"

Veronica stopped midway through her stride, turning half around and waiting for Edward to catch up, "Yes, whatever do you need me for?"

"Your husband—"

"Need I remind you he's not my husband,"

Edward paused, readjusting, "Your, 'master,' doesn't seem to fit in with the times."

"I don't call master, master, first of all, and second of all: you're the one dressed without a wig to powder and breeches to pull up." She clicked her tongue.

Edward tilted his head to touch his nose to hers lightly and only very briefly, "And mine was an arrangement."

Grabbing her elbow, Edward stopped Veronica to motion to Lucy's head that laid on a well-dressed Englishman wearing almost similar garments to Edward, except he had mutton chops that accentuated his sharp jaw and a green tailcoat.

He was quite the handsome brunet with a cute button nose and a young voice. He couldn't have been much older than twenty. "Lucy is very fond of you, Veronica."

"Is she now?" Veronica said automatically.

"She says I should find a woman to court while she has her way with the up-and-coming wealthy men. She sees herself as a modest woman, yet she still feels she doesn't have enough." Edward sighed, "I suppose she doesn't love me. I suppose she never loved me. I suppose she'll never find a way to love me."

Veronica looked as Lucy swooned at the boy, having drunk too much too quickly, hiccuping as she laid on his shoulder. "I'll see to it, just you see here." Despite this being the perfect setup, the woman practically handed Edward to her; Veronica saw it fit to deal with Lucy before she broke her heart. She'd test whether Edward was truthful or not with his slight invitation to adultery. Or was it adultery if they weren't legally married? Their parents threw them together haphazardly, and if neither one cared, then who's to get angry at Veronica for it?

"Excuse me, Miss Lucy, but is it okay to have your permission to dance with Edward, whichever way you present with this young man?" Veronica half asked for herself, half for Henry, for she saw the way Edward looked to him (especially the night of the storm when they first met).

"Well," Lucy wasn't drunk at all. Maybe she was a little tipsy, but she seemed much more recollected as she stood up and faced Veronica. "If you mean to say a tit for tat for my adultery, then by all means. Edward and I aren't married. We appear so to satisfy our parents. If it makes you feel any better, no priests or anything, just the law, so it doesn't count for a damn thing. You see this ring?" She held her left hand up, "Edward's father gave it to me. His family married me, not him."

She turned to the young boy and stuffed her nose into his shoulder. Dear Lord, not only am I committing one act against your Ten Commandments, I am committing two! If I am to go to hell, I might as well act to check all of them off one by one.

"Oh, Edward~" Henry laid his hand on Edward's shoulder. "Why don't I speak with you about Veronica in the parlor." He led the stiff boy to the back hall. Edward was frightened by the suspense. Has he caught on about my liking for his wife? No, pardon me, servant? What exactly is she to this vampire?

Henry closed the door carefully not to make any noise, creeping up behind Edward.

Edward noted: "Why the need to have it so dark? I'll see the maids to light the fixture—ahh!"

Henry grabbed Edward by his shoulders, pressing his mouth on Edward's neck and bruising it. He turned Edward around on his heels and pushed him onto the couch, where he pressed his lips onto his bleeding tongue, sucking it dry. Edward felt Henry's knee jab him in the thigh as he rested his entire weight on that spot.

"AH!" Edward yelled through Henry's lips. Having let go of Edward, Henry backed off and let him pinch his tongue and press out the green venom from his wound. "It burns!" He screamed, but realizing what would come of telling anyone the story, he "bit his tongue" and watched as the vibrant green liquid that was Henry's venom drip out of his mouth.

"You're no fun." Henry sighed. He picked up Edward by the arm, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and dragged him outside the parlor. Edward scrambled, shaking loose from Henry's grip, and ran to the closet where he hid, planing to hide for the rest of the night.

"Edward?" Lucy's voice called from outside the dressing room. "What on earth are you doing in there?"

"Hiding." He whispered to her.

"Well, don't you want to come out and see to the rest of the party?" Her voice was soft and reassuring. She, of course, cared for Edward—she didn't think too highly of him, however.

Dear father, she said scornfully, why have you sold me so cheap?

Look at him crawling on the floor. A child that he is—A child!

"Get up already!" She hissed, pulling Edward to his feet.

Lucy pulled him along by the arm to the front of the dining room for him to sit at a chair in the corner.

"I was right." Edward quietly said.

"Yes, Edward, yes you were. The devil posseded those girls that he did." But Edward wasn't talking about the Smith's daughters.

Wait—He suddenly thought—does that make Veronica a vampire?

All at once, he realized what he'd gotten himself into. The pain—the horror—the—

Wait! He had an epiphany.

Am I going to turn into a vampire????

Edward stopped. He felt his throat for a dryness from lack of blood.

"Edward?" Lucy turned to him, "What's the matter?"

He put his palm to his chest, feeling his heart. It's still beating. "I'm—I'm fine, dear." He breathed.

How long does it take for the venom to kick in? Should I ask Veronica about it? Edward's mine began to race.

"Then, come here!" Lucy reached for his hand and marched to the dining hall, dropping Edward's hand on a chair by the door.

The rest of the night, Edward sat in the rickety dining room chair, feeling his heartbeat. He felt it speed up and slow down to his accord, but all the while, he waited for it to stop.

"Don't stop," he pleaded. Please, please don't stop.

~~~~~~

Edward woke up in his bed next to Lucy. Light shining in through the window rested lazily at the foot of the bed.

"I have to speak to Veronica and Henry." He swiftly got out of bed and got dressed.

Lucy mumbled something about her hangover and fell back asleep. She breathed and said, "If you don't tell, I won't."

Edward, at first, didn't dare touch the light from the windows. He awkwardly turned down hallways and crawled against the walls until he accidentally tripped over a rug and fell right into the open window.

"Ah!" Edward gasped. He expected a fiery burn to erupt from his skin, but when it didn't come, he patted himself off and got back up.

Am I not a vampire? He thought to himself. Then, what was that not venom Henry injected into me?

The sun was warm against his cool skin, a warmth that would soon disappear along with the sun behind the clouds there shortly after lunch. Strolling through the grove, Edward, cleaning his glasses, thought about what he'd do if Veronica was a vampire. He supposed he'd still love her all the same—love meaning infatuation since he'd not known her long enough to call it love.

Birds chirped endlessly in the trees and grass, and a couple of doves fluttered past Edward. Suddenly, his footing caught hold in the grass when he saw the exact clearing from his dream.

Kiss me, Veronica! His mind shot out. Please, I beg for your love! Edward shook his head to throw away his thoughts, for they were only thoughts he presumed. He then remembered the feeling of Henry's lips to his, and he caressed his gingerly as he walked up.