Death of Connor Sanderson: Chap 2: Part 3

Chapter Two: Part 3.
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Connor pretended that his own rock-steady body was struggling for balance, and, like a dropped stone disturbing a tranquil pool, his macabre fascination was broken.

“Sorry, Sir. Hole in the road,” yelled Harker above the jangling of the bridles, and the beating of hooves.
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As the carriage left the road, the vibration as the wheels crunched over the gravel of the driveway traveled up Connor’s spine and sang like a tuning fork note inside his ears. Connor gratefully grabbed at the further distraction with both hands, filing away the sensations as a coma victim rediscovering the world for the first time.

“Five minutes, Sir,” yelled Harker as he steadied the horses, and the rolling gait of the carriage became a gentle sway.

Connor twisted around in his seat, searching for his first glimpse of the house, and wondering if he was still capable of feeling the joy that usually went with it.

The silhouette of the house loomed large, punctuated with a cheerful patchwork of amber squares where the lamplight spilled out through the panes of the hand blown glass windows. Billowing clouds hung over the house staining the navy sky with a shroud of charcoal grey, and bright specks of ash danced above the chimney stacks like swarming fireflies.

Connor speculated on how many of the fifty one coal fires inside the house had been lit to warm the guests. He was about to make a joke of it when he clamped his jaw shut with a snap, knowing instinctively that Reggie could not see the dazzling display. Yet another inhuman preternatural change.

Reggie heard the clatter of Connor’s teeth and darted a glance across the carriage.

“So, your father has invited some beaus that he hopes will meet with Lady Lavinia’s approval,” said Connor, with a skeptical smile.

Easily redirected, Reggie frowned as he said soberly, “Oh, he is aware she has a mind of her own, but marriage is expected and her dowry is considerable. She is lucky father puts such stock in her happiness. Though, he fears her heart is already bruised.”

It was the second time today that Reggie had made reference to Lavinia being smitten, and Connor did not like it. “Perhaps, if the opportunity presents, I should make it clear to Lavinia that I think of her only as a sister?”

“Oh, she knows that, Connor. But hope is hard to suppress.” The moonlight sliced through the trees and illuminated Reggie’s grimace. “Is it such a crime to wish for the ideal world?” His warm regard sought Connor’s face. “To wish my best friend and my sister were a match?”

“No, Reggie. But the ideal world is a million miles away,” Connor’s voice swelled to fill every space in the carriage with regret. More than a million...

The carriage swung in a graceful arc as it followed the curving horseshoe path of the driveway and drew up outside the house beneath an impressive pillared portico. It was an Edwardian enhancement to the cream-colored facade of the house. After all, it would never do for the ladies finery to suffer a downpour of rain.

Lavinia stood framed in the door way, the skirt of her long emerald dress shimmering like the breeze over soft grass in the meadow as it flowed over her curves.

Reginald tutted loudly, “I see Lavinia has forgotten her manners. Mama will not be best pleased, and Mr Phelps will be muttering under his breath, I am sure.”

Connor smiled. “Opening the front door to family is hardly a crime, although Mr Phelps may not agree. And you forget, Lord Reginald. You are hardly conventional. Lords do not usually work. I am surprised His Lordship did not have a heart attack when you insisted on becoming a doctor.”

“Father has Jonathan as his heir to the estate.” Reggie met Connor’s amused regard, “You could join me in doing nothing, after all, you are family in father’s eyes.”

“Touché, Reggie. But, I could not abide sitting in a drawing room drinking tea all day!”

The carriage rocked as William jumped down onto the ground and pulled open the door.

Connor waited for Reggie to alight first, and as he stepped out to stand beside him, he dipped his icy-cold hands into his pockets and closed his fingers around lumps of warm coal wrapped in white linen rags. He took a moment to smooth his elegant black dinner jacket and tug on the tails of his ivory brocade waistcoat before gracefully ascending the wide stone steps and entering the house.

“Reggie. Connor. So wonderful that you could come.” Lavinia’s enthusiasm was brittle and awkward, and both men played along, smiling down at her. She linked her arms through theirs and self-consciously drew them across the thick gold and cream-colored carpet of the spacious entrance hall. “Mama and Papa are in the drawing room.”

As they headed through the doorway, Reggie shot an apologetic smile at Mr Phelps the butler that helped to smooth his ruffled feathers.

“I have announced your arrival, your Lordship,” said Mr Phelps stiffly, making the point that he was still performing the duties that Lavinia had not interfered with.

Connor entered the drawing room and smoothly extricated himself from Lavinia’s hold, shooting a fleeting glance into her face. Her hopes were etched across her features, and Connor decided it was kinder to be cruel. Gazing out across the busy room he said dismissively, “I hear you have young men vying for your attentions this evening. I shall release you to dazzle them, my dear.”

As he turned away, feeling like a callous heel, Connor could not miss the rush of blood that stained her cheeks with embarrassment, and the delicate aroma of her sudden perspiration. Pinning a careless smile on his face, he took a deep breath, presented his broad back, and left her standing in the doorway.