Walter de Ville's Advocate

Chapter Two

"First they mess up the flower order, then there's a delay in the champagne delivery," I muttered to myself, pacing back and forth in the foyer. Normally, when these confounding emotions started bubbling to the surface, I would sulk alone in my study – my sanctuary from the outside world.

The three families were well-aware of my rage – a few more so than the rest, but I was accustomed to the façade of good society, and the proper mannerisms, therein. As such, I would rather spend the rest of the day mulling over my books, and the solace that only the still silence could bring me.

Though it seems that if I want something done right . . .

"Come, now," a deep, feminine voice mused from the top of the stairs. "I've not seen you this out of sorts in nearly a century."

Viktoria was an odd sort of cruel, something that I once relished.

Well, I still revel in cruelty, but hers was two-dimensional in a way that it always left me wanting something more.

"You aren't supposed to be here yet. Lucy is up in her room, as you ought to be."

"Oh, so you know about us?" she teased. "Don't worry, I'll be tucked away from your blushing bride before she arrives." Viktoria descended the stairs, each step meticulously placed to display her delightful figure. Standing in front of me, I looked up into the eyes of the wife that had been by my side the longest. She extended her claws, baring her teeth as she ran her nails gently through my hair, dragging them slowly over my scalp; my eyes shuttering close at the comfort her physical presence brought to my troubled mind.

"You don't have to fret, my love. Anyone would leap at the chance to be with you, to have all this?" she elegantly shrugged to our estate.

I had momentarily eased to her touch, as she knew not only what brought me pleasure, but also what could calm this old – at times rattled – brain of mine, but it was her reminder of the wealth and power I wielded that felt like a dip in an early spring lake.

Clutching her wrist, I glared at her. "Go," I commanded. I didn't need to yell for Viktoria to understand. Bored with her I might be, but at least she was obedient; her loyalty second-nature.

Viktoria's smile faded to an easy frown – an expression she reserved for me – and she cleared her throat with a small nod. Before reaching the stairs, she looked back to me. "I'll keep the light on. All night, kedvesem." My dear.

"Don't burn the house down," I muttered as I exited towards the hallway. I had other matters to attend to, and made my way to the yard where deliveries for the weekend festivities were being made.

After answering some questions to the gardener, I overheard Mr. Field berating the fresh delivery of maid staff. Apparently one or two of them had broken many of the champagne glasses, not that we currently had anything to pour in them.

I wouldn't have cared to interrupt, as there was plenty to see to before Evelyn's arrival, but when I heard an unfamiliar voice actually talking back to my butler, I was immediately drawn in.

She's here.

And the first impression of her future home was already going sourly. I had to hope that Viktoria did my hair justice, as my reflection had been taken from me over half a millennium ago. Willing myself to slow down, I walked over to and up the gravel driveway, but it wasn't until I was within societal speaking range that any of them noticed my approach.

"I beg your pardon," Mr. Field had asked in a gruff voice, and although polite his words might be, there was malice in his tone.

"Did I stutter?" she replied.