Bram Stoker's HANNIBAL

Chapter 46: Reft of William Are Nothing Worth

Chapter 46: Reft of William Are Nothing Worth

Will returned to his house with his pack of dogs a sweaty, grass-stained mess. He'd taken them out to Hampstead Heath, a massive park and natural area that butted right up against the grounds of Hillingham, separated by a stone wall. The Heath was home to forests, paths, grassy meadows, and ponds, and the dogs had enjoyed a long, leisurely romp. Will had chased them, thrown them balls and sticks, run them through the tricks he's trained them to do, and given them all the love and attention he could, trying to make up for lost time. He swore Winston was still holding it against him.

Now it was time to eat. The dogs swirled around his legs, barking, until he sent them outside to wait while he cooked their meal, combining meat, herbs, and grains into a hearty mash.

The dogs were lined up at their bowls, waiting. He commanded them to sit and wait until he'd filled each one, and then, at his word, they leapt forward and devoured their portions. Will lingered, sinking into an old wooden rocking chair on the lawn near his cottage, making sure nobody stole Buster's share.

He was just considering his own lunch when he tracked movement coming up the main drive towards the manor house. A white painted wagon pulled by a team of two clopped up to the main doors. The side of the conveyance read WEST-END FLORALS.

A lad in a white apron and cap got down from his seat as a stable boy ran out to hold the horses. From within the wagon came an enormous bouquet of flowers arranged in a huge bronze vase. Will watched, a bemused smile on his face, as the lad struggled up the front stairs of Hillingham to ring the bell, barely able to see over the ridiculously large blooms and ferns and fronds. Margot had spared no expense, of course, sending Alana something in honor of their engagement.

The dogs were finished, licking their bowls. Will went inside and snagged an apple and some bread and cheese for himself. He was in the middle of it, a book balanced on the table where he could read and eat, when the dogs began to bark in their excited way that told him someone was approaching the cottage. He got up, dusting crumbs from his dirty clothes, and went to answer it before the visitor even knocked.

He opened the door to an explosion of colored blossoms. "Good afternoon, sir, I'm looking for Mr. Will Graham," came a voice from behind them.

"...yeah?" Will furrowed his brow, then whistled at the dogs. They plopped down on the ground and quieted.

"Delivery, sir." Will couldn't even see the lad's face, the arrangement was so big.

"Didn't anyone answer you at the manor when you rang?" Will asked.

"They did, sir, and informed me that you live here, sir..." The arrangement quivered as the lad shifted his load to the other arm. "It's quite heavy..."

Will took it from him, stepping into the house and setting it on the table next to his lunch and book. "These are for Miss Bloom, aren't they?"

"For you, sir." The lad handed him a letter as well, then waited expectantly.

Will cursed, searching his bedside table for some coins. He found some cash and dropped it in the boy's hand. Tip secured, the lad touched his hat and was on his way.

Will watched him go, then turned back to the flowers that filled the little house with their exquisite perfume. To say that the arrangement was ostentatious was a total understatement; it contained bountiful bunches of yellow yarrow flowers, bursts of dwarf sunflowers, sprays of blue hyacinth, and long reeds of apple blossom, all stuffed in an overflowing abundance of pink, magenta, and white clusters of sweet William.

Sweet William...?

The accompanying note was in an envelope of heavy cream paper, sealed with red wax. The design on the wax seal was the outline of a stag's head with a rack of pointed antlers, a calligraphy L twined within the tines. Will's heart tripped before regaining its footing. He took a breath and slid his finger beneath, cracking open the wax seal.