only human

Four

Before he knew it Hal was at the door. It soon became apparent that he was the only one who’d walked:everywhere around him there were horse-drawn carriages with women in elegant pale dresses and smart men in finely tailored suits stepping out, hand in hand. Hal felt that he was a little underdressed. When choosing Pendoughan as a place of residence he hadn’t exactly anticipated coming to any gatherings, and thus all of his finest clothing was left in his house in Devonshire which was currently unlived in and abandoned. The best ensemble he could throw together was a black overcoat with wide lapels and a turned down collar, over a short, pale blue waistcoat, knee breeches and a white cravat. He’d put on the only top hat he had – it was black and no good whatsoever at keeping out the cold.

The inside of the manor was like a golden melting pot for life and festivity and riches and warmth and activity. People were bustling everywhere, dressed in their finery, in deep conversation or making light trivial conversation with new acquaintances. There was a grand staircase on which people were standing, walking, talking, laughing… to the left Hal could hear music; a small symphony of stringed instruments and a pianoforte… there was a buzz of conversation and a rhythm of footsteps also, and Hal found himself drawn towards this place.

The room in which all of the activity seemed to be taking place was a candle-lit hall with white walls and vast crystal chandeliers; large bay windows beside which hung glorious pieces of art. Hal gazed around the place in awe, and took his hat off to stop it falling from atop his head as he absorbed the immense ceiling with its beautiful chandeliers, like icicle formations reflecting light in all directions.

Suddenly, somebody brushed passed Hal in his dream-like state, and shook him back to reality. Why am I here? Why did I decide to come here?

Yet again, he remembered.

Hal delved further into the mass of people, his eyes keen for the sight of that familiar old face, when quite unexpectedly a woman of around forty dashed to him and shook his hand frantically as if he were an old friend.

“Sir! Sir, welcome! There is food through in the dining room; well it was the music room but you see we decide it would be better to…” She tottered off towards the far end of the hall. Hal simply stood, a little unsure of what had just happened.

But then, he saw Sylvie standing in the wake of where the woman had just been. Her face was glowing with ecstasy, it seemed. Perhaps it was the light but she seemed suddenly more handsome than she had before, with her hair pinned in golden locks behind her, and her eyes, bright and green, shining with happiness.

“You came!” she exclaimed.

Her smile was catching and made Hal smile, and all of a sudden the craving for blood escaped his mind and he took her hand in his, kissed her white silk glove and then bowed afore her. She curtsied in reply.

“Miss Rochford, it is an honour to see you once again,” Hal said courteously.

“And you. I hardly thought I would… see you again, I mean. You didn’t seem overly keen on coming tonight.” She raised an eyebrow when Hal made no comment. “I think we ought to move – we are rather in the way of the dancing.”

“Yes – of course.”

With that she led them both to the edge of the room where they were able to look upon all of the goings-on in its heart, at first in silence, and then she spoke: “Sylvie.”

Hal looked at her. She was still fixated on the dancing. Hal half thought he’d imagined her saying it. “I’m sorry?”

She turned her attention to him, and smiled apologetically. “Please, call me Sylvie.”