Infernal Vices (Resurrectionist #3)

CHAPTER 29

GOOD FRIDAY

Friday 8th April 1898

Again, Sebastian visited me during the night and it was quite the comfort to have him in bed with me, and without that god-awful beard he used for his disguise. My head rested on my beloved’s chest and I caressed the sparse ginger blond hairs on his pectorals as I listened to the old house creaking and settling for the night. He absently toyed with my curls as I told of the deconsecrated church at the top of the hill.

“The church appears abandoned and remains locked,” I said. “There’s a warning sign on the main doors to scare off snoopers, but Cavendish has a key for a side door into the vestry. Inside was quite the sacrilegious outrage.”

“In what way?”

“He’s turned a place of worship into what looks like…well…a knocking shop, with candles, Turkish rugs, and piles of silk cushions. Of all the places that could have been used, a church is the most blasphemous choice. He’s even left the crucifix in place! Can you believe it? The figure of Our Lord is looking down upon men rutting! You need to take a look at the place,” I groused.

“What does the lock on the vestry door look like?”

“I thought you’d ask that, so I paid special attention to it. The lock is a rectangular wooden stock with an iron mechanism assembled inside. It requires a large iron key to open it. The key looks very old. Do you think you could maybe steal the key from Benjamin?”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary,” Sebastian said softly as he fingered my curls. “That sounds like a Banbury lock, eighteenth century. I have my lock pick kit with me. It’ll be a breeze to pick. You’re going to the service in Abbotsham in the morning, yes?” he said conversationally.

“Yes. And I’d wager as its Easter, most of the guests and servants will be among our party going into the village.”

“Good. I’ll go and take a look around the church when everyone is at the service.”

Then, wracked with guilt, I admitted, “Lawrence and Benjamin brought the brothers up to the church to…”

“Fuck?” Sebastian suggested.

“Yes. I didn’t know what to do about an impromptu orgy. They were all hungry to get their hands on Leo again, and he was just as enthusiastic.“

I paused for a second to gather my courage.

“I was um… forced to take part,” I cringed with shame. “None of them touched me; they were too involved with one another to even remember I was there. I didn’t engage with anyone else, but I did frig myself and…I gave my seed to Leopold during the tryst. I feel utterly wretched. Can you forgive me?”

“What’s to forgive? When you run with wolves you’re expected to howl with them too! What else could you have done dear heart?”

He wasn’t wrong!

“In the circumstances I would have done the same,” Sebastian admitted. “I understand you find false facing intensely difficult and against your nature. But do not feel guilty my love. I believe in you and I trust you. Try and imagine yourself as a mere character in this sordid little play.” He caressed my hair and then laid a tender kiss on my brow. “It will all be over soon and then we shall have a lifetime together,” he whispered as he held me in the dark.

“Do you really mean that? A lifetime?”

“I could spend a hundred lifetimes with you and it would still not be enough.”

I melted at hearing those words. Sebastian’s adoration and belief in me settled my nerves. I was so very lucky to have him in my life. In just three days this mess would be over, one way or another. I drifted off to sleep with the words we shall have a lifetime together echoing in my mind.

****

I attended the Good Friday service at St Edith’s in Abbotsham with a train of carriages seating the members of the cabal and their respective wives. The carriages passed by a gaggle of servants in their best clothes and ribboned Easter bonnets walking to the village. It was a fine morning and I honestly would not have minded the walk. Sebastian had other things on his mind, and Leopold remained at Seabourn with Nissa, as they wanted to practice dances for the Easter Sunday ball.

The Cavendish Easter Ball was an annual event, and here in the countryside it apparently garnered much excitement. Select guests in the surrounding counties of Warwickshire Buckinghamshire, Berkshire, and Wiltshire would travel to Seabourn for Sunday afternoon. The ball was an opportunity for the Cavendish twins, who were finally old enough to join the marriage mart, to meet suitable country gents who did not favour London for the season. It was also an opportunity for the cabal members to sidle away for the ungodly ritual while there would be the much distraction with the comings and goings of guests .

Abbotsham village was rather quaint, with a village green, two pubs, and rows of thatched cottages in good repair. The church of St Edith’s was very small and it appeared our party had doubled the congregation.

On our return to Seabourn we took luncheon on the terrace in the garden. The cook had done a marvellous buffet spread and so I filled my plate and enjoyed the bright spring day. Leopold and Nissa sat at my table. Their laughter was light and playful as they continued to bloom in one another’s company, more so than I’d expected. Mr. Fairfax was not taking lunch with us, and I supposed, as Blake and Cavendish had also vanished, Sebastian was snooping and up to no good elsewhere! Earlier I’d seen that Charles had received a letter that was redirected from his London home. The letter was from America. I was curious as to the contents, but after a quick bite of lunch, Charles too had done a disappearing act.

I took a stroll with a view of bumping into Charles, but he was not in the house. I thought for a moment as he would think. Charles was a lover of beauty, an artist, and a hedonist. I followed my gut and strode around the side of the house towards the stable. The door of the huge medieval stable building was shut but it opened on quiet, well-oiled hinges so I stepped inside. The scents of horse manure, hay, and the sweat of beasts was pungent. The stable had twenty stalls, but at a glance, I saw around fourteen were occupied. I strode silently down the aisle. Horses whinnied and grunted as I passed, but I did not give them any attention. I came to an unoccupied stall. It was then I heard the moans of carnal pleasure. I rose onto my tiptoes and took a peek over the stall door. The stall was empty, so I tried another, and another. Finally, I grinned to find an occupied stall. The blond stable lad was on his knees in the hay, naked, his olive, wind-tanned skin on display, and his elbows resting on a hay bail. Charles knelt behind him, his trousers pooling at his feet, face a twist in pleasure and concentration as he pounded into the stable boy’s pale muscular backside. A year ago, I would have stepped away, and run from such an immoral, erotic sight and then denied how it had aroused me. But, due to Fratres Seminis I had seen men coupling countless times and I enjoyed it for what it was—a delightful sight and a God-given human need to connect with another. I had to give Charles credit, for he displayed the stamina of a stallion and the young man beneath him appeared to be well in the throes of ecstasy. I waited until they completed and Charles had pulled out his softening cock before I gave my applause. The young man startled and yelled in fear, scrambling in the hay to locate his britches and shirt. Charles just rose to his feet, pulled his trousers up and shook his head playfully.

“It’s okay Will; Mr. Hannan is a dear friend and will not speak of what he saw.”

“Aye, fear not, boy. I’m just here to have a word with Mr. Ashe. Don’t forget your sketch book, my friend!” I winked and then turned and made my way out of the stables. I waited outside for Charles to emerge, looking a little sheepish.

“How did you know where I was? Are my intentions that easy to read?”

Charles hooked his arm through mine and we walked together towards the gardens. “Please, Charles, do not insult my intelligence. You and that strapping young man shared sparks on your first meeting. I was in no doubt as to where you’d be.”

“Am I that transparent? Hmmm, fair enough. Isn’t he exquisite though? William is a delightfully needy lover. I must say, when he looks at me my tummy goes all fluttery. That’s never happened before.”

I turned to see Charles was blushing. “So that wasn’t just a tumble? You like him!”

“I do. He’s sweet and wild and so funny. You should see him with the horses, they adore him.”

I reached up and picked a strand of straw from his hair .

“Gods! Am I covered in straw? I need to bathe; I am feeling…a little itchy downstairs,” he admitted, his hips writhing as he walked. “Maybe there’s straw in my underpants?”

I laughed, “No, you’re not covered. You did quite well under the circumstance, just a little in your hair. Let’s hope the itching is just from the hay!” Charles gave me a playful thump on my arm.

“Why were you looking for me anyway?”

“Curiosity…about the letter you received from America.”

“Oh yes, that. I was going to tell you. It was the documentary evidence I was waiting for–the proof of identity and documents detailing the crimes he absconded from. I have a dossier full of evidence now.”

As we got closer to the house Charles pulled my arm directing me away from returning to the terrace. Shallow marble steps led down to a spacious lawn with a pathway bisecting it that led to an Italianate manicured hedged garden designed in a grid pattern. Between the evergreen hedges there were flagstone paths that lead to sculptures in the Greek style, of nymphs, satyrs, goat and bull-headed men.

“Why are we not going back to the terrace?” I grumbled.

“Forgive me; I’m trying to remain circumspect. One of the Cavendish ladies seems to have taken quite a shine to me and she has sought me out several times to speak about my art. Apart from my mother and dear Cecily I’m not at my best in the company of women,” Charles admitted.

“Ladies want to mother you, don’t they?”

“Yes, and it makes me feel more uncomfortable than this itching in my drawers! Miss Martha has taken it upon herself to pursue me as a suitor.”

“Oh dear, you did foresee this possibility,”

“Only in jest though!” Charles harrumphed. “But I’ve seen the moony way she looks at me and it makes me unnerved. Come now, we’ll walk to the pond. I’m actually glad you found me as I also have something else I’d like to discuss.”

I unhooked our arms and we continued side by side. I was grateful that we were taking a more leisurely pace now as the afternoon was becoming quite warm and I was beginning to perspire. I undid the top button on my collar and loosened my cravat as we walked in silence. What Cavendish had named the pond , was actually closer to a large boating lake. Jack Dancer and his wife were in a boat at the far end, his young wife holding a parasol as Jack rowed. We waved and they waved back. A summerhouse of bright white stone sat on the far side of the pond looking at peace in the landscape, surrounded by budding trees and verdant shrubs. We took a seat on a wooden bench and Charles then removed a cigar from his jacket pocket and struck a match. He puffed on the cigar for a moment and the fragrant blue grey smoke lingered lazily before a breeze took it away.

“I think we have another ally in our midst,” he announced.

“Who?”

Charles gestured to the couple in the row boat. “Jack. We both know how seriously he takes his job and that he’s a stickler for the rules.”

“Yes, I’ve seen him in action and he is a fierce investigator. He has quite the reputation of being, relentless. They call him the hound, you know!”

“Really? I hadn’t heard that moniker but it does suit him–especially when it comes to the way he gives a good hard fucking!” Charles laughed.

I recalled what Sebastian had told me and I did not find Dancer’s disdain for the fairer sex funny at all. “Dancer is a married man. He may be moral when it comes to upholding the laws of the land, but he’s yet another bloody hypocrite—happy to bend his rules of morality but only when it comes to his desires.”

“Many of our proclivities are married,” Charles said. We were silent for a moment before more testily he added, “Look, not one of us is beyond reproach, but in this endeavour, Jack can help us. I want to tell him the truth…about Blake.”

“Why the sudden wish to bring another into the fold?”

“Jack and I were up late last night playing cards. We drank too much.”

I raised a brow; this was quite the habit for my younger friend!

“I mentioned that I was a little concerned about the final ritual—that according to the translated scroll Leo and Lawrence would need to find true death, even for a moment, before the supposed power in the Staff of Asklepios would work and resurrect them.”

I was worried too. Sebastian and I had conversed, wondering what they would use to invite death. Sebastian believed Blake would prefer a drugged elixir, as he was partial to mixing narcotics.

Charles took a deep inhale of his cigar and then puffed it out. “Jack told me that things had gone far beyond what he was comfortable with. He didn’t believe a glass cock could actually resurrect a dead person and he’s been feeling deeply torn about the whole affair, but he couldn’t back out for fear of exposure.”

“Is that so? ”

“Yes, we both love the companionship and sex but…what Blake is proposing isn’t even theosophy, is it? What Blake proposes is a bastardization of spirituality and ancient Greek ritual. Leo is na?ve and desperate for attention. Jack is as worried as we are about what Blake will do to bring on death. Can you imagine the scandal when Blake’s plan doesn’t work and he kills the boy? We would have an international scandal on our hands…two dead bodies at the country house of a member of parliament, and one of them a twenty-two-year-old visiting German aristocrat,” he shook his head. “The guest list for this little country excursion alone would be called into question.”

“Very well. Having Scotland Yard on our side would be of benefit. We’ll need to have a private chat with our Detective Inspector Dancer and make him aware of the real sordid story behind Blake’s great work.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement, my friend. I’ll make arrangements for after dinner, tonight.”

****