Angel

12- Imperfect Fit

Vincent ran his fingers over the elaborate lace trim of his cuffs. The black shirt was velvet, all save the cobweb-like fabric around the wrists and ruffles along the chest. Sliding a black coat over his shirt, he did it up, his fingers working absentmindedly over the buttons. In his dark trousers and red-black boots, Vincent could almost hear Marillia uttering in her Grecian accent how handsome he looked. "Absolutely delicious, my lord," she would say. "Good enough to eat." Vincent chuckled despite the fact that he had spent the hours until dusk yearning and worrying about Kylo. The instant attraction had left Vincent feeling like a carcass without a soul when the younger man had run off.

His full-length mirror caught a glimpse of the lord leaving his room. All that lingered in the reflection was a ripple of horns and raven-like wings.

Vincent had found his way to Antonia DeBois' house easier than he'd thought he would. A few people recalled the two young women from the ball and gave the lord directions to the DeBois home. The people he'd spoken to giggled as they recalled the sisters adorned in their garish dresses and leaving behind them a scented stream of perfume and onions. Before night fell, Lord Vincent found himself in front of a large beige stone home, one which boasted a lovely cluster of trees in the front garden and small posies huddled in pink and yellow groups. Sliding off his horse, the lord thought that this home was too lovely for Kylo's wicked family to live in, yet it could have made a pretty home if his angel lived there with people who adored him.

Tying the horse to a post, he walked up the pathway with no fanfare. There were no guards with him, nothing but the light of the moon to accompany him as he slid the glove out of his pocket and knocked on the door.

When one of the daughters opened the door, she let out a gasp. Her hand flew like a confused sparrow to her open mouth. "My lord!" said the woman Vincent recalled as Drusilla. "What do we owe the pleasure?"

As she lowered herself into a deep curtsey, Vincent plastered on a mask of pleasantness and gave her a nod. "Good evening, Lady Drusilla," he said politely. "I have come to pay your mother a visit. I am looking for someone. Would I be able to have a few minutes of her time?"

Dru looked up, beaming from ear to ear. "You are looking for someone, my lord? Someone from the ball?" When the lord nodded in affirmation, Drusilla squealed. Believing he was here because he had realized he loved her and wanted to ask her hand in marriage, Dru led him inside to the sitting room where Elmira and her mother sat sipping tea. The thought that the lord was here for Kylo never once passed her mind.

"Mother, mooother," Dru said breathlessly. "His Lordship has come for a visit." Tossing the lord a quick glance, she giggled and scurried to her mother's side.

Antonia DeBois rose along with Elmira and both women curtsied politely. "Dear, Lord Vincent. It is an honor to have you in our humble home." Looking up, the mother gave Vincent a tight smile. "May I offer you some tea while you sit and chat with my beautiful daughter?" Gesturing to Dru, the older daughter giggled behind her hands as Elmira frowned and reached out slyly to give her sister a pinch on the arm.

"My dear lady," Vincent began as he shook his head, ignoring the small whine coming from the pinched woman. "I am looking for someone and I hope you can assist me in my search." Not knowing Kylo had been whipped last night, Vincent held out the black glove.

When the mother saw the glove she blanched, her hand flying nervously to the cameo pinned to her collar.

"I desperately need to find the owner of this glove, my lady." Lowering his voice, Vincent continued, "I have been told that I may find this person here."

"M... my good lord," the step-mother sputtered. "I do believe this glove belongs to my daughter, Drusilla." Offering Vincent a handful of lies, the mother pushed Dru in front of Vincent and gave him a toothy grin. "Let her try it on and you will see that it's hers."

Without waiting for the lord to hand her the glove, the mother pulled it out of his hand and gave it to Dru.

"Mother," Dru hissed as she tried to slip the black glove on. "It does not fit." Try as she might, she could not squeeze her hand into the delicate glove.

"Enough!" Lord Vincent seized the glove and scowled at both the mother and Dru. "I do not think it belongs to you. Now, is the rightful owner of this fine glove here?"

Anger pulled the mother's lips into a tight line. With a haughty look, she pointed at Elmira while Vincent shook his head. "Then I do not know," she snapped. Gesturing to the glove as though it were a smelly fish, she lied, "I do not know whose glove this is."

From around the corner, a pair of melancholy eyes peeked out. With their back to him, the step-family didn't notice Kylo was hiding behind the kitchen door. When Vincent caught sight of him, the young man touched his finger to his lips and shook his head mournfully.

Though the house was ill-lit, Vincent noticed Kylo's tear-streaked cheeks and fresh, red cuts which slithered out of the collar of his wide-neck shirt. Drawing a deep breath, Vincent breathed in the familiar scent of Kylo's blood. A scent that could be easily concealed had no one dared draw blood. Under breast and bone, Vincent felt a spasm bring him to life. He wanted to grab Kylo and flee the house like a criminal but he knew any sort of rescue would have to wait.

Lowering his eyes to let Kylo know he would remain silent for now, Vincent spoke. "Then I have wasted your time long enough, fair ladies. Excuse me for intruding on your evening."

As the woman called him to stay, all Vincent heard was a cacophony of ugly sounds that reminded him of the chirping of hyenas. Mounting his horse, the lord dug his heels into the animal's side and tore into the welcoming maw of night. Riding further away, Vincent felt his heart stop beating.

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