The Lovers of Life

CHAPTER IX - THE DUKE, THE EARL AND THE VAMPIRE

"I always thought you'd be the one to leaveThe one to change your mind"

Pink Water 2 – Alice & June - Indochine

Years had gone by since I had found the bracelet. My crises had grown more and more distant, because I was protected by the magic of the silver bracelet. I wore it at all times and no one said anything about it. Maybe they couldn't see it. Sometimes I feared Lusaka's voice. He often talked to me when I least expected it and he never answered my calls. I didn't know if he even heard my calls because I didn't know how he managed to communicate with me directly into my head. However I was reassured because I now knew I wasn't raving mad: Eva was able to eavesdrop and she heard fragments of what he told me. And she could see the bracelet, even though no one else could.

The Villa had never appeared pleasanter and I studied harder than ever with Madame Irène. With the years, Irène became like a mother to my sister and I – Victor had lost two mothers and did not wish to lose another: Irène was his friend. Irène loved us and took care of us. She also took good care of Eva, whom she always treated kindly, and of Sir Philippe who moved in after his parent's death.

Victor had married his beloved Lydia four years ago. The wedding had been grand. No one could have wanted more: the match was perfect. Victor was a kind and caring. She was a beautiful creature, like a fragile and magical flower. She was hardly eighteen when they married, but her parents had not a fear in the world for they had known Victor for ages. They felt lucky that Victor's mother had wanted him to be betrothed to their Lydia so badly.

They now lived in our father's old town house – which had been falling in disrepair in the absence of inhabitancy. A little more than a year after the wedding had taken place, Lydia gave birth to a beautiful boy, named Romeo. I loved my nephew dearly. He was a sweet boy with his mother's green eyes and his father's blond hair. His cheeks were always pink and smiling. He liked to laugh and play and I spent countless hours with him whenever Victor and Lydia came to the Villa. Romeo was now almost three years old and his words ruled my daily life when they came. I cherished him so.

My beloved sister was also growing in beauty. She was now almost fifteen and already she kept in her diary a list of upstanding gentlemen – all had sworn eternal love... Her thick mane of blond hair fell to her hips and she always dressed in the latest fashion. There was a grace about her I knew I could never acquire, but I didn't really care. My father liked to bring Elsie to the Theatre and the Opera and she was invited to so many balls that she sometimes spent her evenings running from one gathering to another. She was very popular and kept many correspondences with other respectable young ladies. Even though she was a vivid talker, she couldn't listen and scarcely read. Her concerns were rather self-centered. And so were mine – they were centered on her.

I helped Elsie write to her dignified friends and finished the embroideries she was too impatient to complete. I played the pianoforte when she asked me to. I lived only to see her shine and admired. She was a masterpiece and I was the artist that had carved her so wonderfully into life. Eva often blamed me for not wanting my share of society and admirers too. But I didn't really care. I had a great friend, Eva, and she was better than all the superficial Mademoiselles of the world. And I had my Philippe, whom I expected to propose at my birthday, and whom I intended to accept. I sometimes felt slightly depressed when I'd been preparing Elsie for a ball, because when I next caught my reflection in a mirror, I could only notice my lack of charms. My eyes were annoyingly obvious, shining like small flames and my hair was blacker than the ink with which Elsie scribbled her fancy letters.