[sylvanSpider]

“Ah, yes! Here we go!” Simon exclaimed upon finding the back entrance, and happily unlocked at that! He resumed his whistling as though he had every right in the world to be there, because he did! He had business to attend to with a William Shaw, and told that he might find him here. It's really a matter of pressing business, it is, so when finding no answer, he decided to check on the inhabitants.

Simon Wegg made no attempts at silence whatsoever, and each footfall made as he wandered echoed through the halls, “Ms. Ward? Are you present? How about a Mr. Shaw?” Silence greeted him once more. When he was absolutely certain he was alone in the house, he decided to search. After all, why not? Something bad could have happened and old Ms. Ward might need his help!

His search led him through many rooms, most of which contained nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. A little dusty, perhaps, but that story would check out with an old widow living in a mansion much too large for one person to inhabit. He continued walking until he found rooms that appeared to be lived in, poking through doors until he found himself in a bathroom...one whose contents were rather intriguing indeed, for within it there was a tub of blood. The smell of copper hit his nose first, before he could even see it, and that was when his suspicions were confirmed. Ms. Ward was undeniably the vampire who he now chased, and Mr. William Shaw may as well be dead.

It was only a matter of time before they came across the body.

=-=-=-=

Emily had been beaming, but that beam froze as if suspended when she caught eyes with the woman. She'd never seen her before... and yet....and yet...it was if she knew her more intimately than any other human alive. As if she was once familiar with her thoughts and feelings, as if this woman had at one point been the most precious thing to her. Her heart caught in her throat until she shook her head as if trying to break free from her gaze. There was one other feeling that hung over when her eyes met the woman's. A feeling that hung black, dark.

A feeling of guilt.

She couldn't help bu feel as if she'd abandoned this woman who had been there through so much when she needed her most. But how can I feel this way about a woman I've only just seen?

“Miss Barker, have you taken ill?” the voice was that of young Rosamund who now stood directly in front of the referred, one dainty hand on the other's dainty shoulder, “You look terribly pale.”

“It's...it's nothing,” the former stammered, even as her eyes were following the back of the woman's head, “I'm fine, it's fine. See? I'm already up! I think you might have done too fine of a job with the corset this morning, Rosamund. Shall we continue?”