Release

Elliot looked at the looming manor as the car pulled to a stop. Everything in England seemed foreboding to Elliot, a small North Carolinian upbringing in tow, but the Jasperwell House outdid all the others. Four stories tall, it stretched across the green fields like an ancient gate barring the way to the Promised Land. The east half of the manor bore a black stain from a fire in the mid 1800s. Though structurally repaired the Dowager Jasperwell insisted the char and soot remain as a constant reminder to her staff. The west half of the building, on the other hand, looked well kept. Elliot hoped the library would be in the west, but knew he would be disappointed.

"

Are you sure you mean to stay on, young sir?" the cabman asked. "Not to speak out of turn, but its not a place of good luck by any measure."

"

I assure you, I won't stay a minute longer than necessary. Besides, we Americans gave up on superstition a while ago."

"

All the same, I'll loiter at the lower gate for a while in case you need transport back to London. The missus doesn't like when I come home early."

Elliot thanked the man, grabbed his hat and bag, and stepped out into the small plaza before the manor house. No one worked in the gardens, no troop of footmen trotted out to greet him. For all its size, the Jasperwell House seemed entirely deserted. Most would assume it suffered the attrition of staff as was common after the Great War, but Elliot knew better. He shuffled through his pocket for the letter of introduction he'd received and approached the door. It opened as he raised his hand to knock.

"

Yes, yes, what is it?" asked a young woman. Her eyes fixed on Elliot and narrowed. "Beg pardon, I expected you to be one of the tenants carousing around to find Captain Jasperwell."

Elliot's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. The woman was gorgeous. Every other servant he'd met in the past four months had been a work wearied soul with cold eyes and little patience for his lack of sensibility. The woman before him looked as though she'd stepped from the window of a dress shop. She wore a dark red dress which clung to her fulsome frame. Her hair spun into a tight bun sitting on the top of her head while wide eyes of gleaming hazel looked back at him with curiosity. He managed to unjam his mouth, "Uh, no pardon needed. I'm Elliot Shaw." He fumbled to hand the letter over to her. Her delicate hands slipped it from his fingertips as she opened it quickly to read. "I've gained Ian...uh, Captain Jasperwell's permission to use his library."

Her eyes darkened. "The Captain allowed that?" she asked. Her eyes cut toward the east side of the house as her pleasant smile drooped. "Very well, Mr. Shaw. Please come in." She stood aside as he walked into the echoing house. He took off his hat and stood idle in the antechamber as the woman closed and latched the door behind them. "I am Miss Gray, Maddie Gray. For reasons beyond my understanding, Captain Jasperwell left me in charge of the manor in his absence. We do not have much in the way of staff on hand, but we will —"

"

Please, no, no need to go to any trouble on my account. I have no need to stay overlong. Captain Jasperwell promised me a bed, a warm meal or two, and access to the library, that is all. I urge you to suspend any other idea of comfort on my part. Except perhaps, company from time to time."

It was Maddie's turn to blush. Her cheeks turned a shade slightly lighter than that of her dress. "We do maintain some standards, Mr. Shaw. Perhaps I can show you the library while I have a room drawn up for you. Ah, Kenneth, could you see to Mr. Shaw's bag."

A grey templed man in bloused pants and a vest tramped into the room. Sweat beaded at his brow, but he smiled pleasantly. "Of course, Miss."

Maddie continued her instructions. "Find Elizabeth. Have her prepare the Turquoise room for a guest. It's probably in the best shape and has a lovely view of the northern garden. After, head down to the kitchen and let Mrs. Hart know we have a guest staying with us. I apologize Mr. Shaw, we won't have a meal service, but we can lay out your breakfast and supper in the main dining room, nonetheless. Mrs. Hart is an excellent cook. We can at least keep you from starving." She gave Kenneth a nod, and he flitted away with Elliot's bag. "If you'll follow me."

She walked through the antechamber of the house to the main entry where a narrow staircase led up to the second floor. On either side of the stairs, large statues of Zeus and Poseidon stood watch. Maddie didn't give Elliot the chance to indulge his awe at seeing such marvelous works of sculpture inexplicably contained in a manor house. Instead, she walked past Zeus into a long, breezy corridor with rooms on either side. It reminded Elliot of the larger college buildings back home. All that was missing was the smell of stale chalk. While the corridor did not look as clean or well kept as the foyer of the manor did, it bore no signs of the fire which charred the outside of the building. Halfway down the hall, Maddie stopped and pulled a ring of keys from her pocket. One slipped into the lock before her, and the door opened. She stood back and gestured for Elliot to enter.

The library smelled of old, dry books. His first thoughts went back to flame as he realized he was walking into a room full of ready tinder. Shelves jutted out toward the center, clearly additions made in the many long years since the manor's original construction. Maddie went to the far wall and began opening shutters and curtains, filling the room with daylight. "The electrics will be working by tomorrow. Kenneth disconnects them for the east side of the manor whenever the Captain is not in. I'll have the girls over to clean by tomorrow."

Elliot barely heard her. His fingers danced over the spines of books found no where else in the world so far as he knew. "Have you ever perused these shelves, Miss Gray?"

"

Maddie, if you please, sir," she said. "And no. The Captain is generous with his collection, of course, more generous than any household, I would suppose. But it's largely an empty offer. You'll be hard pressed to find anyone on the estate willing to spend more than ten minutes in this room, let alone read any of the books."

"

Superstition," Elliot muttered more to himself than Maddie.

"

Yes, one way of saying it. Genuine fear is another. I'll speak bluntly, Mr. Shaw. I'm happy to have a guest with us in the house, but having you in the library will give me no end of worry and nightmares."

"

If you are Maddie, then I will be Elliot. I am not a jot above you in any form of status imaginable. I will appreciate your hospitality, but I won't expect it because of a letter in my pocket. Agreed?"

"

Yes, Elliot," she said, blushing once again.

"

And be free of any nightmares. I am a scholar, not an occultist."

"

Captain Jasperwell's uncle would have told you the same," she said.

"

Did you know him? Hugo Jasperwell?"

Maddie laughed. "Oh, no, well before my time here. He's been dead now since a few years before the Great War started. Don't know the exact year, but I doubt you or I were born yet. Still, I grew up on the estate, same as the rest of us. We heard the stories of Mad Hugo, as our nans called him. Lovable man, they said, a little too much so. I bet half of them, our nans, would have sworn to have bedded him. I — uh, pardon, sir." She blushed a darker shade than usual.

Elliot could only smile. He noticed her speech became more clipped the longer she went from trying to treat him like one of the royal family. "It's no secret what Hugo got up to, Maddie. No sense being embarrassed by history. Nans, notwithstanding. The late Lord Jasperwell is well known in certain circles for his unusual proclivities. Why else would I be here?"

"

Gracious, you don't mean to say you're — that you share his proclivities?"

"

No, but I do study them. It's a great movement in America, you see. Well, it has the notion of a great movement." He frowned. "A whisper, perhaps. But there are great minds delving into the mystery of human sexuality. It is a multifaceted approach, certainly. I had a coffee with a fellow studying wasps who has a hunch I could be arrested for even suggesting. He has other ideas as well. All of us do. My approach, you see, is to find out the root of why the sexuality of man went extinct in the first place. The pagans didn't believe in sexual repression, you see. They had entire gods devoted to the idea of sexual pleasure. Our society, American society in particular, has inherited the ideas forced upon them by a variety of puritanical religions. Victorian standards were not much different, though they already pulsed a desire to rebel against repression. With what we're coming to understand about the human mind, thanks to contributions like that of Dr. Freud, such repression may not only be unwise, but unhealthy for society. Oh," he turned away from the books to look at her. "I apologize. I know it can be flustering to some to hear such frank discussion of these things."

"

Elliot, while I may not have spoken with this Dr. Freud, I am familiar with how the bull looks at the heifer, and no stranger to the secrets of this library. You've come to the one place in Britain where you will be shocked more than the local population at what you find in this library. Some of us may not approve, some of us may blush, but the ideas aren't foreign. For now, I will leave you to browse. Please be careful of the books, many are very old."

Without another word, she pivoted and left the room. Elliot's cheeks reddened as he watched the dress disappear out of the door.

***

Six days passed before Elliot figured out the shelving system. Half of the books were in languages he didn't speak, and the other half mixed in seemingly at random. It took Kenneth, who happened to be in the library repairing one of the lights, pointing out that the books seemed to get dustier toward one end of the library. Elliot realized they'd all be shelved by year of acquisition. Not much use for reference except for the memory of the person who did the shelving in the first place. At least, it helped Elliot understand the mind of Hugo Jasperwell a little better.

The library began with mass publications. Eccentric books in topic, but not in printing. After a few years, Hugo put his considerable wealth to tracking down rarer volumes of interest. By the end of his life, though, his focus seemed varied, as though he wanted to create a different legacy for his collection, but couldn't decide what. Elliot focused on the middle section, a trio of alcoves stacked with books from all over the world concerning ritualistic sex acts, pagan fertility rituals, and the occasional commentary on obscure societies and their views on sex.

He worked through them slowly, spending full days reading and making notes. After two weeks of their resident bookworm, Maddie took it upon herself to ensure Elliot's sanity, ushering him out of the library and house from time to time for walks in the gardens. Even with the dour visage of the manor house looking over the grounds, it was a beautiful place in full bloom of summer. The servants were few, but happy in their jobs. They imparted this happiness to Elliot as they grew accustomed to his presence. With Maddie's prodding, he came to appreciate the distractions from his work and sought out the others in the house more often. He spent time in the kitchens chatting with the cook and her helping maid. He worked with Kenneth seeing to the grounds occasionally. Most of all, he enjoyed his time with Maddie, even going so far as to convince her to sit with him for meals even if she would not eat.

At the beginning of his second month, Maddie did not present herself at all for the morning meal, meaning Elliot saw no one other than one of the maid girls. After finishing his breakfast, he realized for the first time as he made his way to the library, how oppressive the place could be. Not only the library itself, but the whole east side of the building. Nevertheless, he committed to his work and returned to the desk he'd maintained near the larger window in the library. At midday, Maddie arrived to bring him lunch. He could not help but ask, "Where were you this morning?"

"

The village. The Captain sends telegrams from time to time. News or instructions for the house."

"

Can they not come in the usual post?" Elliot asked, somewhat sourly. In the short while he'd known her, Elliot had been unable to ascertain the exact relationship she had with her employer. He did not know much about service, but doubted a woman as young as Maddie was often entrusted a house the size of Jasperwell. It did not evade his sensibility that he also had become jealous of Maddie's time and attention.

She finished putting out the tray of sandwiches, smoothed out her dress, another overly tight bodice of emerald, and crossed her hands in her formal posture. "No. They likely should not come at all." She pursed her lips and made a change of topic, "You never mentioned how you came to know Captain Jasperwell."

Elliot shrugged, "I sought him out. Pestered him in the smoking lounges of London until he gave me his leave to this library."

"

And in that pestering, did he speak of the old maid he left to run his house?"

"

Maddie, you are hardly old, and surely a maiden by choice as you are surely pret—"

"

A fool's choice," she said, cutting him off. Her usual good cheer and composure cracked. "Captain Jasperwell has extended his stay in London indefinitely. Apparently we're to expect war by the end of the year, if not the end of the summer. Perhaps, Elliot, it would be best for you to conclude your work in a similar hurry. However we fare, I imagine travel to become much less convenient, and I couldn't bear to discomfort you with our inadequate lodgings."

Before he could say anything, she left the room, shutting the door behind her with force. Elliot snatched up one of the sandwiches and chomped into it, unsure why he was upset.

Women

, he thought.

What did she hope for?

To become the mistress of this manor?

Ian is more than fifteen years her senior and certainly not looking to marry for love.

Or lust, for that matter, from what I've heard about him and his 'valet'.

He looked down at the food.

Am I any better?

The one woman who shows me kindness on this whole damned island, and I become some petulant child about her time.

She's right.

I should finish and be gone, war or not.

***

The amiable atmosphere continued to diminish around the manor over the next week. Kenneth still came round to chat, but Elliot thought it more of worry than of friendship. Maddie's news about war spread quickly. Not that many suspected otherwise from the tensions, but it was one thing to expect and another to all but know. Elliot, meanwhile, either through lack of socialization or the complexity of his work, grew more irritable by the day. He discovered an idea running through the majority of the texts which excited him at first, but unnerved him the more he read.

Spirits or gods or demons, the idea varied on the nature of the beings' existence. Hugo's notes referred to them as the Deviancies. The former Lord Jasperwell considered these entities to be mischievous rather than malicious, but stressed that each had a personality adequately described as insane. While chasing this line of thought through the library's tomes, Elliot came the end of one of the three stacks which he'd concerned himself with. The next set of books in the library's sequence diverged into narratives of safari trips to Africa. Curious as to what would cause such a sudden break in the library, Elliot went to review the last few books, hoping to find something he missed. When retrieving one from the shelf, he heard a peculiar hollow sound as his hand rested on the wood. He saw the shelves had been carved to resemble books laid on their side. Except one was not a carving at all. The book sat so perfectly in the shelf as to be indistinguishable even after a moment of staring right at it. Dumbstruck, Elliot gripped the spine and pulled, a heavy tome sliding out of the compartment with little resistance.

The book's cover bore large cracks on its covering. Elliot didn't want to guess what type of material would become so brittle with age. Carefully, he brought the book to the desk and sat it down. The electric lights overhead flickered slightly, not an uncommon occurrence, but an unsettling one nonetheless. The sun had disappeared behind dark storm clouds. If the electricity went out, Elliot would be hard pressed to find his way out of the room let alone back to his quarters. Before opening the book, he considered leaving it till morning, not only because of the vile feeling in his gut whenever he touched it, but also because of his deference to Jasperwell. Whatever the book contained, it was likely a worthwhile find if Hugo had chosen to keep it hidden.

Curiosity won out. He opened the book, grimacing at the feeling of the cracked covering under his fingertips. The pages themselves were no better, a thick waxy material upon which dark stains made words.

Here I record the truth of what I've done, the madness and derangement I have risked.

What good is it to record folly?

Why not destroy the thing altogether?

I do not know.

Perhaps it cannot be destroyed.

Perhaps it compels this confession from me.

How can I know what my own mind wills?

How can I know this is not some new perversion of hers?

I can know only what I have done.

I must believe I did it out of my own machinations, not hers.

For otherwise, I will go mad.

Reader, stop here.

Return this book to its place of obscurity.

Forget its existence.

Do not damn yourself.

"

Elliot?"

Maddie's voice caused his heart to jump to his throat. "Good Christ, woman, why have you sneaked up on me?" Instinctively, his hands went to cover the book.

The acting mistress of the house folded her hands. The cheery bloom in her cheek had faded in the past week. "A storm is coming. Kenneth is certain we will lose the lights. I did not want to have to fetch you from a collapsed stack of shelves, so I came to fetch you now. What's that you have there?"

Elliot reluctantly revealed his discovery. "I found it set in a secret compartment in one of the shelves. I've only just started to read it. Forgive me, Maddie, I didn't mean to shout, but as you well know this place can put one on edge. This book, too, has a certain unpleasantness about it."

She stepped closer and looked over his shoulder to read the small passage. "Did Lord Jasperwell write that? Is the page a piece of skin?"

Elliot's lip curled. As long as he didn't outright think it, he could have pretended otherwise. "Yes, and...yes. It's a curious volume. He sounds on the brink of madness."

"

You should put it back," she said, a note of worry in her voice.

He laughed, "Don't be silly. Plenty of old books have strange warnings to the readers. They considered the knowledge too arcane to be handled by inadequate minds. It's common in occultist literature." In a fit of idiotic bravery, he turned to the next page. It held a strange series of glyphs laid on top of each other. "See, there's not even much to read." He turned another page to find a page scrawled in a single Latin phrase. "Huh," he muttered. The words filled his mind, almost pushing out of his lips, but he instinctively clamped his hand over his mouth. Maddie, though, did not. A phrase she did not understand danced on her lips in a rapid, urgent whisper as her eyes flicked back and forth across the page. As Elliot understood what she was saying, he thought, almost humorously, that the warning had for once been true.