Ever so slowly, Sir Henry's residence grew on the horizon, bouncing lousily in Edward's viewpoint. The door, enshrouded by the grape vines anchoring to the wood, eerily stood still. He imagined Veronica standing at the edge of the stairs, calling out to him. Edward let out a rapturous knock. The door creaked open with energy. Edward held his breath as he saw the beautiful Veronica appear before him.

"Edward?" My Lord! The sound of my name on her lips is sophisticated! "Can I help you with anything?"

"Your—your—" He didn't know how to tell what he wanted to say started to sound ridiculous. "I want you to come with me."

"What?" Veronica tilted her chin away from him. Her voice was very questionable on his behalf. "Why?"

"Let's go for a walk!" He decided on the spot.

"Are you all right?"

"I was afraid I turned into a vampire last night." His words spilled out from his mouth with a heaviness he couldn't quite explain.

The silence was deafening as he waited for her response. "Well," Veronica stated, neither confirming nor denying Edward's worry. "I see you're not burning in the sun now. That's a good sign, right?"

"Quite right, Miss Veronica. But I see you don't like my idea of strolling down the road to the lake over yonder." Edward held his hand out for Veronica to take.

Holding his breath, Edward watched Veronica let go of the door and walk down the step. Her feet first licked the edge of the sunny spot until it rose steadily up her thin blue dress with a defiant lean into the soft light, her face lit up.

"What's your worry about me?" She took his arm lightly.

"Oh," He turned, gazing to look innocently at the trees, "Nothing! Nothing at all!"

Come to me, Veronica. . . A low voice resonated in Veronica's chest. She heard it miles away from Henry's and was going back home.

"Where are you off to?" Edward puzzled.

Veronica kept walking, "I have to go back. Master needs me."

"See! There it is again! You just said master. What is your relation to that vampire?"

"I'm his familiar." She announced. "I sold my soul for eternal life." Turning away so she couldn't see Edward's reaction, Veronica sped up her pace to what she deemed normal. Edward rushed to keep up with her.

"How old are you? Where are you really from? Is Veronica even your real name? What about Henry? How did he turn?"

Edward bombarded her with a million questions all at once. "Edward! Please! One at a time!"

"How old are you?"

"25."

"No, I mean, how old are you really?"

Veronica paused, "I died in 1617, so you do the math."

"H—how?" Edward's eyes marveled at her young figure.

"Dysentery officially. Unofficially, I was able to make it back home to my village from England, actually, where vampires brutally murdered and burned my people." Veronica kept her head down as she talked, keeping a few steps before Edward.

"I'm. I'm sorry to hear that." He softly said.

"No matter, I never properly knew my mother." Veronica realized she was digging deeper into her history than she liked. "No matter, then." She waved away the conversation with a flick of her hand. "What about you, Edward? Where are you from?"

"Here—England—London, actually." He walked up to Veronica's side. "I grew up in the city, not too rich but not exactly poor either." He huffed. "Several years ago, my godparents set Lucy and me up for marriage, and so be it, I decided." He was never fond of her despite being fond of everyone and everything.

"Have you ever been in love?"

"What?" Edward looked up to Veronica's eyes. "In... Love?" He smiled and gave out a little laugh, "No—well—yes—but it's rather silly, and I don't want to talk about it." Edward pressed his lips together to hide his smile. "It's also rather complicated."

"Oh—I see." Veronica smiled lovely, reaching for the door to Henry's cottage. "Well, we should see to the lake another time."

"Oh, yes, definitely. Maybe for tea at my estate in a few days. This weekend?"

Veronica stood above him now on the steps, "I'd like that." She swooned, dipping down to press her lips to his head. She ruffled his golden, fluffy hair.

Edward laughed nervously, watching the door close, covering Veronica as she disappeared behind the wooden frame.

~~~~~~~~~

The wind rustled the trees, shaking the leaves to brush against the house, almost caressing it. Henry was blushed and bothered as he watched Veronica step into the light and wander down the path with Edward. That blonde Englishman never knew the struggles of being trapped in this cage. He couldn't do anything to prevent Veronica from leaving this fine and dandy afternoon: the sun was out.

He huffed as he tried to summon her back, back into his arms and into his life. It should have been a perfect opportunity for Veronica to lose her love interest in him, focus on another man, and forget about Henry so that she could live longer than her contract.

For, as the Lady Fenring, an old oracle he knew since he was a boy, had told him that Veronica's life rested on the fact that the contract to be his familiar was the only thing keeping her from going to hell.

No, Henry thought, there are a few hundred years left—she didn't have to lose all respect for him now, just later.

Come back to me, Veronica. . .

Henry watched as she kept on down the road.

Come back. . .

Come to me, Veronica. . .

Her gait came to slow as she bounced to a halt. Henry saw as she spun around and came bounding back up the hill.

Perfect.

Behind the door, Henry hid from the light as it entered past Veronica's silhouette. He peered out the window to see Edward loiter around for his appearance.

"Yes, master?" She bent over backward for him, showing every last little bit of love she was capable of.

Henry grumbled. He meant for no one (and not even himself) to be loved by her, but now he was condemning her to hell, and that made him feel horrible. God, make up your damn mind, Henry!

Henry pushed the door closed as Veronica, startled by his sudden appearance, turned away from the front.

"I say: you're worse than I am. First, you've killed a man, and now you're committing adultery." Henry stalked forward, crowding Veronica into a corner, "What else do you suppose for, hmm? I suppose you'll deny it and then be caught in going against another commandment."

"I—I—" There was the Veronica Henry knew: startled, amazed, maybe even scared at him knowing everything about her life.

He chuckled, "I certainly wasn't born yesterday, Luv."

"I." Veronica recollected herself, standing up straight and fixing her dress, "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. If you're saying I'm with Edward, you would be mistaken. Edward must only see me in a way I don't see him."

"Ahhh... Is that so?" He chuckled as he could feel the emotions rolling off Edward's loving need for anyone. And it appeared so that that even included Henry.

Veronica changed the subject and bent to the table to clean, "Edward has invited you to a picnic, a small tea party, I suppose this weekend."

"Ooo." Henry clicked his tongue, "I'm afraid we're going to the horseback riding that day."

"Since when?" Veronica asked.

"Since I decided just now."

"Well, that's not fair."

"Fair is fair, Luv, now, there's a mess inside the master bedroom, a feast I had a few hours ago. Be a dear and see to it, would you now?"

"Yes, sir," Veronica said with a slight disappointment.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was a partially cloudy day at the archery camp where Henry and Edward were shooting arrows across the green. Veronica stood close to Henry and held her parasol to block the sun.

"I don't see the purpose of having that thing over him constantly," Edward remarked as he sent an arrow soaring. It hit the target with a resounding thwa-ting. "It seems a bit much, doesn't it?"

Neither Henry nor Veronica answered. Changing the subject, since Veronica feared that Henry would figure out Edward knew of his condition, she spoke up,

"What happened to horseback riding this afternoon, hmm, sir?"

Henry aimed his bow at the farthest target several hundred meters away and let go. With a chachink of the bow, letting the arrow fly, zipped past Edward's arrow and into the target behind right dead center.

"I don't own any horses," He noted, portraying himself the modest man he tried to be, "And the people I knew who owned them were using them this fine weekend." He loaded another arrow and let it loose without a proper recoil. The arrow flopped to the ground, resting easily in the grass. "To answer your question, Edward." Henry turned to him with his bow to the ground, adjusting his round steampunk sunglasses that rested at the bridge of his nose so that they covered his eyes. In the hot sun, both men dawned trousers and their white-breasted shirts. Veronica, again in her white dress. "I have a terrible skin condition, and if it weren't for Veronica here, I'd be sick as a clam."

"Sick as a dog, sir," Veronica whispered.

"What? What'd I say?"

"You said sick as a clam, sir."

Henry flicked his hand in repugnance. "I don't care for your corrections."

Edward rolled on his heels back and forth, knowing full well not to argue with someone capable of draining his heart in ten seconds flat.

"Tell me, Edward," Henry let another arrow fly, "What is it your parents do?"

"Don't answer that, Edward," Veronica interjected, worried for his family's health.

"No," Edward reassured Veronica with a pat on her shoulder, "It's okay. My parents are dead. You see: I'm an orphan."

Veronica and Henry turned to Edward with frozen statures.

"Do go on, Edward," Henry asked inquisitively. He dropped his bow to his side and gave Edward his full and complete attention.

"Well, you see, my parents died. . . I'm not quite sure how, but I only suppose they're dead because my godmother and godfather found me on their front porch. You see. They were well-to-do Yeoman, but I. You see, they sent me off with Lucy whose family owned several hundred acres and then houses in the city." He held his hands out, clasping them nervously together.

"Not to worry, Edward," Henry boasted, placing his gloved hand on Edward's shoulder, "I'm a freeloader myself. The land is rich and fertile with wealth, that you'll see." He nodded, giving Edward a fair smile.

"That's. That's rather comforting that you're so modest, Sir Henry," Edward mumbled. He blushed at Henry's comment and soft touch.

Henry let another arrow fly.

Chapter 4

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