A Treacherous Curse

Because there is no power on earth that could make me abandon our friendship. There is no deed you could confess so dark that it would make me forsake you. You said of us once that we were quicksilver and the rest of the world mud. We are alike, shaped by Nature in the same mold, and whatever that signifies, it means that to spurn each other would be to spit in the face of whatever deity has seen fit to bring us together. We are the same, and to leave you would be to leave myself.

Boys!” I said sharply. “There will be no brawling with your shirts on. Kindly remove your upper garments and give them into my keeping.” Both men turned to look at me, wearing identical expressions of astonishment. Mornaday spoke first. “I beg your pardon?” I adopted my best nanny tone—one that I had used with excellent results to bring unruly suitors to heel. “You cannot strike an opponent properly while hampered by a tight coat,” I pointed out. “Or a fitted waistcoat. And white does show the blood so badly. The shirt must come off as well.” I put out my hands. “Come on, then. Shirts off, both of you. Shall you fight to first blood or unconsciousness? I always think first blood is a little lacking. Let’s go until one of you is entirely senseless, shall we?

Stoker to Veronica. I thought it was love but I was so very wrong. I have never known love at least not until..... I thought at some point I would have a great love like that. A woman fashioned by the gods just for me as I had been made just for her. That we would find each other. That she was waiting for me but I did not wait for her. I married a base metal when the gods had  promised me gold.

Because we are the same,” I burst out. “You are not the only one of us with bloodied hands and a death on your conscience,” I reminded him, not bothering to disguise my anger. “Why must you do this? Why must you test me?” The tight muscle in his jaw relaxed into slackness. “I did not think to test you.” “Yes, you did. You do it every time you find yourself in danger of relying too much upon me, or hadn’t you noticed? You are so afraid of depending upon another soul that you will burn down your own house rather than risk someone else doing it. You are so determined to believe that your wounds make you less than human that you think yourself a monster when others are merely men. And whatever this bond that is between us, whatever this thing is that makes us akin to one another, you do not trust it. Because you do not trust yourself. But I am tired of the games, Stoker. And I am tired of your little monstrosities when I have atrocities of my own to account for.

Mrs. de Morgan- How can you stand to be near him now that you know he has taken a life? Veronica- Because, Mrs. de Morgan, I have taken two.

Will it ever be perfect?” I wondered. “No,” he told me with a smile. “Nothing in life is. But, my dear mademoiselle, life is not about achievement. It is about the effort. If one takes pleasure in every step, one enjoys the whole journey.

I ran a finger over the seal, tracing the letters of the motto. ALIS VOLAT PROPRIIS. She flies with her own wings.

You fight harder for me than you would ever do for yourself. Why?” “Because there is no power on earth that could make me abandon our friendship. There is no deed you could confess so dark that it would make me forsake you. You said of us once that we were quicksilver and the rest of the world mud. We are alike, shaped by Nature in the same mold, and whatever that signifies, it means that to spurn each other would be to spit in the face of whatever deity has seen fit to bring us together. We are the same, and to leave you would be to leave myself.

Hunting butterflies requires an oblique approach. If one charges them directly, they flit away, mapping a mazy, elusive path until they disappear from sight with a final flap of jeweled, defiant wings. But if one is cunning and careful, it is possible to approach them so subtly they do not realize you are upon them until the net descends. The trick is move with them, parallel but not intersecting, guiding them gently to a suitable landing spot where they can be captured without injury. The timing is all. Hurry them and they will bolt. Dawdle and they will dart away after some tasty sip of nectar. It requires patience, skill, and resolve - qualities I had in abundance and which Stoker would give me ample opportunity to exercise.

Self-pity is a gutter from which you will never arise. Do you know how hard I have worked to keep your head above the mud? But I was not the one who rescued you, you impossible fool. You were half-alive when I met you, a ruin of the man you could be. I have watched you claw your way back to life in the past months, taking an interest in your work, in your future. You have been the agent of your own resurrection, and you do not even see it. Have you no sense of your own gifts, of your own strengths? You are more blessed with natural abilities and native intelligence than any man I have ever met.

I had long since discovered upon my travels that men are largely the same no matter where one encounters them. And if one is prepared to let them discourse on their pet topics of conversation, one can generally get on with things quite handily without any interference.

What was it that Napoleon said, my lady? ‘Impossible is a word only to be found in the dictionary of fools.

You rise from your bed every day on two strong legs and can think only to complain that someone once spoke harshly to you.

...life is not about achievement. It is about the effort. If one takes pleasure in every step, one enjoys the whole journey.

whilst I reboarded my train of thought.

It is seldom that a gentleman raises the subject of sewage so early in a conversation, I reflected.

Do you know what sort of trouble you are courting?” “Courting?” I gave him a scornful look. “I married it long ago. As our favorite detective, Arcadia Brown, would say to her faithful Garvin, ‘Excelsior!

Have you ever looked a starving beggar in the eye and thought that the privileges you enjoy are nothing more than a whim of the cosmos?

tracing the letters of the motto. ALIS VOLAT PROPRIIS. She flies with her own wings.

Yes, you did. You do it every time you find yourself in danger of relying too much upon me, or hadn’t you noticed? You are so afraid of depending upon another soul that you will burn down your own house rather than risk someone else doing it. You are so determined to believe that your wounds make you less than human that you think yourself a monster when others are merely men. And whatever this bond that is between us, whatever this thing is that makes us akin to one another, you do not trust it. Because you do not trust yourself. But I am tired of the games, Stoker. And I am tired of your little monstrosities when I have atrocities of my own to account for.

I have seen enough of the world to know that women can scratch and claw and fight just as fiercely as men for what they want. Perhaps more.

Veronica to Stoker: "Does this mean you will stop torturing me by displaying yourself in various states of undress?

in that moment I would have sold my soul to a tinker to be anywhere else.

You have been the agent of your own resurrection, and you do not even see it. Have you no sense of your own gifts? Of your own strengths? You are more blessed with natural abilities and native intelligence than any man I have ever met. You are a savage miracle, Revelstoke Templeton-Vane, knit together by the hands of nature herself. You cannot see it. In your mind, you are Sampson shorn of his hair, and Caroline has been your Delilah. Very well! Mourn what you have lost and pull down the temple on top of yourself. I will not weep for you! But neither will I watch you do it!” He stared at me in frank astonishment. His mouth open. After a long moment, he spoke, forcing the words out slowly, with obvious effort. “I hardly know what to say to that.

For all your sins, Revelstoke, and they are legion, you are a gentleman born and bred. You will not desert a lady in distress. It would be a violation of eight hundred years of breeding.

Heaven help us if we are not better observers than the police,” I retorted. “We are scientists, trained in the art of observation,” I reminded him. “So what do we observe here?” He sighed,

There is nothing more you can do to hurt me now. You have already broken the man you knew, crucified every part of my humanity and left me with nothing except the ruins of what I once was. Why do you look away? Have you developed a conscience? What a burden it must be to you.

Egypt,” Stoker pointed out acidly, “is not filthy. It was once the cradle of civilization. I would suggest you read a book, but I am not entirely certain of your ability to do so.

I found it winsome that such a hardened man of the world could have gained so much experience as scientist, explorer, natural historian, naval surgeon, and taxidermist and still manage a maidenly blush when confronted with a fertility icon.

Veronica.” He had uttered my name a thousand times, but never before had it sounded like a prayer. “There are things I should tell you.