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It is a truth universally acknowledged that a senator’s daughter must be in want of some romp or another. However little known the neighborhood, men and women, may be to her, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of those living in Washington D.C. during the Congressional gay season, that said daughter was considered an interloper or insider no matter where she went.
Having a pick of gatherings from Senator Benton’s less than glamorous dinners and his trite diatribes on whatever had piqued his interest in the day’s session. She found that after dinner, when the men would back off to a parlor and smoke less than adequate cigars, that parlors don’t typically have doors, and the diatribe was brought on by the provocation of her father. She would laugh and excuse herself for her next call. Vice President Van Buren had some of the best dinner parties. Despite the crusade the administration thinks they’re on against her father and vice versa after clocking out Senator Henry Clay and Vice President Van Buren can be seen eating, smoking, drinking frequently in one another’s homes. Their opinions are never swayed in politics, though. Van Buren was charmed enough to invite her over every now and then, or if she knocked on his door on her promenade, he couldn’t say no after a laugh or two. He always served the best wine or the most succulent duck.
Her father has described her as just like him, but better. He would buy extra of the best snuff, drink, pipes, and make sure she had the latest fashion. He can’t stand to be second best in anything and he certainly would let no better version of him go without his standard. He would give her the latest gossip on Congress, like how Francis Preston Blair was definitely on his last leg this time, or what wines Daniel Webster had shipped in for his wine closet and asking her which one he should steal to mess with him. The sweet ones, of course.
The best parties to be at were the ones where her father and Senator Calhoun happened to be invited, whether on purpose of seeing them interact, or to try and politick a coalition, and by fate they show up. Sometimes their men know and don’t tell them but it was D.C. if there was a chance of political mucking it would be known by all parties involved before the sunset. The winter of the compromise saw them together quite often. Not least because her father was in better spirits than people thought he might be after losing an election two years prior, although his debut as a senator had everyone at his feet. She overheard the two say they were chocking up stuff for the press. They were actually making plans to gather as many votes against Jackson and his cronies as possible. The richest dinner parties this side of the Potomac will ever see, her father cackled from the parlor.
Being back in DC and her father scheming with a rival also meant she got to poke and prod her own Calhoun counterpart.
Unfortunately, the other night, when she snuck under Ms.Calhoun’s window, she was caught throwing pebbles at it, and was told to leave her alone. She was ill was all that she was told before the latch was very audibly locked on her.
Huffing, she was about to jump on the ledge and start arguing when Mr.Calhoun came in the room and after looking over his daughter jerked his head toward the window. She thought she moved her arm fast enough or was out of the light but he was looking right at her to the point her blood went cold and ran without looking back.
The next day she sent off a card to her friend.
I hear you have been very ill and are forbidden from venturing out. You must also be forbidden from writing dear friends who wish to be in your presence. If we cannot listen to politics and the ministering of Congress permit me to attend your sickbed. Get well and answer me.
Surprisingly she got a response a few hours later. It was well received as all that was planned for the day was her father and Senator Calhoun planning an upcoming dinner party for the Whigs. She shivered at the thought of Calhoun bringing up their encounter to him.
Thank you for your kind words. I have been ill, but at the receiving of your message I gained back some strength to answer you as you so urgently begged. Your presence would be welcome.
She snuck into the kitchen to steal some treats before making her way across the town. The back way, not risking even running into the senator. She flashed the calling card and was led into the lady’s room despite the hesitancy and cold sweat of the house.
The room was heavy and warm, the fire roaring with a ruddy glow and the lamp near the bed on and low. All natural light was obscured. The room had a smell of dried herbs over a sickly sweat. The curtains on the four poster bed were pulled back to show her friend pale and sunk into a mountain of pillows and quilts. The pillow cases looked fresh, a pile of discolored linens were in the corner.
Anna Maria Calhoun was pale and her hair was as neatly plaited as one could have it while ill. Yet her looks lost nothing, neither in the dark of the room, or the light of day that she remembered from their last meeting.
She held back a snide comment about it. She knew she would probably tear up if someone made a comment about her hair while she sweated out a fever even just to open conversation.
“One night, that’s all it takes for you to get antsy.”
“You think I’m not worried about you? You look deathly.”
Anna could still give her a grounding look. “I heard you were at my window last night. Papa almost caught you.”
“What did he call me this time?”
“He grumbled more about your father.”
She pouted. “What’s so wrong about wanting my good friend to come with me to a party?”
“You mean what’s so wrong about sneaking your good friend out and interloping at a party.”
“You think we’re good friends?”
That cracked a smile. She broke character and smiled back. Anna Maria quickly covered it with a cough after she was staring too long. Her mouth was a deep red. She cringed at the wheezing sound in Anna’s ribs. She flexed her hands, she didn’t know if Anna would want her to rub her back in this state and so long apart.
“I brought you some treats I found. I think there’s scones, a loaf, and oh my a cake.”
“You didn’t even look?”
“Does it matter?”
Anne invited herself on the bed and took out the best looking goody (the cake, well of course the cake, it had jam) and shoved it on the nightstand. Tubes and glass jars were piled high, some with red stains. An old wash basin was stained pink. She didn’t want to say anything but she hoped her friend wasn’t that sick. She broke off a piece and handed it to Anna.
She couldn’t help their legs from brushing, hers where she had it propped up, Anna’s from lying still, when handing over the cake. It sent a shiver and shock through her system and noticed Anna jumped at the contact. Eyes lighting up Anna quickly took the cake and seemed to will herself still. Anne settled down and let her leg linger. She felt so warm against Anna and her friend didn’t move away.
Poor thing, she must be burning up if she was starved for warmth.
Breaking off her own piece she chipmunked her next words. “You hear anything good lately?”
“Depends. What was the latest you heard?”
She smirked. “You just want to hear me talk, well I will amuse you. Did you hear about Amos Kendall falling up the steps of the Capitol?”
“I mean real news, Anne,” Anna rolled her eyes.
“Well tonight our fathers are finishing the guest list for this week’s dinner party. I think we’ll have a good run against Jackson. I heard Senator Webster come over but he just seemed upset at the coalition.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard him raise his voice in private.”
“Yes, well,” Anne coughed. “I hope you can make it over.”
“I will.” Her eyes shone.
Before her face betrayed her she dusted off the cake crumbs and thought about actually being a bedside attendant. She got fresh water and towels, feeling Anna’s eyes on her every movement, that confident gaze, and cleaned up the room a bit. Placing a cool towel on the woman’s forehead she could feel how clammy her friend was. The cloth smoothed out the furrow in her brow slightly and she fell back on her pillow with a sigh.
She needed fresh air the most. Pulling back the window curtains the sunlight barely reached into the room before she shut them again.
“No! No, close them!”
Anna threw her arms up and covered herself with the quilts. The fire roared and her breath was coming in waves.
“It’s closed, it’s closed.” Anne sat on the bed to soothe her. She stayed like that until Anna’s breath evened out. Rubbing her back one more time she made sure she was comfortable before slipping away. The house had grown still and stuffy, she let herself out. By the time she left the sun was almost below the horizon.
The light from the parlor told her Senator Calhoun was still over and her father’s cackles denoted a grand dalliance.
***************************************
Henry Clay’s face glowed under all the attention. Even Senator Calhoun by his side seemed to have a lighter countenance than she had ever seen on him. Before they opened the doors she saw her father smile ear to ear and lean into his colleague and excitedly whispered, “let’s get all the aid we can get!” A certain Clay air hung over the guest list and who they felt could be easiest to convert to an Anti-Jacksonian stance. It was Calhoun’s job to bring the Nullies with him, or make sure they were loyal to him. She watched her father work Nathaniel Silsbee to make sure Massachusetts didn’t go for Jackson, Webster seemed to have people on their toes. Her father didn’t seem upset anymore that he lost the last election, he was assured he would win the next one.
Dinner was seven courses and the best bottles of sherry, madeira, bourbon, brandy. Rolls, chicken, fish, ham, turkey, fruit, fruit pies, jams, jellies, butter, roasted root vegetables, and other gooey sides lined the table paired with the laughter and conversation that adorns a Clay dinner.
That was all in the background to her.
Sitting across from her she watched Anna Maria try to get through a conversation with Senator Pointdexter. Anna kept stealing glances and knocking her feet under the table. She smiled over her glass and nodded.
“Senator Pointdexter?”
“Ms. Clay! I’m sure you would love to add your voice to this conversation, pardon me.”
“I was quite interested but no, I think my father would wish to see you.”
“Oh, really? Well, I’m sorry but I must excuse myself.” He tipped his glass before calling to Clay senior who quickly scrambled from dropping his face.
Anna mouthed thank you.
It made Anne feel warm. She thought Anna might be pushing herself considering how she was bed ridden barely three days ago. Anna had barely eaten anything but she chocked that up to being wrapped in the conversation at their end of the table.
“Ladies and gentlemen, why don’t we enjoy some dancing!” Clay clapped. “Mrs.Smith I hear you are quite the musician!”
“That’s because you’ve heard me before.” Laughter erupted as Clay waved everyone into the prepped parlors.
“Are you up to it?” Anne asked lightly.
“I think I can handle watching senators tie their feet together.”
Anne always enjoyed that deadpan delivery.
There was better lighting in the parlors-turned-dance floor bringing out the light splattering of freckles along Anna’s cheekbones. Despite the warm light Anne felt a lump in her stomach at how pale Anna still seemed. She knew Anna wouldn’t dance, more than usual, and swallowed her excitement at the prospect to stand by her friend.
Margaret Smith started up a tune from a song book that she thought was a reel she was taught. She should probably practice again.
Clay was the first one to ask a lady for a dance to kick off the song. Others quickly joined him whether they could walk straight or not. Senator Mangum was talking more about how bad he was at dancing rather than trying to shape up, Mrs. Smith started to hit the keys harder to drown him out. Calhoun stood off to the side trying to make conversation with Samuel Southard as Frelinghuysen batted off offers of dance.
“How could you not want to join that?”
“I’m good,” Anna sneered.
“With me, then,” she batted her eyes.
“You’d trip before we even get onto the floor.” Anna’s teeth caught in the lamplight. They looked sharp and had a coolness that reminded her of pearls. Teeth that might’ve jumped from the gothic novels Anna would read to her on occasion.
“Sharp.”
Anna jumped. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, uh, your teeth are sharp.”
Anna’s eyebrows furrowed, she cleared her throat and fixed her collar as a heavy silence fell over the two of them.
“Thank you,” Anna ducked her head.
Anne hummed. She drummed her fingers on her glass and she wished she had something else to do with her hands. Thankfully the song ended, sloppy dancing started up again, and they returned to jeering at the old senators and going back and forth on how this party would bring down King Jackson.
The moon had passed its zenith by the time they bade everyone goodnight. Her father had grown pale by the time they bid the Calhouns a stiff goodbye.
She finally had the time to answer Julia’s call from the other day. She had pouted at having to join her father at another dinner the night of the party. Something about how her father was in one of his moods where he can’t even stand to hear Senator Clay breathe. It wasn’t all bad, the foreign ministers bring really good food.
She made sure Anna came along and got some fresh air and sunlight. Anna stressed that they must get the good table by the fireplace if they were going to the cafe. She tucked the blanket deeper with an “of course,” as they bumped along the streets.
“Why couldn’t you just sneak out? We missed you.”
“I still haven’t found which floorboards creak and which ones don’t. Either way he seems to know who I keep company with.”
Anne smirked as she popped a bit of scone in her mouth.
“Anna, are you sure you’re feeling better? You’re all buttoned up to the chin.” Julia pushed Anna’s tea closer to her.
“I am, I promise,” she took the cup. “It is also winter.”
“If you say so. It is good to see you again, I won’t count my sickbed visit, you had quite the fever. I think you’ll want to keep your health up this looks like it will be quite the session.”
“I agree. Not least because of her,” Anna motioned her head towards Anne. Smiling behind her cup she quickly added, “Ms. Clay here almost got caught by my father.”
“Anna!”
Julia slapped the table, “No way!”
“Quiet, quiet! And don’t say that like your father isn’t scary, my blood went cold.”
“Papa isn’t scary.”
“He’s kinda freaky looking, Anna.” Julia patted the woman’s hand.
“I was going to sneak her out to join us and he almost caught me climbing on the window ledge.”
Julia covered her mouth but Anne could still see a smile poking out. She motioned for Julia to get it out and laughed with her.
“That’s why you looked spooked, oh Anna you should’ve seen her, she acted like a wet cat. I didn’t know why she was so jumpy, it's not like she hadn’t raised Mr. Van Buren’s table before.”
Anna barked out a laugh at the last comment and quickly covered it up with a cough. That was going to come back to bite her in some way Anne could feel.
“That night was awful. Anna, you wouldn’t believe it! Julia got hit in the chest by a little bat! I know there’s a lot in the city but,” Anne shrugged her shoulders. Anna stiffened.
“That poor thing was so cold. It did get stuck in my bosom so I mean what else was I supposed to do.”
Anna rubbed her temple.
“Mr. Grundy could’ve kept his comments about your height to himself, remember he’s just jealous, dear.” Anne tapped her spoon against her teacup. “Can I tell you guys something? You can’t laugh about it though.”
Anna raised a brow and Julia leaned in.
“Quite the non sequitur from a bat running into Jules.”
“No, no, no it goes with it, I swear. I had the worst dream,” Anne had lowered her voice to avoid the prying eyes and ears of the cafe’s patrons. The city talks and before you sink into sleep everyone and everything has your business jotted down.
“It couldn’t have been but three or four in the morning and I was awoken by a bat flying into my window over and over again, as if it was trying to break in. It frightened when it saw me approach the window and squeaked before flying off. I double checked the latch.”
Anna and Julia exchanged concerned looks. Anna set her lip.
“I went back to sleep but it wasn’t long before I felt a warm presence creeping up my body, pressing against me, a weight that took my breath away. Eventually it sat on my chest and I saw two bright eyes and sharp teeth in the moonlight before I turned on my lamp and it shrank back into the shadows. The light showed my window was open.”
Anna went more pale if that was possible and Julia grabbed her hands.
“It looked just like your teeth!” Anne grabbed Anna’s cheeks and pointed her friend to Julia. “Julia, have you seen her chompers!” They weren’t as sharp as they looked to her last night but still seemed inhumanely long. She almost tapped her finger on them.
“Oh my!”
“I will bite you.” Anna’s ears grew red. She glared as Julia reached out a hand to mirror Anne’s actions before she slunk it back to her side. Anna batted Anne’s hands away and crossed her arms. “They’re perfectly normal.”
“But then.” Anne fiddled with the top buttons of her dress. She slid her tongue across her teeth. “I woke up with this.” She put her back to the crowd and Julia took her cue to block too. Anne thought against it before yanking the cloth down her throat to reveal two circular scars lining her neck. Still a raw pink, the surrounding skin looked cold and blue. She pressed her neck, she couldn’t stop messing with it all morning, and it only felt a little sore now. She looked between her friends who were sharing creases in their brows.
Julia grabbed her and pulled her closer, a feathering touch hovering over her neck. Anna checked her face.
“Have you told anyone else about this? Gone to a doctor?” Anna had that tone in her voice Anne was well acquainted with.
Anne could barely look her in the eye when she mumbled, “No, I didn’t even tell my papa. I think it’s just a dream.”
“It doesn’t hurt does it?”
Anne shook her head.
Julia put the back of her hand against Anne’s forehead and didn’t find any growing fever. Anne told them she didn’t feel bad and wasn’t all that shaken. Maybe they needed to let the boarding house know the sheets needed to be changed. She’ll go to the doctor later that day, Anna will hold her to it. She tried to steer the conversation back to their usual topics but they couldn’t stop fussing over her and eventually, after one too many stares, and cups of tea and cakes later Julia pushed them out and made Anna take her to get medicine. It wasn’t even like she had a choice when the two of them get to talking sternly. They both turned to her and scolded her about how she doesn’t get to groan and moan when she doesn't take care of herself in the first place and eating cake first does not count.
Anna tucked the blanket into her instead, telling her about how she can’t get a cold. She was a little nervous about getting as sick as Anna had been. She found she couldn’t break out of the will of Anna’s words. The whole ride over Anna kept leaning into her neck, checking on the mark. She could smell her perfume. Her fingers were so cold, her nails so sharp, sending shivers down her spine which only made Anna fuss more. She could feel her warm breath fan across the exposed skin and it was all she could do to face forward and watch her out of her peripheral. Anna kept her hands over hers but it felt heavier than just to warm up her gloved hands.
She rubbed the cream around her neck. Since she didn’t know what bit her or what might have poked her the only thing they could do was make sure it didn’t get infected. Anna came by later and dropped off a necklace saying it should be a charm to protect her. In the center hung a red jewel encased in cross pathing silver. Julia sent over a cake and with a card saying that this was her reward. Her father sneaked a slice. He was still pale and was crying about how he couldn’t afford to get sick this early in the session, he had so much to do, including keeping Calhoun in his pocket. They had another dinner in a couple of days and he couldn’t be coughing through it. His Webster should send him good job cakes too, he mumbled through a mouthful, he was doing a lot for the both of them.
Sitting down on her bed she put the necklace on and tucked it into her nightgown. It felt so cool against her bare skin, sending goosebumps up her arms. Despite that, it was a comfortable weight. She checked the windows, staring long at the full moon, listening for any creatures of the night, bringing herself out of her thoughts, she locked them up and pulled the curtains closed, tying them together to block at least a bat’s entry. She turned her lamp off before thinking better and kept it low, almost a flicker.
She was usually a heavy sleeper but a slight creaking in the wood in the hallway woke her up. She thought it was her father or someone on the lower floor walking around. She didn’t hear him snoring.
Her neck felt warm and it tickled with goosebumps from wet, hot breath coming from above. Her head was cloudy and she was warm all over. It felt like a hand had traced a path from cheek to neck to ribs. Only the ghost of the sensation was left. She came to only to find her door was open despite it being closed and locked earlier like every other evening. Groggily she leaned against it, using it as a cover to look out. She thought she heard the screeching of a bat down the hall but believed it was just a remnant of the previous night. Her chest felt as heavy as it did the night before.
“Papa?”
Grabbing her lamp she looked back out into the hallway. She thought she saw a shadow at the other end of the hall, long black hair undone, something dripping from where the mouth would be. It seemed startled. She stepped out and held the light up, calling out to whoever the woman was. No answer. The closer the light got the more she heard the shadow’s breath cascading. It stood up straighter and wiped its mouth. She swallowed and tried to fight the butterflies in her gut.
“Who are you? Are you hurt?”
She didn’t really know why she was talking to somebody breathing like a beast. The light caught the hem of her nightgown showing fanciful dark lace and silk. Before she could drag the lamp up it moved without a sound. All that was left was the arms of the tree outside outlined from the hall’s window, the wood creaking coming from below, and a pool of wine red blood. She shook the wool out of her head.
“Just another dream,” she mumbled.
Rubbing her neck she found the marks to be sore again.
She tiptoed by her father’s room and once again heard his snoring. Locking the door again she checked her window and it was as she left it. Her neck started to itch. Holding the necklace, she felt its cool presence ground her, her eyelids growing heavy as she slipped back into her bed. The room smelled like Anna’s floral and earthy perfume, dirt, lavender, wildflower, and she fell back into a dreamless sleep.
That night gave occurrence to a new turn in thought.
***************************************
The marks on her neck weren’t sore but they weren’t fading. She still put the cream on it every morning and night and kept the necklace close to her chest, those things were at least helping her sleep. She did wake up warm and heavy but it never spiked any fear in her. Some nights she saw the shadowy woman. Sometimes the window was open, her door, a wet earthy smell would permeate the room afterwards. The worst night, the one before last, she thought she saw the woman at the foot of her bed. She was whispering something in a familiar drawl but she was still coming out of her sleep and couldn’t make out her words. The scene before her made her blood go cold as blood stained the woman navel to mouth over her nightshift. Fiery eyes peered over undone hair. In the next breadth she found herself waking up in bed in a pool of cool sweat. She threw off her blankets and found no new marks and no blood loss. The only thing to make her question herself was the claw marks on the end of her bed.
Her father was growing paler by the day and kept rubbing and popping his neck. He kept assuring her he wasn’t getting sick, just the usual afflictions that come with a dark and dreary winter. She feared he was suffering from the same things she was, yet she didn’t grow pale. Besides feeling like there was wool in her head every morning and it took her an hour longer to wake up, she could find no bodily complaints.
Anna seemed to be feeling more like herself and was out with her and Julia whenever she could excuse herself. All they could talk about was the party at the Calhoun’s that weekend. A difference in venue made Webster more inclined to attend as it wouldn’t be a “Clay affair,” as Julia quoted.
The night had come swiftly making the gathering look like a faerie dance. Calhoun was renting a stately town home on 14th street, an equidistant corner of town from the Capitol and the President mansion. Another way of saying it wouldn’t be too much of a haul for those who were invited. She wasn’t old enough just yet but she heard whispers of how nothing had come close to the parties he had at his princely Georgetown residence. Anna Maria’s mother was in charge then.
Her father wore his signature green broadcloth and a cream vest with swirling designs when caught in the light. He switched out his straw hat for a more formal black one. She wore an orange and cream pelisse robe gown with cream trimming. After her tight waist ribbon bow cream ribbons adorned the center of her dress. Fancy silk trimming split down the chest of her bosom. She puffed up her bodices. Her neck and shoulders lay bare and pink from the flush of company.
The three senator’s daughters had picked out their place on a large divan with a perfect view of the dance floor, warmth of a fire under a marble mantelpiece, and a straight shot to the punch bowl. Julia fanned herself. Decked out in pearls her dress was a powder blue that had cuts from thigh to floor in a deep lilac blue with ribboned trimming. Her pointed bodice cut her figure out like a shadow. Anna Maria had a more conservative dress, with a stately collar, black and purple it was ruffled and puffed in all the right places as were in season.
Anna brushed some of Anne’s bangs away revealing a tight ribbon around her neck right where the two marks still showed. Anne gave her a sidelong glance but let her fuss nonetheless.
The necklace glowed against her chest.
Anne leaned over and whispered, “Jules, did you hide my flask?”
Reaching into her dress she pulled out a small metal flask with the initials ABC swooping across in glowing silver. “You know the punch is already spiked.”
“And it’s not bourbon.”
She was only then starting to feel light and warm but she felt she could still dance and walk proper. The banners of Whig and Anti-Jackson slogans were starting to slouch against the body heat and foot stomping of the dance floor. Politics had been discussed during and right after dinner. Now the room gained a hazy look from cigars, empty bottles, and continuingly empty silver platters.
Her eyes scanned the room. Her dancing card was almost full; she just needed one more dance. Julia’s was already full front and back and was just having fun at this point. She thought she saw her pull a second card out of her bosom at one party before. She took one last swig before handing her flask back to Julia, she wanted the last drop of courage so as not to second guess her choices.
She wanted to see Anna’s eyes flash just one more time.
“I think I might go scour for one last dance, I think they might replay that one reel.”
Anna’s jaw tightened.
“Not to dictate your own enjoyment but you should get in one dance too dear Anna.”
The dark haired woman flicked her eyes up to the gilded mirror reflecting the dance floor back onto the crowd. She set her mouth. “I have no time nor interest.”
“It’s such a good way to hear these guys’ real thoughts on the matters of the day, especially at this hour.”
“No time? Don’t you live here?” Julia put her fan back on her wrist.
Anna grumbled and kept her eyes on the men milling about them. Most of the men had formed small groups listening to stories, moving on from shop talk, having the music and laughter of dancing become a pleasant hum in the background. There was a group of young representatives on the other side of the room, eyeing them every now and then. That was Anne’s cue. She elbowed Julia and pointed her head. Julia winked at them before pretending to lean back over and continue a conversation with Anne.
Anne checked on Anna who drummed her fingers on the divan rest.
Anne winked before giving her fan a thwap. A tall, dark haired one was patted on the shoulder as he made his way over, the other men following behind like a pack. Standing up they gave a curtsy, he introduced himself but she didn’t hear him. She thought she could peg his accent as western, but nothing past that. Julia got herself talking, flashing her dancing card, miraculously with empty spots. Some tried to talk to Anna but she rebuffed them like they were flies.
Anne laughed at something the congressman said and ducked her head into his space. Batting her eyes she introduced herself and could tell the Clay name struck a chord with the man. She brought her card up and giggled about how she wouldn’t return anything he said back to Clay senior, but it would be in the best interest to become a Whig. She could tell Anna wanted to say something, that heady feeling when she says something with conviction was scratching at her brain, but her mouth must’ve gone dry. She gave the south carolinian a wink before being led onto the dance floor, joining Julia and her dance partner who just came up to her shoulders.
Hands on waist, shoulder, and lightly putting hand to hand the music started and they took turns about the room. Not a slow song, they switched partners, clapped, stomped, and swung with the other couples around them. Getting back with her congressman she watched as Anna stalked the room and made her way over, around and under the mirror, as the song was reaching its climax and climbing down.
The mirror was angled just so that Anna’s head should’ve been in the picture but Anne couldn’t see the dark hair and any of the purple she was wearing. She brought her eyes to Anna’s. Face as still and sharp as marble but those eyes flashed at her with all that fire. God, she loved those cheek bones and that splattering of freckles below her eyes. She gave a knowing smile at her while tuning out whatever her dance partner was saying, she was only listening for the end of the reel.
They finished the last swing and returned to their starting positions, bowing as the room clapped. The congressman came over, flushed, but Anna beat him to her.
She felt both of Anna’s cool hands encircle her wrist. “Pardon me, but I need to see Ms.Clay.”
“But—
“Take ease, another dance is starting up.” At her friend’s words the man visibly relaxed and shook his head of his previous words.
She felt butterflies in her gut when Anna lowered her voice, “I need you upstairs.”
“Yes, ma'am."
She checked over her shoulder for Julia as she was being dragged away. She saw her giggling over a smoke seeing who would be oh so kind as to bring her a light. Behind her more men were snapping necks over turning their heads to try and get to her. She would be fine.
The crowd seemed to flow around them with little obstacle or objection. Upstairs was dark and the noise of the party began to mellow out. She already knew where Anna was taking her as they entered the third room, the young Calhoun’s bedroom was still coated in the smell of dried herbs but there was a cleaner, fresher smell than the sickly sweat of fever. The embers of a fire gave the room some warmth and light but the house was already quite warm from the throngs of guests downstairs. The four poster bed had its curtains pulled back to show the mirroring lamps on either side, on, but low. The room was spotless and void of any semblance of sickness, including the neatly made bed. A chocolate pot stood where the miscellaneous medicinal boxes once were. She thought she spotted empty glass vials and pastries like the ones being passed around on the trays downstairs behind a stack of books and journals on her friend’s nightstand but was stopped by the grip on her hand growing tighter and the sound of the lock turning.
Anna’s breaths came fast and low as she grabbed Anne on either arm and placed the blonde’s back up against the door. She smirked as Anna’s eyes trailed down to the necklace.
Anna’s next words came out raspy, like she was trying to swallow her dry mouth. “You have been…”
“Cheeky? A smartass? Cute?”
“A pain,” Anna groaned. She didn’t hide her teeth anymore, they were long and sharp.
“You should show those off more.” She could’ve sworn Anna growled at her but let her reach up to touch them nonetheless. Underneath the woman’s braids the tips of Anna’s ears were growing into fine points. And turning slightly red. “You should at least show them off to me more. I’d rather prefer to see you when you use those on me.”
Anna pressed closer, their noses almost brushing. Anne’s smile didn’t falter as she was placed under the Calhoun’s gaze, the realization that the blonde knew about her, about her condition, sinking in.
Eyes caught the necklace again, right below her clavicle, to lips, to baby blues.
“You could’ve just asked, you know?”
Ears perked up.
“No need to be a bat circling my room or trying to break my window open. I consider you someone deep in my confidence, quite a good friend, Anna, do you think not of me the same?”
Anna’s hands flexed and she swallowed hard. “I do.”
“And you’ve prepared your room to bring me up here cause you just must be so…”
“I’m hungry.” Anna moved her hands to Anne’s waist not sensing a fight. The blonde settled neatly into the grasp. “And you drank that nasty Kentucky bourbon.”
Anne shrugged. “We wouldn’t want you to get oh so sick again and you should enjoy what you consume. Thought you liked the Kentucky taste.” Anne dusted her hands over Anna’s and bit her bottom lip. Anna’s ear flicked in annoyance. “The way you came into my room over and over again.”
Anna ran her hands up and down the other woman’s sides.
“I know you want me and now I’m inviting you in,” she whispered in Anna’s ear making sure their cheeks brushed.
“You are the worst tease,” Anna breathed before sinking her teeth below where the necklace hung. She paused when Anne tensed up and hissed at the sensation and only resumed when she relaxed once more. She hummed at the way the skin squeezed around her teeth and she got the first dizzying sweet taste.
Anne ran her fingers through dark locks, loosening them from their ties and braids, and held on tight. “I don’t think I’ll be well enough to go back home. You should make room in that bed of yours.”