Free Wuthering Bites by Sarah Gray Page B

amuse myself by singing carols. Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw were engaging Missy’s attention by gay trifles bought for her to present to the little Lintons, as an acknowledgment of their kindness.
    They had invited them to spend the next day at Wuthering Heights, and the invitation had been accepted, on one condition: Heathcliff must be banned from coming in contact with the Linton offspring.
    Smelling the rich scent of heating spices in the kitchen, I remembered how old Earnshaw used to come in when all was tidied, and call me a cant lass, and slip a shilling into my hand as a Christmas gift. From that I went on to think of his fondness for Heathcliff. That naturally led me to consider the poor lad’s situation now, and I got up and walked into the court to seek him.
    He was not far; I found him in the stable, cornering a young female vampire with the aid of a pitchfork. It hissed and bared ivory fangs, but the gleam in its eyes was more of lust than fierceness, and the amount of white ankle and shapely leg it revealed beneath its gown and cloak bordered on indecent.
    â€˜Stay back, Nelly,’ he warned, thrusting the tines of the fork in the beastie’s direction.
    It squealed, cowering, its arms thrust out in an attempt to protect its face.
    I drew back, pulling my cloak around me, horrified and yet oddly intrigued at the same time.
    â€˜What did I tell you?’ Heathcliff demanded of the creature. Her long, stringy black hair was the color of pitch, her eyes black holes, her lips blood red, and when she shrieked, I could see her fangs.
    â€˜I told you, you could not pass beyond the outer walls! You take advantage of my Christmas cheer!’ he bellowed. ‘I throw you and yours a perfectly good sheep and then you dare come after my horses?’
    It shrilled in response, almost as if it could speak, but if it could, its language was beyond me.
    â€˜I should kill you,’ Heathcliff threatened. ‘Christmas cheer be damned.’ But then he lowered the pitchfork. ‘Go, before I change my mind.’
    With a hiss, the vampire scurried past me and out into the darkness.
    Heathcliff returned the pitchfork to its place along the wall. He said nothing about the vampire, so I said nothing. Instead, I said, ‘The kitchen is so comfortable, and Joseph is upstairs. Let me dress you smart before Miss Cathy comes out, and then you can sit together, with the whole hearth to yourselves, and have a long chatter till bedtime.’
    I waited, but getting no answer, left him. Catherine supped with her brother and sister-in-law; Joseph and I joined at an unsociable meal, seasoned with his reproofs on one side and sauciness on the other. He seemed in even a fouler mood than usual, though why, I did not know. He kept glancing at the door, as if expecting a visitor. What I would not know until later was that he had been, the very same unfortunate visitor Heathcliff had just run off. But that is another story.
    Cathy sat up late, preparing for the reception of her new friends; she came into the kitchen once to speak to her old one, but Heathcliff was gone. She only stayed to ask what was the matter with him, and then went back.
    In the morning he rose early and disappeared into the moors. Seeking the female vampire I had seen the night before? I wondered. He did not reappear till the family were departed for church. Heathcliff’s time away from the house seemed to have brought him to a better spirit. He hung about me for a while, and having screwed up his courage, exclaimed—
    â€˜Nelly, make me decent. Make me acceptable in appearance so I do not distress Cathy any further.’
    â€˜High time, Heathcliff,’ I said. ‘You have grieved Catherine; she’s sorry she ever came home, I dare say! It looks as if you envied her because she is more thought of than you.’
    The notion of envying Catherine was incomprehensible to him, but the notion of grieving her he understood clearly