This a random experiment that I decided to attempt. It's a Victorian Steampunk Ghost Story with a bit of romance thrown in.
The summary goes thusly:
Vesper Poe had lived a very unlucky life. She'd nearly been killed four times in her life, she saw ghosts, and worst or all, she was twenty-four years a woman and unmarried. One newspaper advertisement, however, changed her world.
The Whitehall Veil
I.
Vesper Poe tugged nervously on the edges of her lace gloves after she knocked daintily on the heavy oaken doors. She pulled a scrap of newspaper from her handbag and glanced at the time. Eight o'clock in the morning, it said. Vesper dug deeper in her handbag and pulled out an old gold pocket watch. She flipped it open, checked the time, tapped the face a few times, held the device to her ear and sighed heavily. “I'm on time.” she muttered morosely as she placed the newspaper clipping and pocket watch back in her hand bag.
She raised her hand to knock again, but paused. She was already aware how ridiculous is was to be there in the first place and now it seemed as if the old bag had made a grand joke of her. Not that Vesper's reputation could suffer anymore. She resumed to picking nervously at the lace on her gloves as she stewed in her indecision. “Come now, old girl.” she whispered to herself encouragingly. “Count your loses and give the endeavor up. Lovely joke, ha ha, now go get a cup of tea and forget this whole debacle.”
Unfortunately, Vesper declined the advice of her good sense and knocked again. “No.” she replied to herself, quite firmly. “I'm here, I'm awake far earlier than I ought to be, and I'm determined to at least meet the old Mrs. Monroe and give her a piece of my mind!”
“Indeed?” questioned a deep voice that issued from somewhere behind her.
Vesper jumped and spun around, ready to attack her interloper with her black and white striped parasol.
She was stopped short by the tall, unusual man standing behind her.
He was awfully tall, a veritable giant to her five foot three inches frame. He wore a dusty gray suit with a long black over coat and a silvery vest. He wore a pair of dirt-encrusted goggles around his neck, a pocket watch hung carelessly out of his lapel pocket, and he had cords and tangles of wires looped around his arm and over his shoulder. But his oddest feature was easily his hair. It was long and black and wrapped in thick strands that seemed to defy gravity by standing nearly a foot from his head even though he had a haphazardly tied black ribbon around the mess.
His tools screamed inventor, but his hair screamed escapee from an asylum. “Do watch where you swing that thing, miss. You're liable to take some poor unsuspecting bloke's eye out.” he said with a slight smirk as he gestured to her parasol which had somehow finagled its way around her arms until she was holding it like a pistol.
Vesper lowered the parasol, but shot the man her most frosty glare. “It t'would serve you right for sneaking up on a girl.”
The insane man 'tsked' lightly. “Can't have that now can we? Pardon me, ma'am. I am Thaddeus Weatherford at your most humble service.” he pretended to doff his imaginary hat as he sketched a deep bow.
“Your manner are atrocious.” Vesper grumbled before she replied with, “Vesper Poe.” She finished off with a hasty curtsy that could barely be called a curtsy at all.
Somewhere, in some grave, her boarding school charms teacher was cursing her name.
Ghosts reminded Vesper of her current predicament. “Are you here for Mrs. Monroe's little...ghost...finding...soirée?” she finished rather lamely.
“Indeed I am and I take it that you are as well. I also have observed that we seem to be the only ones on this noble quest and our hostess has forgotten us.”
Vesper sighed and turned a weary glance to the still closed grand doors. “You would be correct in your assumptions. I was just about to leave.”
“And having a grand argument with yourself about it too. I know, that's when I arrived.” he reminded her cheekily.
Vesper resisted the urge to brain him with her parasol or better yet, her little heeled boot. Not that she could kick as high as his head. The blasted giant. But it was a lovely dream to entertain.
“Yes.” she said shortly.
“Perhaps you need a louder knock?” he mused as he stepped up beside her.
Vesper was suddenly struck by his generally lovely facial structure, pale complexion, and the odd scent of cloves and gunpowder that seemed to lazily waft off him. “Miss Poe?” he asked, breaking her from the spell.
“Ah, yes...um...sorry, what were you saying?” Vesper tried very hard not to blush, thankfully she had practice at appearing emotionless.
“Stand back in case the door opens. The hinges suggest it will open to the outside. I am about to knock and I don't wish for you to get hit by either of the doors.”
Infernally logical. Vesper grumbled inwardly as she backed down and to the side.
Thaddeus' large fist hit the oak so hard that Vesper was sure everyone within a thirty meter radius heard it. It seemed do the trick, however, because to Vesper's great consternation, the door opened not but ten seconds after.
The man who opened it was perhaps the skinniest fellow Vesper had ever seen. Skinny and old. His veins protruded grotesquely from his hands and he was so skinny that she could practically count every bone in his hand and wrist. “Yes?” he inquired in a raspy voice that had the sound of wind ruffling a pile of dead leaves.
“I am Thaddeus Weatherford and this is Miss Vesper Poe and we're here about Mrs. Monroe's advertisement.” Thaddeus introduced them both as if they were more than mere strangers.
“Ah good, you two are the last to arrive.” the skinny old man rasped in an almost ominous tone.
Vesper tried not to shiver as he gestured into the darkness behind him. Thaddeus glanced back and her and smirked as he offered her his arm. “Well, my dear Miss Poe, shall we?”
“I am not your
'dear' anything.” Vesper grumbled, but took his arm anyway because politeness demanded it.
Together the stepped into the darkness.
II.
It was not so terribly dark once they had gotten inside of the grand front hall. Vesper carefully removed the pins in her veiled top hat, freed the hat from her dark curls, and clutched it nervously in her free hand as they followed their skinny new friend deeper into the lavish, but infinitely old front hall. It barely looked as if anyone actually live in the house. The old, suitably spooky pictures of unsmiling relatives were covered in years of dust and the ceiling was home to many webs, both unoccupied and occupied.
The skinny man took up a lit candelabra that contained four mostly-used, dripping, blood red candles. “Follow me.” he intoned.
“Straight from novel, isn't it?” Thaddeus whispered.
Vesper replied with a curt. “Refrain from the intimacy of whispering, if you please, Mr. Weatherford.”
“You, Miss Poe, are absolutely no fun at all.”
“I'll not here to be fun.” he countered.
“Ah, so you have a mysterious tale as well? A deep, dark secret?”
“Never. I am a lady.”
“It's quite alright, I have my share of deep, dark secrets as well. No need to be ashamed.”
“You're insufferable!” Vesper sputtered.
“And you're missing the view.” Thaddeus gestured to the hallway.
It was perhaps the creepiest hallway Vesper has ever seen in her life. It was far darker than it needed to be and the darkness was almost a tangible thing that seemed to hang about them like a heavy shroud.
There were more grim portraits and the eyes of their subjects glowed in the light of the flickering flame making the glowing eyes seem as if they were darting back and forth between the newcomers.
Vesper a beginning to identify coming to the creepy mansion as a very bad idea. Probably one of the worst in her life. She wasn't actually afraid of it, per say. She rolled her shoulder as she fidgeted and felt the satin of her gown catch on a patch of rough skin. The dead didn't scare her, but rather, they annoyed her because she didn't understand them.
Vesper was halted in her introspection by the opening of two ornate doors. They had reached their destination. The room was bright and surprisingly clean. It was a day room decorated with pink and white floral couches dainty tables, and many bursting flower vases. Four very interesting people lounged about, drinking cups of tea and eying a dubious looking stack of green sandwiches.
The first of the guests was a woman a good deal younger than herself. She was a little blonde angel who would probably be considered a great beauty had her blonde curls not been hacked to a manly length just below her ears. Scandalously, she wore a man's large white shirt, red striped vest, and pressed brown slacks that were covered to her knees by huge, black boots. She adjusted a pair of spectacles that sat on the edge of her nose and smiled lightly. “Why Thad! You devil! I wasn't aware that you'd be joining us!”
Thaddeus grinned. “My dear, sweet Amelia, I wanted to surprise you!”
A mature gentleman who seemed older than any of them, but hardly looked a day over thirty set his lips into a thin line. His dark eyes glinted dangerously. “Thaddeus.” he greeted the man coldly with a minuscule incline of his head.
He, like Thaddeus, possessed a pair of unique goggles that seemed to be attached to his belt. He wore a rumpled white dress shirt, an untied, brown, bow tie, and brown slacks that were covered in pockets. His hair was short and messy and reddish brown. “Morning, Eldon.” Thaddeus returned, seeming to not notice the man's barely concealed contempt.
“Thaddeus, my boy. You know far better than to provoke, Eldon.” The third man said good naturedly.
He was an elderly gentleman with the most unusual black and white striped hair. His black suit was twenty years out of style, his white cravat was stained with some dark substance, and the black boots he wore over his slacks looked entirely ridiculous. Vesper liked him instantly. He just seemed to exude the sort of aura that drew people to him. She hadn't even spoke to him and she already felt as if he was the grandfather she'd never had.
A cough interrupted Thaddeus' greeting and Vesper's eyes were drawn to the last of the guests. The girl was only a child. Probably no more than ten. She looked horribly ill. Her pretty green eyes were rimmed by deep, dark circles and her flamboyantly bright red hair was limp and gathered into something that resembled pig tails. She wore a white dress that was far too fancy for the occasion and much to grown up for a girl her age. She didn't smile as she greeted Thaddeus with a whispery “hello”.
“Everyone, this is Miss Vesper Poe, I've only just met her myself, but she's here for the same reasons as we are.” Thaddeus politely introduced her.
Vesper managed a small curtsy. “A pleasure.”
Before anything more could be said, the most absurd looking person Vesper had ever espied in her life breezed in with an air of authority that spoke louder than her extremely short stature. “Hello chickadees, I am Mrs. Monroe.” the old woman said briskly as she tossed her pale blue hair over her shoulder.
To Be Continued! Dun dun DAAAA!
