[sylvanSpider]

Regardless of how well William attempted to hide his emotions, the shrewd Miss Rosamund picked up on it. The domestic life was one that made the woman particularly keen to the emotions of those whose households she shared, moreso with the males. “Mr. Shaw, you're quite pale; you look as though you've seen a ghost...” Her brow furrowed with concern. For the entire time that the woman had known Mr. Shaw, he was lanky, yes. Unlike other men as well. But he was no weakling. His constitution, regardless of his stature, was a strong one. This was very unlike him. There was something about Ms. Ward that deeply unsettled him, and though Rosamund was curious, she knew better than to push the matter further.

Emily leaned forward, taking both of his cold hands in hers, “No, but they will come. And we will be together in the same home. When your work day is done, it is me that you'll be coming home to. It's...it's what's been pushing me forward, William.” Under the circumstances, she was the only one in the household comfortable enough to address him by his first name. She was going to be his wife, the one to be the most intimate with him. Formalities, now that the two were well aware that they were to live together happily, were no longer necessary.

As the women rose to lead William to the door, a chill ran down Emily's spine. That peculiar feeling that someone other than Rosamund and William saw her came in an instant and she shivered, drawing her shawl closer about her despite the warmness of the room. She waved to William as he turned to make his way to his own quarters. Their finances were not yet high enough that they could arrange to have a carriage take him away, but the distance to his home was not far, and the wind was down at least for the moment. William would make it safely, and that was all Emily needed. Of course, she wished that he would stay there. They had a spare room. But, he had others that were surely waiting for him at his own place of residence.

-=-=-

Simon watched the carriage rattle down Flint's cobblestone roads as his own carriage came into view. The carriage had once been a much appreciated luxury provided for by the church that employed him. As a boy he was an urchin, earning his food by various odd jobs during the day, and on days of poor business he'd be forced to steal. Now, everything he needed was provided for, so long as he continued to sacrifice his time for the purposes of destroying all that was evil, namely, vampires, demons, and werewolves. At least, these were his specialty having been trained and found by the best in the business.

That man was long dead, laid to rest in an ornate tomb deep within the catacombs of the church—where he too would one day rest. Rather than climbing into the carriage, however, the Hellsing climbed up beside the coachman who didn't seem the least bit perturbed by this strange behavior. At this juncture, he was used to it. He'd been Simon's associate for many years now, and he didn't mind his company. “What do you think, Wegg? A vampire?”

“Undoubtedly. Unfortunately, the victim was completely drained. There was no restoring her,” Simon murmured, putting his hands in his armpits for warmth. “To make things worse, the victim was the new bride of the chief of police. I'm afraid he'll be of no use given the state of grief he was in. He is accompanying the body to the morgue, though I'm afraid I'm going to ask that he not be present when we begin the autopsy.”

“Understandable, sir,” came the response of the Listening Ear. “And you're certain he was not feigning grief? You're certain that the chief is not the culprit? Flint has not had any vampire related incidents for at least a decade, sir.”

“Yes, yes. This I know. But his grief was genuine. Further, he is active during the day in order to fulfill his duties as a police officer. I've already reviewed his schedule. That kind of schedule would not be sustainable by a leech.”

“True, sir.”

Simon continued, “As such, I don't have any convincing leads. However, based on ehm...past precedent, I am led to believe that the vampire could very well be a male. You see, most vampires choose victims of the sex they are attracted to sexually, if only to add to the deviance of their existence. So, male vampires often choose feminine victims and female vampires the masculine, you see.”

“Very true, sir.”

The carriage rattled on its course following the dark curtained hearse and it did not take long for the men to lay the body out on a table ready for Simon's examination.