Heir of Wolcott Manor
Copyright© 2025 by Carlos Santiago
Chapter 17: A Price
Horror Sex Story: Chapter 17: A Price - After his father's passing in 1822, Silas Wolcott returns home to discover he has inherited a fortune beyond necessity. However, soon, he must uncover the secrets of his House and bloodline. With the help of his stalwart butler, a seductive vampire, and his own intellect, Silas must navigate a power FAR greater than any of mortal comprehension.
Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Historical Alternate History Paranormal Vampires Cream Pie Halloween Royalty Violence
“Life will let you get away with something for a while, but sooner or later, you will pay the price. Everything you do in life causes the effects that you experience. When you get the bill, be prepared to pay.”
— Iyanla Vanzant, Acts of Faith: Daily Meditations for People of Color (1993). First published in New York by Simon & Schuster, 1993. Copyright © 1993 by Iyanla Vanzant. All rights reserved.
Morning came as it always did and would. Wolcott Manor was no exception to the light even in the aftermath of its festivities. Though, down below, servants moved silently about the corridors, so as to discreetly restore order to the spaces once alive with music, dancing, and laughter.
Silas composed himself after a long night’s attempt to see through the door in his basement. He did not allow his countenance to betray fatigue or disappointment in the night’s experiment. His manner was one of quiet authority as befit one who had a vast fortune tied to his name.
“Gentlemen, ladies,” he said warmly. “Your company has been an honor. I trust the evening afforded some small amusement. While tonight’s gather is over, I am inclined to repeat such a gathering next week. Think of this as your invitation”
There was a ripple of polite delight. After all, they had all drank his champagne and wine, ate his food, danced on his floor, and had an evening of overall merriment. The promise of another was both good manners and the man showing off. In that way, the group was coming to like Silas Wolcott.
Jonathan Pellham lingered behind, waiting for his friend.
“I am glad to see you can you tempt us with the prospect of another splendid evening. For my part, I do not think I shall be leaving until one lady in particular finds my continued presence agreeable.”
The emphasis was slight, but not so slight as to obscure his meaning. By Silas’s interpretation, this was new. Jonathan was far more forward. That he was playing the part of a gentleman threw Silas off, yet he knew his friend was not one to give up on a woman he wanted until he outright failed.
Silas gave his friend a smile. He hoped he was able to convey his warning and support for his friend in the small look.
“Jon,” he said in that tone of courtesy one employs when correcting a child, “your confidence is admirable, if not misplaced.”
Jonathan blinked but did not seem to comprehend what the Wolcott was saying.
“I would caution you not to mistake hauteur for encouragement. Elizabeth is an independent being. You would be foolish to try and woo her if she does not give you an outright invitation.”
Jonathan adjusted his gloves with deliberate slowness; however, his smirk was unbothered and the arrogance in his eyes told the story of his plans that Silas knew well.
“Silas! I thank you for your concern, but I flatter myself on know how to bring out the inner woman from every lady. Miss Elizabeth is no different, and I have no doubt that her thoughts do not mirror her words in this manner.”
The air seemed to still. With everything going on, from the servants pausing in their movements to the guests leaving and to the meeting that was surely taking place, Silas had other places to be, and Jon was only a distraction.
“Be certain, Jon,” Silas warned. “Do not mistake the lady’s intentions. I know you’re very good at getting what you want from most women; I will always grant you that courtesy, but I think in this one arena, you are outmatched. I would hate see you humbled and your confidence shattered in my house.”
“There’s the conscious priest in you, Wolcott!” Jonathan exclaimed, clapping Silas on the back. “I trust you to manage your home. Trust me to manage my affairs. I am quite good at it.”
Silas looked at him in concern. Not so long ago, he would have found Jonathan amusing. He was a unique sort of man. In their youth, he had enjoyed the frivolity and fun, yet in that moment, Silas could not help but see him as an immature child who deserved to be struck by Elizabeth.
Silas let out a laugh before turning. When Thomas got back from whatever business he had, it might be best to keep Jonathan Pellham from the property.
With everyone leaving, the grand dining hall was the meeting place at the large table for those that wanted to unlock the mystery of the door below. Elizabeth and Sophia sat with cups of untouched tea before them while Lafit came in to join them.
Elizabeth broke the depressing silence.
“The door couldn’t be open? For all of your druids’ magic, nothing, Latif?”
Latif did not rise to the word.
“No. We were not. You were there. It was not as ... fruitful as we had hoped,” he began. He paused, motioning to his notebook. “However, I feel we learned something from this endeavor. While the mystery of what lies behind the door is still intact, we are not without fragments of knowledge.”
“How so?” Sophia wondered. She sat up in her curiosity.
“From the markings, some research brought by the Druids, I have two working theories. Firstly, whatever waits beyond that door demands blood. I think that is one of the keys to open the boundary. I cannot be sure if it needs a drop of enough to end someone’s life.”
Sophia flinched at the idea. Elizabeth, for her part, seemed mildly more interested.
“And the second?” Elizabeth prompted.
“The Druids believes that they were able to receive a message from the other side within their minds.”
“How would we verify that?” Sophia asked, skeptical.
“We cannot. Sometimes words are not inscribed in stone or parchment but in mind and spirit. Nevertheless, that message contained three words: seven lively morals.”
“Seven lively morals?” Sophia asked, spacing out the words. “As opposed to what? Seven deadly sins?”
Latif shook his head in frustration while Elizabeth was contemplative.
“Perhaps, it is code; maybe it is a reference to what you believe. I don’t know. Truly, I do not. For all we know, they are delusional, but in any endeavor such as this, any piece of knowledge must be looked at as though it is hard data to be understood.”
The tea seemed to cool before their very eyes.
Whatever the message meant was, in part, immaterial. After all, they had entered this undertaking with the understanding that it might be dangerous. To back out now was to allow the insight of the unknown to win.
“We should discuss this with Silas,” Elizabeth breathed.
“I will inform him further when I see him next. Would it be possible for you to keep studying the door?”
“Without the cover of a party?” Latif asked.
Sophia nodded.
The ride was not a long one with how the driver had pushed the horses. While the carriage only needed one beast to ride, he had convinced a farmer to stable their first animal and give them two in exchange for payment in three day’s time. How useful the Wolcott name and fortune was even on the road.
Thomas returned from the Hallowell Farm with the smell of the open fields still upon him. He had scarcely removed his hat when Eleanor intercepted him in the kitchen.
“Thomas,” she whispered, with a quick glance toward the stairwell, “thank Heaven you have returned!”
“Of course I returned,” Thomas replied with a smile. “Why would I not?”
“The house is not as you left it, not by half. All manner of goings-on have transpired, and no one has been holding onto the reins.”
Thomas looked upon her, and he saw how serious she was. He set his hat upon the side table, and prepared himself to listen to whatever had gone on in his absence. He could not have been gone more than a week.
“Tell me plain: What has been done, then?”
“Master Silas has entertained Miss Sophia... in his bedroom, as though she were already his wife,” she said in a whisper.
This alone was a scandal waiting to happen, but for Thomas, this was not new information.
“You need not ask what that means; it is plain enough,” the cook went on. “As if that were not problem enough, a ‘Mistress Elizabeth’ and ‘Master Latif’ have taken residence here. None of the staff knows where they hail from. They are foreigners that have come here, and neither Sophia nor Elizabeth rise before late in the afternoon. There are more parties being had and planned. This was not the way of his father, Thomas, as you every well know.”
“Perhaps not, but we are to offer grace for Master Silas to find himself,” Thomas tried to offer.
“Maybe so, Thomas, but these grand affairs take its toll on the staff, and poor Mary and Esther have walked into rooms to help clean and have found people in all manners of undress. I, myself, have seen the beginnings of indiscretions, flourishing under this very roof.”
Thomas wanted to reply that this was the way of a wealthy bachelor, but he could see how upset Eleanor was. If she did not say her peace to him, she might very well explode.
“The girls on the staff are restless; I know Mr. MacPhee is bothered by it too even if he does not say as much. Thank goodness all of the footmen you hired were temporary, but I do not think we can rely on their silence once they are dismissed. I fear, if matters continue thus, we shall be left with no servants at all. And what is a house of this size without its staff? A shell, no more.”
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