A vampire? Speaking in a vaguely familiar voice and lecturing a hoodlum?Surely not.
The chill was definitely raising the hair on her neck, heightening her senses, but this man wasn"t an undead. She knew it... yet...
her senses were still on alert.
Then Victoria saw the faintest shift of shadow, gray-black moving into ink black, behind the carriage.
Ah.
Stepping back from the altercation in which the newcomer"s cloak was whipping and churning about as he advanced on the bandit, she reached into her pocket and grasped her stake, then replaced the knife.
She turned and saw the faint glow of red eyes between two wooden buildings across the road-barely enough room for a man to walk through shoulder-square. Her pulse notched up and she smiled there in the night, slipping in front of the parked carriage and across the street... into the narrow s.p.a.ce.
She heard an alarmed shout behind her, as if the newcomer had seen her walk into the dark alley... but she ignored it.
As she moved deeper into the slender opening, Victoria stepped on something that shifted and scuttled beneath her foot, sending her off balance, b.u.mping into the brick wall. At least it was furry and squirming, not eight-legged and crunching. Her next step landed her boot in something soft, squishy, and putrid, and when she took one more step, she realized that the red eyes had vanished, and that the back of her neck was warming.
The vampire had gone.
The sensation at the back of her neck was gone too.
Frowning in the dark, Victoria stopped and listened and felt. Deep breaths, as Kritanu had taught her, deep breaths to heighten her awareness, and to calm the singing of her nerves.
Nothing. She felt and heard nothing.
Unwilling to believe that her chance for a fight had disappeared, Victoria waited still longer, and contemplated. This was the second time in two nights that she"d found vampires, after months of nothing.
Last night she"d had the unsettling experience of being unable to kill one, or kill what she"d thought was a vampire. And tonight the one she stalked had simply slipped away, silent and quick, leaving her with stake in hand and an odd feeling of unfinished business.
She listened and felt again. Still nothing.
As Victoria turned to take the four or five steps that would bring her from the alley, she heard a shout coming from the street.
"Madam! Miss!"
It was the carriage owner, the one who had taken it upon himself to save her from the thugs. Again she thought his voice was familiar. She stepped back into what pa.s.sed for illumination on this dark night, out of the alley, then darted across the street and around the carriage. "I am here."
He spun and faced her, and their recognition was simultaneous.
"Mr. Starca.s.set!""Lady Rockley!"
Victoria could not believe her misfortune. Her would-be savior was her good friend Gwendolyn Starca.s.set"s brother. And he was staring at her with understandable shock and concern, frozen, as if unable to think what to do.
As would any other member of the peerage, if they found a widow just coming out of mourning alone in the most dangerous part of London in the middle of the night, not to mention garbed in men"s clothing.
Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Victoria could not help but be amused at how the man must be struggling to find something polite to say, so she stepped in to help him. "Mr. Starca.s.set, thank you for your a.s.sistance," she told him demurely.
She would not offer an explanation for her presence here.
He appeared to accept her lead. "Madam, may I escort you... home?" His attention moved from her to the street corner and back again, as though expecting to see another vehicle, or some other person or attendant. "Surely you must be... chilled?"
He"d removed his hat, which, unlike Victoria"s, had somehow not become dislodged during his interaction with the thug. Now she could see more of his handsome, though boyish face; one, that, with its strong chin and long narrow nose, reminded her uncomfortably of Phillip.
But George Starca.s.set, heir to the Viscount Claythorne, had more rounded cheeks, was golden-haired instead of dark-haired, and his eyes, though not a deep blue, were a lighter hue than the heavy-lidded ones belonging to her husband. Although she could not see them well in the low light, Victoria was aware that they were the color of an angry ocean, for Mr. Starca.s.set had trained them upon her many times since they had met.
"I am not chilled, thank you, sir, and there is my hack as we speak." She"d heard the creaking, and rumbling of Barth"s carriage as it careened down the streets several moments before it actually appeared.
"A hack? Madam, I cannot allow you to take a hack home in the middle of the night. Please allow me the pleasure to escort you to St. Heath"s Row."
Victoria should be used to being called madam, but she was not. It made her eyes water because she bit her tongue instead of saying what she truly felt. The t.i.tle might have been important to another woman, and certainly she didn"t begrudge the comfort and wealth she"d attained by marrying Phillip, but she"d have forgone all of it if she could still have him. And every time someone used the t.i.tle, it reminded her of her loss.
For before Phillip, she had merely been miss.
Unexpectedly, her eyes dampened. Mr. Starca.s.set must have noticed, for he reached for her arm, guiding it firmly around his, and said comfortingly, "This has been a trying night for you, I"m certain, Lady Rockley. Please allow me to see you home in the comfort of my carriage."
"Very well, Mr. Starca.s.set. Thank you for your insistence." Victoria gave a wave to Barth, who had slid bravely from his seat and was not troubling to hide the stake in one hand and the pistol in the other. If nothing else, he was prepared for any eventuality, including protection provided by the large crucifix that dangled from his neck.
She turned to climb into the offered carriage and, in doing so, brushed against Starca.s.set.
"What is that you are holding?" he asked, reaching for the hand that still held her stake.
Victoria slid it back under her coat before he could grasp it. "A stick."
"I am certainly glad that I came upon you when I did, madam, for I fear that stick would not have served you well in your defense against those thugs." The carriage jolted as he climbed in after her."Indeed." Victoria kept her response to a murmur and, shifting in her seat, slipped the stake into its pocket on the inside of her coat.
The carriage rumbled off, taking Victoria away in a much smoother, more sedate manner than she"d arrived in St. Giles. She and Starca.s.set sat in silence for a turn, Victoria mulling over the presence of another vampire that seemed to have run away from her... or, the thought struck her, perhaps it had wished for her to follow it.
"Lady Rockley, if I may be permitted to ask, how have you been faring these last months? Gwendolyn tells me you are still receiving only a very few visitors. I think of you often."
"Thank you, Mr. Starca.s.set. Your sentiments are much appreciated. And as to how I have fared... it has been a long year, but I am of the hope and belief that the worst is over. I told your sister only last week that I am preparing to make a full return to Society."
In the low lantern light that bobbed in rhythm with the cobbled bricks below, his smile was exceedingly warm.. "May I say that I am very pleased to hear this. And I know that Gwendolyn has missed your presence quite abominably at the functions this Season. But now that it is drawing to a close, I am sure you know we are preparing to repair to Claythorne. And if I may not be considered too forward, I do believe it would be a great delight to my sister should you attend us there."
"Indeed. How very kind of you, Mr. Starca.s.set." Victoria found herself wanting to blush under his warm stare, which made it all too clear that he would be the one most delighted with her presence. "Gwendolyn did speak to me of it."
"We were just talking Wednesday last in regards to our house party, which we make on an annual basis, as a celebration of the beginning of grouse season. Of course, last year you would have been invited, but... oh, forgive me, madam. It was not the best of times for you." He brushed off the lapels of his coat in a rather nervous gesture. "Gwendolyn was musing aloud as to whether you would be able to attend this year. And how felicitous that I should have the opportunity to reiterate the invitation in person!"
Victoria forbore to point out that felicity had played little role in their meeting on the dark, dank streets of St. Giles. Danger and happenstance, perhaps... but not felicity. "I am most honored and have already decided to accept the invitation," she replied. It was time that she at least shed the black clothing she"d been wearing. Of course, she would never be able to wholly embrace the dances and the fetes and the fashions and the teas that were part of Society as fully as she had done before... but perhaps she could find some sort of balance betwixt her two lives.
Or perhaps she would be destined to the loneliness of walking the streets at midnight, instead of riding home with a handsome beau after a long night of dancing.
"I will be delighted to join you at Claythorne," she added with real pleasure.
"Splendid! I shall tell her tomorrow that you have accepted, although"-he coughed genteelly-"I shall not divulge to her the exact circ.u.mstances as to how we have met up." His lips stretched in a jovial grin.
"Indeed. I would and do appreciate your reticence in that matter." Victoria smiled back at him, realizing that his grin was so very pleasant as to make anyone want to join him in his humor. She hoped that he would honor his statement and not share with Gwendolyn or any other person of their Society the fact that he had found her walking alone on the streets at night.
Although she supposed if he did, few would believe him.
As she settled back in the carriage, it occurred to her to wonder, then, just exactly what had taken the Viscount Claythorne"s heir himself to those same dangerous streets during the same dark night.
Chapter 4
In Which Verbena Has Her Way.
" "Tis long past time to see ye in a color other than black." Verbena clucked as she tied Victoria"s stays. "Ye cudda gone to half mournin" six months ago and been wearin" that pretty pearl gray. Even when ever"one was mournin" for Princess Charlotte, G.o.d rest her soul, they went to grays after six months. But no, no, you woulden and can"t say"t I blame ye, what with losin" the marquess so horribly, but my lady, yer skin"s been missin" the pretty colors like yeller an" that peach. It"s right to be liven your cheeks up a bit."
Victoria knew better than to attempt a word when her maid was in lecture mode. Likely Verbena had been saving it up the last nine or ten months and wouldn"t be dissuaded from saying her piece regardless of what her mistress might wish to interject.
"All I can say is, I"m glad I talked ye into leaving all them black and gray gowns back at home. This is a house party, and ye should have fun. Ye deserve it, my lady. Ye deserve it." Her impossibly hued orange hair was gathered into two springy bunches, one below each ear, and stuck out like fistfuls of stiff netting.
Their eyes met in the mirror, one pair a sparkling, good-humored blue, the other thick lashed, almond shaped, and serious. "But I"m glad"t"see," Verbena added more gently, "that ye didn"t leave off your vis bulla. What would we do wit"out ye, and the other Venators?"
Verbena, whose cousin was Barth the hackney driver, had recognized Victoria"s vampire-hunting amulet immediately after she"d begun wearing it more than a year ago. How she knew of vampires and Venators when the rest of London was blissfully ignorant, Victoria was uncertain; but it was a relief that her maid, who also inexplicably knew how to treat vampire bites and was not frightened of visiting places like the Silver Chalice, was aware of her secret. Having one"s maid in on the most intimate details of one"s life, especially when it involved much sneaking around and wearing clothing belonging to the opposite gender, was a great serendipity.
Victoria shook her head, drawing in a breath that was more restricted now that she"d been laced into her stays. "I feel better when I am wearing the vis; that is certain. Though I don"t expect to have need of it whilst here at Claythorne. To be sure, I would not have agreed to leave London had Aunt Eustacia not a.s.sured me she would send for me were there any threats to be contained. I"ve seen only one vampire, other than the one I killed, and found no sign of any others since that night I met Mr.
Starca.s.set."
"Yer Aunt Eustacia is one smart lady," Verbena said, digging carefully through the pile of gowns so as not to muss them.
"Though that butler of hers, Charley... he sure does know how to keep his mouth shut. Can"t say I haven"t tried to get"m to talk to me about the goin"s-on there, but his lips are"s tight as a clam"s. And that friend o" hers, Mr. Maximilian Pesaro. He"s a right fascinatin" Jemmy, too, if I do say. Frightenin"ly handsome, in a bold sort of way." She shivered. "If I didn"t know better, I"d almost think he was a vampire; he"s got the elegant, dangerous look o"one."
"You aren"t the first to think that of him," Victoria replied dryly. She stood, pushing away from the bleached-wood dressing table, and turned to what was sure to be the difficult task of refusing to let Verbena dress her in bold carmine or bright jonquil for her first dinner at Claythorne. "He is a formidable Venator; that one thing is certain. I can"t say that I understand why he left so quickly after Phillip died, but my aunt says he was needed in Rome. Though it wasn"t as if he were needed here. I think I shall wear the navy gown tonight, Verbena."
"Wavy? My lady, that"s near"s bad as the black! Wouldn"t this lovely mulberry color be more fittin"? See how"t brings out that dusky sort o" rose color in yer cheeks? And next to yer black curls? An" it makes yer lashes look darker"n a boar"s-bristle brush." She thrust the preferred gown in front of her mistress. "Well, that Mr. Pesaro cert"nly helped ye last summer, when ye were tryin" to keep Lilith from gettin" th" special book she wanted. Maybe he"d decided he"d stayed too long here and needed to get home."
Previous Top Next"Perhaps," Victoria commented, rather wondering what it would be like the first time she saw Max again. She felt that the animosity that had simmered beneath their politeness and forced proximity might have eased quite a bit, after all that had occurred, even though she was still annoyed that he"d left London so suddenly.
After all, she"d seen the impressive Max brought under the control and thrall of Lilith, showing a weakness she never would have attributed to him... and he had seen Victoria learn how to fight like a Venator and grow from an average debutante into a fierce, brave vampire hunter.
The gown of Verbena"s choice was fluttering down over Victoria"s shoulders before she realized the moment to stop it had pa.s.sed. "Not the mulberry!" she exclaimed in vain. " "Tis too bright!"
But the gown was on, and swiftly being b.u.t.toned up the back as Victoria looked at herself in the mirror. She did look well in the gown. Heavens, it had been more than a year since she"d been dressed so, and Verbena was right: it did bring out the faintest pink in her cheeks. She bit her lips, bottom, then top, and they plumped and reddened as though they"d been kissed.
"Very nice, my lady," Verbena told her, making a narrow braid from one long curl at the top of her crown. "Ye have nothing to feel guilty fer, now. You"ve mourned your husband fully and completely, and whilst ye"ll never stop loving him, ye must remember: You"re still here, and ye still have a life to live." She finished the braid and wound it around the rest of Victoria"s hair, piled at the back of her head.
"Yes, a life. And a duty." Her green-brown eyes glittered above her flushed cheeks.
Verbena"s blue eyes met her gaze again. "A duty you are well suited for." She slipped the last pin into her hair and smiled with satisfaction. "But it don"t mean ye have to be a nun."
Victoria nodded at her reflection, then rose from the chair. "Time to go down to dinner, then. Perhaps I"ll have a bit of gaiety before duty beckons me back to London."
"I"m hoping you do, my lady. Ye deserve it."
Victoria left her room on the second floor and made her way down to the drawing room, where the rest of the guests would gather before going in to dinner. She"d arrived only two hours earlier, and thus had had a short visit with Gwendolyn, and then had repaired to her room to change for dinner.
Now she walked into the large drawing room and found that several of the eleven who would be dining had already gathered.
Three gentlemen stood near one side of the room, and appeared to be holding hostage a bottle of some golden liquid. One of them Victoria recognized as Gwendolyn"s father, Viscount Claythorne. He was speaking with Baron Front worthy, Gwendolyn"s most ardent suitor.
"Victoria! You look lovely." Her friend rose and came to her side immediately. She was accompanied by an older, elegant woman. "May I make my aunt, Mrs. Manley, known to you, Lady Rockley."
Victoria curtsied and complimented the woman on her gown.
"Good evening, Lady Rockley."
Victoria turned at George Starca.s.set"s voice. He bowed over her proffered hand, and she made a brief curtsy. "Good evening, Mr. Starca.s.set. I must thank you again for making me one of your party."
"Gwendolyn and I are so very pleased to have you with us." He smiled and tucked her hand over his arm. "May I provide you with a sherry?"
"Indeed, that would be lovely." Victoria cast a smile over her shoulder at Gwendolyn, who appeared to be not at all surprised at her brother"s attentions. In fact, her friend"s twinkling eyes told her that she was quite pleased with the situation. "The others shall be joining us shortly. Mr. Berkley and his sister Miss Berkley, you might perhaps know, along with Mr.
Vandecourt. And our other guest," Starca.s.set told her as he presented her with a tulip-shaped gla.s.s, "I am certain you will be quite pleased to meet. He is rather a celebrity."
"A celebrity?" Victoria sipped the sweet sherry, looking up at Gwendolyn"s brother with her head tilted gently to the side. How wonderful it felt to be thinking, not of vampires and stakes, not of losses and grief, but of the handsome gentleman who stood before her.
"Indeed. Dr. John Polidori, the author."
Victoria blinked. No, apparently even here she could not get away from vampires.
Mr. Starca.s.set took her expression for confusion, and explained, "He wrote the book The Vampyre. It was published in New Monthly under Lord Byron"s name, but just recently it became known that Polidori is the true author. Though it is said that he based the vampire character of Lord Ruthven on Byron himself!"
"Indeed," Victoria murmured. It would be interesting to converse with Dr. Polidori. She wondered if he"d ever met a vampire.
Quite unlikely, for he wouldn"t be writing romantic novels about it if he had.
"Dr. Polidori and Mr. Vioget arrived only some minutes ago, and they hastened to change for dinner. We will wait for their arrival before going in to supper. Lady Rockley, is something the matter?"
"Dr. Polidori is not traveling alone?" Victoria managed to make her voice casual, but what should have been a small sip of sherry turned into a rather large gulp and set her to suppressing a rough cough.
"He travels with his friend Mr. Sebastian Vioget, whom he met, I believe, while lately in Italy with Byron."
"Italy? I see." So it was Sebastian, and he was here. With the author of a book about vampires. How very unexpected.
Victoria finished her sherry. The last time she"d seen Sebastian, she"d left him in his carriage after a most intimate interlude- which ended quite abruptly as he delivered her to a group of vampires out for her blood.
He"d had her half-undressed in that carriage, and lazy with desire, as she recalled, her face warming. He"d been delighted to learn that she"d broken her engagement with Phillip, and had attempted to take full advantage of her newly unbetrothed status... until she sensed the presence of vampires.