A Night of Forever (2 page)

Mary Ellen gave her sister a tight smile.
“Perhaps.”

“Good.” Meg kissed her cheek. “Now, Sally dear, do
help me down the steps. I must see that everything is in order for
the festivities. While I’m planning and plotting, you must find
Hanna and keep her occupied. The child is bored and intent on
making mischief.”

Sally took Meg’s arm and they started toward the
steps. “Cook said if I look into a mirror on Hallow’s Eve, I’ll see
the face of the man I’m to marry.”

“Sally, that’s pagan and sinful.”

They started down the steps. “So is your
celebration, but you’re still having it!”

“Well, yes, but that’s different.”

“Meg, please let me attend the ball! I promise I’ll
behave.”

“Darling, I told you not this year. There will be
much too much indulging in things a young lady dare not
witness.

“Which is exactly why I want to go,” Sally
muttered.

Mary Ellen grinned.

“Perhaps next year,” Meg replied.

“It’s not fair…”

Mary Ellen watched the two until they disappeared
into the foyer, taking their argument with them. Meg might have
been fortunate enough to marry a rich man who adored her, but Mary
Ellen was realistic.

She moved to the window at the end of the hall and
glanced outside. A patchwork of fall colors—red, yellow and
orange—quilted the landscape. And there, below in the garden, the
bench was now empty. Aidan gone.

Mary Ellen sighed, leaning her forehead against the
chill glass window. Why couldn’t she forget the man?

She knew that love and money didn’t often go hand in
hand. She would be silly to believe she could find both. And if she
had to choose, she would, undoubtedly, choose money.

****

For two months now Aidan had fantasized about Mary
Ellen James. For two months nothing else had occupied his mind.

From the moment he’d stepped from the carriage,
intending to visit his friend Grayson Bellamont for a much needed
rest, and had seen the man’s sister-in-law with the flaming red
hair, he’d been rather obsessed. Even now he was acutely aware of
her hiding behind those daisies. He’d sensed her the moment he’d
stepped outside. Drawn to her like a mongrel to a bone.

In the evening, he watched her as she pushed her
green beans around her plate, pretending to eat her vegetables. He
studied her while she read those gothic novels, her face showing
her every emotion as she became fully immersed in the story.

He adored the way she constantly hummed. The way the
light hit her hair and made her glow as if she held the very sun.
He even adored the way she took such pains to care for her gowns,
smoothing the wrinkles and frowning over a mere speck of dirt as if
she’d never owned anything so valuable.

Yes, the woman absolutely intrigued him.

Unfortunately, she was doing her damnest to pretend
he didn’t exist. Not that she was indifferent. No, he knew she was
attracted to him, he could sense it, hear it in the tremble of her
voice, see it in the way she flushed when he was near. Hell, he
could smell the desire, a scent that riled the beast hidden deep
within. Aidan’s fingers curled around the book he held, his nails
digging into the leather binding as he forced himself not to look
her way.

The worst of it was realizing he could seduce her so
easily, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t betray Grayson. Besides, he
wasn’t what she wanted. What she needed. She’d made that clear upon
many occasion. Her words hadn’t been meant for his ears, but he’d
heard them all the same.

“
When I marry, he’ll be rich and titled.”

The bitterness he felt at the words was so unlike
him. But then again, so were the emotions he felt when she was
near. It had been years since a female had piqued his interest, and
a human female at that. Why here? Why now? And why couldn’t he
bloody stop thinking about her?

Aidan sensed Grayson before the man appeared in
front of him, silent as an owl swooping down on a field mouse.
“Gray.”

His friend paused under the maple, his pale face
intense, his green eyes so knowing that it was hard for Aidan to
meet his gaze. “Aidan. How do you fare?”

Aidan dropped the book to the bench, hoping Gray
hadn’t noticed the indents from his fingernails, and glanced toward
the house once more. Mary Ellen had disappeared inside with her
younger sister Sally. It was as if the very sun had hidden behind a
cloud.

“Well enough.”

A shout of laughter drew his attention to Hanna, the
youngest in the family, who was jumping in a pile of leaves the
gardener had just raked. The old man was hurrying toward her, his
fist raised. Grayson merely grinned.

“Little ruffian,” he said with pride.

Aidan managed to smile, it was the most he could do.
Obsessed, that’s what he was. Yes, he’d smelled Mary Ellen’s scent
the moment he’d stepped outside. And like a mongrel, he’d followed
the scent to the bench. He’d seen her immediately, that red hair
like a beacon even though she was half-hidden amongst the flowers,
watching him… always watching him although trying desperately not
to.

“
You’re always staring at him,”
her younger
sister Sally had said, although Mary Ellen had denied the
accusation. He wasn’t what she wanted. What she needed. He had to
constantly remind himself. But the animal inside didn’t care. The
animal only wanted her for his own.

Grayson glanced toward the brittle and brown patch
of daisies where Aidan was focused. “What do you find so
intriguing?”

Aidan bit back his laugh. “Nothing at all. Merely
anxious to be in my own home.” If only the man knew the truth. He
doubted Grayson would think kindly on the fact that he was
imagining seducing his sister-in-law. “How are preparations for the
festival coming along?”

“Well, although I can’t claim to be involved. Meg is
handling the affairs.” He glanced back at the house, the corners of
his lips quirking. The same smile he wore whenever he mentioned his
wife. An intimate look that always made him uneasy, a reminder of
his own past romances.

How envious Aidan was of the man’s happiness.

But just as quickly as his smile had appeared, it
vanished. Grayson settled beside him, resting his elbows on his
knees. “I have a bad feeling about this festival.”

Surprised, Aidan stiffened, immediately troubled.
Grayson’s instincts were usually spot on. “What do you mean?”

Grayson’s intense gaze met his. “You know as well as
I that there are those who would see us harmed, if not worse. Those
who do not accept our kind. After what happened here, with Meg, and
then Nate…” He swallowed hard, the emotion evident.

“It’s been some time since they were attacked,”
Aidan reminded him.

Grayson didn’t respond. Looking out upon the
beautiful and peaceful gardens ripe with reds and yellows of
autumn, it was hard to believe there was any evil in the world. But
he knew better than anyone what lurked in the shadows. Hell, most
would consider him part of that nightmare. Perhaps he was. His
former fiancé certainly placed him in the same category as demons
and devils.

“I’m sure all will be well,” Grayson said, although
it was obvious by the tone of his voice that he was still uneasy.
“Meg insisted upon the festival, claiming we must make friends with
our neighbors if we are to live in peace. I think she merely wants
more allies, should the time come when we need them. As if they
could help. But when a woman is with child, it’s best to merely nod
and agree.”

“And when she’s not with child?”

Grayson grinned and slid him a wry glance. “Same
thing. Nod and agree.”

He’d remembered that feeling with his fiancé. They’d
been giddy with adoration, both trying to please the other, seeing
no fault. But there had been one thing she couldn’t overlook. It
hadn’t worked with his fiancé and it would never work with Mary
Ellen. The longer he stayed here, the more the impossibility of it
all tore at his insides.

“You haven’t fed in some time.” Grayson watched him
closely, too closely. “You’re pale, your eyes too light in
color.”

Aidan studied a red leaf as it rolled across the
crushed stone path, chased by the autumn wind. “No, I haven’t.”

“Starving yourself will not change who you are. You
need to feed, especially before the festival. All those warm bodies
in one room will drive you mad.”

Aidan nodded, although he didn’t agree. He liked to
suffer the pangs of hunger. A punishment of sorts for what he’d
been born.

Grayson had no idea he’d already gone mad thinking
about Mary Ellen, of what he could never have. He’d find no joy in
feeding, although his body craved blood as a man in a desert would
crave water.

“Come Hanna,” Grayson called out. “Leave poor Mr.
Miller alone.”

The child pouted, but headed his way, brushing
leaves from her green gown.

Grayson turned back toward Aidan. “Before I take my
leave, Meg wanted me to remind you that you are welcome to stay
here as long as you’d like. Certainly until your cottage is
repaired. Of course with four overly emotional females in
residence, you might be better off sleeping in a rundown
estate.

Aidan nodded, smiling. “Thank you. But I don’t wish
to overstay my welcome. The house is almost complete. I shall move
within a fortnight.”

Grayson slapped him on the back in a companionable
way. “Good to know. You need your own home. A family.”

“A happily ever after?” Aidan replied blandly.

Grayson stood, grinning down at him. The man knew
how ridiculous he sounded, but didn’t give a shite. “It will
happen. Look at me.”

Indeed. Grayson had the ideal life. A woman who
didn’t care what he truly was. Who loved him anyway. Could he ever
find such peace and happiness? He glanced back at the house.
Perhaps, but obviously not with Mary Ellen.

Hanna paused by Grayson, her little face full of
knowledge. They were all of the same bond, the same being and it
showed in their bearing, in their very eyes. Although she was
merely a young lass, she could kill an adult human, if she so
wished.

“You’re sure you’ll be well enough when they start
arriving?” Grayson asked.

Aidan sighed. Was the man worried he’d go feral and
feast upon the guests? “You know as well as I that I’m not a
monster, Gray.” Although he had to admit there were some would
whole-heartedly disagree.

“I’m rather bored,” Sally complained to Meg in an
overly harsh whisper that drew the attention of practically
everyone in the sitting room.

A few unattached younger women giggled behind their
needlework, wishing they were so bold. The three married ladies in
attendance smiled kindly, most likely remembering days when they
were as free. While the two elder aunts Meg had been forced to
invite out of fear of offending their distant family frowned at
Sally’s frankness. Mary Ellen could imagine the stories they would
take home.

“
Money certainly hasn’t changed the James girls.
Why, they’re as shocking as ever.”

“Sally,” Meg reprimanded.

Sally didn’t seem to mind. She sighed long and loud,
resting her chin in her palm as she slumped against the settee next
to Meg. Meg was knitting a tiny yellow baby bonnet, while Sally was
pretending to work on a sampler. But with a quick glance around the
richly furnished room that Grayson had redecorated in a light blue
French fashion for Meg, Mary Ellen realized that most of the women
were merely pretending to sew. She worried her bottom lip between
her teeth, setting her own sampler upon the arm of the chair where
she rested near the marble hearth.

Meg might not care about the lack of adventurous
activities, for she was too content with life at the moment to
notice much but her own happiness, but Mary Ellen would not allow
the town and
ton
to gossip about what a bore her sister’s
gathering had been. She glanced toward the windows. Raindrops
pattered against the glass and trailed down the panes. Any outdoor
activity had been canceled, the weather forcing them inside. As of
yet only a handful of guests had arrived, but already they were
growing restless, apparent by the sound of rustling skirts and
tedious sighs.

“Sally, dear,” Meg said, not bothering to look up
from her knitting. “Perhaps you’d care to check on Hanna and the
other children?”

Mary Ellen didn’t miss the meaning…if Sally couldn’t
sit silently by, she was not ready to be in the parlor with the
adults. She swallowed her groan, knowing Sally was one harsh
comment away from crying. The girl wailed at the drop of a hatpin.
At times it was bloody exhausting being the calm between two
storms. Meg was the unofficial mother to them all, there was no
doubt. But Mary Ellen was the kindly aunt whom everyone went to
with their problems, the one who must soothe the ruffled
feathers.

Sally flushed. “I apologize.”

“Perhaps we should attempt something different,”
Mary Ellen said quickly, before an argument erupted. “A stroll
through the conservatory?”

“Or maybe a game!” Elizabeth Palmer suggested,
jumping to her slippered feet and nearly pulling the unfashionably
low neckline of her satin gown to her waist. Really, it was a
country garden party yet she dressed as if at a ball in London. But
the woman was all golden perfection with her pale skin and blonde
hair, and so easily forgiven.

Mary Ellen narrowed her eyes as the woman adjusted
her gown. Her own light lavender dress she’d taken such pains to
choose paled in comparison to the golden goddess’s bold cranberry
skirts. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Elizabeth did these
things on purpose, for she always needed to be at the center of all
attention. Mary Ellen had never been fond of the woman; she was
entirely too proud of herself. The way she clung to men when they
entered the room, was downright shameful. The way she’d clung to
Aidan
when they’d been introduced annoyed Mary Ellen more
than it should have. Indecent, she was.