Bite Me, Your Grace (16 page)

There were two orange kittens and a black one, rolling and tumbling over each other in the most adorable manner. She wished she could take all three, but one would likely be enough of a handful. After a long moment of deliberation, she chose the black one, thinking his soft coat would match the duke's silver and black colors quite nicely.

“Is this one a boy or a girl?” she asked softly, hating her ignorance.

The girl took the kitten from her hands, turned it around, and lifted its tail. “This un's a boy,” she said frankly, handing the tiny feline back to her.

Angelica blushed at her naivety and clutched the warm black ball of fur to her bosom, inhaling the musty feline scent with delight as she reached into her reticule and handed them all the money she carried. Guilt washed over her anew. From the look of their wan faces and shabby clothing, it wasn't nearly enough.

The children's eyes grew wide as saucers as they looked at the coins and took note of the regal crest on the coach parked nearby. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” they chorused and bowed.

“My thanks to you, children,” she said, hiding a sad smile. If only she were the monarch. Perhaps then she could do more for them.

As Angelica climbed into the carriage, she saw John Polidori come around the corner. She nearly leaped out of the carriage to follow him, but the kitten mewed and recaptured her attention. As the conveyance made its way down the street, she peered out of the curtains one last time to see him disappear into the apothecary's shop.

For a moment she wondered if she should tell Ian of the sighting, but when she remembered the mad manner in which he had behaved the last time he saw the chap, she decided not to. She couldn't bear the thought of her husband murdering the writer. Perhaps when Ian had calmed a little more over the matter, she could mention the sighting.

***

The moment Ian walked into his house, he was attacked. He looked down at the little scrap of black fur that was determined to shred the left leg of his trousers, his brows raised in disbelief. Cats usually fled from him, instinctively recognizing that he was dangerous. This kitten was either completely fearless, or it hadn't had the benefit of instruction from its mother.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Burke said. “The wee creature was making a nuisance of itself during the duchess's fitting, so he had to be put out of the room.”

“Very good,” Ian said, handing the butler his coat and hat. “Where is she, by the way?”

The butler bowed. “In the blue salon, Your Grace.”

Ian nodded and picked up the kitten. He stroked the tiny animal behind the ears and grinned as it immediately began to purr. “Come along, scamp. Let us go see your mistress.”

The room looked as if a rainbow had exploded within. Myriad silks, batistes, muslins, and velvets in every conceivable color were draped across every available space, while an army of seamstresses buzzed around his wife like worker bees, each holding up fabrics for her approval. His tiny bride stood regally on a raised platform, alternately nodding and shaking her head at their offerings like a queen.

He only had a second to enjoy the enchanting scene before Madame DuPuis spotted him and curtsied low. “Your Grace.”

The room echoed with feminine gasps as the seamstresses saw him and curtsied with wide eyes. “Your Grace,” they chorused.

“Your ‘wedding present' is a fierce hunter.” Ian grinned at his wife, wishing more than anything that they could be alone. “He attacked me the moment I came into the house.”

Angelica smiled, displaying a fetching dimple on one cheek before she chastised her new pet. “Loki, you naughty kitten!”

Ian laughed at the clever name. He had expected something simple like “Blackie” or “Custard.” He scratched the kitten behind the ears once more. “Loki, the Norse trickster god. What, pray tell, was the inspiration for that?”

Her voice was rife with laughter. “He likes to feign sleeping before he assaults the seamstresses' skirts.”

“Very clever. Still, I have my doubts about his ability to solve the rodent problem. Many rats are his size or larger.” Ian fought to keep his attention on the conversation, but the sight of Angelica in her underclothes was most distracting.

“He will grow.” Her eyes shone with adoration as she looked at the kitten. “Isn't he the most precious thing you have ever seen?”

He looked down at the kitten, curled up in the crook of his arm, Loki was either fast asleep or doing a commendable job of feigning repose. “Not as precious as you, though I admit he is an interesting little fellow.”

But
not
as
interesting
as
you
, Ian thought as he gazed at his bride. His life had been bland and cheerless before she came into it, bringing light and laughter. He didn't know how he would continue on without her.

While the seamstresses finished up and departed, Angelica regaled him with her adventures of the day and plans for decorating the house and hosting her first ball. She was so anxious to show him her “writing room” that she leaped off the platform and ran out of the salon in nothing but her chemise and drawers. It took all of his effort to keep a dignified expression before the scandalized servants as he followed her up the stairs, admiring her pert backside.

“Isn't it magnificent?” she cried, smoothing her hands along the cherry wood surface of the desk with unabashed joy.

“I think
you
are magnificent, Angelica,” he whispered. Her happiness warmed a heart that had long been cold.

“And look at this!” She bent over to open the cupboards, revealing the drawers. Ian nodded, his trousers tightening at the sight of her. She didn't appear to notice. “Isn't that clever? I will be able to store more projects than I can write at one time.”

When she pointed that heart-shaped derriere in his direction, Ian was undone. With a low growl, he grabbed her from behind, cupping her breasts in his palms and grinding himself against her body.

“A man can only take so much temptation,” he whispered, and nibbled along her neck, gratified to hear her soft moan of desire. “If you do not want me to ravage you, you should put on more clothing next time.”

“And if I do want you to ravage me?” she whispered breathlessly.

He turned her around to face him. Her lips were deliciously full and moist, her pupils dilated with desire. “Anything my duchess pleases.” He claimed her lips, reveling in the sweet taste of her before he reluctantly stepped back and locked the door.

She gasped and turned a delightful shade of pink as he removed her chemise. “Here?”

He nodded and took one firm nipple into his mouth. “Yes, here. I can wait no longer.”

His hands and mouth explored her delectable body like he was a starving man. This woman was intoxicating; she invaded his blood. And the fact that he only was able to enjoy her for a short period during his long life made him more determined to savor every moment with her.

Her blush deepened when he slid her lacy undergarments slowly down her hips and slender legs. He lifted her onto the desk and knelt between her parted thighs.

“What are you going to do?” she gasped, shuddering.

“I am going to taste you,” he whispered between light kisses on her delicate folds.

With the first flick of his tongue, she cried out and her hips nearly bucked off the desk. He had to pin down her thighs as he languorously explored her secrets with his mouth. The heady musk of her arousal soon permeated the room. Her taste was a delicate bouquet, ambrosia fit for Eros himself.

He groaned with satisfaction as she squirmed and moaned in his grip. Ian looked up at his bride. Her back was arched and her full, heaving breasts pointed upward, the muscles of her firm belly flexing beautifully with her movements. She was as exquisite as a goddess of lust, and as she climaxed under his mouth, he knew he was closer to paradise.

He couldn't take the time to remove his clothes, so hungry was he to take her. He unfastened his pants and plunged inside her, groaning in pleasure as her tight silken sheath closed around him. Angelica wrapped her arms and legs around him, her hips rocking against his powerful thrusts. This is paradise, he thought a second before his ecstasy peaked and he exploded.

“That was magnificent,” she panted.

A wave of tenderness washed over Ian as he watched his bride dress. Her passion and boundless curiosity for life had awakened him. Before Angelica had come into his life, he'd only been half alive. Careful, he admonished himself. If he weren't cautious, he may find himself in love with her.

The chef completely outdid himself for the evening meal, serving the duke and duchess salmon poached in herbs and swimming in a light butter sauce, creamy potato-leek soup, and rich, stuffed game birds. All was complemented with exquisitely sweet ratafia.

Angelica moaned with delight as she savored a spoonful of blackberries drenched in sweet cream. She opened her eyes to see Ian watching her with undisguised hunger.

“I am sorry, Your Grace,” she said with a blush. “I forgot myself. I wish you could better enjoy this exquisite meal.”

His silver eyes glittered. “Your delight in it pleases me sufficiently. I see you had quite an appetite.” He raised a mischievous brow and lowered his voice. “I would endeavor to know why?”

“Ian!” she gasped, her face burning as she glanced around to be certain the servants were not near. “Are you determined to keep me covered in blushes?”

His lips curved in a seductive smile. “Mmm, blushes are all I would like you to be covered with.”

After their plates were cleared away, Angelica wiped her lips with her napkin. “Are we going to enjoy a quiet evening at home, Your Grace?” She tried to keep the anticipation from her voice at the thought of touching him again.

He frowned. “As delightful as that sounds, I am afraid we have an engagement that I have been putting off. I need to present you to my subordinates and receive their vows for your protection.”

Angelica leaped out of her seat with unladylike haste. “I get to meet more vampires? I will go fetch my cape!” Her pulse sped at the prospect of delving deeper into Ian's world.

His frown deepened at her enthusiasm. “Keep your voice down.” He inclined his head toward the doorway. “There are other ears about.”

She nodded with a wink and said louder, “I would so love to pick some lilacs on our stroll, Your Grace.”

The butler met them in the foyer. “Will you be needing the carriage, Your Grace?”

“No, thank you, Burke,” Ian said as he donned his hat. “My wife and I would like to enjoy the spring air.” He grinned. “Aside from that, I do believe that Felton requires a little more rest from running my wife pell-mell across London.”

When they were out of earshot and on a street without gas lamps, Angelica asked, “How far are we going?”

Ian smiled secretively. “Oh, the meeting area is near the Tower of London.”

She gasped. “That is quite a long walk.” Her feet seemed to ache in protest.

He tipped her chin up and leaned down. “I never said we were going to walk,” he whispered against her lips, pulling her into his arms. “Hold on to me tightly.”

With a delighted sigh, she obeyed, savoring the feel of his hard form against her. Angelica's belly flipped as they slowly rose into the air. She clung to him and fought to hold back a shriek. “You can fly?” she squeaked.

“It is a rare talent among my kind.” His voice rumbled against her chest. “Though I confess I do not care to do it often.”

“B-but what if someone sees us?” she asked, clinging to him tighter, unable to hide her worry.

Ian laughed. “It is not a strong instinct in human nature to look up. Besides, I highly doubt anyone could spy us in this thick fog. And I suppose if anyone did catch a glimpse, they would say nothing in fear of being thought ready for Bedlam.”

She peeked down the line of their bodies past their toes. They had risen much higher now. The city of London sprawled out below them, church spires rising from the fog and the light from the gas lamps twinkling like captive stars. The world below had turned into a fairy land right before her eyes, and her writer's imagination longed to capture every second of this new and incredible experience.

They touched down behind a ramshackle stone building that resembled a church. She nearly sighed in disappointment that the flight was over until she remembered that she would be meeting all of London's vampires… Ian's vampires.

He pulled a handkerchief from his waistcoat and tied it around her head so the thick fabric covered her eyes. “It is forbidden for a mortal to see our gathering place,” he explained.

Angelica bit back a protest. Surely that should not be relevant since he would be turning her into a vampire soon.
Wouldn't he?
She fell into a pensive silence and allowed him to guide her forward.

The sound of a door opening let her know that they had entered the lair. Ian helped her down an awkward procession of steep stone stairs as she struggled to hang on to him and keep hold of her skirts at the same time. She sighed in relief when her feet finally touched a flat surface.

Even before he led her to the center of the room she could feel other eyes upon her. Ian removed the blindfold and she choked on a small scream. One hundred and thirty-five vampires did not
seem
like all that many when Ian had told her how many lived in London; but seeing them all gathered around her at once made them appear to be a vast multitude.

Angelica noticed a few familiar faces within the crowd, most notably the scowling Spaniard who had attended her wedding reception. For a moment, their eyes met and she sucked in a breath at his blatant hostility.
Bloody
hell, what did I ever do to him?
Refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear, she turned to survey the rest of the throng.

At first, all of the vampires appeared to be male, but before she could ask Ian about it, she looked closer at the sea of faces watching her and saw that there were indeed female vampires. They were all dressed in men's clothing.
Fascinating…
Angelica couldn't wait to ask Ian about these women.

“Good evening, blood drinkers of London,” Ian's voice boomed with authority. “As many of you already know, I have taken a mortal bride. With great pleasure, I present to you Angelica Ashton, my new Duchess of Burnrath. Sense my Mark upon her and know that to harm her is to bring forth my wrath.”

His statement invoked a variety of reactions from the audience. Some vampires grinned and clapped. A few smiled faintly and murmured, “Your Grace.” The Spaniard continued to glare. Many shifted uncomfortably on their feet, as though confused about what to make of the situation. A few of the women sported petulant countenances. Apparently the ladies of the
ton
were not the only ones who had vied for her handsome duke's affections.

One female in the group caught Angelica's eye. She also looked unhappy, but in a different manner. Her downcast eyes, hunched shoulders, and stiffly crossed arms seemed to convey fear, or possibly shame. But what could she possibly be afraid of? Ian seemed to be a just and honorable lord. Angelica studied the vampire, whose fine-boned features and short-cropped onyx hair made her resemble a pixie more than a monster of legend. She was certain this woman hadn't attended her wedding. But before she could speculate further, a large male pushed his way through the crowd.

“Permission to speak, Your Grace?” Rage glittered in his hazel eyes.

Ian frowned in obvious irritation. “Yes, Thomas?”

“Why have you done this thing, Your Grace? It is dangerous and unseemly to expose humans to our secrets, especially in light of recent events.” He looked back at the other vampires as many murmured in agreement, especially the Spaniard. “I see that she is a succulent piece, but—”

Ian silenced the young vampire with a low growl and placed a proprietary arm around Angelica's shoulders. “I would have more caution in regards to my tongue if I were you.”

Thomas cringed and held up his hands, taking a step backward. “Perhaps we would be more at ease if you would favor us with an explanation of why you have put us all at risk.”

The Spaniard nodded and locked eyes with Ian. The duke sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his hair. “Very well, Thomas, I suppose you are right about that.”

To Angelica's embarrassment, he launched into the story of her foray into the Burnrath mansion and the subsequent scandal that ensued. The chamber echoed with laughter at the tale. Everywhere candlelight gleamed off exposed fangs. Angelica leaned in to her husband's powerful body, suddenly aware that she was surrounded by predatory creatures and she was the only prey in sight.

“So you see,” Ian concluded, “there was not a better option. After all, I could not kill her. Not only is it forbidden, but due to her position in society and the gossip about me incited by Dr. Polidori's story, it would have been a fatal mistake for her to turn up missing. I have already informed the Elders of my actions, so my decision is final.”

Most of the vampires nodded in agreement as Ian continued with a grin, “Not only that, but my marriage to this little imp has silenced all gossip regarding my nocturnal proclivities.” He sobered and added, “Which is better than you have done in your search for Dr. Polidori.”

Most of the audience seemed to accept his explanation, but Angelica frowned. He didn't once mention that he loved her, or even that he liked her. She looked back at the sea of vampires. Perhaps he did not wish to sound weak in front of these powerful beings.

Thomas came forward again. “But why do you not—”

Ian held up a hand. “I have explained enough. I must get my bride home so that I may feed. But first, I ask that you all swear to protect this woman from harm when I am absent.”

Angelica's heart warmed that Ian cared about her fate if something were to happen to him. She expected many of them to refuse, but to her surprise, all nodded and went down on their knees before her and placed their hands over their hearts.

Their voices rang out in a dark melody. “Angelica Ashton, Duchess of Burnrath and bride of our master, we swear to you and our lord that in his absence, we will endeavor to watch over you and keep you from harm all the nights of your life.”

The words were touching, though surely they would never need to fulfill their vows. Her husband was so strong and powerful that she was confident no one could defeat him. She curtsied and thanked them as Ian once more addressed his vampires.

“I have received responses to my letters from nearly all of the neighboring lords.” Ian's expression was full of sad resignation. “None have seen or heard any sign of Blanche's whereabouts. Though I ask you all to keep up your vigilance, I am afraid that such may be a fruitless endeavor. It is becoming more likely every night that she is dead.”

As the vampires bowed their heads in solemn sorrow, Angelica's eyes closed in sadness for their loss of a comrade. How did Blanche die? Surely a vampire could not be easy to kill. She looked up at her husband, awash with sympathy for his burden, even as she was filled with admiration for his brilliant and compassionate leadership.

Ian covered her eyes with the blindfold once more and led her back up the stairs and out into the night.

When the cloth was removed from her eyes, the first thing she saw was the scowling Spaniard. A startled squeak escaped her and the vampire actually flinched. A glimmer of pain flashed in his amber eyes before his ruthless sneer returned.

“I apologize if my ugliness offends your tender sensibilities, Your Grace,” he growled bitterly.

“It wasn't that, Mister…” She shrugged helplessly as the vampire stood stoically, refusing to give his name. Ian placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shook off his gesture, determined to make peace with this hostile man. “I was merely startled to see someone else when my blindfold was removed. To be honest, I think you are very handsome, in a rare, unique sort of manner.”

Her cheeks burned as he continued to stare at her. Had she offended him yet again?

Finally, he responded, his voice rough and gravelly. “I am Rafael Villar, ever at your service, Your Grace.”

He bowed low and she presented her hand as if he were any other titled gentleman of her acquaintance. Again, he blinked at her in surprise and looked at Ian as if for permission. At Ian's nod, he tentatively raised her hand and brushed the lightest of kisses across her knuckles as if afraid his touch would soil her.

Quickly, he stepped back, his piercing amber gaze intent on Ian. “I still do not like this, Your Grace.” With that, he disappeared into the shadows.

“Well, he certainly is a charming sort,” Angelica said with a light laugh. “One could almost suppose he does not like me.”

Ian smiled. “Rafe doesn't like anybody. And yet, I think you've charmed him.” He took her in his arms and her stomach pitched once more as the world fell below them.

The fog was so thick over the city that Angelica had no idea how Ian could see where he was flying. She decided to combat her anxiety with questions. “Why were all the female vampires dressed as men?”

“They dress in trousers so they can move in relative safety through the city while they hunt.” Ian's voice was muffled by the wind. “Not only that, but prostitutes approach men more often, so it is an easy meal.”

“
Prostitutes
?” she shrieked in outrage and nearly let go. “You feed on prostitutes?”

Ian adjusted his hold on her. “Most of the time. I get a meal, and after I pay them, they do as well.”

Her eyes narrowed against the chilly air as an uncomfortable pang struck her heart. “You don't do anything else with them, do you?”

“Never the poor street drabs, and as for the cleaner, more expensive ones, not since I met you.” He paused before adding, “This is hardly a decent subject to discuss with a wife.”

Angelica wanted to argue but decided she could do better with sweetness. She held him closer, inhaling his scent, and whispered against his neck, “You do not have to go elsewhere to feed, Your Grace. I do not think I can countenance the very idea of your lips on another woman's neck.”

Ian chuckled. “There is no reason for you to be jealous, my love. I must feed at least twice a night—more, in fact, due to our passionate nights together. I am afraid that you alone cannot sustain me, though I will accept your offer for tonight.”