Bite Me, Your Grace (17 page)

Angelica sighed and attempted another compromise. “Could you at least try to only feed on men?”

His arms tightened around her and his hair fluttered in the wind, brushing across her cheek. “Already acting like a wife, I see. Very well, my treasured bride, I shall indulge you in this whenever possible.”

“Whenever possible?” she scoffed, vexed that he would not make an outright promise. “How would you feel about me placing my mouth on other men?”

“Do not press me, imp,” he growled with mock ferocity. “My hunger already makes me fierce.”

She grinned and licked his earlobe. “Ooh, promise?”

***

“Rosetta?” Thomas called as he ran down the narrow alley. “Please, slow down. This fog is devilish enough to navigate through without me having to chase you! Why do you have to run like a spooked horse anyway?”

Rosetta wheeled around and glared at the vampire. “If you didn't spend every night in brothels drinking opium-laced blood, your senses wouldn't be so dulled that you can't keep up with a youngling like me.”

In truth, she
was
spooked. The duke's new bride had spent an inordinate amount of time staring at her. As the duchess's dark eyes stared into hers, all she could think was:
She
knows!
And when the duke left with his bride without further instructions regarding the search for John Polidori's whereabouts, her suspicions rose tenfold.

Surely the woman was telling him all she knew, whatever it was. But what could the new duchess know? Rosetta was certain they had never met. Still, all the duchess would have to do was mention Rosetta to her husband, and Ian's suspicions would fall upon her. After that, it was only a matter of time before she was caught.

“Now, there's no call to be insulting,” Thomas interrupted her inner tirade. “I have some news that might interest you.”

“Oh? And what is that?” she asked, not slowing her pace. She was anxious to get home to John. She needed to make sure he was safe.

“I heard that Ben Flannigan, the vampire hunter, is in town. I heard the news from my Beth, who lives in Surrey.” His voice rose in frustration. “She was on the verge of moving here before His Grace banned petitions for relocation. We still write—”

“Ben Flannigan?” she interrupted, heart lodging in her throat.
The
most
dangerous
mortal
in
Britain
was
nearby, and all the fool could talk about was his lover?

Even a vampire as young as Rosetta had heard of the famous Irish vampire hunter. He was reputed to have more than a dozen vampire kills to his name. The Elders had not only given permission for any vampire to kill him, they encouraged doing so. Rumor had it that the man had become such a menace that they were thinking of offering a bounty upon his head. Another thought struck her cold. If Flannigan was in the area, then he was most likely responsible for Blanche's disappearance.

“Have you told the master?” she asked, stopping and turning to face him.

Though obscured by the fog, the scorn on Thomas's face was visible. “It was apparent to all that our lord was far too occupied with his new duchess to heed anything we underlings had to say. I cannot believe his blindness! To take a mortal bride…”

Rosetta shook her head, baffled by his outrage. “Such has been done before many times in this city, as well as the rest of the world. Love is one of the main reasons we increase our numbers.”

“Yes, but Rosetta,” Thomas cried. “He has no intention of Changing her! It was obvious from his words and how he cut me off when I tried to bring up the subject.”

“I derived no such thing. Besides, I cannot see a reason why he wouldn't Change her if he loves her,” she protested.
If
only
I
was
old
enough
to
Change
my
Johnny, then we wouldn't be in any danger.

Thomas snorted. “Who can say? Lately Burnrath behaves as if his mind is addled. Regarding this vampire hunter, I propose that we hunt him down ourselves. Perhaps His Grace would waken from his stupor if one of us presented him with Flannigan's head. Though, with the way he's behaving, he almost deserves to have that hunter camped at his back door, sharpening a stake.”

At the other vampire's words, an idea struck Rosetta with a force that nearly sent her reeling. The question was:
did
she
dare?

“Who else have you told about this?” She hoped her voice didn't waver.

If others knew, especially the Spaniard, she would think no more about it. Her plan would be too dangerous then. She shuddered, remembering Rafael's burning amber gaze that seemed to see all of her secrets. She added a silent prayer of thanks that the Spaniard was too busy supervising the lord vampires who were visiting for the Duke's wedding, as well as investigating Blanche's disappearance.

“Everyone else left so quickly that you were the first one I could tell.” Thomas stood close enough that she could smell the opium on his breath.

Rosetta fought to conceal her relief. Surely providence was with her this night. She straightened her spine and spoke with what she hoped was a scornful, yet reasonable tone. “Good, for no doubt if word returned to our master that we were plotting to kill the hunter without notifying him, he would take our plan as mutiny and the one responsible for inspiring the idea would likely suffer a punishment most severe.”

“I say, I didn't think about it that way.” Thomas slumped against a tavern wall, unmindful of the soot and grime coating it. “You are wise for your meager years, Rosetta. Do you think we should just tell him?”

“No!” she cried and then composed herself. Thomas was a drug-addled idiot. She couldn't imagine what would possess a vampire worth its salt to Change him. “That is, Burnrath seemed quite vexed with you tonight. Let me inform him of the vampire hunter's presence in London, and then when the moment is right, I'll tell him that the information came from you. After all,” she added. “I am too young to qualify for advancement to a loftier position. You, on the other hand…” She trailed off, allowing him to speculate.

“You may be right. But what if he does not believe you? Or worse, what if he does not listen or heed the danger?” Thomas scratched his beard. “Perhaps we should tell Ian's second.”

Rosetta hid her shiver with a mocking laugh. “
The
Spaniard
? If he hears a hunter is in town, he'll tear the city apart in his fury. You do realize that's what caused his injuries.” She shook her head. “Involving him is too dangerous. I say we follow through with your original plan and take care of this Ben Flannigan ourselves.”

Thomas chuckled. “That's my clever girl. At the rate you are headed, you will be lord of a city by the end of this century. We'll do it your way for now.”

When Thomas left, Rosetta shivered and rubbed her arms. Could she do it? Could she pass herself off as a human to this vampire hunter? There was no other way to contact him, for she couldn't risk putting anything in writing. She ran through the fog, cutting through the thick air like a predatory sword as she weighed the risks and hunted her next meal. Surely if this Flannigan spotted her for what she was, she could overpower him with ease.

And if she did nothing? If she continued to hide Polidori from the duke until he eventually discovered her ruse, which—from the way his wife and now the Spaniard looked at her—would be soon… then a multitude of likely punishments loomed overhead. She could handle the punishment, or so she preferred to believe, but the thought of what would happen to her beloved John struck chords of terror within her being.

And what if she went through with it and was caught? If the duke discovered that she'd hired a vampire hunter to assassinate him, her death would be painful, to say nothing of John's. That was the law when it came to traitors.

But
if
she
succeeded…

Rosetta allowed a rose of hope to bloom in her breast. She and John could be safe. She would kill the vampire hunter and none would be wiser. Then, while the Spaniard was occupied with taking the reins, she and John could leave the city peacefully. After a few years she could apply to her new lord to Change her love, or perhaps she would be powerful enough by then to do the deed herself.

She was so lost in thought that she nearly tripped over a vagrant lying in a gutter. As her fangs sank into his throat, another thought reared its ugly head. Could she bear having the murder of her master on her conscience? She'd never killed anyone before. And was the life of another worth the safety of her love?

Angelica spent the next two weeks in frantic preparation for her first ball. Her days were spent receiving callers, shopping, and planning the party. Her mother came every day to help with the invitations and seating arrangements, and the two gradually grew closer.

Her nights were spent in Ian's passionate embraces as he made love to her and afterward held her in his arms as they talked quietly together, replete in their passion. She had the windows boarded up on the entire upper story so that Ian could sleep with her. He was reluctant at first, but once she convinced him that not a sliver of sunlight would touch that level of the house and had the door armed with a massive lock so no one could disturb his rest, he consented to abandon his secret lair below the house.

Truly, it was bliss waking up warm and satiated beside him every morning, rather than in a cold, empty bed. People would surely talk about the covered windows, but she was certain that the “window tax” was still in effect… not that anyone would believe that Ian was short of funds. But in this case, the gossips could hang. Angelica wanted to spend every moment she could in her husband's arms.

Hopefully, her party would occupy most of society's attention and fodder for gossip. At least, that was Angelica's plan. She intended to draw their attention and possible censure from Ian to herself. Themed parties were all the rage, but she couldn't settle on just one, so she decided to use a few. The dishes would be Indian, the decor would be French, and the music would be performed by gypsies. And since Ian claimed that he liked her music, she decided to play a few pieces herself.

Before she knew it, Liza was marching her to her bedchamber to dress for the ball.

Angelica grinned mischievously as she caressed the folds of her velvet ball gown, which was a purple so dark that it looked black where the light didn't strike the fabric. She'd arranged for the ballroom to be decorated in black, silver, and royal purple.

Her ball would be the spectacle of the season.

***

The evening of the ball was warm and tranquil with the scent of lilacs coming in from the open windows. Angelica wished the tranquility would seep into her. When the guests began to pour in as Burke announced them, her stomach churned. Heading up the receiving line was frightening at first, but with her mother standing nearby whispering encouragement when she faltered, Angelica felt her courage increase.

Within the hour she felt like a seasoned hostess, curtsying and exchanging polite greetings and hiding her boredom with the redundancy of the ritual. As she smiled blandly at the scrutinizing looks aimed at her, she developed greater appreciation for her fellow hostesses and chatelaines of London households. All the same, she was relieved when her husband joined her.

“How is my Angel this evening?” Ian whispered before placing a proprietary arm around her waist.

Warmth curled in her body as she turned in his grasp to look upon his beloved visage. “Thus far, I've been at the brink of expiring from the tedium. But now that you are here, the festivities shall be much more enjoyable.”

She grinned up at his perplexed countenance before a maid handed her a glass to tap for silence, a gesture that was hardly necessary since nearly all were staring at them and trying to overhear their conversation for future
on-dits
to fuel their gossip circles.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my very first ball,” Angelica addressed her guests, trying to keep her voice steady. “I hope you all have a wonderful time, and the duke and I look forward to more of such occasions. Let the dancing begin.”

As Ian took her hand for the dance, his eyes strayed toward the platform upon which the gypsy musicians plied their trade. “I can always depend on you to make the most unique selections, my dear.” He did his best to adjust to the new rhythms and melodies of the song, and Angelica was whirled about far more intoxicatingly than she would have been during an average English cotillion. “The percussion is pleasing to dance to, Angel. It is a wonder that they do not accompany as often as one would think.”

Suddenly, a scream rent the air, coming from the east end of the ballroom floor. The music stopped and pandemonium momentarily broke out. As the crowd of dancers parted, Angelica saw a black form affixed to Miss Claire Belmont's skirts.

Claire was shrieking and batting ineffectually at Loki, who had sought new prey in the form of the ribbon tied at her waist.

Angelica suppressed most of her giggles as she made her way to Claire and carefully extracted the cat from her ensemble, passing him off to a helpful footman.

“My gown is ruined!” Claire cried, tears welling up in her eyes.

The young Baron Osgoode approached and bowed. “I assure you, Miss Belmont, you are breathtaking. Though if you would like some fresh air, I would be happy to escort you to the balcony.”

Claire blushed becomingly, and her eyes once more resembled those of a lioness on the hunt as she seized his proffered arm. “That would be lovely, Lord Osgoode.”

Angelica nodded her thanks to her former suitor, and Osgoode's face flushed scarlet as he bowed over her hand. “Y-your Grace,” he stammered.

“I see the lad hasn't forgotten his unseemly behavior toward you,” Ian murmured as the music and dancing resumed.

Angelica was claimed for the next dance by the Earl of Deveril—and as she now knew, the Lord of Cornwall—one of the few English lord vampires who'd accepted Ian's invitation to attend the wedding.

“I am happy you decided to quit being a wallflower, my lord.” She smiled up into his glittering, stormy eyes. “Are you truly Lord of
all
of Cornwall?”

His soft laughter rippled amidst the solemn music. “Ian was right about you, Your Grace. You
are
indeed fearless. There are not many of us in that region, so for now, I am in charge of the lot. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Vincent Tremayne.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Vincent. And I am honored that you traveled so far to attend my wedding, as well as my first ball.” Angelica bit back another question she longed to ask:
How
many
other
vampires
are
hidden
in
the
nobility? And how many other lord vampires are here?

“A mere handful are in the nobility, and only four lords were able to come.” He answered her thought as if she'd spoken aloud. “But to answer your first question, when I heard my good friend Ian had wed a mortal, I was curious to see her for myself,” he said with a soft smile. “And it was due time I ventured out of my castle. I'm certain you've heard I am a known recluse.”

Angelica gasped. “You can read my mind?”

Vincent smiled. “Only if you are thinking very loud.” He glanced over her shoulder and frowned.

Angelica glanced over her shoulder to see Rafael Villar holding up his usual pillar and glaring at Vincent once more. She patted Deveril's sleeve sympathetically. “Don't worry overmuch, my lord. He doesn't like me, either.”

Deveril shook his head. “I believe the unusual circumstances of your marriage to Ian vex him. He does not know how to deal with such a situation, and so it makes him nervous. As for his sharp eyes on me, the man is only doing his job. As another Lord Vampire in Ian's territory, I am seen as a potential threat.” He chuckled lightly. “Truly, the scoundrel can relax. I have no designs on the duke's territory or his bride, lovely though she may be.”

Before she could reply, Ian claimed her for a contra dance and Loki scurried up Deveril's leg. Apparently the kitten had escaped the footman. Angelica nearly erupted into paroxysms of laughter as she hid her face in her husband's chest.

“Loki seems to have taken a liking to the Lord Vampire of Cornwall,” she said. “Or at least his legs.”

Ian's silver eyes smiled down into hers, unaffected by her mention of the other vampire. “I can think of finer legs.”

She could swear the ballroom grew considerably warmer and decided a change of subject would be in order. “Do you like the musicians, my lord?”

Ian nodded. “Aside from the fact that their compositions are indeed difficult for dancing, I find them to be exotic enough for the theme of your party.”

Angelica hid a smile at his diplomatic expression of his disapproval. “Aren't they delightful?”

He frowned in their direction. “‘Delightful' would not be my chosen word. Powerful and highly accomplished would be more along my line of thinking.”

She couldn't suppress a laugh. “And you have not heard the leader sing yet.”

“One of them
sings
?” His incredulous look nearly doubled her hilarity. “Then perhaps we should cut the dancing short and ask them to perform after supper, as if we were hosting an opera.”

Angelica turned her head toward the dancers, who were struggling to find rhythm amidst the alien melodies. “Your plan has merit, Your Grace. I am afraid if we continue much longer, there shall be many bruised shins and broken toes. But now,” she said with an impish grin. “I am due for my performance.”

When Angelica mounted the platform and sat before the pianoforte, startled gasps permeated the room before they gave way to wild cheers as her fingers struck the keys. She grinned broadly and gave herself up to the music, feeling deliciously wild and free. Whispers reverberated through the audience as she sang. There were many mutters of disapproval as she left the piano to seat her guests for dinner, but a few beamed at her in admiration and complimented her on her unique entertainment. She met Ian's eyes and basked in his smile. Only his approval mattered.

“I see that you've once again set society on its ear,” he said with a grin as the servants entered with covered dishes. “Do you think it is wise for you to keep stirring them up with your peccadilloes?”

Angelica raised a brow. “Surely you would prefer that they talk about me, rather than having you continue to be the subject of those gossipmongers.”

He raised her knuckles to his lips. “I am fortunate to have such a champion.”

She smiled up at him. “That is why you married me, after all.”

The Indian dishes received mixed responses from the guests, even though she had taken pains to include foods that were not too spicy for those with tamer palates. Most comments from the people seated near her were compliments and inquiries of how she came up with the ideas for the ball and where she found the musicians. The majority of the guests appeared to be enjoying the evening, though she did spy a few sour countenances.

The Duchess of Wentworth took her aside to tell her good-bye. “Your ball was quite a crush, Your Grace, though a few seemed scandalized. Lord and Lady Lindsay now think you are ‘unpatriotic' so you likely won't be receiving invitations from them. And the dowager Countess of Morley has declared you to be ‘too fast.'” Her nose turned up in disapproval. “They are stuffy old coots, anyhow.”

“I only hope that those silly vampire rumors have abated.” Angelica watched her companion carefully.

Jane chuckled. “Oh, I wouldn't be worrying about that. Spirits are the new rage now.”

“Spirits?” Angelica's breath caught in fascination. Now here was good fodder for her writing!

Her Grace leaned forward with a conspirator's whisper. “Lady Pemberly will be hosting something called a ‘séance' next week. She wants to communicate with the spirit of her first husband. I could probably wrangle an invitation for you, if you are interested.”

Angelica's imagination was instantly stimulated. “I would like that.” Vampires
and
spirits! This ball was indeed a success!

She bid her friend good-bye and was occupied for the next hour in assisting her guests with their leave-taking.

While searching the house for intoxicated stragglers, she heard hushed voices in the library. She peeked in the doorway and saw Ian and the Spaniard, who she now knew to be his second in command. The two were seated before the fireplace, sharing a bottle of port.

“I still do not approve of this marriage, Ian,” Rafael said as he swirled his glass of wine. “Though she is very beautiful and seems to adore you.”

Her cheeks grew pink at the unexpected compliment. So he didn't hate her after all! Angelica held back from entering, eager to hear what Ian would say about her.

“Have you yet come up with a plan as to what to do with her in the future?” Rafael's tone was strangely ominous.

Angelica's heart pounded and she leaned in closer to the doorway. Surely now Ian would announce his intention to Change her.

Her husband's voice was gruff. “I will live with her as man and wife for a few more years, but before it is noticed that I do not age, I will have to leave her. She will tell everyone I died on a trip, and I'll return perhaps fifty years later as my own heir, as usual. I will leave her well off, naturally…”

Angelica couldn't bear to hear more. Hot and cold tremors assaulted her body, and a giant fist seemed to clamp on her heart. She fled up to her chamber, choking on the bitter tears that wrenched their way out of her rattled form.

“…as usual,” Ian had said. Her heart clenched with dawning horror. How many other women had he done this to? How many like her had he used and deceived?

***

“I still maintain that acquiring a mortal bride has created a dreadful inconvenience.” Rafe scowled as he lit his cigar. “Have you done such a thing before?”

Ian shook his head. “No, I've never married. And I agree that it complicates matters, but I shall have to make the best of it.”

“Then why do you not Change her?” Rafe protested. “You of all vampires should be aware of the danger in leaving a mortal with knowledge of our secrets. And I have seen the way you look at her,
mi
amigo.
Your passion for her is obvious to anyone with eyes in his skull.”