Demon of Mine (17 page)

“
I won’t,” Elsie agreed as
she took the dress out of the wardrobe, reverently caressing the
lace.

“
You two appear to be
roughly the same size. I think this will fit, but if it doesn’t we
can try another.” He took it from her hands and held it aloft, as
if waiting for her to do something.

Fighting down a wave of nervousness,
Elsie realized he was waiting for her to undress. Though her thin
robe left little to the imagination, a thrill of daring shot
through her as she grasped the belt and prepared to pull it undone.
Perhaps it was silly after the way they’d made love the night
before, but she couldn’t imagine ever undressing in front of him
and not feeling the vaguely naughty wave of excitement. She tugged
on the ties and the neck loosened, gaping open to expose a generous
portion of cleavage. Considering the way her nipples peaked against
the thin fabric, she might as well have bared her breasts entirely.
“I’ll need undergarments,” she said, pausing.

“
I borrowed a clean chemise
for you.” He lifted an airy garment from the wardrobe.

She eyed the nearly diaphanous shift
and nodded, swallowing a comment on the sparseness of the fine
undergarment as she finally opened her robe.

He eyed her from head to toe, taking
his time as his gaze traveled over her naked body. Her nipples
hardened as she remembered the press of his mouth against them, and
her channel began to dampen, tightening in memory of being filled
by him. He was dressed in pantaloons and a clean white shirt, but
one look below his waist confirmed his desire. The outline of his
rigid cock sent a wave of clenching longing through her, fueled by
vivid recollections of their joining.

With a wistful sigh, he surrendered
the delicate chemise. “You had better put this on. Though I am not
quite human, I am no less susceptible to your beauty than a normal
man, and it has been three long days.”

A pleasure that had nothing to do with
physical sensations flared within Elsie as she took the garment and
pulled it over her head. When she’d finished, her eyes met his
again for half a moment before his gaze plunged below to her
breasts. Her nipples showed clearly through the fabric, and if the
ghost of a growl that rose from his throat was any indication, they
were perhaps more of a temptation now than they had been before.
“Help me into the dress,” she said, reaching out to touch one of
its lacy sleeves.

He helped her into the gown with
admirable restraint, pausing to caress the curves of her hips for
only a moment before beginning to do up her buttons. When he
finished he laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face
him. “You look beautiful.” He brushed her mouth with a light kiss
that smacked of restraint. “My bride.”

****

“
Close your eyes.” Damon
held Elsie’s head in his lap, smoothing a stray curl off her
temple.

She nodded, despite the fact that
she’d squeezed her eyes shut almost as soon as they’d climbed into
the carriage. Doing so had done little to ease the pain that
throbbed between them. The horses were moving at a brisk clip, and
every bump in the road sent a fresh wave of misery rolling beneath
her skull. “Is it always like this?” she asked. Back in the
bedroom, she’d felt energized and refreshed. Now she felt weak and
sickly, and her teeth had become blunt and ordinary once
again.

“
It won’t always be as
intense,” Damon replied, smoothing her hair. “It’s not our nature
to be out and about during the daytime, and the sunlight weakens
our bodies. The good news is that the more our bodies are exposed
to it, the more used to it they become – to an extent, anyway. Your
head will always ache when you’re exposed to the sun, but in time
it will become no more than a dull pain.”

Elsie pressed her fingertips against
her temples in a desperate attempt to quell the agony. She’d
thought it strange when Damon had guided her through his darkened
room with a lantern, neglecting to open the thick curtains, but
she’d understood his actions as soon as they’d left the dark
sanctuary. “You and your family, how can you all bear it? You often
go out during the daytime.”

“
We must, to conduct
business and to maintain the appearance of normality. But we are
used to the light, as you will soon be. Here, let me do that.” He
gently pried her hands from the sides of her head and began to
steadily massage her temples.

She moaned faintly into his lap. His
touch was so much more soothing than her own.

“
We’re almost there,” he
assured her. “Will you be able to walk into the church?”

“
Yes.” A fierce
determination welled in her heart, as sudden as it was strong. A
small army would be hard-pressed to stop her from making her way to
the altar, excruciating headache or no. Her eagerness wasn’t due to
fear for her safety, as Damon’s was, but excitement. Only a few
weeks ago, she never would have dared to so much as daydream about
becoming Damon’s bride. Even her wildest fantasies had only
featured a tumble with him in an empty bedroom, nothing more.
Butterflies burst into flight inside her stomach each time she
considered the secret torch Damon had carried for her all along – a
hidden passion to match her own. The fact that their unlikely love
was about to be set in stone made her feel as if she might burst at
the seams. For a moment, she even forgot her pain.

“
Here we are.” The carriage
rolled to a decidedly sudden halt, and the horses’ stamping hooves
rang against cobblestone as they snorted. Damon lifted Elsie’s
bonnet from the seat and placed it on her head, tying the ribbon
beneath her chin.

Damon took her by the hand and helped
her out of the carriage. Peering out from beneath the wide brim of
her bonnet, which Damon had adorned with rosettes cut from the
bushes in the garden, she focused on her pale skirts, which rustled
around her feet as she stepped to the ground. Her headache throbbed
against the inside of her skull, but couldn’t quell her giddy
excitement, which was mounting with every step. The butterflies in
her stomach seemed to have picked up on her mood and launched
themselves into acrobatics. Damon’s strong but gentle grip on her
arm helped to keep her grounded in reality – however dream-like it
seemed – as they climbed a set of stone steps and glided through a
gracefully arched doorway.

The interior of the modestly sized
church was blissfully dim in comparison to the sunny morning
outdoors. What light managed to permeate the building streamed
through stained glass windows, the colorful panes of which dulled
the glare and cast a pleasant patchwork of illumination across the
pews. Elsie’s headache ebbed a bit as she surveyed her
surroundings, which were empty save for a middle-aged priest who
seemed to be waiting for them. No doubt Damon’s money had ensured
that the man would be ready and the facility otherwise empty, just
as it had ensured that no one questioned Elsie’s age – not that she
had parents to approve her marriage, under twenty-one or
no.

The driver and the footman followed
behind the couple – the two required witnesses. Though they were
respectfully silent, Elsie wasn’t completely sure that Damon had in
fact told them the exact nature of their roles. But if they didn’t
know already, they would soon enough. With a peculiar feeling that
rested somewhere between solemnity and unhampered joy, Elsie
stopped at the priest’s left side, opposite of Damon, who stood at
the man’s right hand.

With a wordless nod, the clergyman
plunged into the ceremony, speaking in a practiced monotone that
hid any curiosity or sense of surprise he might have felt. “Dearly
beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the face
of this congregation, to join together this man and woman in holy
matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the
time of man’s innocence…”

Elsie let the steady hum of the
priest’s words wash over her as she looked away from him and to
Damon. His gaze locked with hers, dark and intense, the same look
that had originally caused her to sigh after passing him in
hallways and fantasize about his touch as she drifted to sleep,
alone in her narrow maid’s bed at night. She couldn’t help but
think back to the breathless turning-point that had set this
seemingly fated paring in motion… Images and sounds remembered from
her time behind the dressing screen tumbled through her mind as the
priest continued to recite the ceremonial words that would bind her
and Damon together forever. A glimmer passed through Damon’s black
gaze, and she wondered if he somehow knew her thoughts. Was he as
glad as she was that they’d been brought together by the set of
decidedly unconventional circumstances that’d spanned the past
seven years? As hopeless as life had seemed when she’d been a
newly-bereaved girl, she couldn’t bring herself to regret that
she’d ended up at the altar with Damon.

Elsie’s thoughts were interrupted by
the realization that the ceremony seemed to rapidly be approaching
the point where she and Damon would give their vows. “…I require
and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of
judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed…” Both
were silent when the time came to confess any reasons why they
should not marry. In what seemed less than the span of a heartbeat,
the priest was asking Damon whether he would have Elsie as his
wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy
state of matrimony.

“
I will.” Elsie stood still
and rapt as Damon promised, with just two words, to love, comfort
and honor her, regardless of sickness or health, and lastly to
remain faithful to her as long as they both lived. Considering
their immortality, the promise held a private weight that Elsie was
supremely aware of. She didn’t doubt Damon’s ability or intention
to keep it though, not for a second. After all, he’d already shown
her more love and comfort than she’d ever expected to know from any
man, and had become her personal savior when he’d healed her deadly
illness.

“
I will,” she echoed when
the priest asked her to make a similar promise.

Damon must have spoken to their two
unusual witnesses after all, for the footman stepped up rather
gallantly to assume the roll of giving Elsie away to Damon. Though
he was a servant, he was very handsome, and dressed unusually well.
Elsie fought a grin at the sight of his proud face, and the tiny
winged creatures in her middle burst into frenzied flight again.
The minister received her and Damon’s hands, and then proceeded to
give them over to each other.

One after the other, they swore to act
as a man and wife should until death did them part – which would
hopefully be never.

Finally loosing hands, Damon slid a
golden band onto Elsie’s fourth finger at the minister’s cue. The
metal felt surprisingly warm against her skin, perhaps because of
what it meant. Damon’s eyes gleamed as he spoke, warmer than the
precious metal. “With this this ring I thee wed, with my body I
thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: in the
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.
Amen.”

Chapter 10

“
Is this more blood?” Elsie
eyed the tea tray speculatively from where she sat on the edge of
Damon’s bed, safely returned to the darkness of the curtained
bedchamber. They hadn’t lingered at the church, but departed as
soon as they were legally married. She still wore the wedding
gown.

“
No,” Damon replied,
pouring from the fine china pot. “It’s real tea this time.” Wisps
of steam rose from the delicate cup, evidencing his claim. “You’ve
tried this before. Lucy discovered it – it helps with the
headaches.”

She took the cup and sipped the herbal
mixture as Damon poured one for himself. “You’ll feel better soon,
between the darkness and the tea.”

And what then? A shiver ran down her
spine, causing her nipples to harden against the thin fabric of her
dress and shift. It wasn’t night yet, but they’d just been married,
and they were alone in the bedroom. Remembering the look in his
eyes when he’d helped her to dress for the ceremony, she wanted to
believe that they’d make love again when the tea was gone. But
would they? She realized for the first time that she had no idea
what being Mrs. Damon Remington entailed. Damon hadn’t said what
would come after the ceremony. Now that she was safe – now that she
was his – uncertainty that had been temporarily suspended by
urgency came crashing back down around her again.

“
Would you like more?”
Damon stood poised over the tray, not joining her on the edge of
the bed as he drank.

Elsie let him take her cup. Warmth
flared throughout her being when his fingertips brushed hers,
negotiating the perfectly curved bone china.

She probably didn’t need the second
cup of tea. Already, her headache had subsided to a dull pain she
hardly noticed, occupied by thought as she was. She drank it
anyway, mulling over who she’d become in the eyes of God and the
Church of England, and what that meant. “No thank you,” she said
when Damon offered to fill her cup again. “I feel much
better.”

He carefully lowered the painted pot
back onto the silver tray. “Let me help you with your buttons
then.”

She turned, putting her back to him as
he sank onto the edge of the bed. Her stomach fluttered as his
fingers settled on a button, brushing her spine as it came undone.
Did he mean to make love to her, or only to take back the gown he’d
borrowed from his sister, assumedly without her knowledge? Her
nipples were hopelessly stiff against the delicate fabric, and her
core ached for him when she thought of their joining three days
before. Remembering his passion then, she felt stupid for doubting
his intentions now. However foreign her new role as his wife
seemed, there was at least one duty that she understood and looked
forward to fulfilling. With the buttons halfway undone, Damon
slipped a hand beneath the silk and reached around her side to cup
one breast. She moaned in a combination of desire and relief – it
felt good to be sure of what he expected of her, at least for the
next hour or so.