Kiss of the Rose (13 page)

“My sense of smell is nothing like Rosalind’s and I’m not infatuated with her.”

“She seems to think you are.”

Christopher sighed. “There is more to it than that.”

“You’re in
love
with her?” Elias smiled.“How charming.”

Christopher didn’t smile in return. “I’m not stupid, Elias. I’ve suspected all along there was a reason I of all people was chosen for this task. No one would care if I died to stop this prophecy coming true.” He watched Elias’s face carefully, but there was no sign of a reaction. “I believe I was sent here just as deliberately as Rosalind Llewellyn was.”

“That’s a very interesting thought, Sir Christopher.”

“You heard the prophecy.”

Elias blinked very slowly. “It refers to a group of three.”

Christopher tried to force the issue. “And you have your own ideas as to why I might be included in this unlikely group. It might also explain why I have this unholy attraction to Rosalind Llewellyn. What say you?”

“I’m saying naught, Sir Christopher.” Elias’s smile wasn’t meant to reassure.“I’ll leave such wild speculation up to you.” He rose and bowed. “Good night.”

Christopher didn’t try to stop the Vampire leaving. There was no point. He’d said his piece and nothing had changed. He hadn’t really expected it to. Unease settled in his gut. Vampires were notoriously closemouthed, but it was quite possible that Elias knew about Christopher’s tangled, bloody history. Christopher sighed and set about thinking of a place to bury his ruined doublet. He hoped nothing turned up in his bedchamber tonight. He desperately needed his sleep— and a clear head for the morning.

Chapter 9

R
osalind slowed her horse. “Shall we dismount and walk a little?” she asked Rhys.

It was a clear morning with the kind of sharp brightness that promised much, and at this time of year, often delivered nothing. Rosalind had hardly slept at all, her thoughts tangled with Rhys, Christopher, and the disturbing letter from her grandfather. She’d dressed and come down to the stables at dawn, where Rhys was waiting as if he’d been expecting her.

He nodded and dismounted, caught her reins, and expertly hobbled the horses before reaching up to lift her down. He made no effort to kiss her this morning, and his expression was watchful rather than warm and relaxed. Had her grandfather given him the same instructions as he’d given her?

“I read Grandfather’s letter.”

He glanced down at her. “And?”

She took a deep breath. “My grandfather has discovered that Sir Christopher is at court, and he ordered me to become acquainted with him.”

“
Acquainted with him
? That’s not what he wrote me.”

Her cheeks heated. She found herself staring at his serviceable brown woolen doublet rather than up at his face. “I did not want to upset you.”

His laugh was harsh. “What exactly did he say?”

She twisted her riding gloves into a knot. It was difficult to talk of such delicate matters with a man who might one day become her husband. “He ordered me to become as intimate with Sir Christopher as I could.”

Silence fell between them. All she could hear was the jingling of the horses’ bridles and the uneven sound of her own breathing. She slowly looked up and found Rhys’s gaze already waiting for her.

“I know.And he told me to aid you in every way possible.” His mouth twisted. “Your grandfather thinks I’m so loyal to him that I’d willingly tie you up and dump you in that whoreson’s bed.”

Rosalind laid her hand on his sleeve. “He knows how you feel about me. He would never expect that.” It seemed her grandfather would demand it of her, though, and the thought made her sick to her stomach.

Rhys didn’t answer her, but she felt the tension vibrating through his muscular frame.

“I won’t do it, Rosalind,” he finally said. “I won’t make it easy for Sir Christopher and I can’t do that to you. I am sorry to say it but your grandfather has lost my respect.”

“I don’t expect you to go against your principles.” Rosalind reached out to stroke his unshaven jaw. “In truth, I’d be hurt if you did.”

He sighed and pushed her hand away from his face. “But this has to stop. I can’t let you touch me.”

“Can we not even be friends anymore? I’m only trying to offer you comfort.”

“And I’m already hard.” He swallowed. “The best I can offer you is my promise not to interfere with your… duty.”

“I have no choice,” Rosalind whispered. “My grandfather was most explicit.”

His smile wasn’t kind.“I’m sure you’ll reconcile yourself to your fate, my lady.”

“That’s not fair. I told you I didn’t want to have feelings for Sir Christopher. That it’s all wrong!”

He started back toward the horses, jerking his gloves on as he walked. “Has it occurred to you that your grandfather anticipated this when he sent you here?”

The shock of such wounding words coming from her staunchest ally resonated through her, but she drew herself up to her full height and said calmly, “I assumed I was sent because I am marked with the sign of Awen and that I’ve trained to fight Vampires since birth.”

He swung back toward her. “Aye, but there are other Vampire hunters, more experienced ones.
And against you
the Ellis family sends Sir Christopher, a relatively untried Druid hunter— a handsome young man who would appreciate your charms.”

Rosalind lifted her chin. “Are you suggesting that there is a conspiracy to create an attachment between myself and Sir Christopher? To what end?”

“I don’t know. Possibly to distract you from your investigation of the murders while the Vampires achieve their nefarious aims.”

“If that were so, why would my grandfather agree?”

“Mayhap this has something to do with that cursed prophecy.”

“Why ever would you think that?” Rosalind fought to keep the alarm from her face. It was bad enough that Sir Christopher thought she was involved in the prophecy. Why did Rhys have to mention it as well?

He studied her closely. “It seems rather… fitting, does it not?”

Rosalind met his gaze. “Nothing is certain. The rogue Vampire has likely manipulated the situation for her own ends.” She grabbed her horse’s reins. “I think we should return to the palace.”

“Of course, my lady.” Rhys boosted her into the saddle and mounted his own horse.

Rosalind bit her lip and sought his gaze. “You won’t leave me, will you?”

“For something your grandfather has done? Nay, I won’t desert you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, but he’d already turned away, his features set in an unusually solemn cast, his horse picking up speed. Rosalind followed him as quickly as she could, her thoughts even more confused than they had been on the previous night. Her own grandfather, that stalwart hater of all things Vampire, had suggested— nay,
commanded
— that she seduce Sir Christopher Ellis.

She stared blindly at the fast-approaching walls of the palace. Would her father have ordered her to do the same thing? Would he have betrayed her like that? And why was it even necessary for her to seduce Christopher? Surely gaining his confidence, even making him fall in love with her, would be enough to compromise his position and distract him. Was it something to do with the prophecy? Did her grandfather truly expect her to “become one” with her enemy?

All her old uncertainties about her acceptance as a Vampire slayer had returned. Had her grandfather allowed her to train only for this aim, that she act as bait to lure Christopher to his doom? The implications were horrifying. She realized she didn’t want Christopher dead. Would, in truth, do anything to prevent it.

Rhys pulled up alongside her. “I assume you’ll want to speak to Sir Christopher. Do you want me to find him?”

Rosalind glanced uncertainly at the palace. “I’m not sure where he’ll be.”

“I’ll bring him to the chapel. You can help take care of the horses while I’m gone and then meet us there.”

Obediently, she followed Rhys to the stables, waited while he removed their cumbersome saddles and tack and drove the horses back into their stalls. She took over the task of brushing them and making sure they had clean water and food. At least the mundane everyday job soothed her, made it easier for her to calm down and plan how she would tell Christopher that everyone was far too willing for them to work together.

When she’d finished, Rosalind picked up the dusty skirts of her green riding habit and headed slowly up to the chapel. Why was it so much easier to face Sir Christopher at night when she was hunting Vampires than in the light of day? He and Rhys were already waiting outside for her. Sir Christopher swept her a low bow.

“Good morning, Lady Rosalind.”

“Good morning, Sir Christopher.” She looked at Rhys, whose expression was anything but helpful. “Is this a safe place for us to talk?”

Rhys shrugged. “If we wish to avoid any Vampires, the chapel is ideal. Mass isn’t due to start for a while.”

In the small entranceway to the church, Rosalind turned to the men. Sir Christopher’s gaze lingered on her face, and he frowned. “You look tired, my lady.”

“I’m tired because I can hardly sleep with worrying about all this. Surely you must feel the same?”

“Indeed. It preys heavily on my mind.” He shifted his stance until he leaned against the wall, his dark blue silk doublet and black jerkin in stark contrast to the limewashed stone.

Rosalind took a steadying breath. “Do you really believe we are somehow involved in the prophecy?”

“It is hard to escape the notion that we are.” His gaze moved between Rosalind and Rhys. “All of us, and that includes you, Rhys.”

Rhys nodded. “I wondered about that too. I expect that’s one of the reasons why the lady’s grandfather sent me back to court with her.” He glowered at Christopher. “I’m not sure what any of this has to do with you, though, Ellis.”

Rosalind tensed, but Christopher didn’t react to Rhys’s challenge. “In all honesty, I was surprised to be sent in my uncle’s stead.”

Rhys stirred beside her. “Aye, for you are not a wellknown Druid killer, are you?”

“Not in England. I have lived most of my life in Aragon and Brittany.”

“Your family isn’t English?” Rosalind asked.

He frowned as if the question was an insult. “My father was English, my mother, Spanish.”

“Which is why you are such a favorite of the queen?”

“She enjoys speaking the language of her childhood.”

Rosalind glanced up at Rhys, but he was steadfastly ignoring her. She remembered his vow not to interfere with her relationship with Christopher, and silently groaned. Despite the fact that she was standing between them and that Rhys had sworn not to overreact, she could feel the tension in both of them, the sensation that she was like a meaty bone cast between two snarling dogs. She attempted to redirect the conversation back to the prophecy and away from the competitive instincts of the two men.

“Sir Christopher, do you think I am central to the prophecy?”

Christopher studied her for a moment and then nodded. His gaze returned to Rhys. “Isn’t it strange that so many races and religions hold by the power of three? The three rays of the Awen, the Holy Trinity of the Christians, and the Three Lords of the Vampire world…”

“What are you trying to say, Sir Christopher?” Rosalind asked.

He sighed. “I’m simply trying to understand. Why would all your prophets agree on the same thing happening at the same time? And why did they choose us to fight this particular Vampire?”

“Well, I am not convinced there is a conspiracy behind our being here. Prophecies are notoriously vague. I’d warrant the scholars themselves don’t know exactly what will happen,” Rosalind answered.

“That’s one possibility.” Sir Christopher grimaced.“It makes my skin crawl to think I’ve been prepared and trained for this moment from birth, shaped by forces beyond me and used as an unwilling pawn.”

Rosalind stared at him as his words crystallized her own feelings. Was that why she’d been taught to fight as well? Simply to play out her part in this mystery, rather than because she deserved it?

“It doesn’t matter how we got here. We still have to find and kill that Vampire,” Rosalind said.

“That’s true, and I’m sure you and your manservant will do your best to aid me on my quest.”

“
Our
quest,” she reminded him sharply, and he smiled at her for the first time. “How do you suggest we proceed?”

“Although we have assumed the target is the king, I believe the queen is at risk.” He stroked his chin in thought. “Because she is out of favor with the king, she is less than well protected and an easier target.”

“And, as the Vampire we seek appears to be a woman, it is more likely that she resides in the queen’s court.”

“Then we should concentrate our efforts there. We both have access to the queen’s inner circle. I suggest we spend our daylight hours trying to puzzle out which of her court is the Vampire, and our nights, when the king is more vulnerable and the Vampire is more powerful, making sure he is equally well protected.”

“And what exactly do you expect me to do while you two gallivant about the court?” Rhys asked, his attention focused on Sir Christopher.

Rosalind tensed as Christopher turned toward Rhys and slowly studied him. “Do whatever servants do. You are able to pass unnoticed. I suggest you use that ability to aid us as best you can.”

Rhys made a sudden movement forward until he was toe-to-toe with Christopher. “I’m no more a servant than you are,
sir
. I’m only tolerating your presence because of my lady.”

“I understand, and do not mistake me. I have great respect for your fighting skills. My uncle speaks very highly of you indeed.”

“He should, because prophecy or no prophecy, if you harm my lady, I will separate you from your head.”

“You can certainly try.”

Luckily Rosalind was able to slip between the two much taller men again and shove them apart. She hated having to look up at them both.“After Mass, I’ll take Sir Christopher to visit the king, and secure him greater access to the king’s personal chambers.”