Midnight Embrace (16 page)

"I'll come down."

Sally bobbed a curtsey, laid out a dress and clean underwear, and left the room, humming softly.

Analisa took off her robe and nightgown and quickly washed her hands, arms, and face. She dressed quickly, brushed her hair, and then, humming the same tune as her maid, she went downstairs.

The breakfast room was awash in sunlight when she stepped inside. A tray was placed before her as soon as she sat down. Breakfast was delicious, as usual, but, staring out the window, her thoughts on the coming night, she was hardly aware of what she ate.

Mrs. Thornfield entered the room as she was finishing her morning meal and laid out a place setting at the opposite end of the table.

"What's that for?" Analisa asked curiously.

"Lord Alesandro wishes you to know how to behave at a proper dinner."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Come," Mrs. Thornfield said, her hand tapping the back of a chair, "sit here."

When Analisa was seated, the housekeeper pointed out what each knife, spoon, and fork was used for.

Analisa looked up at the woman, confused. Meals at Blackbriar and here at the Manor were always informal. After all, there was little need for proper protocol when Analisa ate her meals alone, or occasionally with Alesandro for company.

"Lord Alesandro feels you need to know how to conduct yourself in society. At a large gathering, you can expect to be served as many as ten courses—"

"Ten?" Analisa squeaked.

"Yes. You might expect to have soup, a turbot of lobster and Dutch sauce, perhaps some red mullet or oysters. A sweetbread. Lamb cutlets served with asparagus or peas, venison or mutton or stewed beef, perhaps a duckling. There might also be sardines and plover's eggs in aspic. You can expect chocolate for dessert, or perhaps a cherry ice, as well as whatever fruit is in season. And there will be wine, of course. Sherry with soup and fish, port with venison and cheese, claret with roast meat, and Madeira with sweets."

"I don't understand," Analisa said. "Alesandro and I have never been invited out, nor is it likely to happen."

"I'm only doing what I was told, miss," the housekeeper said, and for the next two hours, she schooled Analisa in proper etiquette.

A lady who was unmarried and under the age of thirty was never to be in the company of a man without a chaperone except for a walk in the park in early morning, or when walking to church. A lady did not wear pearls or diamonds in the morning. A lady never danced more than three dances with the same gentleman. A lady never called on a gentleman except on a matter of business. A lady never "cut" someone after meeting them socially. A lady should always rise to offer her hand. A lady must never lounge or sit timorously on the edge of her chair. Her feet should scarcely be seen and never crossed. A lady always left something on her plate.

Analisa's head was fairly spinning when the lesson came to an end, though she was no less confused than she had been at the beginning. What need did she have to know such things? Alesandro did not go visiting, nor did he have company at his home, and there was little chance that she would be invited anywhere without him.

"Anyone would think he was trying to make a lady out of me," she muttered.

Feeling suddenly tired, she went upstairs to take a nap. Sleep came quickly. Her dreams were erratic. One minute she was sitting at an enormous table surrounded by dozens and dozens of dishes while faceless people looked on, waiting for her to choose the right fork, and the next minute Alesandro was there, his eyes blazing red with the lust for blood. "This is the correct fork," he said, and with an insane laugh, he plunged it into her throat.

She woke with a start, her heart pounding wildly. Scrambling out of bed, she ran out of the room and out of the house.

It was near dusk, and cool. The setting sun set the sky ablaze with vibrant shades of crimson and scarlet. The colors of blood. Shivering, she scrubbed her hands over her arms, and then, needing a distraction, she walked toward the barn.

Robert was outside, currying a pretty gray horse. Dewhurst sat on a bench nearby, mending a harness.

"Evening, miss," the caretaker said, tipping his hat.

"Hello, Robert."

" 'Tis a lovely night for a ride, miss." He patted the horse on the shoulder. "I could saddle Old Bess for you, if you like."

"Oh, no," Analisa replied, shaking her head. "I don't know how to ride." At home, they had been far too poor to own a horse and had made do with a donkey, which was far cheaper to buy. She had, on occasion, ridden the animal bareback, but she had been a child then. She had no idea how to ride sidesaddle.

"As you will, miss."

"Is it all right if I look around?"

"You've no business asking my permission," Robert said, obviously taken aback.

Analisa flushed. She kept forgetting she was supposed to be the mistress of the manor.

Head high, she lifted her skirts and walked into the barn. She stopped in the doorway, letting her eyes grow accustomed to the dim interior, and then wandered down the center aisle. There were large box stalls on either side. The carriage horses whickered softly as she drew near. She stopped in front of the first horse and ran her hand over its neck. She paused a moment in front of the adjoining stall, giving equal attention to the second horse, and then moved on down the row to the end where a big black horse eyed her suspiciously. It was a beautiful animal, with fox-like ears and a long, silky mane. The stallion blew through its nostrils and shook its head, its ears going flat at her approach.

It could only belong to Alesandro, she thought, for certainly only a man unafraid of death would have the nerve to ride such a fearsome beast.

She kept her distance, put off by the wild look in its eyes, gave a start when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, smiling with surprise. "Alesandro!"

He wore black breeches and knee-high black boots of soft leather. His shirt, of fine white lawn, was open at the throat, the perfect foil for his black hair. As always, just looking at him made her breath catch in her throat.

"What do you think of him?"

"He's yours, isn't he?"

He made a soft sound of assent.

"He's beautiful, but how did you ever get the nerve to ride him?"

"It wasn't easy." Alesandro moved past her to stroke the stallion's neck. "I've had him since he was a colt. Horses have an instinctive fear of my kind. It took a long time to win his trust. But we're friends now, aren't we, Deuce?"

The stallion made a soft snuffling sound, pushing his nose against Alesandro's chest. With a faint smile, Alesandro drew a cube of sugar from his pocket and offered it to the stallion.

Analisa smiled as the stallion plucked the cube from Alesandro's hand, then tossed its head up and down in what could only be a gesture of equine approval.

"Why do you keep him here instead of at Blackbriar?"

"Robert has been breeding him to some of the local mares." Alesandro scratched the stud's ears, then turned to face Analisa. "Come and meet him."

She shook her head vigorously and took a step back.

"Come, "Lisa," Alesandro insisted. "He will not hurt you."

"Are you sure?" Keeping one wary eye on the horse, who seemed to be keeping one wary eye on her, she walked toward Alesandro. She gasped as the stallion lowered its head to sniff her hand.

"Shall we go for a ride?" Alesandro asked.

"I don't know how."

"You can ride double with me."

She hesitated a moment, torn between her fear of the horse and her desire to please Alesandro.

In the end, Alesandro won. Ten minutes later, she was sitting on the back of a mountain of black horseflesh with Alesandro's arm tight around her waist. She detected no movement, heard no command, but the stallion moved forward, his long strides carrying them quickly out of the barn and into the yard.

Robert and Dewhurst bowed as they rode by.

Once clear of the yard, Alesandro put the horse into a slow canter.

Analisa went rigid, her arms folded over Alesandro's, her hands clutching at his biceps.

"Relax, 'Lisa."

She nodded. Leaning back against him, she took a deep breath, telling herself there was nothing to fear, not with Alesandro's arm fast around her waist. A short time later, the stallion's pace increased.

The stallion had a smooth, even gait and they fairly flew across the ground. It was exhilarating, unlike anything she had ever experienced before—the hard press of Alesandro's arm around her waist, the motion of the horse, the cool breeze in her face. Laughter bubbled up inside her. How could she have ever been afraid? She cried out with delight as the stallion jumped a trio of small hedges.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Can we go faster?"

Alesandro chuckled. A moment later, the stallion stretched out in a full gallop.

They rode for miles through the lowering darkness, until the stallion's inky black coat was dotted with foamy lather. Gradually, Alesandro slowed the horse to a trot, then a walk. A short time later, he reined the stallion to a halt in a small clearing surrounded by towering trees. The leaves whispered together in the evening breeze.

Dismounting, he lifted her from the horse's back.

Analisa extended her arms and twirled around. "Oh, but that was wonderful! Thank you, Alesan-dro." She smiled up at him. "You are so good to me."

He returned her smile. She was so like a child, so eager to learn, to experience life.

"I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for you," she said, suddenly serious. "I've learned so much since you took me in. How to read and write. How to behave like a lady. How will I ever repay you?"

Alesandro shook his head. "I will hear no talk of repayment. You have given me far more than I could ever hope to give you. Not just your blood, Analisa, though that is sweet indeed," he said, reading the question in her eyes. "You have given me hope for the future, a new zest for living." He caressed her cheek, his touch heartbreakingly gentle. "Something to look forward to when I awake."

His words nestled deep in her soul. Not knowing what to say, she spread her hands against his chest, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed him. She'd meant it to be just a light touch, a press of her lips to his, but his arms closed around her and he was kissing her back, a hot, desperate kiss that sent her senses reeling and curled her toes.

He drew his mouth from hers, his gaze burning into her own like a bright blue flame. She gasped his name, and then he was kissing her again, his arms so tight around her she could scarcely breathe. His breathing sounded ragged and uneven, and when he took his mouth from hers, she saw the glint of his fangs.

A long shudder wracked his body. Muttering an oath, he put her away from him and turned his back, but not before she saw the haunted expression on his face.

"Alesandro." She placed her hand on his back, felt him flinch at her touch. "Alesandro, don't turn away."

"I do not want you to see me like this." He laughed, a hollow sound tinged with pain. "I am not at my best."

"I've seen you before. I'm not afraid."

He whirled around, his hair whipping about his face, his eyes blazing and tinged with red. "And do you like what you see?" He could feel the hunger stirring within him, rising up to engulf him, feel it clawing at his vitals, demanding to be fed.

He bared his fangs. "Not afraid?" he said. "Well, you should be."

She stepped backward, the movement instinctive, hardly aware she had done so. "Alesandro, please, don't do this. I love you."

"No!"

She stared up at him, not knowing what to do, or what to say. She hated it when he was like this, steeped in anger and filled with despair. She placed her hand on his arm; the muscle felt like steel beneath her fingertips.

He wrenched his arm away. Grabbing her around the waist, he lifted her onto the stallion's back and thrust the reins into her hand.

"Go home!" he said. "Now!"

Before she could argue, before she could protest that she was more afraid of riding the horse alone than she was of staying with him, Alesandro slapped the stallion on the rump and the horse turned and headed back the way they had come.

She clung to the reins with one hand and the stallion's thick mane with the other. Fear rose up within her as she fled through the night. Fear that she would tumble off the horse and break her neck. Fear that Alesandro's dark side would overcome his affection for her and she would fall prey to the horrible hunger that tormented him.

She glanced over her shoulder. Was he coming after her even now?

Alesandro stared after her, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. He had been so proud of himself, of his ability to control his hunger. What was happening to his self-control? He laughed softly. Analisa had happened. In the beginning, a few drops of her life's blood had had the power to satisfy his hellish hunger, but lately… he raked a hand through his hair. For some reason he did not understand, it was getting harder and harder to control his need.

The need that burned through him even now.