My Lord Eternity (16 page)
Authors: Alexandra Ivy
“I am here,” he whispered softly as the door to the house was opened, and a starched butler regarded her with barely concealed amazement.
Drawing in a deep breath, she forced herself to climb the stairs to enter the marble foyer.
She had lived among the most desperate thieves and murderers in all of London. She had walked paths at night that the Watch would not dare tread. She had been stalked by a crazed vampire and managed to kill him.
Surely to goodness she could face her parents.
Unconsciously squaring her shoulders, she turned to face the servant she had known since she was a child.
“Good afternoon, Scowly. I trust you are well?”
Although harshly trained by Mrs. Kingly, the butler allowed a faint smile to curve his lips. He had always been fond of Jocelyn when she was young and had often slipped her treats that were forbidden by her parents.
“Quite well. It is good to see you again, Miss Kingly.”
“Thank you.” She glanced toward the ponderous staircase that boasted a finely carved balustrade. “Are my parents at home?”
The silver-haired butler gave a slight nod. “Yes, they are in the front salon.”
The rather cowardly hope that her parents were dashing about London with their usual need to see and be seen was abruptly crushed. Thankfully, however, her smile never faltered as she felt Lucien place his hand on the small of her back.
She would not be facing her parents alone.
This wonderful, glorious man was at her side.
For an eternity.
“I will show myself in, Scowly,” she managed to say in firm tones.
“I . . .” A gleam of approval entered the old servant's gaze. “Very good.”
With her head held as high as Lucien had commanded, Jocelyn swept her way up the stairs, rather absurdly relieved that she had allowed her fiancé to convince her to purchase a new gown in a lovely shade of pale blue. It would be difficult enough to confront her parents without concerning herself that she appeared a ragamuffin.
Reaching the open landing that offered a stunning view of the foyer below and the landing above, Jocelyn turned to enter the front salon.
As was her mother's custom, the long, narrow chamber was entirely decorated in ivory. Along the walls were numerous niches that supported large Greek statues that regarded visitors with frozen disapproval. And from above, a painting of Zeus floated arrogantly in clouds. Even the furnishings were in an ivory satin with a collection of rare Greek urns upon the various tables.
It was a lovely, elegant room but cold and utterly impersonal.
Much like her own parents, she acknowledged wryly.
Stepping forward, she nearly faltered as the tall handsome gentleman with silver hair and piercing, blue eyes rose to his feet. At his side a dark-haired woman still beautiful in an aloof fashion also rose.
There was no missing their matching expressions of shocked disdain as they realized that their daughter had dared to defy their stern command never to return.
Then once again Lucien reached out to touch her softly, filling her with the warmth of his love.
“Good afternoon, Father. Mother.”
There was a sharp silence before Mr. Kingly stepped forward. “Jocelyn,” he rasped. “What are you doing here?”
She smiled wryly. It was obvious that the years had not softened her father's icy anger.
“Do not fear, this is only a passing visit. I wished you to know that I am soon to wed Mr. Valin.”
“Wed?” her mother demanded in shrill shock. Together the older couple turned their attention to the tall, handsome gentleman standing at Jocelyn's side. In silence they considered the expensive cut of his bottle-green coat and luster of his Hessians. There could be no doubt that he was a gentleman of both means and consequence. It was in the set of his broad shoulders and upon the proud countenance. Then her father's eyes abruptly widened in amazement. “Mr. Valin? But . . . I know you. You are a cousin to Mr. Ravel.”
Lucien offered a faint bow of his golden head. “Yes.”
“Well. Well, I say. What a remarkable thing.” Pondering the astonishing fact that a gentleman of Mr. Valin's standing would consider marrying the tainted daughter whom he had evicted from his home, Mr. Kingly glanced toward his wife. “Did you hear, Mrs. Kingly? Our daughter is to wed Mr. Valin.”
The cold expression faded as Mrs. Kingly swiftly considered the meaning of such a marriage. Clearly deciding that her lofty place in society could only be enhanced by such a fortunate connection, she determinedly forced a smile to her lips as she turned toward Jocelyn.
“Why, you sly minx, what an extraordinary thing,” she twittered in playful tones. “However did you manage to capture such an eligible bachelor?”
Jocelyn smiled wryly, reaching out to allow Lucien to engulf her cold fingers in his own.
“Luck, I suppose.”
“No,” Lucien denied, lifting her hand to boldly brush her fingers with his lips. “The luck was all mine. Your daughter is quite simply the most amazing woman it has ever been my privilege to know.”
Mrs. Kingly widened her eyes at the open display of affection. An affection that was quite foreign to her cold heart.
“Ah . . . yes,” she muttered.
“Never have I encountered a woman with a kinder heart and a more generous nature.”
The older woman smiled weakly. She might not comprehend why a gentleman of society would be concerned with a kind heart and generous nature, but she was cunning enough to realize she desired to win his favor.
To have her daughter wed to such a prominent gentleman would not only cleanse the stain upon Jocelyn's reputation, it would also enhance her own power.
“Indeed.”
Lucien smiled into Jocelyn's eyes. “It shall be the happiest moment in my life when I can call her wife.”
“A wedding.” With an expression of anticipation Mrs. Kingly turned toward her silent husband. “We must begin making plans at once. The ceremony will be at St. George's, of course. Mr. Kingly, you must speak with the prince. His presence will be vital to ensure that the wedding will be considered a success.”
Jocelyn abruptly stepped forward. She was not about to allow her parents to turn her wedding into a carnival.
“No, Mother.”
Mrs. Kingly turned to regard her with an expression of arrogant disapproval. “No?”
The familiar fear of not measuring up to this woman's impossible standards threatened to rise, only to be fiercely dismissed.
Jocelyn tilted her chin. No. She was a child no longer. If her parents could not accept the woman she had become, then so be it. She would not allow them to force her into a life she did not desire.
“My marriage will not be a social event. I desire a simple private ceremony.”
“Do not be ridiculous, Jocelyn,” her mother snapped in annoyance. “After your . . . unfortunate incident, it is vastly important to gain the support of the prince. If he attends the wedding, then no one else will dare stay away.”
“No.” Jocelyn faced her mother bravely. “I am marrying Lucien because I love him, not to secure my place in society.”
The older woman blinked, as if startled to discover that her daughter would dare defy her. An icy warning chilled her gaze.
“As stubborn as ever, I see. You are determined to make a mockery of your father and me.”
Jocelyn smiled sadly. Her parents would never change. They would always remain utterly shallow and incapable of sharing the love she had discovered with Lucien.
The lingering sense of betrayal she had harbored for years slowly faded, to be replaced by an unexpected pity.
How terribly lonely they must be in this cold mausoleum with nothing to warm their hearts but hollow pride, she acknowledged.
They would never know the joy or the passion she shared with Lucien. They would grow old and die all alone.
“Actually this has nothing to do with you, Mother,” she said in soft but firm tones.
“You could at least consider our feelings.” Mrs. Kingly gave a loud sniff. “It has been very difficult for us.”
Without warning Lucien moved to stand beside Jocelyn, his face set in grim lines.
“This is Jocelyn's decision. You will respect her wishes.”
There was a shocked pause before Mrs. Kingly opened her mouth to argue. She would not easily give up her dream of a lavish wedding complete with the prince at her side. But placing a warning hand upon his wife's arm, Mr. Kingly gave a reluctant nod of his head. He easily sensed the danger that cloaked the tall, golden-haired gentleman. A danger that he was unwilling to confront.
“Very well.”
“We will advise you when the plans have been completed,” Lucien continued, placing his hand upon Jocelyn's back. “Now we must be on our way.”
Mrs. Kingly pressed a hand to her heart. “But surely you are not leaving so soon? We are, after all, destined to become family. We should become better acquainted before the wedding. If you will have a seat, I will call for tea.”
Jocelyn hid a wry smile. No doubt her mother must be expecting callers. She would certainly want to flaunt the elusive Mr. Valin before her cronies.
“We cannot,” she said in tones that defied argument. “There are a great number of details I must attend to. We will send a message when we have a date settled for the ceremony.”
Without allowing her parents an opportunity to respond, Jocelyn turned and headed for the door. An unconscious smile curved her lips.
For the first time in years her heart felt as light as a feather.
Lucien had been right.
She had needed to confront the shadows of her past and banish them. She had needed to discover that she could hold her head up proudly and with no apology.
And that was precisely what she had done.
Now she could face the future.
Her smile widened as she glanced at the handsome bronze face of her beloved vampire.
Chapter 15
The moonlight bathed the small bedchamber in a pool of soft silver. Lying entwined with his wife on the bed, Lucien heaved a deep sigh of contentment.
The earlier wedding had been just as Jocelyn had demanded. The simple ceremony had included only a vicar, and her parents as witnesses. But there had been nothing simple in the shimmering love that filled the air as the two were joined together. Or the soft words that came from their very hearts.
Of course, the day had not been without its share of surprises, he ruefully acknowledged.
They had returned to Jocelyn's small home to discover that the residents of St. Giles had been determined to have a share of the celebration. They had left food and drink and even fresh flowers as a token of their appreciation. Mr. Ryan had also called to leave a fine bottle of brandy that Lucien was swift to claim as his own.
The display of affection meant far more to Jocelyn than her parents' cold presence at her wedding, and his heart nearly burst at the tears of happiness that filled his wife's eyes.
Wife . . .
He tightened his grasp around the slumbering woman as he savored the memories of making her his own.
She was just as delightfully passionate as he had dreamed she would be.
Perhaps even more so.
There had been no fear, no hesitancy as she followed his lead. Only an anxious desire to at last satisfy the need that had built to a near-fever pitch.
A fever that still coursed through his blood, he acknowledged ruefully. He suspected he would never tire of this woman who had bewitched his mind and stolen his heart.
As if sensing the sudden hardening of his renegade body, Jocelyn stirred in his arms. The heavy lashes lifted as she regarded him with a sleepy smile.
“Lucien.”
“Shhh, my beloved,” he murmured, gently stroking her hair from the pale countenance. “It is very late. You should be asleep.”
“This is very nice,” she said shyly. “I think I shall enjoy sharing a bed with my husband.”
Lucien swallowed a groan. Great Nefri. Did she not realize what she was doing to his poor, tortured body?
“Yes, my sweet. Now go back to sleep.”
Pulling back, she regarded him with a puzzled expression. “What is it, Lucien? Is something the matter?”
He heaved another sigh. She would not be satisfied until he revealed the truth.
“Nothing is the matter. It is merely difficult for me to hold you so closely and not wish to make love to you again.”
A delightful color stained her cheeks. “Oh.” There was a long pause before she slowly lifted herself onto her elbow. “Lucien?”
“Yes?”
“I am prepared.”
“No.” He reached out to cup her cheek. “We have an eternity to be together, my sweet. There is no need to rush on this night.”
She gave a shake of her head, an oddly resolute expression upon her countenance.
“I mean that I am prepared to bond with you. As a vampire.”
Lucien caught his breath. “Jocelyn.”
“Please do not argue with me, Lucien.” An odd smile curved her lips. “You said that we would know when the time was right. And I do know. I cannot say how, but something within me is telling me that this is the moment.”
As if on cue, the Medallion about her neck suddenly began to glow in the silver shadows.
Lucien regarded the powerful amulet before giving a slow nod of his head. He, too, felt the anticipation that tingled in the night.
It was the moment.
The perfect moment to entwine his soul with his true mate's.
Allowing his fangs to lengthen, he held the shimmering blue gaze as he lowered his head toward her neck. He took but a taste of her blood, his entire body trembling as the sense of her filled his mind and his heart.
“My love,” he whispered softly, raising his arm to draw blood from his wrist and placed it against her waiting lips.
Sighing, Jocelyn readily completed the ritual, allowing them to become one.
“My eternal love,” she pledged as the Medallion flared to golden life.
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