The Vampire Dimitri (10 page)

“Corvindale! It's imperative that I speak with you. This is
a matter that cannot wait, and if you do not come out then I will come in.”

There. That ought to bring him forth. If Maia knew one thing about men, she knew that they didn't like to have their bedchambers invaded by the fairer sex.

Except for their wives and mistresses, she supposed. And for some reason, her face flushed hot. What if he had a woman in there with him? A mental image of tangled sheets and a bare-chested man next to an equally bare woman made her cheeks even hotter.

Did unmarried earls actually bring those sorts of women into their homes? Or did they visit them at outside establishments? Or did he have a regular mistress?

How could a woman even stand to spend any length of time with his rude, controlling self? She supposed that while they were engaging in such activities, perhaps he wasn't talking quite so much. Her cheeks burned hotter.

“I am abed, Miss Woodmore, and have no intention of leaving it. If you insist upon speaking with me at this time, then don't let something as ridiculous as propriety keep you out.”

Well, that made it sound as if he was alone. She drew in a deep breath and inched the door open farther, curling her fingers around the edge as much to keep it in position as to force herself to move forward. “My lord, I must speak with you regarding Angelica.”

“I'm afraid you'll have to come in. I can't hear what you are saying.”

Her fingers tightened on the edge of the door. She could just picture the contrary smile on his arrogant face—at least, she would if she could even fathom the man smiling. Which seemed an impossibility. He was playing with her, pushing her. Hoping to run her off.

Vile man. I'll show you who's not afraid of you and your bedchamber.

Still holding the edge of the door, she stepped fully onto the threshold, the door opening into a wide angle. She glanced at him once, then swiftly looked away, and her cheeks burst into flame. He was
naked,
and the image that she'd seen for only the briefest moment was burned into her brain.

And it was much more fascinating—no, no,
intimidating
—than her previous, mental one.

Try as she might, closing her eyes, blinking, looking into the depths of the shadowy room, she couldn't banish the image of him sitting up, lounging against the head of the bed. The sheets were
low,
down to his
waist,
and a broad, very hairy chest and muscular arms showed dark against the white sheets. Maia tried to swallow, and her throat made an odd creaking sound because it was so dry. She felt all sorts of fluttering, hot feelings inside.

At last she found her voice. “This is exceedingly untoward.”

“What is it, Miss Woodmore?” He was taunting her.
Definitely
taunting her. “Surely the sight of a man's torso isn't all that upsetting to a woman who is due to be married in short order.”

“You could cover yourself,” she said from between unmoving jaws.

“I see no reason to do so. Now what is it you must speak with me about?”

He really is the vilest man.
She refused to look at him. Absolutely refused to allow her peripheral vision to scan over the impossibly square angle of his shoulders, outlined so well by the pale bedcoverings.

Maia continued, turning her attention to the matter at
hand. “It's Angelica. She's been bitten by a…by one of those creatures that came to the masquerade ball.
Vampirs.
And she had horrible nightmares last night, my lord. I held her all night long, and she cried and thrashed.” Her voice turned rough and she had to swallow hard to keep it steady. Despite her own dream of being bitten—a dream, a memory, that hadn't fully left her and still wrapped itself slyly around her consciousness—she knew that Angelica's experience had not been the hot, sensual one of her dream. “She won't tell me precisely what happened, but I fear that the worst has been done.” If Dewhurst had ravished and ruined her sister, Maia would go after him herself,
vampir
or no. If Aunt Iliana could do it somehow, carrying a stake and presumably using it, so could Maia. “Not to mention…”

He shuffled under the bedcoverings, and she heard the crisp shift of the starched sheets. “I'm aware of all that you've told me, Miss Woodmore. And if you find it reassuring, your sister has assured me that…er…there is no reason to demand satisfaction or that Dewhurst come up to snuff. She is intact.”

“Up to snuff? I should hope not!” Maia exclaimed, forgetting herself and glancing at him. His face didn't seem to have the same arrogance she was used to. Was the man softening, or was it merely the result of being awakened? “Even if he did—well…I would
never
…Chas would
never
…allow him to come near her again.” Angelica compromised and wed to a
vampir?
Never.

“You seem to have forgotten that
I
am Angelica's guardian at this time,” Corvindale said. The arrogance was back.

And so was her fury with him. God rot Chas for sticking her and Angelica with this impossible man as a
temporary
guardian. “As I said, my lord,
I
would not allow it.”

He shifted and the sheet
slipped farther.
Maia tore her gaze
away, but not before she saw…oh, God, a hip? A flat, ridged belly…and the shadow of something lower? She'd felt Alexander's chest before, of course, through his shirt…and, once, under it…but she hadn't really
seen
it. And even if she had, she didn't think it looked quite so…dark. And imposing. And—

Maia swallowed hard, and focused on the heavy curtains obscuring his window. She needed some answers, and she was going to get them—even if the man strode naked from his bed to come over and close the door himself. “What is my brother doing? How long has he been involved with these creatures? And what is
your
involvement, my lord? Do you associate with them, as well? Did you know that Dewhurst was one of them?”

“Do not concern yourself with me, or the other details, Miss Woodmore. All you need know is that you and your sisters are safe under my care, here at Blackmont Hall and at St. Bridie's, too. As for your brother…when he returns, I'm certain that he will answer at least some of your questions. And I am hopeful that he will do so in short order. Now, is there anything else, Miss Woodmore? This conversation hardly seems worth interrupting my sleep and threatening your reputation. Or is your reputation no longer a concern for you, now that you are off the marriage mart?”

She snapped upright and once again turned to look at him, meeting his eyes head-on. “You are beyond vile, Lord Corvindale,” she whispered in a purely heartfelt tone.

And the man actually had the nerve to
grin
at her. A cool, arrogant smirk.

Very well, then, my lord. You might be the gentleman, but I have my own ways of smirking right back at you.

“Corvindale, I insisted on speaking with you because I felt you should know all of the information. I had hoped you'd
do the courtesy of telling me what is happening and why. But apparently you cannot be bothered to do even that.”

She drew her shoulders back, and settled her hand on a hip, digging her fingers into her flesh in an effort to keep from curling them around his neck.

If he wasn't going to give her the information she wanted, she was going to make his life as difficult as she could, including opening the curtains in every window in the house. And putting vases with flowers on every table. And reordering
all
of the books in his library. And… “I also wanted to speak with you because it will be of the utmost importance that Angelica is seen out and in Society. This must happen as soon as possible so as to combat any rumors or
on dits
that might have begun since she disappeared after the masquerade. That is the only way to preserve her reputation.”

“And this concerns me, how?” He sounded deeply bored.

Maia gave him her own version of an arrogant smile. “Because you must be seen out and about with us. Quite a lot. In the next few days. In order to ensure that Angelica's reputation isn't besmirched, we will need the presence of an earl.” Not that she was going to enjoy being in his company that much, but if she'd learned one thing about the earl, it was that he
hated
being bothered by people.

Any people, for any reason.

Going out in Society for the next several nights, due to his duty—which he'd also demonstrated was something he would not shirk—was going to be a most unpleasant experience for him.

Thus, she would enjoy every minute of it.

She turned to go, and then paused to look over her shoulder. “I shall determine which invitations we will accept, my lord, and then advise your valet so that he can see you are properly dressed for the occasions.”

And she would make certain that she would pick the most crowded, flamboyant events to attend. Just because she could.

With that, she walked out of his chamber and closed the door with finality.

“A
ngelica?” Maia rushed out of her bedchamber, hair swinging loosely, nightgown bunching around her feet. “What is it?”

She'd been in a half slumber, spiraling into that warm, red world of sensuality that seemed to lure her every night as of late. It was the first night since her return from Black Maude's that Angelica had slept in her own bed, and Maia had kept her ears attuned for any sounds of distress from her sister's chamber…until she slipped into her dreams.

There must have been something that woke her, for when she came out into the hall, she nearly collided with Angelica.

“Oh!” her sister said, obviously surprised to see Maia.

“I was coming to check on you,” she said, looking at Angelica's wide eyes and pale face. Something had happened. Something more than a dream… Then she noticed something in her sister's hand. “What's that in your hand? A stick?”

But even as she said it, she understood. It wasn't merely a
stick in Angelica's hand, held close to the folds of her night gown, but a stake. Meant to stab a
vampir.
“Oh,” she said. She looked at her sister and their eyes met. The poor darling! She'd had such a horrible experience.

“What are you doing awake?” Angelica asked.

“I came to check on you. What's happened?” Maia asked, grabbing Angelica's hand and allowing her to lead the way back to Maia's chamber.

“I had a dream,” Angelica replied. But Maia noticed that she glanced covertly back toward her chamber, as if expecting to see something. Or some
one
coming out of the door. “That Vo—that Dewhurst came into my chamber at night.”

Maia looked at her sharply, her attention captured. They settled on her bed and she closed the door most of the way behind them. She left it cracked in the event there was something to hear from the corridor without.

“Darling, I'm so sorry,” Maia said, closing her fingers around Angelica's. Her hands were chilled, so unusual for the warm summer's night. “How terrifying it must be. I didn't hear you cry out, although I heard something that sounded like you mumbling in your sleep. Or talking to someone.”

“It seemed so real,” she whispered. Her eyes were far away. “He…”

Maia couldn't help but think of her own dreams. Certainly they'd awakened her…but never because she was frightened. Only because she wanted them to be real. She squeezed her sister's hands and struggled for the words to comfort her. “Sometimes dreams can be more frightening than reality,” Maia said. “And sometimes, they can be so much more…beautiful…than reality.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well.” Maia felt her face warm as she realized the direction in which their conversation was going. She sat up and pulled a pillow onto her lap, clutching it over her torso. Perhaps this wasn't an appropriate conversation to have after all. “I don't know if I should tell you about it. After all, you're still unwed and—”

“And so are you,” Angelica shot back. “You aren't married yet, dear sister, and so you haven't any more experience than I have.”

Maia couldn't hold back the little smile that came along with the warm bubbling in her belly. “But that isn't true, dear
younger
sister. Alexander and I have—” She stopped and decided that there were some things Angelica didn't need to know. The very thought of Alexander and his imminent return made her middle fill with nervousness. She collected her thoughts, trying to figure out just how much to confess. “Well, we
are
engaged, and Chas and the lady patrons haven't been as vigilant as they were before our engagement was announced.”

Angelica's eyes bulged, and Maia read the bald shock there. Obviously she believed that her elder sister was just as prim and proper as did the rest of the world. Including Corvindale.

“You and Mr. Bradington have—”

“No, no,” Maia said. “Not exactly. Not
precisely.
But… Angelica. It's quite nice. Erin and Beth are right. It's very pleasant. And I think it gets nicer.” She could do nothing to diffuse the blush warming her cheeks.

“And what does this have to do with dreams being better than the reality? Or did you mean they were more frightening than reality?”

“Well.” Maia hesitated. Perhaps this wasn't something she should confess to her sister. After all, it was very…personal.
She looked away, adjusting the pillow in her lap. Perhaps it would be best if she changed the subject. But before she could, Angelica pressed.

“What is it?”

Maia glanced around the room, noticing the soft golden light cast by the lamp and the rumpled bedclothes. Somehow, in the dimness, in the middle of the night, it seemed almost permissible to talk about it—just as she and Angelica had shared confidences when they were younger, deep under the covers when they were supposed to be sleeping. It had been a long time since she'd wanted to share her deepest confidences…with anyone. But she needed to. Maia drew in a deep breath and spoke. “After your experience with Dewhurst, I had a dream. About…it.”

“You dreamed about
Dewhurst?”

“Shh!”
Maia looked toward the ajar door. “You'll wake Mirabella! No, I didn't dream about
Dewhurst.
” She looked at her sister, scrutinizing her closely. What would Angelica think of her if she knew she'd liked the bite of a
vampir?

But perhaps…perhaps it would make her sister feel a little better, knowing that there was a different perspective. After all, even in Granny Grapes's stories, there had been
vampirs
who didn't mean to hurt people. And there were people who'd found the creatures fascinating. “It's going to sound horrible to you, Angelica. You'll think me mad.”

“Not any more than I already do,” Angelica replied with a small smile. “Tell me.”

Maia realized her fingers were plucking energetically at the lace on the pillow in her lap. “I dreamed that a
vampir
visited me in my chamber. But it wasn't frightening. It was…like embracing Alexander, and kissing him…but it was different. Better. And when the vampire bit me—”

Angelica gasped. “What?”

“In my dream, he bit me. Right…here. It didn't hurt, in my dream. In fact, it was…it made me…” She clamped her lips shut, realizing her voice had become a little breathy. That was just too much information. The next thing she knew, Maia would be confessing the kiss she'd shared with the Knave of Diamonds. Something
real
that had happened…and that she'd forced herself to try and forget.

Perhaps that was why she'd been focusing on the dreams so much—they weren't real. They couldn't happen.

She couldn't feel guilty about them. Especially now that Alexander was coming back. “You
liked
it?” Angelica exclaimed, causing Maia to glance toward the door for fear someone would hear them.

Her whole body froze, her belly dropping low and her heart stopping when she met a pair of glittering dark eyes in the dark corridor.
Corvindale.
Maia felt ill and hot and faint all at once and she clutched the pillow to her chest. “My
lord
.”

How long had he been standing there? What had he heard?
Oh, heavens…
What if he'd heard her talking about her
dream?
Thank God she hadn't told Angelica about the Knave of Diamonds, too!

His face seemed stonier, even more tight and angry than usual and she had to swallow hard to keep her heart from surging up into her throat. She couldn't remember a time she'd ever been so mortified.

“My apologies. I was just arriving home and heard voices,” the earl said—or something like that. Maia couldn't hear a thing over the rushing sound in her ears and the pounding of her heart.

Of all people to hear her confess such a thing…it had to be Corvindale.

She wanted to crawl under the bed and hide. But she
didn't. She managed to speak calmly, she supposed; but she couldn't remember exactly what she said. And soon he was gone to investigate some noises he'd heard below, leaving her and Angelica alone again.

With the door closed tightly behind him.

Her sister didn't seem to realize what had happened, and for that Maia was grateful. But her cheeks were still hot and it took a long time for her heart to stop pounding so erratically.

Part of the reason was that, for a moment there, she'd only seen part of the earl's face. The lower part, exposed by the wavering light from her lamp. And for a stunning, heart-stopping second, she'd focused on his mouth.

And she recognized it.

The Knave of Diamonds.

It was a good thing she was curled up on her bed, for her knees turned to water and she was literally unable to breathe.

But by the time the earl had spoken, and then taken his leave, Maia had realized her error. There were a multitude of reasons that the knave couldn't have been Corvindale—the most compelling of which was the fact that the masked man had not only conversed and flirted with her, but kissed her, as well. All without one insulting comment.

For Corvindale to have done something so out of character was an impossibility. Especially since it was clear that he despised Maia as much as she despised him.

Although
“I do hope you aren't about to cast up your accounts on my waistcoat”
might qualify as an insult….

“Angelica,” Maia whispered, when she saw her sister with her ear pressed to the crack of the door. “What are you doing?” But it was obvious: she was listening to whatever Corvindale had gone to investigate.

Curious and willing to have a distraction, she joined her taller sibling, forced to half crouch next to her at the open door. They listened for a moment and heard nothing but the faint creaks and groans of the house.

“Did you really like it, in your dream? When he bit you?”

Angelica whispered.

Maia froze. “I don't want to talk about it,” she snapped softly.
I wish I'd kept my mouth closed.
She heard a dull thud below, then silence.

“I cannot imagine finding it anything but horrifying,”

Angelica whispered back.

Maia had to close her eyes as a warm shiver of remembrance trickled through her. “Even those stories Granny used to tell us, about the vampires…even then there were some people who didn't find it…horrible.” Apparently she was one of them. Of course, perhaps if it happened in reality she might change her mind…. “And it was just a
dream,
Angelica.”

They both heard the footsteps ascending the stairs at the same time. They whipped around simultaneously, silently dashing back to the bed. They'd just tumbled onto it in a heap of nightgowns and pillows when someone rapped on the bedchamber door.

“At least he knocked this time,” Maia muttered as the door eased open.

But then she saw who it was, and she was right behind Angelica as she flew off the bed. “Chas!” she and Angelica cried at the same time.

“Hush—no one can know I'm here,” he said, embracing them both. “Come down to the study with me so we can converse privately.”

Relief and annoyance rushed through Maia. She had
plenty of questions for her brother, as well as a demand: to get her away from the Earl of Corvindale.

She was more than delighted to pull on a robe and follow him down to the parlor.

 

So these are Chas's sisters.

Narcise Moldavi watched as the two young women entered the parlor at Blackmont Hall. Wearing a wide-brimmed hat and men's clothing, Narcise leaned against the fireplace and waited, knowing that they wouldn't realize she was a woman. The brim shaded her face, and the faint brush of soot she'd applied beneath her cheekbones to give her not only the impression of gauntness, but a bit of stubble, made her look like a skinny old man.

The sisters were very different in appearance, as well as in demeanor. One of them was dark and gypsyish looking like Chas, with lush brown hair, dusky-rose skin and exotic eyes. She took a seat and scanned the room, clearly observing and taking it all in. She was taller than the other, lighter-haired one, who strode in and immediately began to make adjustments: the lamp wicks, the pillows on the sofa, even Dimitri's stacks of books.

That one must be Maia, and the dark one was Angelica.

Both women were striking, but the elder one was a classic English beauty with her fair complexion. Petite and delicate, unlike Narcise, Maia had hair that defied description: it was neither blond nor chestnut nor auburn, but a mixture of the three shades, and then some. She had a heart-shaped face and a rosebud mouth that seemed to be pursed with annoyance. Her sharp green-brown eyes shot daggers at Chas when he was standing next to Dimitri, talking in a low voice as they sipped whiskey.

Chas had best keep her from Cezar's sight.
Narcise shivered,
thinking of what her brother would do to such a beautiful young woman as Maia Woodmore. Considering what he'd done to Narcise, his own sister…

Of course, the fact that she was Dracule and must live forever was added incentive for Cezar to do what he would. Or to have his friends do what they would, which was more to his taste anyway. Incest, at least, was not one of Cezar's many sins.

After all, no matter what sort of torment and pleasure they put her through, Narcise couldn't die without a wooden stake to the heart or ten minutes in the sun. Which was why Cezar had made certain all of the furnishings in her windowless chamber had been made of metal. He was taking no chances of losing his favorite bargaining chip.

At the thought, Narcise couldn't quite suppress the flutter of panic that swirled in her belly. Chas had helped her escape from that horror, but that didn't mean she'd never return to it. Cezar wouldn't stop searching for her until he was dead.