“You influenced my dreams?”
He shrugged sheepishly. “To a certain extent. Being a vampire is a highly guarded secret and I can control what you know about me. I wanted to tell you myself. I wanted to explain.”
Grace stayed quiet.
As he held her warm, naked body in his arms, he had revealed many secrets to her. As ugly as those secrets were, she did not seem to be repulsed by him as he feared she might be. Uncertain how much she had changed from being Gráinne to Grace, he did not know how she would react to his secret. Gráinne had not feared him, but he did not know what to expect from Grace.
“So what happens now?” she finally asked.
“That is up to you.”
“I am not marrying Lord Grayson.”
He laughed, filled with satisfaction at her words. “I should hope not! Not after what we’ve done in this bed all day.”
“Phillip?” she asked hesitantly.
“What is it?”
“Are you going to make me a vampire?”
A long silence ensued. His eyes focused on her. “I want you with me always, Grace, because I know what it is like to live without you. But as before, I would hate to take your humanity from you. I would hate to make you a monster.”
“But would you if I asked you to?”
He hesitated, just as he had done when Gráinne asked him a century ago. “Yes.”
Her pretty blue eyes widened.
“But only if you have had time to think about what you are committing to, what it really means, and how the world as you know it will change completely. Once you become a vampire, it cannot be undone. It is nothing to take lightly.”
She kissed him and he felt as if the sun had warmed him. “Will you explain more of the details to me?”
“If you promise to take some time, a few days at least, to consider the impact of becoming a vampire with me. When you are quite sure, then I will make you a vampire.”
“Do you know how to make a vampire? Have you made one before?” Her blue eyes glanced at him in uncertainty.
“Yes. And no.” He certainly knew how to make one, but he had never bestowed that horror on a human being and he had huge reservations about doing so to Grace. However, he had lived the alternative and knew, once having found her again, there was no way he could exist without her in his life. He had to make her a vampire. But he wanted her to have more time to think about the gravity of the choice she was making. “You need to go home and decide you want to be a vampire when you are not naked in my bed and under my influence. I won’t take no for an answer on this.”
Grace suddenly sat up, panic on her face. “Good heavens! Home! What must they be thinking? What time is it? How long have I been here?”
“It’s almost six o’clock in the evening.”
“I’ve been with you all day!” she cried in anguish. “I left a note that I’d only gone for a walk. They must be frantic looking for me by now.”
He sought to calm her. “Get dressed and I will take you home.”
“What can I tell them? They won’t believe I was out walking in the rain all day.”
“Most likely not, but you can say you were with a friend.”
She gave him a wry look and then hurried to dress as Phillip watched her. She was beautiful and sweet, just as she had been as Gráinne. He could not believe his good fortune in finding her for a second time. He had been lucky to even meet someone as wonderful as her a century ago. To have her in his life once again brought him more happiness than he had a right to have.
Chapter Seven
Every lamp was lit and the house was practically glowing from the street. Filled with dread, Grace entered the house. As much as she hated leaving Phillip and had toyed with the idea of simply staying with him forever, she knew he was right. She had to make a clean break with her human life before she joined him in his vampire world.
As was always her way, she needed to wrap matters up neatly and say her goodbyes. She had to face Mary one last time. She had to end her engagement with Lord Grayson in person. He had been nothing but kind to her and she owed him at least that much respect.
Grace squared her shoulders and opened the door. The household was in an uproar and her sudden entrance only made it worse. A chorus of shouts and cries greeted her as the servants gathered around her in the foyer.
“She’s home!”
“She’s safe!”
“Oh, Miss Grace, we have been looking for you everywhere!”
Mary loomed in the doorway of the parlor, her round face pinched in a tight frown and her eyes narrowed with mistrust. Lord Grayson stood behind her. Grace felt a twinge of guilt when she saw the worry and concern on his features. He rushed to her side, placing an arm around her shoulder and guiding her into the warm parlor.
“My dear, are you all right? We have been searching for you all afternoon. I came right over as soon as Mrs. Sutton sent a note around telling me you had not returned from your walk.”
Mary waved the servants away and followed Grace into the parlor. Grace sensed her mother-in-law’s anger boring into her spine, but knew Mary would say nothing in front of Lord Grayson. She’d save her wrath for when they were alone.
Lord Grayson escorted Grace to a seat on the sofa, where he helped her take off her coat. As she removed her hat and gloves, he sat beside her, clearly worried, his face appearing older than she remembered.
Mary did not sit, but said in a clipped tone, “I can see that you are unharmed and quite well, Grace, so I can assume you were not in any danger all day. You left this house before dawn, without a word to anyone, sending everyone into a panic over your whereabouts and safety. Now you return over twelve hours later as if nothing were amiss. I think you owe us the decency of an explanation.”
Lord Grayson gave her a puzzled look. “Are you sure you are unhurt, my dear?”
“I am fine,” Grace assured him. Her life had turned completely upside down in the past day, but she could divulge only so much information.
He patted her shoulder. “I am relieved to know you are well, but I must admit to my curiosity. Where have you been all day, Grace?”
She avoided Mary’s eyes and focused on Lord Grayson. “I was with a friend.”
“What friend?” Mary demanded, her voice rising in anger.
Grace placed her hand over his. “May I speak with you privately, Reginald?”
“Yes, of course.” He turned pointedly to Mary. “If you would please excuse us, Mrs. Sutton.”
Mary huffed in indignation and stalked from the room.
He turned back to her with a questioning expression and squeezed her hand. “I have the most dreadful feeling I am not going to like what I am about to hear.”
Grace took a deep breath. “I fear you are correct, Reginald.” Pausing, she gazed into his kind eyes. As nice as he was, she might have found a kind of peace with him. They might have led a very pleasant life together. Had she not met Phillip. Again. After the day she had spent in his bed, there was no possibility of her settling for Reginald. It would spell misery for both of them, for in her heart she would always want to be with the man she loved. Phillip.
Grace took a deep breath before the words spilled out. “I am very sorry, but I cannot marry you after all.”
He looked away from her, as if he could not bear to see her face. Grace felt sick, even though she knew she was making the right decision. As much as she longed to be with Phillip, Reginald needed to be with a woman who loved him in return.
“That is what I feared.” He turned back to face her. “May I ask why you have changed your mind about becoming my wife? Has it anything to do with who you were with today?”
“Yes,” she paused, considering just how much to share with him. “I have discovered that I am in love with someone else.”
The expression on his face looked as if someone had punched him in the stomach and his lips made a tight line. “I see.” He pulled his hand away from hers.
Grace cou
ld not meet his eyes. “I am sorry.”
“Is it Lord Radcliffe?” he asked.
She nodded her head. “How did you know?”
“Your mother-in-law mentioned that you were...lingering with him on the steps last night. How can this be, Grace? You only just met the man.” His words were tinged with a hint of anger.
“Yes, I know,” Grace attempted to explain. “It seems rather sudden, but I assure that our feelings are true and that—“
“Your feelings?” Lord Grayson rose from the sofa and began to pace back and forth in front of her. “It seems you have not considered anyone’s feelings in this situation but your own, Grace. My feelings were not something you thought of. We announced our engagement to everyone. You have now publicly humiliated me with this Radcliffe man. I am the seventh Earl of Grayson. How can I face anyone, knowing my fiancée has jilted me for another man? How can I hold up my head?”
Tears stung behind her eyes and she blinked. Oh, he was taking this much worse than she had expected. “I am very sorry, Reginald. I did not intend to hurt you or humiliate you—“
“Did you not spend the entire day with this man, unchaperoned?”
She opened her mouth but nothing came out.
“Did you not sit here in this very room two nights ago and promise to become my wife?” His angry words echoed through the parlor.
“I—“ she began again, but he would not let her speak.
“Did you not kiss me and plan a December wedding while sitting exactly where you are now?”
“Yes, I did, but—“
“You break your promises too easily, Grace. You have humiliated me and proven yourself to be a woman of loose morals and low character. I am well rid of you. Goodnight.” He turned and stalked from the parlor.
Grace covered her face with her hands. No, he had not taken it well at all. But at least it was done now. Her heart ached for him and she felt wretched about breaking her promise. But how could she explain that she had met the vampire she loved one hundred years ago and was now going to become one herself so they could be together forever? She shook her head and a hysterical laugh bubbled within her. No, he was quite right. He was well rid of her.
She rose and wrung her hands together. She still had Mary to deal with. But not now. It had been an overwhelming and exhausting day and Mary could wait until morning. Grateful that her mother-in-law was nowhere to be seen, she made her way up the main staircase to her bedroom, longing for a hot bath and some quiet and solitude. Grace opened the door of her bedroom and froze at the sight.
Good heavens! Her neat and orderly room was a shambles! Everything had been searched. Her wardrobe was wide open and articles of her clothing were strewn about the floor. Every drawer was open and upended. Her elegant writing desk had been turned upside down. Every memento and keep-sake of her life had been touched, moved, pawed through.
And worst of all, Mary Sutton sat in the overstuffed armchair in the middle of her room with her wire spectacles perched on her nose. Grace’s dream journal was in her hands.
Mary sneered, her round face a study in disgust. She held up the leather-bound journal as if it contained all the world’s sins. “It is no wonder my poor son hung himself to get away from you.”
Covering her chest with her hands, Grace gasped, not only at the outrageous invasion of her privacy, but also at the pure venom in the woman’s words.
“How dare you say such a thing to me!” Grace cried, furious at being blamed for Henry’s death.
Ever since that horrific day, Mary had not so subtly been hinting that Grace was the reason Henry had taken his life. Not that Grace needed more cause for grief, for she had tortured herself many a night worrying that she had inadvertently done something to make her young husband end his life. A good enough reason never surfaced, whether real or perceived, to rationalize what he had done, not only to himself, but also to her and their life together. After burying herself in sorrow for years and allowing her mother-in-law to punish her for something she had not done, Grace had finally begun to grow angry over the situation.
She was angry with Henry for being utterly selfish and for leaving her alone. Angry at Mary for forcing her to lie to everyone about how Henry had died and for making her feel responsible for his death. And most of all, angry with herself for allowing the situation to come to this.
Now to have Mary fling such hateful words at her and to see her private, intimate dreams and thoughts in the hands of her mother-in-law was more than Grace could bear. She wasn’t sure if the change in her was due to spending the day with Phillip or knowing that she was about to permanently remove herself from this life that she could finally stand up for herself.
“Oh,” Mary hissed coldly, “I have every right to dare, since what you do in my house reflects on me!”
Something in Grace finally snapped. “This is my house. Henry left it to me. What I do in my house is my business. It is only by my generosity that I allow you to stay here!”
Mary’s face turned almost purple with outrage and a rush of triumph flooded through Grace. It wasn’t often she left Mary speechless. They had never discussed the fact that the house belonged to Grace, because Grace had been too considerate and never wanted Henry’s mother to feel that she had to leave her home. But Grace wanted her to leave now. She never wanted to lay eyes on the woman again.
Mary sputtered some incoherent words before rising from the armchair and taking a step toward Grace. She still clutched the journal tightly in her hand. “I suppose this ugly behavior of yours has something to do with your disappearance today. You were with him all day, weren’t you?”
Grace did not care anymore. “As a matter of fact, I was.”
“After I expressly forbade you to see him?”
“Yes.” Grace folded her arms across her chest. “I am going to marry him.”
“That’s what he says now, you stupid little fool, to get you into his bed. He’s not going to marry you. You just met him, for God’s sake! And you now have ruined your engagement with Lord Grayson.”
“I broke off my engagement with him before he left. I am marrying Lord Radcliffe within the week,” Grace declared boldly, surprising herself with her newfound assertiveness with Mary.
Mary nodded her head slowly as if she knew better. “Well, it is quite obvious to me what has happened to you. It is a good thing I have already sent for Doctor Vickers.”
Grace’s brows drew together in confusion. “Doctor Vickers?”
He was the family physician, but she had no idea why Mary would summon him here tonight. Grace had never liked the man. He always looked at her in a leering way that made her uncomfortable. She was thankful she was healthy and had no cause for his services, unlike Mary, who called on him several times a month for her various and vague illnesses.
“Yes. It is apparent that you are in need of professional help, Grace.”
Grace laughed at the absurdity of her assertion.
“I have been worried about you for some time,” Mary continued. “Your sleeplessness and waking at odd hours. Your ravings about wicked dreams and past lives in this journal. Your reckless behavior in disappearing today and spending time alone with Lord Radcliffe, a man you hardly know. And, of course, breaking an engagement to a well-respected and wealthy earl is clearly the action of an unbalanced mind.”
“An unbalanced mind?” Grace echoed in disbelief.
“Ah, Doctor Vickers.” Mary’s eyes moved behind Grace. “It was good of you to come right over. I’ve been so worried.”
Grace spun around to see the rather tall, broad-shouldered, bearded, and bespectacled doctor standing in the doorway of her bedroom. He held a black leather medical bag in his hand. A chill of unease crept through her.
“Good evening, Mrs. Sutton.” He nodded his head in her direction, his eyes flickering over her. “Miss Grace.”
“It’s worse than I first thought, Doctor. Just look at her. Look at this room.” Mary waved her hand, indicating that Gr
ace had created the terrible mess. “Grace has become completely irrational and her behavior quite reckless. She ran off in the pouring rain before dawn this morning, without telling a soul where she had gone. And as I suspected, she spent the entire day being seduced by an evil man she barely knows. Then this evening she broke her engagement with Lord Grayson. If that weren’t proof enough, there is this journal, full of lurid descriptions of sinful dreams and desires of another life she claims to have had.”
“The situation does seem rather worrisome.” His sharp eyes raked over Grace and she could not help but shiver. “It is most fortunate that you sent for me, Mrs. Sutton.”
Grace stared between the two of them. They thought she was insane. Suppressing a nervous laugh, she began to speak. “Doctor Vickers, please let me explain—“
“Now, now, Miss Grace. There is nothing to get upset about.” He stepped toward her more quickly than she thought a man of his size could move and placed his hand quite forcefully on her arm, compelling her to step backward. “Why don’t you have a seat in this chair and rest for a while?”
She stumbled and he practically pushed her into the armchair where Mary had first been seated.
“There is nothing wrong with me,” Grace protested, as panic began to grow within her. Something was happening and Mary had planned it.
Doctor Vickers loomed over her, peering closely. “Her eyes are quite dilated.” He set his black bag upon the small end table next to the chair and began rummaging through it. “Mrs. Sutton, may I ask you to leave us for a moment while I examine her?”
Mary smiled triumphantly at Grace. “Of course, Doctor.” She hurried from the room, closing the door behind her.
“Now, now, Miss Grace, there is nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about. I can take care of you.” He uncorked a small amber glass bottle filled with a dark liquid. “If you drink this, my dear, you will sleep tonight without those dreams troubling you.”
“I don’t wish to drink that. And I am not having troubling dreams.” She attempted to stand, but he easily pressed her back into the chair.
Yours for Eternity Page 24