by L. M. Pruitt
“So We can see.” Bienvenu stood, straightening His coat before crossing to kneel in front of us. Grasping Sophie’s chin, He tugged gently until she turned to look at Him. “You are far too beautiful for tears, little poppet. You will dry them now and tell Us about your conversation with this mean man.”
As Sophie sniffled and wiped her eyes, I exhaled slowly, glancing again at the Duke. It would appear a dinner invitation would be unnecessary.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Please, no, Grégoire.” I rolled over, groaning in to the pillow. “I am far too tired.”
“We have slept half the day away, darling.” Pushing my hair to the side, he pressed a teasing kiss to the side of my throat. “And while I would be content to spend the rest of eternity here with you, we both have things which must be attended to.”
“I wager it is not even one in the afternoon.” I groaned again, rolling back over and straddling him, burrowing my face in the curve of his neck. “And the King did not leave until eight this morning.”
“All very true and yet….” He trailed off when I began to kiss my way down his torso. Clearing his throat, he said, “I do believe I lost my train of thought.”
“Hmm, how unfortunate.” I swirled my tongue over one nipple, murmuring contentedly when it pebbled and peaked before switching to the other. “Most would take such a thing as a sign they should seek their beds.”
“Indeed.” He sucked in a deep breath, exhaling through clenched teeth as he threaded his fingers through my loose curls. “Still, we both know I am made of sterner stuff.”
“Indeed, Your Grace.” I slid lower, pressing my lips to one hipbone then the other as I wrapped my hand around the long, hard, evidence of his arousal. “I believe I’ve discovered this ‘sterner stuff’ of which you speak.”
“Marguerite… little daisy….” His pleas tapered off in a low groan when I closed my lips around the head of his shaft, stroking the length with my tongue. “Please.”
I drew back until he slipped from the warm wetness of my mouth, opening my eyes and gazing up at him. “Please what, Your Grace?”
“Please do not stop.” He closed his eyes and threw his head back on another groan when I took him in my mouth again, deeper this time, until my nose was pressed against the warmth of his belly. “Mon Dieu, ma petite pâquerette, mon Dieu.”
Digging my nails in to the tense muscles of his thighs, I sucked on his shaft, slow and gentle at first, increasing the pressure by degrees. I watched him through hooded eyes, taking in every emotion as it flickered across his face. When he groaned and sank his fangs in to his lower lip, I was unable to hold back a whimper.
“Enough.” His grip on my hair tightened almost to the point of pain as he tugged me upward, uttering a harsh cry when I swirled my tongue around the head of his shaft as it passed between my lips. His eyes were a wild swirl of red and blue, his breathing ragged as he took my mouth with his, the kiss vicious enough to draw blood. Drawing back, he panted out, “I need you, Marguerite.”
“And I you, Your Grace.” Lifting my hips, I shifted until I felt the head of his shaft brush against the warmth and wetness of my sensitive folds. Moving backward, I took him deep inside me, both of us sighing as my hips came to rest against his. I kissed him, the taste of blood sweet on my tongue, before pulling back and whispering, “Free me, Your Grace, and let me take us to pleasure.”
“Yes.” Stroking his hands down my shoulders, he pushed me to a sitting position before cupping my breasts. Rubbing his thumbs over my nipples, he smiled at me as I whimpered. “Take us to pleasure, darling.”
I rose up slightly, until only the very tip of his shaft remained inside, pausing for a moment before easing back down. When Grégoire let out a pitiful mock groan, I laughed and shook my head. “All in due time, Your Grace. Some things cannot be rushed.”
“And yet I feel this thing must.” As I rose and fell again, he thrust upward, grinding his hips against mine. “You’ve robbed me of all patience, Marguerite.” Streaking one hand down my torso, he slid his fingers over the sensitive, swollen numb inches away from where our bodies joined. “I shall apologize for my greediness at some later juncture but right now… right now, my need is too fierce.”
“As you wish, Your Grace.” Leaning forward again, I braced my hands on either side of his face. His ministrations were serving their purpose, ramping up my own desire, strangling the breath in my lungs. Within minutes, the smooth roll of his hips became erratic, the rubbing of his fingers jerky and uneven. I pressed my forehead to his as my stomach and thighs tightened, my release rapidly approaching. “Grégoire.”
“Yes, darling.” Turning his head, he licked the delicate beads of sweat dewing my throat. “Now?”
“Now.”
He sank his fangs in to my neck, my cry of orgasm muffled by his shoulder. With one last upward thrust, he poured his own release in to me, the warmth only prolonging my own rapture. Retracting his fangs, he closed the twin holes with a swipe of his tongue before collapsing back on the pillows.
When my heart finally ceased racing, I slid off him, landing face down in the mattress. The Duke chuckled before turning on his side and gathering me up against him. Pulling the bedcovers over us, he said, “I believe, darling, we are both in need of a nap.”
“Hmm, yes.” I snuggled back against him, sighing as he wrapped his arm around my waist. “A very long one.”
“How extremely decadent we’ve been today.” The Duke lazily twirled a tangled curl of hair around one finger, his free hand stroking up and down my back. “I don’t believe we’ve spent an entire day in bed in years.”
“We’ve ventured beyond the bed today.” I rolled over, stretching my arms and legs until each muscle was deliciously loose. “If I recall correctly, there was the hour or so in the double bath. And then a second nap on the chaise lounge. And a third on the closet floor. And then--.”
“I’m well aware of how we’ve spent the day, you insufferable little baggage.” Laughing, he leaned over and pressed his cheek to my stomach. “But since you are insisting on accuracy, perhaps I should say it has been years since we spent a day in only our own company.”
“Between your time at Court, my time with the school and with my charities--.”
“And Sophie.” He raked his fangs over my skin, leaving only the faintest of scratches but succeeding in raising goosebumps over my entire body. “Mustn’t forget her.”
“As if anyone could.” I chuckled, fisting my hand in his hair as he swirled his tongue over the tingling flesh. “The point, Your Grace, is we seldom make the effort to simply be alone.”
“I see your point, my lady.” He moved lower, continuing to scratch and lick, shifting until he was once again between my thighs. Pausing, he glanced up at me, his expression far too serious for the somewhat light-hearted conversation. “You are always welcome to take me up on my offer.”
“Grégoire, please.” Releasing his hair, I sighed as I flopped back on the mattress. “I do not wish to ruin this wonderful day with a discussion we both know will end in an argument.”
“It only becomes an argument because you refuse to see wisdom.” Resting his head on one thigh, he ran his hand down my other leg, the touch more comforting than arousing. “You know there would be no objection if I were to present the request to the King. If anything, He would give His blessing.”
“Grégoire, I cannot make the decision to become a vampyre with the same sort of blasé I usually reserve for choosing the weekly menu.”
“And I would not expect you to but at the very least I would like for you to make an effort to learn more about the process.” He pushed up to his knees and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Fifteen years might seem quite a long time for you but it is akin to a minute for me. Forgive me if I would like to stretch that minute in to a true eternity.”
“I am only thirty-five. Technically.” I smiled in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “I believe, though, I’ve taken enough of your
blood that I am closer to twenty-five.”
“Be that as it may, it is not enough for me, Marguerite.” Reaching out, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him, banding his arm around my waist. He brought his mouth down on mine with a thinly veiled violence that nevertheless shot an arrow of lust through me. Drawing back, he stared down at me, his cheeks flushed with a combination of my blood and his. “One lifetime is not even close to enough.”
“Despite my protests, I feel very much the same, Your Grace.” I pressed my forehead to his and brushed a kiss over the tip of his nose. “But it is still the sort of decision one does not make lightly. Did you not have a moment of hesitation before you decided to be reborn?”
“Quite frankly, I was not given a choice.” He laughed when I gasped. “We weren’t always so civilized, dearest. One of the reasons we have been driven out of more than one country over the last four centuries.”
“Still, considering the way all of you speak of being reborn with such… reverence, I’ve always assumed it was something you desired.” Wiggling my hand out of his grip, I braced my elbows on his shoulder, studying his face. “You’ve never told me about your rebirth.”
“It’s quite the boring story.” He laughed even louder when I pushed out my lower lip and fluttered my lashes. “Do you truly believe such pedestrian techniques will work on me?”
I smiled. “Of course, dearest.”
“And you are right—as you usually are when you are naked.” Heaving a heavy sigh, he tilted forward, toppling both of us back to the mattress. “Very well, my little flower—but only the short version. I can think of other ways to spend our evening.
“You know I was born in France. Although we celebrate that joyous event in February, I will confess to have long forgotten the exact date.” He shrugged, apparently unconcerned with how such a statement sounded. “I do know I was over thirty years old when I was reborn so I can assume my birth took place sometime between 1535 and 1540.”
Nestling my head on his chest, I stroked his ribs absently, my fingers playing over the various scars. “You told me once you were a whipping boy for the local gentry.”
“Yes, but eventually even whipping boys grow up.” He propped his chin on my head, resuming twirling locks of my hair around his fingers. “I followed in my father’s footsteps, working as a mercer and importing silks and other cloths.”
“That would explain your impeccable taste in matters of fashion.”
“Yes, it would.” He pinched my earlobe, chuckling when I squealed. “Now be quiet, so I may tell this story with some degree of efficiency.
“In 1572, I was presented with an opportunity to travel to Paris with some of my wares as part of the celebration surrounding the wedding of the princess.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, that joyous occasion was disrupted by the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre.”
“Grégoire.” I sat up, shoving my hair out of my face and staring down at him. “Do not tell me you died during the religious riots.”
“It is either that or lie to you and we both know how much you detest when I even attempt to do the latter.” Reaching up, he cupped my cheek, rubbing his thumb over my lower lip. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, darling. Or considering my life, the right place at the right time.”
“I will never understand why wars are fought in the name of God.” I snorted as I curled up next to him again. “I, for one, do not think God approves of such things.”
“You are quite in the minority in such things, dearest.” He shrugged again. “I have no opinion either way. Luckily, neither does Bienvenu.” He hugged me closer, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “The King happened to be in the area when the Huguenots stormed the inn where I was staying. He saw me fight and decided I would be a most fitting companion.”
“Simply from watching you try and fail to defend your life?” I snorted again. “The same man who will not allow anyone in His presence who is not coiffed and attired within an inch of their life?”
“The King was not always so, Marguerite. He has needed to adapt in order to maintain control over all vampyres. When we were a group of wanderers without a country, things were easier. Now….” He trailed off, sighing, before shifting until I could see his face. “Do you know Bienvenu is not his real name?” His laugh this time was almost bitter. “He adopted it in much the same way He adopted the ways of the French Court. So many of our brethren were reborn in France He believed running his kingdom in a similar way to their old monarchy would ensure they do not rise up.”
“I see.” And to my surprise, I did. All vampyres, even newly reborn ones, were fanatical about rules and laws and protocols. It was not quite the obsessional behavior whispered during the War by the superstitious Church and an ill-educated populace but it was fairly close. “So Bienvenu saved you and you have served Him ever since.”
“In some capacity or another. It is why I was appointed alderman of the vampyre district for the new capital in those early days after the end of the War.” He smiled and kissed me, his lips lingering on mine. “Where, as fate would have it, I met a certain young lady who captivated me in an instant.”
“And now?” I slid my hand down his torso, my fingers inches away from his shaft. “What about now, Your Grace?”
“If it’s proof you require, my little daisy.” He rolled us until I was pinned to the mattress and grinned down at me. “I shall be more than happy to provide it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The next morning, I glided in to the classroom, waiting until the chatter had died down before speaking. “Good morning, everyone.”
“Good morning, Madame.” The perfection of the collective chorus was marred by a spatter of giggles from the back row. I wasn’t surprised by their existence—my household was small enough that my and the Duke’s absence the day prior was no doubt quite noticeable. And despite the worldliness of their impending occupation, all of my students were still young enough and innocent enough to find the idea of adults engaging in sexual activity something worthy of laughter.
“As some of you know, either because you have been with us for an extended period of time or because of general gossip, twice a year the school holds a formal ball for the purposes of showing those sponsoring a student what their charge has learned and to allow those of you without sponsors to be presented.” I gazed around the room, struggling to contain a smile at the eager expressions etched on everyone’s faces. After a moment, I continued. “Our next event will coincide with the upcoming visit from the Prince of the Northern Territories and will take place in exactly two weeks.”
Every last student burst in to enthusiastic chatter, the din rising until I could scarcely hear myself think. I allowed them a few minutes to release some of their excitement before clearing my throat and raising my voice. “There will be plenty of time to celebrate later. Right now, there are a few more points of note which must be discussed.”
When the room was once again quiet—or rather somewhat quiet, since it seemed impossible for any of them to cease wiggling and squirming in their desks like a basket of overeager puppies—I continued. “From now until the ball, you will all have additional coursework related to preparations for the event.” I was forced to raise my voice yet again over the chorus of groans. “This is an excellent way for each of you to learn time-management skills. When you are ensconced in your new home, it will be very rare for you to have a staff of the size found here.
“I have spoken with Victoria and we have divided you in to various committees. You will be working directly with those members of the household responsible for everything from the menu to the flowers to the cleaning.” A second chorus of groans rang out and I scowled. “Yes, there will be additional cleaning. Not everything involving a ball is fun and games.”
“Before any of you think to ask, each committee will be a mixture of older students and younger ones in an effort to keep the work load somewhat equal.” Victoria stepped forward, the movement once again fluid a
nd smooth. Her gaze was clear and calm, none of the panic from a few days ago evident. “You will be informed of your duties before we dismiss for the midday meal. After eating, you will spend one hour working with your advisor. With the exception of Sundays, this will be your schedule until two days before the ball.”
“And yes—you will all be fitted with new gowns and evening wear.” My scowl faded in to an indulgent smile at the excited squeals and clapping. Shaking my head, I glanced at Victoria. “I’m afraid I’ve made your job this morning more than a little difficult.”
“Perhaps, Madame, but we are both aware I enjoy a challenge.” Victoria chuckled and clapped her hands together sharply. “Ladies and gentlemen, eyes to the front! As a hint toward the activity some of you will be engaging in soon, this morning we will be working on our penmanship.”
I smiled as I left the classroom to the sound of groans echoing in my ears.
“Lady Saint-Laurent!” The smile creasing the face of the cloth merchant’s face was nearly as wide as the merchant himself. He hurried down the aisle toward me, his sizable bulk brushing the tables on each side. Slightly out of breath, he offered a bow, somehow managing to bend his body until his forehead nearly touched the floor. Straightening, he said, “I am so honored to have you in my establishment again.”
“Harold, I have told you numerous times, you do not need to address me with such grandeur.” I tugged off my gloves before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “After all, you have known me since I was even younger than my own daughter.”
“And both your parents would expect me to treat you with the respect due your rank.” Harold frowned and scratched his balding head. “I’m assuming so, anyway, what with the old country not having the same sort of class system.”