by Колин Глисон
Victoria drew herself up on her toes, bringing her mouth to his neck, and whispered, "I want to know how you know so much about vampires."
Then she let her heels thump to the floor and stepped back, releasing his shoulders as they sagged with discharged tension. His eyes opened fully.
"How you do tempt a man, Victoria," he said lightly. But his expression belied amusement. "The answer to your question is much more involved than I can or will share at this time, but I will tell you this: Like you, I lost someone I loved to the vampires."
"Your wife? A lover?"
"My father."
Chapter 14
In Which Mrs. Withers Has Double the Fun
Victoria's first glimpse of Rome caused an unexpected shiver along the tops of her shoulders. As she looked upon the city of so much history, she felt a sense of foreboding prickle her, as though the sight of the city portended some catalyst of which she was ignorant.
But when the wagon that had brought her and the others from the port of Ostia finally stopped and she alighted, Victoria didn't feel the sensation, nor the trembling of the earth underfoot that she might have expected when stepping into a place that burned with such a sense of prophecy. She merely felt that her consciousness would be overwhelmed by the sounds, the smells, the sights of the streets… of Roma.
Despite the lure of the city, Victoria didn't have much opportunity to enjoy or experience it. Within a day Aunt Eustacia had her settled in a small town house with Oliver and Verbena and a retinue of Italian staff, approximately fifteen minutes from where the Gardella matriarch herself was staying. As in Venice, Victoria and Aunt Eustacia had deemed it prudent to keep their connection under wraps.
Victoria didn't know where Sebastian had gone.
They'd seen each other only at meals after their mock sword battle and tête-à-tête confessions, and he was nowhere to be seen when Victoria and her retinue disembarked from the ship back in Ostia. He had apparently found other means of transportation into the city.
She was content not to see him, for she wasn't sure how to react to his announcement. What did it mean that he'd lost his father to the vampires? That he'd been killed by them? Or, perhaps, turned into a vampire? It was also possible, she supposed, that his father was a member of the Tutela. That could explain why Sebastian knew so much about them.
It made sense. That would account for how he'd gotten involved with Polidori, and how he claimed to know where they would be meeting here in Rome.
He made no contact with Victoria for three days after they arrived in Rome, leaving her to stew and wonder if they'd come here only to be manipulated by Sebastian; but then on that third day, he sent a message that he would call in the afternoon.
She was waiting for him in the parlor. She would have mistaken the tiny room for a broom closet if it hadn't been for the two chairs and small table that made it what the Italians who'd let the town house to her claimed to be a parlor. Whatever it was, it was much too small for her and Sebastian. She felt the room condense as he came in and closed the door behind.
"I presume you've spent the last three days working very hard to establish the clandestine location of the next Tutela meeting, and determining the best way to sneak me in," was how she greeted him. She sat, despite the fact that he remained standing, making the room feel even smaller.
His eyebrows drew together but his words were drier than chalk. "Now, whatever would have made you think that? I had other business to attend to, acquaintances to call upon, an opera to see, and the Trevi Fountain to drop a coin in for a wish. But in regards to the Tutela meeting, yes, indeed, you shall be attending. I hope your calendar is free tonight."
"I had box seats to the opera myself, but I shall forgo them in lieu of going with you to the meeting, of course. Duty before pleasure."
"Not in my book."
Before she could fathom what he was about, he came in toward her and closed his hands over her shoulders, pressing her into the high-backed chair and clamping her in place with his fingers curling over the top. He bent to kiss her, covering her mouth—which had opened to protest in surprise—with his as he slid his knee onto the cushion next to her skirt.
Her face tipped up, the high center of the chair digging into the back of her skull as she welcomed his kiss with lips that parted more to taste him. She felt the bulk of her hair, pinned up behind her head, loosen with every movement of her head as it scrubbed against the wood frame and velvet , upholstery, and the sharp poke of two pins as they dug into her scalp.
A warm, languid feeling coursed through her limbs, and she sighed into his mouth. He tasted as golden and warm as he looked. His knee in the chair next to her had her tipping slightly to the side, leaning against its solid weight, her left hand brushing against the hem of his trousers.
He pulled his mouth from hers and pressed sliding kisses along her jaw toward her ear. He was definitely breathing deeply, and his fingers had closed more tightly over her shoulders, but with one last buss at the corner of her jaw, he stopped. Leveraging himself off the chair, he looked down at her and said, "That is payment in kind for your little display after our swordfight."
She didn't have to ask what he meant; her heart was beating much too hard in her chest, and she felt warm and damp everywhere.
"I'm fully prepared to go to whatever lengths you wish to go, and when you decide to, Victoria. The only thing holding us back from what we both want is you."
She nodded. It was true. And she wasn't even sure why she was holding back. Goodness knows, she wasn't innocent, and she had most certainly enjoyed making love with Phillip. But he was gone, and she had little pleasure available to her in this life.
"Now," Sebastian said, as though the interlude had never happened, "we must talk about the Tutela meeting. There is a gathering tonight that is more of a social event but will include many of the Tutela members. It is not a meeting or ritual, but Conte Regalado, one of the more prominent Tutelas, is hosting it as a way to recruit more followers."
"I'd like to go."
"I was certain you would. They are heavily recruiting, Victoria, and there is almost an edge of hysteria and panic to their need for more. I believe that whatever it is Polidori learned from his interaction with them has something to do with this need for more members. They are preparing for something—probably the activation of Akvan's Obelisk.
"The event tonight is held under the guise of the unveiling of Regalado's latest portrait—he fancies himself an accomplished artist. There will be Tutela members there, and they will be searching for opportunities to lure interested parties to their cause, so a few words dropped here or there will certainly be to your advantage. I believe he will be welcoming visitors as of eight o'clock."
"I'm certain if I ask how you obtained all of this information, you won't tell me."
"You continue to impress me with your intelligence, determination, and needless virtue." He looked at her pointedly for a long moment, causing a warmth to rush over Her bosom and up into her neck and cheeks when she read the blatant message in his eyes: Blast virtue!
"You will attend with me, then?" she asked when she had to tear her eyes away.
"Actually I will not. It would not be prudent for me to be there tonight—Tut, tut! Don't ask why, my dear. A man must have some secrets."
"Some secrets? Sebastian, there is nothing about you that is not secretive."
He raised his brows. "Indeed? And here I thought my desire for you was quite flagrant."
The blush returned with his forthright words. She'd never heard it put aloud, so bluntly and boldly. But she would ignore it. For now. "So I am to attend alone?"
"No, that would be awkward at best. I happen to be acquainted with two young women who are also friends of Conte Regalado's daughter, Sarafina. They will be attending tonight and were more than happy to include you in their party. As Mrs. Withers, of course, the recent widow who seeks solace from the loss of her husband. Along with some distraction, and perhaps a chance
at immortality."
"Two young women?" Victoria looked at him knowingly. "So that explains where you have been for the last three days."
"Does it?" His smile was enigmatic, and to her annoyance, she found herself… well, annoyed.
"Perhaps I might learn more about your many secrets whilst I am in their company this evening," she replied with a teasing smile of her own. "It will be rather interesting."
"Hmm… perhaps I spoke too soon." But he was chuckling, his tiger eyes lit with humor. "Their names are Portiera and Placidia Tarruscelli, and they have agreed to call for you at eight o'clock. It would not do, apparently, to be on time to such an event."
"I see that Society in Rome is no different from back home," Victoria commented. "Very well, then, I shall be prepared for their arrival at eight. Thank you very much, Sebastian, for the assistance you've given us in this."
He took her hand and raised it to his lips for a rather tame kiss, as Sebastian kisses went. "I hope you shall still be grateful when this is all over."
Portiera and Placidia Tarruscelli were dark-eyed, dark-haired beauties with voluptuous figures, and each with a small mole on the side of their luscious pink mouths: Portiera's was at the left of her lips; Placidia's was on the right. They were twins.
Victoria couldn't help but wonder just how well Sebastian knew them.
Everything about them was in duplicate: their gowns (one in garnet and one in mauve), their reticules (one beaded with pearls, the other with jet beads)… even their compliments on Victoria's spring green gown came in rapid succession, with slight variation—one loved the lace around the bodice, the other adored the three layers of ruffles at the hem.
When she sat across from them on the carriage ride to the Regalado villa, Victoria felt as though she were being accosted by two twittering cats—cats didn't twitter, but they did move sinuously and had a certain slumberous look about their eyes. The nonstop commentary and questions, punctuated with giggles and squeals, accounted for the twittering part.
Victoria was fluent in Italian, and the twins in English, so their conversation was easy and multilingual. And exceedingly difficult to keep straight.
While one twin asked a question regarding London, the other was following a train of thought along the lines of fashion, asking different things. And to Victoria's added confusion, they switched back and forth in their prattle, each picking up the other's conversational thread until she was never quite sure to whom she was responding at any given moment.
She was delighted when they finally arrived at the villa.
Inside the spacious home, past the traditional Roman fountains that graced the arching entranceways, Victoria and the Tarruscelli twins were announced and then passed through into the main ballroom.
It was not outfitted for dancing tonight, although a string quartet played unobtrusively in one corner. There were paintings hung on every wall, all, by the looks of them, in the hand of the same mediocre artist. Apparently Sebastian and Victoria shared a similar opinion of Regalado's art.
In the center of one of the short walls of the rectangular room was a small dais where the orchestra would normally play during a ball, but where tonight's highlight was the latest painting by Regalado.
Victoria nearly laughed aloud when she saw it. A portrait it was indeed, of the Tarruscelli twins and their moles flanking a pretty blond girl of the same age and proportions. They were painted to represent the three Fates, each in a flowing Grecian gown that exposed a shoulder here and rather quite a lot of a bosom there. Six nipples pointed through their flimsy garments.
"Do you recognize me?" asked someone next to Victoria, speaking in heavily accented English.
She turned. "You must be Signorina Regalado, the artist's daughter."
"Si, and you must be the inglese friend Portiera and Placidia brought tonight. Emmaline Withers? I am so very pleased to meet you, I could not wait for them to introduce us. I came immediato to discorrere with you."
Victoria glanced about the room to find escape; the last thing she needed this night was to be commandeered by another young and foolish girl. She had work to do. "Grazie for your hospitality, signorina—"
"Oh, favore, I am Sara to you! I am so pleased to practice my inglese with another woman. Men do not know the importante words. Such as lace and ruffles and gloves and flounces and—"
"Where is your father? I should like to congratulate him on such a lovely piece of work," Victoria interrupted before she was treated to an entire list of every fashion term under the sun. "He has made you look so beautiful."
"My amore has said the same thing." Sara beamed and slipped her arm through Victoria's. "I shall introduce you to him later, but first I would like you to meet my father, and also two of your countrymen. They do not wish to speak on fashions with me, so I shall push you in their faces and make them geloso."
When Sara at last located her father, who was standing with a group of three other men at the other side of the room, she nearly towed Victoria over to them. Victoria was not the least bit reluctant to meet the count, of course, for if he were one of the more prominent members of the Tutela, it would behoove her to make friends with him.
"Ahh, Sarafina, who is this lovely beauty you have brought?" he asked, turning from his conversation.
"Padre, this is my new friend, Mrs. Emmaline Withers."
The man, who was short and stocky with scarcely any of what had been dark hair left on his skull—but compensated for it by growing a full, bushy beard and mustache—bowed and took Victoria's hand. He raised it and kissed it with soft wet lips, and looked at her with exceedingly interested dark eyes. Not a surprise; after all, this was a man who painted the nipples of his daughter and her friends. "I am most gratified to make your acquaintance. May I introduce you to some of my companions?"
That was when Victoria turned and saw, for the first time, the very confused, very familiar face of George Starcasset.
Chapter 15
Lady Rockley Receives a Set-down
Victoria looked at George and smiled as though it were nothing out of the ordinary to be introduced by a false name.
To his credit, he did nothing but bow and raise her hand for a brief kiss, but moments later, after all the introductions had been completed and Victoria managed to excuse herself before he said something awkward, he made his own excuse to follow her.
"Perhaps you will permit me to escort you to find something to drink," George said, taking her arm firmly.
When they got out of earshot of the count and his companions, George pulled Victoria off to the side and looked down at her. "I do not know what serendipitous happening has brought us together so soon after my arrival in Italy, but whatever it was, I am most grateful."
"You made no mention of traveling to Italy when we bade farewell," Victoria commented, wondering why he wasn't asking her about her assumed name. Perhaps he was merely being as polite and circumspect as the time he'd found her stalking vampires on the midnight streets of London. Perhaps he was merely an unsuspicious person.
But could there be another reason? While surprised, he did not look as startled as she had been when Regalado had turned to introduce them.
"I had not planned to make my way to Italy at that time, to be sure… but I must confess, I felt it highly regrettable that you had to leave England just as we were becoming better friends." He squeezed her elbow as though to add an extra layer of meaning to the word. "And after some thought, I realized it would be a good time to return to Rome to check up on some business interests I had here. I felt sure that since we were both in the same country I would be able to ascertain how to find you and to pay a call. I had no idea that happenstance would bring us to the same social event only two days after my arrival." His smile was wide and boyish, and with the two deep, curving dimples that framed it, along with the deep cleft in his chin, he looked even more youthful.
"How very fortunate." Her lie was accompanied by a smile that was just as false. She had to find a
way to dislodge George so that she could pump Regalado about the Tutela. And then another uncomfortable thought occurred to her. "How did you happen to come here tonight?"
Surely it wasn't because he was interested in the Tutela. Surely it was a coincidence.
But there had been vampires and Polidori—a Tutela member—at Claythorne. And she wasn't altogether certain that Sebastian wasn't a Tutela member since it was possible that his father was.
Then another just as black thought opened in her mind. Sebastian had said it would be imprudent for him to attend the party at the Regalado villa. Was that because he knew that Starcasset was going to be here? And he didn't want to be recognized for some reason?
"Polidori mentioned to me when we were at supper that night at Claythorne… that night… that if I ever visited Rome, I should be certain to acquaint myself with his friend Conte Regalado. He seemed to believe that the count and I would find each other exceedingly amiable." He squeezed her elbow again. "And I have found it to be true. Regalado and I have much to discuss."
Victoria decided to chance it. "Has he spoken to you of the Tutela?"
"The Tutela? Why… not that I recall. What is that?"
"I am not sure," she replied blandly, casting her glance around the room. "I just happened to hear the word mentioned and was curious." And that was when she saw Max.
"Well, I would be most pleased to ask about it if you don't wish… Lady Rock—Mrs. Withers, is something the matter?"
He—Max—was standing across the room from them as though he'd just walked in, greeting a cluster of people. Just as tall, just as dark-haired and arrogant-looking as he'd been a year ago. He was smiling as he shook their hands.
"No, indeed," she replied to George, only a moment after he'd posed the question and it had sunk in. "Except perhaps that I am a bit thirsty. Would you…?" She allowed her voice to trail off as she slanted him the convenient look that branded her a helpless female.