Blood Marriage

by Regina Richards

  When he finished, he rose to his feet, pulling her up with him, steadying her against his body, allowing her skirt to settle back into place. Tears were streaming down a face pale with shock and blood loss.

  "Why?" Her voice was barely a whisper and yet the deep sense of betrayal laced through it seemed to thunder in his ears.

  He wanted to hold her close, comfort her, explain why he'd done this and would do it again soon. One final time. But the memory of his mother's refusal and death kept him silent. Explanations would wait a few more days, until he had ensured her survival.

  Avoiding the look in those violet eyes, he held her still with one arm around her waist and carefully peeled back the blood-soaked cotton wadding. Underneath, the wound had stopped bleeding. Clots were forming around the stitches Bergen had used to try and close the wounds.

  "Wait here. I'll get the horse."

  He was untying the animal from its tree when she bolted for the forest. She made it no more than a few steps into the thick underbrush before he caught her, pulling her backwards. Her soft bottom pressed snug against his thighs as his arms hugged her under firm breasts, holding her arms pinned to her sides. Desire as strong as the blood lust had been moments ago sung through his veins. What was wrong with him? She was hurt, terrified, confused, crying and he was envisioning making love to her on that same mossy patch of ground where he had just assaulted her. Self-contempt made his words harsher than he intended.

  "You can't escape me, Elizabeth." He turned her around and brushed his knuckles across her wet cheeks, wiping away her tears. She tensed, cringing beneath his touch.

  "Things will seem better in the morning." It was all he could offer. He picked her up and carried her to the trap. She didn't protest. It was as if all the fight had suddenly gone out of her. Perhaps she'd realized, weak as she was, there was no chance of escape and nowhere to go if she did.

  He held her in his lap, one arm about her, one holding the reins of the mild-mannered pony pulling the trap. She didn't relax into him, but she tolerated his touch, burying her face in his neck. Not once on the ride back to Heaven's Edge did she look at or speak to him. His guilt kept him silent as well. But the trembling in her body and the tears that warmed his neck and dampened his shirt spoke volumes. She wept as if she'd lost something precious, forever. Nicholas feared they both had.

  When they reached the stables, she stood still and passive while he unhitched Princess. The paleness was gone. It was working. Beneath the tears glistening on her cheeks, her skin glowed, robust and healthy. But her eyes were lifeless. Nicholas wished she would curse him, scream at him, strike him, even try to run from him again -- something to prove he hadn't killed her spirit while saving her body.

  After seeing to the pony and trap, he picked her up. Cradling her in his arms, he carried her through the kitchens, up the stairs and to their room. He sat her on the edge of the bed. She ripped his jacket from her shoulders and threw it. Like an omen of things to come, it sailed across the room and landed before the connecting door to the blue room, the one he'd occupied before their wedding.

  Before leaving to rob Grubner's grave, he'd laid a fire in that room and filled a tub. The water would be ice cold. That hadn't seemed important when it had only been he who would use it for the cleansing required following the burning of a body. But after everything else she'd been through tonight, after what he'd just done to her, how could he force her out of her clothes and into a bath of icy water? Would she fight? Wake the house with her screams? Ever forgive him?

  "And now?" she asked.

  "A bath," he said, removing her shoes.

  "Bath?" she said the word with a little cry in her voice. Hope. "Where?"

  "It's ice cold, but--."

  "Where?"

  "The blue room."

  Elizabeth was off the bed and moving across the room before he finished the sentence, clawing at her clothes as she went and making sounds of frustration when her fingers became confused over the buttons. He caught her in front of the fireplace in his old room, brushed her hands aside and undressed her himself. As soon as the last garment hit the floor, she stepped into the water and sunk down past her shoulders.

  "Soap?" The desperation in her voice alarmed Nicholas, but he handed her the soap and a cloth. She used them to scrub feverishly at her own skin as if trying to wash away what had happened. When she buffed viciously at the wounds on her arm, nearly tearing the flesh away, Nicholas snatched the soap and cloth from her hand.

  "Please!" Elizabeth lunged for them, her eyes wild.

  "I'll do it." He held them out of her reach.

  "No!"

  "I'll do it. Or I'll take you out of the bath right now." It was an odd threat. Denying her the chilly water seemed more kindness than punishment, but it worked. She stopped trying to retrieve the soap and cloth and allowed him to wash her from head to toe. He worked as quickly and gently as he could. When he asked her to wet her hair, she dunked herself willingly, but by the time he finished washing it, her lips were blue and she was shaking in an alarming manner. He helped her from the water and toweled her dry, then wrapped her in a blanket and sat her as close to the fireplace as he dared. He added several logs to the glowing coals and was pleased when the fire roared to life.

  Elizabeth stared into the flames. Nicholas stripped and took a turn in the tub, leaving the water an ugly brown when he emerged. He dried himself, then scooped up Elizabeth and carried her to their bed.

  When he climbed in next to her, her arms didn't come around him as they had each night since their marriage. There was no welcome in the way her body touched his. But neither did she pull away from his embrace or the warmth his body, though he could sense the tension in her, as if she waited to see what would happen next.

  "Go to sleep, Elizabeth. Tomorrow will be better," he lied.

  Tomorrow they would bury her mother and face the runners.

  "Sleep, mea amor. The nightmare is over. You have nothing to fear now."

  Gradually her stiffness yielded to exhaustion. When her even breathing told him she slept, he allowed himself to pull her closer and breathe in her soft sweet scent. But it was a long time before he slept.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Horses whinnied and harnesses jingled. Late afternoon sun gleamed on the polished ducal crests of the two carriages standing ready on the gravel drive. Nicholas stood at the top of the porch steps watching Jimmy secure the last of the baggage to the roof of the smaller carriage. He tried to ignore the runner leaning against the house a few paces away.

  Beside Nicholas, Elizabeth was as still and quiet as a statue, her face pale beneath her black funeral hat, her gaze fixed on the distant tower of Maidenstone visible just above the forest canopy. All day she'd been shunning him, refusing to look at him, avoiding speaking to him. Not that any true conversation would have been possible with Fielding's watchdogs in constant attendance.

  They'd been awakened at dawn by a curt woman who'd announced she was Alice, Lady Devlin's new maid. Katie, though physically fine, had been sent home to the village to recover from her frightening ordeal. Nicholas knew enough about Katie's home to know sending her away had been Fielding's idea. There were ordinary folk in the world just as frightening as vampires and considerably less merciful. Katie's father was one.

  But Fielding hadn't believed Katie's story of fleeing from an evil phantom that floated in through Amelia's window. He'd believed the girl had invented a fantastic tale to protect her employers and her job. The detective had decided Katie could no longer be trusted to keep an eye on Elizabeth and had replaced her with his own agent. And for now there was nothing Nicholas could do about it, other than what he'd already done -- send a note to the village vicar with sufficient funds to allow Katie to find somewhere else to stay.

  Jimmy yanked a final rope taut across the baggage and knotted it in place. Then he tugged his cap in Nicholas's direction.

  Nicholas nodded his approval to the boy. The baggage was expertly arranged
and tied down. Too bad the lad hadn't mastered carriage driving as well as he had his other duties. Still, the accident following Grubner's wake hadn't been entirely the boy's fault. He deserved another chance and, with most of the stable help gone, Nicholas had little choice but to give it to him.

  Jimmy would drive the smaller of the two carriages, the one which had been harnessed to the more docile of the carriage horses. Nicholas was trusting a man from the village, a former stagecoach driver, to handle the faster, more elegant vehicle and the spirited team of bays that pulled it. That man sat in the driver's seat, reins already in hand. His eyes scanned nervously from side to side. Like all the villagers, he knew about the happenings at Heaven's Edge. He seemed eager to be gone.

  As if agreeing with their driver, the bays stamped and pawed, straining at the traces. The runner who'd been leaning against the house moved to their heads, calming them with the sure hands and honeyed tones of an experienced horseman.

  "Elizabeth." Nicholas reached out and brushed a tendril of dark hair from her cheek. She closed her eyes as his fingers skimmed across her skin, a lover's caress.

  "Trust me, Elizabeth. Trust me, just a little longer."

  Her violet eyes drifted over his face, examining him as if he were a stranger. "Have you trusted me?" she asked softly.

  Their conversation hadn't gone unnoticed by the runner. He left the horses and moved close to Elizabeth. Too close. The opportunity to speak privately was lost. Nicholas wanted to knock the man down the steps.

  Behind them the front door opened and Leo, Amanda and Mrs. Blakely came out of the house. The ladies had changed from mourning clothes into more practical traveling dresses in appropriately somber colors.

  "Thank you so much for, for..." Mrs. Blakely's face turned a bright red.

  Nicholas took pity on the woman. How did one take proper leave of a host who was suspected of having attacked and killed several people during your stay?

  "You are always welcome in our home, Mrs. Blakely," he said, and bowed over the lady's hand.

  Mrs. Blakely gave him a grateful smile. She embraced Elizabeth before taking Leo's arm and allowing him to escort her down the steps to the first of the two carriages.

  "I wish you would come with us, Leo dear. It isn't safe here," Mrs. Blakely whispered once she believed she was too far away to be overheard.

  Silently Nicholas agreed with her. He should send his friend home with his bride. But since the attack on Margaret, Leo had been keeping watch on Randall, freeing Nicholas to stalk a more dangerous predator. Not that he'd been terribly successful so far. Both Randall and the diavol had escaped his oversight more than once. Death had been the result. An echo of the overwhelming panic he'd felt at Grubner's wake when he'd realized Randall and the diavol had slipped away made his jaw clench. He'd believed Elizabeth and her mother would be safe with Katie, as long as he was with the killer. He'd been wrong and Amelia Smith was dead.

  Elizabeth and Amanda followed Leo and Mrs. Blakely down the steps, stopping a short distance from the carriage. A breeze tugged at Elizabeth's hat causing the black veil she'd worn to the funeral to slide off the brim and cover her face. Amanda reached up and pushed it back, then pressed her cheek against Elizabeth's cheek. Elizabeth made a short mewing sob and opened her arms to Amanda. She hugged the petite blonde as if she believed she might never see her again. Nicholas's gut ached.

  "I still think I should stay." Amanda cast a worried look over her shoulder at her husband.

  Leo scowled and shook his head at her. He handed his mother-in-law into the waiting carriage. When Mrs. Blakely was settled, he extended his hand to Amanda. She ignored it.

  "Well then," Amanda said brightly, "Elizabeth should come with Mother and me. If it isn't safe for the rest of the ladies, it isn't safe for her either." Amanda clasped both of Elizabeth's hands in hers. Her voice turned coaxing. "Please, Elizabeth. It would take only minutes to put some things in a bag. We could have a lovely visit in London while we wait for the men to sort things out here."

  "Elizabeth must stay with me," Nicholas said. He followed the runner down the stairs and planted himself between his wife and the nosy bastard.

  Amanda pushed her glasses up her small nose with one finger, her expression mutinous. "Well, I don't see why she can't--"

  "Get in the carriage, Amanda," Leo said.

  "Yes. Please, dear," Mrs. Blakely said from inside the carriage.

  Amanda shook her head, a stubborn frown knitting her brow. "I've changed my mind. I'm staying with Eliz-."

  Leo's hand lightly swatted his wife's backside.

  "Ouch!" she exclaimed. Though she couldn't possibly have been hurt by such a playful tap.

  "Get in the carriage, Amanda," Leo repeated.

  Amanda cocked her head to one side and arched a blonde brow at her husband, but she put her hand in his. She paused halfway up the steps, rubbed her other hand against the bottom he'd just swatted and leaned in to speak close to his ear, a seductive purr in her voice.

  "Now, I definitely want to stay." She reached out to scratch behind his ear and winked. Leo's ears turned pink.

  "Amanda!" Mrs. Blakely's head appeared in the carriage window.

  Leo closed the door behind his wife and raised a hand to the driver. Mrs. Blakely sat back. As the horses sprang forward, Amanda's head and most of her upper body popped out the window. Even over the sounds of hooves and wheels on gravel, Nicholas could hear Mrs. Blakely scolding her daughter. But Amanda continued to hang perilously out the window as the vehicle rolled down the drive, waving to Elizabeth and blowing shamelessly enthusiastic kisses to Leo.

  Elizabeth stepped away from the men and waved back. Her runner shadow followed.

  "Thank you, Nick," Leo said.

  "For what?"

  "For Amanda. For not marrying her yourself." Leo waved back to his wife, nearly matching her enthusiasm.

  "You didn't leave me much choice, Leo. But I'm guessing that was intentional. It wasn't an accident Amanda ended up with you in Mrs. Huntington's gazebo, was it?"

  Leo laughed. "All's fair, Nick."

  The carriage was almost out of sight. Elizabeth and the men returned to the porch to watch it disappear into the forest. A commotion behind them made them turn as one.

  Countess Glenbury, dressed in a gown of broad red and white stripes and wearing one of the most ridiculous hats Nicholas had ever seen, marched out of the house. A sullen-looking Harriet trailed behind her. Like her mother, she'd exchanged the funeral black she'd worn earlier that morning. She now wore a garish dress of mustard orange with cream filigree trim. It clashed alarmingly with her red hair. Nicholas wondered what the girl could have said or done to her dressmaker to cause the woman to consistently attire her in such an unflattering manner.

  "Why couldn't we leave this morning?" Harriet complained as she tromped down the steps to the second carriage. "We'll never make London before nightfall. We'll have to stay at a common inn."

  "Behave, Harriet," the countess said. She nodded to Elizabeth and the long feathers on her hat tapped the top of Elizabeth's head. "Lady Devlin, once again allow me to express my sincere sympathies for your loss." She didn't wait for Elizabeth to respond before extending her hand to Nicholas. "Thank you, your lordship, for a most entertaining visit."

  Nicholas didn't respond. Only a scandalmonger like Countess Glenbury would find a week of violence and murder entertaining. Eager to be rid of the woman, he helped her into the carriage and then turned to assist Harriet in as well. He was so startled when the girl squeezed his hand and peeped seductively up at him through her lashes, that he released her abruptly and slammed the door closed harder than was polite. He resisted the urge to wipe his hand against his coat.

  He signaled Jimmy. The carriage lurched unevenly forward, producing muffled squeals from the ladies inside. It lumbered and jerked down the drive, twice running off the gravel, and miraculously managing to find the one pothole on the road.

  Nicholas smiled. Even Jimmy
couldn't possibly drive so badly. The young lad would have a long and successful career at Heaven's Edge.

  "Thank you, Nick," Leo said under his breath.

  "What for this time?"

  "For the second carriage," Leo said. "For sparing my ladies the horror of a ride to London with the Glenburys. And for Jimmy." Leo chuckled and went back into the house.

  Elizabeth and her runner shadow followed Leo. Nicholas caught his wife by the elbow just inside the entry hall. He escorted her to the parlor, gently pushing her into the room ahead of him and slamming the door firmly in the runner's face.

  Earlier he'd asked Vlad to have a tray of tea and sandwiches waiting. He led Elizabeth to a sofa in front of the tea table and sat down beside her. What he could say to heal what had happened last night, he didn't know. But he could no longer bear her quiet pain. He poured tea and pressed a cup and saucer into her hand.

  "Elizabeth, I--"

  The parlor door opened. Lennie followed Detective Fielding into the room. The burly runner closed the door decisively and took a wide-legged stance in front of it. Without invitation, Detective Fielding seated himself on a chair opposite the sofa and began helping himself to tea.

  "What do you think, Lord Devlin? Will we find another body today?" the detective asked.

  Elizabeth's teacup rattled on its saucer. Nicholas steadied her hand, removing the cup and saucer and setting them on small table beside the sofa. Her hands twisted in her lap. He covered them with one of his own.