"Would I die?" She shivered.
Reluctantly he reached for the bed covers, pulling them up to cover her, but he was unable to resist letting his knuckle skim one pink nipple along the way. He pressed his warmth closer to her and slipped his hand beneath the covers. His fingers trailed down her side and over her hip. He let the palm of his hand cup the two sets of wounds he'd made on her in the short time since their marriage.
"Vampires are not immortal, my love -- not the true ones, anyway. But their life spans are longer. They age so slowly that they seem immortal to others."
"I meant would I have to die to become like you...a vampire?"
"No. You will not die and be resurrected as a vampire. That is how the diavol varcolac, the evil undead, are created. If I infect you, it will be more like catching the flu, permanently. Except instead of making you sick, it means you will never be sick. It also means I need never again feel the terror I felt when Lucy had you in her grasp."
"The same terror I knew when that stake entered your heart," she whispered, pressing her hand to the now unblemished skin of his chest.
"Yes." He captured her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips one after the other, then nipping gently at the pulse on the inside of her wrist and breathing in the sweet scent there. "I would know that just as I have come back to you tonight from the very edge of death, so you would always come back to me as well."
Elizabeth was quiet. Beneath the warmth of the covers, she still shook slightly. Fresh tears swam in her eyes and sparkled against her lashes. The image of her face, frozen in terror in that moment on the moss beneath the oak tree when she'd first seen the truth of who he was and known what he was about to do to her, flashed in his mind. Fear gripped his heart. Would she refuse his bite entirely? Not even allow him to heal her? What if she chose, as his mother had, death over what he could offer?
He'd promised himself he'd respect whatever decision she made. But he'd made no vows not to plead his case, not to work hard to influence that decision. His eyes locked with hers, trying to read what was in her heart. Deep emotion clouded their violet depths, but what it was, how she felt, he couldn't tell.
"Please don't leave me, Elizabeth. I love you." He covered her mouth with his.
The tears that had been brimming in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. Their wet warmth dampened his chin. He released her mouth and pushed up on his arms, arching his back.
"Please, Elizabeth."
She drew one of her legs up the length of his until her thigh rested against his hip. Then she raised her arms, tangling her fingers in his hair, drawing him down until his lips hovered just inches above hers. Her eyes held his.
"How could you think I would leave you if there was any way to stay?" she asked, her voice whisper-soft with reproach. "There've been too many good-byes in my life already. I couldn't bear another. I love you, Nicholas Devlin, and I want to spend a lifetime with you."
"A vampire lifetime?"
"Any lifetime."
Chapter Fifty
Encircled by lush green forest and domed by a clear blue sky, the Devlin family graveyard was surprisingly charming. At least by daylight. Centuries old crypts, built half above and half below ground, dotted the close-cropped lawn like storybook houses, each reflecting the architectural preferences of its era. Neatly kept footpaths of white pebblestone wound between them like little roads, creating the impression of a village in miniature -- if one ignored the gravestones scattered here and there along the way.
Elizabeth flinched as the first shovelful of dirt hit the top of the cherub-etched coffin, her mother's coffin. Vlad closed his book and placed a fatherly arm around her shoulders. Elizabeth smiled her gratitude at the old priest, noting the lines of exhaustion fanning out from his eyes and etching his brow. If he'd seemed older than his years when first she'd met him, the last few days had only added to that impression, transforming him from an old man into an ancient one. His beard seemed whiter, the furrows in his face deeper. His movements remained limber and graceful, but somehow they'd become more studied, more somber.
And no wonder. While she and Nicholas had slept yesterday away, Vlad had been putting things to rights.
Word had spread quickly that the runners had solved the case. The murders had been the work of a madwoman, one of the Duke of Marlbourne's house guests. None of the residents of Heaven's Edge had been involved and the murderess had died avoiding capture. Feeling safe again, the servants had returned as quickly as they'd left. Vlad had welcomed them back with open arms and long lists of tasks left undone in their absence.
When Doctor Bergen and Lennie had fetched Leo home from the vicar's house, bringing Margaret and Katie back as well, Vlad had been the one to see to Leo's comfort and care. When Fielding had announced that he and Lennie would be returning to London following the private burial this morning and the duke had insisted they take his best traveling coach -- the one denied the Glenburys -- Vlad had seen to it that Cook packed a generous hamper for their meals and the footmen loaded their baggage with care.
Those were tasks the old priest had done by the light of day.
During the hours of darkness he'd gone with the other men to Maidenstone. They'd gathered the ashes from the funeral pyre and placed them in the cherub-etched coffin. Then they'd come here to the Devlin family cemetery, dug a single grave, and erected eight headstones in a circle around it -- one for each woman whose body burned in the flames.
To avoid gossip, all had been done without the knowledge or help of the servants. Even now, though the duke's large traveling coach and four strong horses stood at the edge of the graveyard ready, the coachman who would drive it to London waited at Maidenstone.
Marlbourne wanted no witnesses.
Perhaps future generations would look at the circle of headstones and wonder who these women had been and why the graves were set in such an unusual arrangement. But they'd have no reason to suspect those named on the headstones were buried, not in a sunburst pattern as the headstones made it appear, but in a single grave at the circle's center.
Elizabeth no longer flinched as shovel after shovel of dirt struck the coffin. Lennie, Fielding, Nicholas, and Sebastian stood inside the circle of headstones, working at a quick yet respectful pace. Leo, still recuperating, sat in a chair nearby. Marlbourne stood beside Leo's chair, his injured arm nestled in a silk sling.
Several yards away the carriage horses stomped and snorted. A pair of their flashy brethren, hitched to the landau that Elizabeth, Nicholas and Marlbourne would return home in, neighed in response. Princess, who'd been left un-tethered, meandered along the side of the road searching for clumps of grass, her little trap rattling behind her.
Out in the forest birds called and leaves whispered. The mid-morning sun poured warmth from the perfect blue sky and the gleaming coffin disappeared beneath the chocolate earth. Gradually the harsh sound of dirt striking oak was replaced by the muted thud of dirt falling on dirt.
Vlad sighed. Princess lifted her head from the grass and looked at her master. Elizabeth looked at him as well. Compassion tugged at her heart. He could not have slept much in the two days since Lucy had been vanquished, not with all the tasks that had demanded his attention. And yet as tired as he must be, he'd delivered a serene and eloquent eulogy for the victims of the diavols -- one of whom had been the sister he'd loved so dearly and killed all those years ago.
Elizabeth put the palm of her hand against the old man's cheek and drew him close, placing a gentle kiss just above the line of his beard.
"Take Princess and go home, Vlad. Rest," she said. "It's over, and everyone," she looked down into the grave that held Lucretia and the women, then at the duke, and finally directly into Vlad's weary eyes, "everyone is forgiven."
Vlad nodded, but made no move to leave.
Together they stood in silence outside the circle of headstones, watching until the last shovel full of dirt had been added to the grave. The men stepped back.
The duke helped Leo stand. All heads bowed. Vlad said a final prayer and then began taking his leave of the departing guests, embracing the doctor in an especially hearty hug. To Elizabeth's surprise, Sebastian returned the embrace without a trace of his usual mockery.
Lennie gathered the shovels and went to tuck them into the boot of the landau. The duke picked up Leo's chair with his good arm and followed Lennie, stopping to scratch Princess's pretty snout as he passed her. Nicholas kissed Elizabeth's temple and his eyes scanned her face as if reassuring himself she was all right. He glanced over at the new grave.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save her, Elizabeth." His voice was tender with regret -- regret that her mother's cancer had been so far advanced, her condition so weakened, that she would not have survived even one healing bite, let alone three. "I wish--"
Elizabeth covered his mouth with her fingertips and rose on her toes to brush her lips to his. Then he and Vlad assisted Leo to the waiting carriage.
Nicholas had been adamant Leo stay and recover completely before attempting the trip to London. But Leo was anxious to see Amanda. He'd stubbornly insisted on returning to the city with the runners. Marlbourne's traveling coach could carry six in easy comfort and Doctor Bergen had announced his intention to accompany Leo home and impose on his hospitality for a while. That had satisfied Nicholas somewhat. Though it hadn't stopped him from treating his friend like an invalid.
Leo batted Nicholas's hand away in good-natured indignation when he tried to steady him across a patch of rough ground. He gave it an even stronger swat when Nicholas would have helped him up the carriage steps and into the vehicle. Once seated in the carriage though, Leo opened the window and Nicholas leaned against the side of the vehicle, the two men talking with the natural ease of lifelong friendship.
Vlad was fussing over Princess's harness, checking and rechecking its comfort. Only Bergen and Fielding remained at the graveside with Elizabeth. They stood in silence staring at the earth mounded at the center of the eight headstones.
Finally satisfied Princess was comfortable, Vlad climbed into the trap and clucked his tongue, turning her onto the road leading out of the cemetery. The little pony trotted smartly past the plain landau horses, but slowed as she came alongside the matched chestnuts standing ready before the traveling carriage. She tossed her blonde mane, flicked her tail, and raised her head higher. All four of the carriage horses turned their heads to watch her prance past. Nicholas and Leo paused in their conversation as well, grinning at the little horse.
Tears of mixed joy and sorrow swam in Elizabeth's eyes, blurring Nicholas's handsome face. She blinked them away and looked out over the clearing crowded with crypts and stone markers. For so long she'd accepted pain and loss and death as her fate. Now life -- a long healthy life -- stretched before her, promising love and happiness, endless opportunity and adventure. A bittersweet peace settled over her heart. She bent to touch the polished granite headstone before her, passing her fingers over the blank surface that would soon bear her mother's name.
"I won't waste it, Mama," she whispered. "I'll love my husband and my children, when they come, as you did yours, with everything that is in me."
Her mother would not lie beside her father and brothers in the London graveyard where they'd been buried. But did it matter where her body lay? Her soul was at peace in the company of those she loved. Elizabeth brushed a tear from her cheek and straightened her back.
"It's over," she said.
"I wish it were." Bergen had been so quiet Elizabeth had forgotten he was there.
She touched his arm, lightly, in sympathy. "Lucretia and Amelia are gone, Sebastian. Both their souls and their bodies free. The demons have been sent where demons belong. What else is there to be done?"
From across the circle of headstones Fielding answered. "As far as we know, all of Lucy's London victims were women. These women." Fielding thrust his chin down at the newly turned soil. "Except one."
"The hackney driver," Elizabeth breathed. Her stomach did a little flip of alarm.
"Yes, the jarvie," Bergen said.
The doctor must have read the look on Elizabeth's face correctly because he took one of her black-gloved hands in both of his. "Detective Fielding, Lennie, and I are off to do a little hunting." He patted her hand and then winked. "Nick is not invited."
"Thank you, Sebastian." She squeezed his hand once before releasing it.
A movement at the edge of the forest where the road from Maidenstone emerged into the cemetery caught Elizabeth's eye. Father Vlad had stopped Princess a few yards short of the trees, yielding the road to Margaret and Katie as they came out of the forest, arms linked.
Katie's head was down. One hand clutched her maid's apron and her shoulders shook as if she were weeping. In contrast Margaret's head was high, her face determined. Dressed for traveling, she clutched an overstuffed carpetbag in one fist. The two women stopped beside the trap and exchanged a few words with the priest. Vlad grinned and looked back to the landau where the duke and Lennie were loading the chair and shovels. Lennie thrust a shovel abruptly into the duke's hand and strode toward the women, the expression on his rough face unreadable. The maids' arms unlinked and they embraced. Katie stepped back. Margaret squared her shoulders and went to meet Lennie. Man and maid halted face to face in front of the carriage.
Margaret slung the carpetbag at the toes of Lennie's boots. She fisted her hands on her hips. "You'll not go off to London without me, Lennie Hodges!"
Her words were bold, her tone angry, but Elizabeth saw both fear and hope in the girl's eyes. Everyone in the graveyard held their breath. Even the birds in the forest stopped their chattering as if waiting. Lennie stared at the bag. Seconds passed. Then his rough face stretched with a lopsided grin. He picked up Margaret's bag and tossed it in the air. It landed with a thunk among the other baggage on the carriage roof.
"You'll stay with my mother and sister until we get the thing done proper," he said.
"Oh, Lennie!" Margaret's face was radiant.
Elizabeth expected the maid to launch herself into the burly runner's arms. But Margaret turned on her heel and ran back to Katie, hugging her instead. The two women dissolved in a storm of tears and incomprehensible babbling. Margaret was leaving Heaven's Edge, giving up her life as a servant to become mistress of her own home, a wife and mother. She would have no reason, and probably no opportunity, to ever return. Perhaps, Elizabeth thought, she could find a reason for Katie to travel to London occasionally.
Detective Fielding had been standing with Bergen and Elizabeth observing this strange scene, his mouth agape. "Lennie has a mother?" he said.
"It appears, gentlemen," Elizabeth said, "that you two may have to hunt the jarvie alone. I think Lennie has found something else to keep him busy."
"Lennie?" Fielding's tone made it clear he thought the notion preposterous. "But he's a runner, through and through."
"Surely even runners have homes and families, wives and children," Elizabeth said.
"Of course some do. But Lennie? With children?" Fielding shuddered.
Margaret left Katie to rejoin Lennie. Vlad took Katie up in the trap and once again headed down the road toward home. With Katie waving teary goodbyes, they disappeared into the cover of the trees.
Fielding covered the short distance to Lennie and Margaret with remarkable speed considering his bulk. Whatever the portly little detective said to the couple made Lennie wince. Margaret's fists returned to her hips. Elizabeth smiled. Detective Fielding might as well surrender now. Getting between a woman -- especially one like Margaret -- and the man she'd set her cap for was dangerous business indeed.
"Lennie with children." Bergen laughed, then sobered again when Elizabeth frowned at him.
She tilted her head toward the carriage where Nicholas and Leo were enjoying the drama playing out between the runners, while wisely not becoming part of it. "Do vampires...?"
"Have children?" Bergen finished for her. "Yes, of cour
se. True vampires do anyway. But not so often or so many as our non-vampire friends."
"And Nicholas and me? Our children...what will they be?" Elizabeth asked.
"They will be what all children are," Bergen said. "A combination of the best and the worst of their parents."
Elizabeth nodded and accepted Bergen's arm, laying her gloved hand lightly on his sleeve. Together they left the grave and walked slowly to the carriage.
"What will you do?" she asked. "Once the jarvie is gone?"
"He'll return to Heaven's Edge, of course," the duke said as they reached the vehicle.
Lennie had finished tying Margaret's bag securely among the others on the carriage roof. He helped her up onto the driver's box, explaining as he did that she would ride there with him the short distance to Maidenstone. There they'd pick up the driver before joining the others inside the carriage for the ride to London. Margaret's eyes were shining.
"You have a home here at Heaven's Edge, Sebastian," Nicholas said. He slipped an arm around Elizabeth's waist.
"Absolutely," Elizabeth agreed, but wondered if they'd ever see the doctor again. After what had happened here -- the final and irrevocable loss of Lucretia's body and with it any hope of resurrecting her soul -- perhaps being at Heaven's Edge, seeing the happiness she and Nicholas simply couldn't hide, was too much to ask of a man who had lost so much.
"Thank you." No hint of the deep sadness in Bergen's eyes was present in his voice. "But I'll be leaving England once that task is complete."
"To return to Romania?" Elizabeth asked.
"No. Too many memories there."
"What will you do then? Where will you go?"
"Anywhere. Everywhere. Does it matter?"
The duke cleared his throat. "If you happen by Egypt you might stop in and check on my daughter," he said. "I'd like to know how Lillian's getting on. The letters she sends come as regular as sunrise, but they tell us nothing of whether she's happy with the choice she made."
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