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The King's Vampire

Page 13

by Brenda Stinnett


  His heat seemed to flow through her limbs, and it was a white-hot, passionate heat. Their blood pulsed together. His warm, velvety lips pressed against hers, while his tongue flicked into the depths of her mouth, evoking feelings she’d never experienced before.

  Holding up her arms against his broad shoulders for support, she locked her legs around him once more. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, and they both shuddered to a climax at the same time, their union total and complete. He gave a deep groan, and then they locked into a kiss that seemed to halt time.

  Finally, she released him and he pulled out of her. He rolled over on his back. Nothing could be heard but their heavy breathing for a few more minutes. Then he sat up. “Are you all right?”

  In a shaky voice, she answered, “I don’t think I’ve ever been better.” With her extraordinary hearing, she heard their hearts beating in exquisite unison.

  “I’m so very glad, my love.” He lifted her up in his arms, and then helped her sort out her clothes, before tossing on his own. “I’ve got to get you home before Julian returns and daybreak comes.”

  She ached to tell him how much she loved him, but she didn’t quite dare. After all, he was a demon slayer, and she was still an immortal vampire. She couldn’t bring him down to her level, no matter how she felt about him.

  Outside, his carriage waited. It seemed to fly along the rain-slicked cobbled streets. Saffron yellow light began to touch the edges of the sky. He wrapped her in his cloak to protect her from the early rays of the sun. When they reached the secret passageway along the river just below her apartments, he took her in his arms and kissed her. “Be careful, darling. Don’t let anyone discover you’re a vampire. I’ve been invited to the queen’s entertainment, so I’ll see you tonight.”

  “I promise I’ll be careful.” Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her lips and threw Darius a kiss when he walked away. Taking comfort in the memory of their passionate lovemaking, she headed back to her apartments.

  Chapter 16

  At eight o’clock that evening, the guests gathered in the queen’s main drawing room. Elizabeth had already been announced, but she glanced around the room, impatient for Darius to arrive. The king requested Nell Gwynn to sing and dance for them. Elizabeth sat in stunned amazement by the sound of Nell’s sweet voice and her graceful movements. She performed for the royal court without the slightest appearance of self-consciousness.

  In spite of her simple green damask gown with childish ribbons at the neck and waist, and her full-figured body of a country wench, King Charles seemed enchanted by Nell’s pure, clear voice as she sang simple, bawdy songs of the street. She finished by whirling and twisting her body into several graceful positions, and when she at last stopped, she made a curtsy so deep her head touched her knee. The entire court broke into enthusiastic applause, all except Countess Castlemaine, who made a production of being bored by yawning and fluttering her fan, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling.

  Castlemaine spoke loudly to the king’s French mistress, Louise Keroualle. “Have you ever seen anyone as common as Nell Gwynn? She has the grace of a fat cow.”

  The king and the rest of those who had heard Barbara’s comment glowered at her.

  Louise answered with her feminine French accent, “You are quite mistaken, Madam. Nell has more grace and talent in her little finger than you could ever demonstrate in your entire body. It’s a pity having bastard children isn’t considered a talent, because that is the only way you might be considered a success.”

  Everyone in hearing distance laughed. “You slut, I ought to—”

  Louise lifted her chin. “What do you think you can do to me?”

  Barbara stormed off without answering.

  Music played in every room, while gaming tables were piled high with gold coins. The finest ladies and gentlemen wandered through the queen’s apartments, laughing and gossiping, drifting from room to room. King Charles spotted Elizabeth, and expertly maneuvered her into an empty bedroom.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, the king wrapped his arms around her. She slipped out of his arms just as quickly. “Nell has a beautiful voice, and she dances with such grace.”

  His black eyes grew wistful. “My Nelly is incredibly talented, and she has the voice of an angel. It’s a shame the way she grew up on the streets and has had to support her drunken mother and sister all her life.”

  Fluttering her fan, she stepped back. “If I may be so bold, it sounds like His Majesty is quite fond of her. Can’t you take care of her?”

  He shrugged. “I do what I can but I’m Charles Stuart, that poverty stricken king who’s just hanging on to his kingdom by the skin of his teeth. Parliament has me on such a tight budget, I can scarce afford to buy myself new hosiery, let alone spend money on all of my mistresses.”

  “Surely, you jest, your Majesty. Your subjects love you, and you live in a state of great wealth, if you’ll pardon my mentioning it.”

  He looked off in the distance. “Most of my friends are only after what they can get to further their own political aims, very few care for me at all. Nelly is probably one of the rare ones who actually love me for myself.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes softened. “You sound so sad, Charles.”

  “Sad? I don’t think I’m sad, just realistic. Being a king is a lonely position, but I don’t feel alone when I’m with you.” He drew her near again.

  “I think you give me too much credit.” She put her hands to his chest and gently pushed him away.

  “Do I?” His deep warm voice was a caress in itself, and it seemed he drew closer again without even moving.

  She fought the urge to increase the distance between them. He seemed so lonely, and so desperately in need of a friend, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away entirely. Even though he was a king, she longed to comfort him, to tell him things would be all right. “You have so many women who love you. I know for a fact the queen adores you.”

  A moody look crossed his face. “My poor Catherine has suffered so much because of me. I haven’t been the husband I should have been. It has broken her heart she’s been unable to give me a legitimate heir. I seem to produce children everywhere but where it matters most.”

  Elizabeth squirmed, embarrassed to be involved in such an intimate conversation with the king, and yet, he had such a self-deprecating charm, it was impossible not to be vitally interested in everything he had to say. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Sire.” The more she talked with him, the easier it was to forget she was actually speaking to a king.

  “Don’t pay any attention to me. Sometimes I get a mild case of self-pity, but it doesn’t last long. I should pity my poor people more than myself. They’ve suffered from the Great Plague, the Great Fire, and the Dutch’s attack on us while our fleet was put up for the winter. Sometimes I think they’ve been punished for my sins.” He led her to a window where the moonlight reflected the shadow of swans nestling close to shore.

  “I don’t think that’s the case, Sire. I don’t believe God works that way.”

  “How do you suppose he works? Can you tell me?” He turned her to face him, took her hands in his, leaning forward in an effort to kiss her.

  Thinking of her own lost soul, Elizabeth turned her head. “I wish I knew, Sire, I do wish I knew.”

  “Please don’t look away.” He put his forefinger beneath her chin and turned her toward him again. “You are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Your hair is like autumn leaves, and your skin glows like alabaster in the moonlight.”

  “Your Majesty is too kind.”

  “You remind me so much of Barbara before she grew bitter and jaded. It’s almost like you’ve turned back time to the moment of my Restoration.” His fingertips stroked the side of her face. “I want that moment back, Barbara.”

  “I’m Elizabeth, remember?”

  “Forgive me, my dear, of course I know that.”

  She noticed the sensual fullness of his lower lip and the dimple in h
is chin before she moved away from him. “Please, Charles, don’t ask something of me I’m unable to give. I’m less than a whole person myself.”

  “If you’re not a whole person, then I don’t know who indeed is.” He pulled her close once more and tried to kiss her lips.

  Suddenly, Castlemaine burst into the room. “Charles, what are you doing in here all alone? How could you have let Louise humiliate me in front of everyone?” She whirled around and spotted Elizabeth standing near him in the shadows. “So you’re not alone. Why is this upstart slut trying to look like me? The common should never try to imitate the quality.”

  He released Elizabeth’s arm and spoke swiftly, “Barbara, I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head when you’re talking to the Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull. She’s hardly a commoner. And how many times have I told you it’s over between us? How dare you come bursting in here without being announced?”

  Castlemaine’s face turned pale, and her hand flew to her throat. “You’d deny me, the mother of your children, the right to see you?”

  “Well, perhaps some of those children are mine, but certainly not all of them.”

  “How dare you say such a thing to me?” She pressed her hand to her heart, looking as though she might faint.

  Elizabeth faced them both and curtsied, hoping to maintain some dignity in the midst of such a scene. “I see that you and the Countess of Castlemaine have much to discuss, so I’ll leave you alone.”

  “What a cunning gypsy you are,” Barbara said. With eyes narrowing, she turned toward Elizabeth. “You mince and pretend to an exaggerated daintiness, just as any harlot does to impress the king, but I know your kind.”

  “I’ve had enough of your foul tongue, Barbara. Another word from you and you’ll be sent away from court.” Charles reached out to Elizabeth with an outstretched hand. “Please don’t leave me.” He drew her hand to his lips.

  Barbara said, “Pray forgive me, my lady, but we mustn’t keep you if you have more important places to go.” She tilted back her head and gave a laugh that bubbled up from her chest with complete abandon and lack of concern for others. Her moods were frighteningly mercurial, switching from near tears to laughter in an instant.

  “Your Majesty, I really must go,” Elizabeth said. Unwilling to listen to any more of Barbara Palmer’s shrewish quarrel with the king, she streaked out of the room.

  Once she left the king, Elizabeth ran straight into her husband, Sir Michael Horbury. He caught her by the arms. “Where are you going in such a rush?”

  “Apparently from the frying pan into the fire,” she muttered. She jerked her arm away. “Michael, let me go. I must leave.”

  “It’s only ten o’clock and the supper has just started. Come with me and we’ll have a bite to eat.”

  “What are you talking about? You know we can’t eat.”

  “We must make the gesture, mustn’t we? It’s all about appearances, isn’t it?” he said. “We must pretend to the human niceties to keep suspicion away from us. We’ll fill our plates and then take them out to the balcony and dump them. What do you think our king would think if he discovered his new lady love is a vampire?”

  She paused for a moment, and then followed him slowly to the buffet table. In a soft voice, she asked, “Are you trying to threaten me?”

  He handed her a plate full of food. He took her by the elbow and led her onto the balcony. “I don’t make threats. I’m simply suggesting it’s important for those like us to pretend to a kind of normalcy. Wouldn’t you think that wise?”

  Elizabeth gave a jerky nod. She allowed him to lead her outside where moonlight streamed down onto the balcony. She wished she could run away and hide. Anything, rather than facing Michael like this.

  After he took both their plates and dumped them off the railing, he laughingly watched some swans fighting over the food. He put the empty plates onto the windowsill. “Come now, Elizabeth, there’s no need to look so tragic.” He stroked her cheek.

  She brushed his hand away. “What do you want with me? Why have you come all this way to find and torment me?”

  “You’re my wife, darling. Why wouldn’t I go to the ends of the earth looking for you?”

  “Michael, it’s me, remember? You never cared about me before you became a vampire. All you were interested in then was chasing other women.”

  With a deep, baritone laugh, he said, “You misunderstood my motives. That was all youthful foolishness. Those women were diversions. I’ve always loved only you. Why would I have made you a vampire if I hadn’t loved you?”

  “That’s a question I’ve asked myself every single day. Now, I ask you again, why have you tracked me down?”

  For the first time, Michael’s expression turned serious. He wore a pearl gray velvet suit with an immaculate white ruffled shirt, and his cravat was folded to perfection. He wore his shoulder length blond hair clubbed and pulled back. His milky face glistened with passion. “I’m a predator who hunts alone, and I grow tired of it. You are my mate, and I want you back. Have you yet had your first human kill?”

  Elizabeth winced and shook her head back and forth. “I will never drink the blood of a human being. Didn’t you tell me after you turned me I had one hundred years to change back into a human? Please tell me how it’s done.”

  “It’s not what you think. You’re missing the greatest experience of what it means to be a vampire. We can kill, and we can resurrect. What greater power has God himself?”

  She backed away. “Beware of your blasphemy, Michael. You’ve wasted your time to have come looking for me, because I’ll never be part of your life again.”

  “I rather gathered that when I saw to what great social heights you’ve climbed. That’s what got me to thinking.”

  “Thinking about what?” she asked sharply.

  “I relish the thought of being involved with royalty and being a part of the ruling class, rather than mindlessly killing and controlling individuals who have no effect on the world.”

  “Leave the king alone, Michael. This isn’t some game to be played.”

  “If you’re not willing to help me, then I can’t help you become human once again.”

  Darius suddenly appeared on the balcony beside them. Elizabeth knew it must be her imagination, but once he arrived, the stars in the sky seemed brighter and the moon gleamed down just a little bit stronger. Every star seemed to be in exactly the right place in the sky now. She broke into a smile at the sight of him.

  “My dearest, Elizabeth, I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Apparently, not hard enough,” Michael said, and he snatched Elizabeth’s hand.

  She wrestled her hand away, and stepped nearer to Darius. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  He bowed that leonine head of his. “Please forgive me for being so late. Would you honor me with a dance?” His eyes barely touched on Michael.

  Longing to run her fingers through his satiny, black hair, she wanted to say she’d rather honor him with her life, but instead she replied, “I’d love to.”

  Before she stepped into the drawing room, Michael grasped her by the wrist and pulled her away from Darius. He whispered, “I warn you, Elizabeth, if you don’t promise to come back to Prague with me, I’ll tell the king you’re a vampire.”

  Darius stepped between them. Red sparks emanated from his body. “I suggest you unhand the lady unless you want to answer to me.”

  Michael released her. “Take care, Elizabeth.”

  “Do whatever you must, Michael, but I’ll never go back with you, and I’ll never be your wife again. Our marriage was forfeit once you betrayed me and turned me into a vampire when I was most vulnerable. Our daughter, my sister, and our parents had just died in that horrible fire. I felt like you cursed us all because of what you’d done. Get out of my life, and stay out.”

  “It was my daughter, too. Don’t you think I’ve suffered as well? I hated what happened to your parents, but it wasn’t my fault. I had no
choice but to—”

  “Nothing has ever been your fault, has it?” She allowed Darius to lead her through the drawing room doors, but she paused at the doorway.

  Michael said between clenched teeth, “This isn’t over.”

  Elizabeth turned back to him. “It rarely is.”

  Darius put one arm around her waist and held her hand in his and he led her into the ballroom. When they danced, she felt him guide her with a precision and control that seemed delicately insistent, while the music sounded louder and faster to her ears. Her feet moved rapidly in order to keep up with his forceful pace.

  Her heart pounded, and she felt in some real danger of being overtaken by him, and knocked down in front of all these people of the court. He seemed so strong and insistent, and so confident in his ability to control her, she let out a sigh of relief when the music stopped and nothing unseemly had happened.

  She noticed the crowd had thinned, and even the king and queen had left. Darius leaned over and whispered in her ear, “It looks like the party is nearly over. May I escort you to your apartments?”

  She glanced around the room. “I don’t know. What if the king finds out?”

  He gave her a smile that quirked downward. “The king left with Nelly Gwynn quite some time ago. It’s not likely he’ll be bothering you for a while. Does he?”

  “What?”

  “Does he bother you?”

  She found the question oddly disturbing. “Come, let’s go.” She led him to her apartments.

  When they entered her bedroom, she still felt modest before him, even though he’d already explored every inch of her body. She ducked behind a screen, with just her head and shoulders showing. She changed into a dressing gown.

 

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