by Brooklyn Ann
“Very likely,” Gavin agreed mildly. “But what some can get away with and what you and I can are different things altogether. I do not kowtow to the Elders, so I may miss some of their indulgences, but I am also not indebted to them for any favors and they leave me alone.” Gavin sneered, his irritation with the world’s most powerful vampires apparent.
Justus closed his eyes as hopelessness threatened to drown him. “I love her.” Why could that not be enough?
A warm, solid hand grasped his shoulder. Justus opened his eyes to see Gavin looking at him with pity. “I may have a solution,” he said quietly.
Hope flared within Justus’s chest. “What?”
“A long engagement.” Gavin released him and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “Secure a betrothal contract with her father, and then leave Rochester until Miss Mead’s twenty-first birthday. We can fabricate a story of you having business in India and arrange for you to stay with another Lord Vampire.”
The thought of being away from Bethany for four long years filled Justus with agony. But the thought of never being able to make her his was even more unbearable. Gripping the arms of his chair with painful force, he bowed his head in assent. “Thank you, my lord.” He tried to conceal his bitterness in his words.
“Cheer up, old friend,” Gavin said with a smirk. “You’ve lived in this world for over two centuries. What is a handful of years?”
The Lord of Rochester spoke truly, but it wasn’t so much the span of time that would be the most difficult to endure. “What if something happens to her while I’m away? What if her parents decide to break the betrothal, or she falls from her horse, or another plague strikes the village?”
Gavin shook his head and laughed. “What if lightning strikes us in the next five minutes? What if corn stalks sprout from your ears? Honestly, if this is what love does to a man, I pray I never succumb to such a ludicrous malady. You sound like an old woman.” His mirth faded as Justus glared at him. “Do not worry. Medicine is advancing faster every day, and the nobility are always the safest from plagues. Furthermore, I’ll keep an eye on the girl and make sure her father does not presume to change his mind.” He paused and cocked his head to the side. “But what if Miss Mead decides she wants another?”
Justus flinched at the thought of losing Bethany’s love. But her happiness was the most important thing to him. “If she does, send word to me and I will release her from the betrothal contract.”
The Lord of Rochester regarded him with an unexpectedly gentle smile. “You have a good heart, Justus. Guard it well, for mortals can be fickle, especially young ones.” He slid Justus’s wineglass closer before lifting his own. “In the meantime, let us toast your future bride.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Justus drank deeply, joy swelling his being that he was granted his heart’s desire.
Chapter Eleven
Bethany awoke with a blissful sigh. Justus had been kissing her in her dreams, just as fervently as he had last night.
Last night… the memories struck her with such force that she sat up so fast her head spun with a wave of dizziness.
Justus was a vampire. With daylight streaming through her window, the concept should have been laughable, but last night, with the moonlight gleaming on his fangs, his eyes glowing in the darkness, and the mind-bending sensation of his bite, the truth had been all too real.
And Bethany had agreed to become one as well, to live forever, to bite people and drink their blood. She’d also agreed to become his wife. Warmth suffused her heart as she remembered his ardent declaration of love.
Tonight he’d ask her father for her hand in marriage. Breath hitching in excitement, Bethany threw off her covers and rang for the maid to bring her breakfast and select a fetching ensemble.
It was difficult to eat with her belly fluttering, but Bethany managed to eat half a scone and a bit of egg before she had her maid help her into her riding habit. A ride would help pass the time and calm her flitting nerves.
For the evening, she chose her white satin gown, for it was what she was wearing the night of the Ellingsworth ball the night she and Justus shared their first dance.
Humming a soft tune, Bethany barely heard her mother’s chattering as she left for the stables. Once saddled on Canterbury, her russet gelding, she pondered what her life would be like as a vampire. No more morning rides, that was certain, so she had best enjoy them while she still had time.
She was also insatiably curious as to what her future home was like. Bethany had heard that Lord de Wynter’s estate was a half mile from her own, adjacent to the Ellingsworths’ lands. Digging her heel in Canterbury’s flanks, she urged the gelding into a run in that direction. The wind whipped through her hair, though not as fiercely as it had last night in Justus’s arms. That meant that a vampire was faster than a horse.
Bethany remained in awe over that fact until she reached a ramshackle manor house that was indeed between the Ellingsworths’ and the Chattertons’ properties. The de Wynter crest was cast in the rusted iron gate, though it was so pitted that it was nearly unrecognizable. Grass grew at least waist high in the lawn and the gravel drive was choked with weeds.
A shutter hinge creaked in the wind as it hung from one pitiful nail. The red bricks were faded and crumbling on the Jacobean façade of the house. Bethany’s heart sank slightly to see the place in such disrepair, but vowed to restore it to its former glory once she was Lady de Wynter.
“Lady de Wynter...” she murmured, heat pooling in her belly at those words.
Was Justus in there now, hiding from the sun and dreaming of her?
Her thoughts broke as she heard a shout.
“Miss Mead!” Rebecca rode a shining silver bay up to her. “What brings you to this dismal place?”
Observing my future estate, Bethany longed to say, but it would be best to hold her tongue until her engagement was announced. “My horse was startled by a large dog,” she lied. “I only now got control of her.”
Rebecca smirked as if detecting her fib. “Well, you had best find your groom before you are seen in front of a rake’s home without a chaperone.” She sneered at the ramshackle house. “For a man who dresses so fine, his estate is in a ghastly state. He must be up to his ears in debt.”
“I could not say,” Bethany said thinly. “Anyway, I must be going.”
With a press of her knee, she guided Canterbury away, wondering if she could bite Rebecca once she became a vampire. The thought filled her with more glee than was proper.
She wondered how Justus’s conversation with the Lord Vampire of Rochester went. What if he refused to allow Justus to Change her? Would they then be unable to wed? Refusing to let such a dark prospect cloud her heart, Bethany once more urged her horse to a run once the edges of her father’s lands came into view.
Who was the Lord Vampire of Rochester anyway? Could he be a member of the nobility? She thought back to all the men she’d been introduced to since they came to the country, but her mother had thrust her before so many that they blurred in her memory. Or perhaps he was a commoner, hiding from the public view. No matter, she supposed she would find out soon enough.
Suddenly, Canterbury stumbled into a gopher hole and shrieked a high-pitched neigh. Bethany jolted from the saddle, the world flying before her eyes as fast as it had when Justus carried her home.
She slammed into the ground so hard her breath was forced from her lungs. Stars exploded in her vision before blackness engulfed her.
Pain, throbbing and sharp, awakened her after what felt like an age of slumber. Bethany opened her eyes to see a balding man with white bushy eyebrows standing over her. “Ah, our patient’s awake.”
Patient? Bethany blinked in confusion. Somehow she’d ended up back in her own bed, and now a doctor was in her room. She must have moved, for her knee exploded in agony.
The doctor gently held her down on her bed. “Easy now. Though you haven’t broken anything, you have a few sprains and bruises
. Best not to agitate them.” He then poured some liquid into a large spoon and forced her to drink a bitter concoction. “That should make you feel better.” He placed the spoon and bottle into his large leather bag and donned his hat. “I’ll look in on you tomorrow.”
Bethany grimaced at the taste of the medicine. Sprains and bruises… She then remembered falling from her horse. “Canterbury,” she whispered. If he’d broken a leg and had to be shot, she couldn’t bear it.
“The horse is all right,” Bethany’s mother said from behind the doctor. She set her embroidery hoop on the end table and crossed the room. “The stable master wrapped his sprained front leg. It is you I am concerned for. You could have broken your neck!”
Bethany’s brows rose at such melodrama coming from her normally staid mother. “I’m certain I’ll be quite well.” A thought made her freeze. “Lord de Wynter is supposed to pay a call tonight.”
Lady Wickshire frowned. “What sort of man pays calls at night?”
Bethany ground her teeth, not able to answer. The medicine flowed through her, making her feel muzzy-headed, though thankfully abating the pain in her knee.
Her mother continued. “Besides, you have a caller now.” She wrung her hands, looking unusually anxious. “Of course I told him he could not come up here with you in such a state, but he will be staying for supper.”
“Who?” Bethany asked, curious as to what sort of caller would unnerve her mother so.
“Lord Tench.” The answer came out sounding like a confession and Cecily’s shoulders slumped.
Bethany sighed in annoyance. “Is that all? Can’t he sup with us tomorrow? Tonight is important, and Tench smells like old beets and his hands wander where they shouldn’t.”
“Bethany!” Mother gasped at her words.
Bethany gave her a lopsided smile. The medicine seemed to have loosened her tongue, but she did not regret speaking the truth. “I’m sorry, Mother. I do not like him.”
“Well, you had best learn to,” Mother said with a frown. “Your father has accepted his offer for your hand.”
At first, Bethany did not comprehend her words. “But he is far too old. He’s older than father! He’s even older than Grandfather!”
Mother’s shoulders slumped. “All the same, his land borders ours, and he has guaranteed your father the necessary votes to become Governor. I tried to put a stop to it, to find you a better match, but your father was insistent and I ran out of time.”
The terrifying reality of the situation sank in. “No!” she gasped and threw off her covers. Hauling herself out of bed, Bethany ignored the shriek of pain from her knee as well as her mother’s protest. She spied a wooden cane leaning on the wall by her door that the doctor must have left behind, and hobbled to it.
“Bethany!” her mother shouted. “Get back into bed this instant!”
“No,” Bethany repeated as she grasped the cane with fumbling hands and shambled down the hall with aid of the cane. She had to stop her father from doing something so terrible.
The stairs were a trial to navigate, between managing the cane, keeping the weight off of her bad knee, and shrugging off her mother’s attempts to drag her back to her room. And once she made it to the bottom, her head was even more addled than before from the laudanum. Leaning heavily on the cane, Bethany made her way to her father’s study, where she heard male voices chatting jovially.
When she opened the door, Lord Tench’s face wrinkled further as he smiled. “Ah, here is my bride.”
Ignoring him, Bethany fixed her father with a glare. “I will not wed him.” Lady Wickshire gasped behind her and Tench blanched as if slapped.
Lord Wickshire’s eyes narrowed. “You will do as I say, daughter.”
“No,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I will marry Lord de Wynter. He is coming tonight to ask you for my hand.”
Both men laughed. “de Wynter?” Tench said with a mocking grin, though she could see a glimmer of hurt in his eyes for her rejection of his suit. “That wastrel could never provide for you. Unlike me, who will see to your every comfort.”
Her father, however, had sobered. “Our dear neighbor speaks truly. From the state of de Wynter’s holdings, he must be light in the pocket.”
Her mother nodded. “Furthermore, by all accounts, he is a rake. He cannot have any real interest in you. He’s never paid you a single call, unlike Lord Tench, who has been nothing but doting.”
Bethany heaved a sigh, exasperated with their lack of understanding. “He is calling upon me tonight! He would have called on me sooner, except that he’s a vampire.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. She had not meant to say that part aloud.
Both her father and Lord Tench looked at her with eyes the size of saucers. Tench was the first to recover. “She’s mad!”
“No,” Lady Wickshire said, putting her arm over Bethany’s shoulders. “She’s simply addled from the laudanum the doctor gave her for her fall. She does not know what she’s saying.”
“She’s been reading too many novels,” her father huffed, though beneath the veneer of bluster, Bethany detected sheer terror in his quivering jowls. “Which has given her a fanciful nature. Best keep your library under lock and key.”
Tench shook his head. “No drug makes a person say such things. And I know your family secret.” He rounded on Bethany’s father with a glare. “She’s mad, just like your mother was. I will not marry a lunatic. Let de Wynter have her.”
With that, the old man stormed out of the study with a surprising spryness for a man of his years, his withered features contorted with injured pride.
Lord Wickshire rose from his desk, face red with fury. “What have you done?” he roared. “Your foolish outburst cost me acres of land and the votes I needed to be the new governor!”
“I love Justus, not Tench,” Bethany stammered. “How could you sell me for votes?”
“All daughters are sold.” He sneered. “It’s all your good for. If I’d had a son…”
“And what about my grandmother?” she persisted. “What did Lord Tench mean about her being mad? You told me she’d died when you were a boy.”
“She was dead to me, once she was committed to bedlam,” Father said coldly. “Just as you’ll be if your so-called vampire doesn’t take your ungrateful, over imaginative hide off of my hands.”
Bethany gasped at his nonchalant words. All these years she’d thought her grandmother was dead and now she learned that instead, she’d suffered a worse fate. And had Father truly threatened to have her committed as well?
She closed her eyes as another wave of dizziness engulfed her from the effects of the laudanum. Perhaps this was a dream. Maybe she’d wake up in her bed, uninjured and ready to prepare for Justus’s proposal.
Her knee gave another throb of pain, refuting that hope.
At least her father had offered her one good thing. He wished to be rid of her enough to allow her to marry Justus. “Lord de Wynter will come for me,” she said coldly. “And then you shall never be burdened with my presence again.”
Her mother gently pulled her away. “Enough, darling. Let’s get you back in bed. You need to rest.”
Her father glared at her, jowls quivering with rage, but he didn’t say a word.
Once back in bed, Bethany was unable to sleep for her racing mind and spinning dizziness from the laudanum. Though her father had treated her with indifference ever since she left the schoolroom, she never imagined that she’d come to mean so little to him.
At least her parents seemed to ignore her blurting out that Justus was a vampire, aside from her father’s mocking remark. Fear and shame coiled in her belly. Justus had said it was forbidden for vampires to reveal themselves to mortals, yet under the influence of this dratted drug, Bethany had told his secret. Thankfully, no one seemed to believe her, but what if they told Justus what she’d said?
Although he’d said it was forbidden to kill people, surely Justus would have to do something to protect himself
. And what if her mistake made him hate her? Her soul ached at the thought. She prayed her father would be too embarrassed to mention her outburst.
The minutes crawled like hours until at last the sun began to set. Bethany rang for her maid to help her dress. She still insisted on wearing the white satin gown, even though her right stocking would not fit over her bandaged knee. She then chose to have her hair arranged in an upswept crown of curls atop her head and threaded with white roses from the garden.
When she made her way downstairs with the aid of the cane, grimacing in pain as her knee protested with every step, her mother gaped at her.
“Are you certain that is what you are wearing this evening?” Cecily asked with lips pursed in disapproval. “I daresay, it is much too formal for a night at home. Your father is already worried about your mental state.”
“I wish to look pleasing for my future husband,” she said plainly.
Her mother sighed. “Are you certain he is coming? It is nearly eight o’clock.”
It is not yet dark, she longed to say, but held her tongue. “Yes. He will come.” As they made their way to the drawing room, she changed the subject. “Did you know the truth about my grandmother?”
Gnawing on her lower lip, Mother nodded. “I thought it best to conceal such a scandalous truth from you. I know very little about the circumstances of her madness, but your father told me that she saw ghosts and believed people to be possessed by demons.” She gave Bethany a nervous, sideways glance, and shook her head. “Let’s speak no more of it and wait for your caller. I do hope you know what you are doing, accepting that man’s suit.”
“I do,” she said firmly.
When they entered the drawing room, Bethany’s father regarded her with a thunderous frown. “You’ve ruined me, you know. The moment he left our home, Tench called upon every notable family in Rochester and told everyone that you are stark raving mad. The laughter could be heard across the county.” His face reddened further. “Now I’ll never be governor and it will take years to salvage my reputation. You had best hope for a fast engagement with de Wynter because we will have to return to London as soon as possible. Furthermore, you look like a fool, wearing a ball gown for supper at home.”