The Vampire Viscount

by Karen Harbaugh

  “You will be unhappy; I know you, Leo. We have talked of this, I remember, long ago.”

  “Oh, well, long ago!” Leonore replied. “It has been a long time since we have read fairy tales together and, after all, that is all they were—fairy tales. You cannot base your life on made-up stories.”

  “But you told me there was a seed of truth in all those stories!” Leonore could hear a note of bewilderment in Susan’s voice.

  “Well, there might be, but only a seed. And, as I said, that was long ago. I am older now and must face facts: We cannot all have the luxury of marrying where there is love.” She gazed at Susan and saw the lost look in the girl’s eyes. “Oh, Susie! It will be different for you! Why, you will receive a dowry and will be able to choose whom you will wed! And you are so pretty, I am sure you will have many suitors from which to choose.”

  “It isn’t right, Leo, it isn’t right!” cried the girl passionately. “I cannot be happy that you are marrying an old, ugly man! Not for my sake!”

  “Oh, my dear Susie!” Leonore took her sister in her arms, hugging her tightly, glad Susan couldn’t see the tears in her own eyes. “You are mistaken! Did no one tell you? St. Vire is young and handsome. Exceedingly handsome! Why, I am sure everyone will think me an absolute hag when I stand next to him.”

  “Oh!” Susan moved away from her, blushing. “I have been very stupid, I think.”

  Leonore sighed. “No, my dear, you have only been good-hearted and loyal, and the best of sisters.” Susan was so reclusive that apparently not even their mother had bothered to give her any of the particulars of Leonore’s betrothal. Their father barely spoke to Susan at all. She felt a pang of guilt. Neither had she, for she had avoided thinking of her impending wedding, and so was not wont to talk of it.

  “I am certain he will come to love you, Leo. He must know how beautiful you are and will come to see how good you are, too, and then will love you forever, I am sure of it!”

  Leonore smiled slightly. “Perhaps.” Just a little longer, she would allow Susan her dreams. Certainly, the girl would have a better chance at it than herself and would marry a man who would adore her as her little sister deserved. Such a thing was not for Leonore, herself. Was she not making an arranged marriage? And she did not, truly, know St. Vire. In real life, beasts often lurked under the face of a prince, rather than the other way around. No spell would change that, and neither was she a princess to kiss away an enchantment.

  “And, if he is indeed as kind as he has been so far,” Susan continued, “and since he is so handsome, you will come to love him, too.”

  “Perhaps,” replied Leonore, forcing herself to smile wider still.

  A knock on the door startled the young ladies, and they both looked at the door, then glanced at each other. “Come in,” Leonore said. A maid entered.

  “Excuse me, miss, but there’s Lord St. Vire wishing to speak with you.”

  Leonore rose, her hands clasped tightly together. It was past the hour for callers, just beyond twilight. What could St. Vire want of her? “Yes, Annie, of course. Do let him know I shall be down directly in the drawing room.” The maid bobbed a curtsy and left.

  “Do … you wish for me to be with you, Leo?” Susan asked anxiously. “Mama is not well today; she has the headache.”

  Through the years Mama’s headaches had increased in frequency and duration. Leonore bit her lip and wished she did not feel so nervous; there was something about St. Vire that intimidated her, and this angered her. She had had enough of intimidation throughout her life and had sworn she’d never be under it again. No doubt it was his undeniable handsomeness, or his exquisite elegance; she felt a drab mouse beside him, and he disconcerted her with his words and his manner, and the lingering way he looked at her.

  She tried to smile at her sister reassuringly. “Only if you wish to see what St. Vire looks like. I am betrothed to him, after all.”

  Susan bit her lip, considering the idea. She glanced at Leonore, then nodded. “I think I shall, just for a little, for perhaps he would like to be private with you, and I would not like to intrude.”

  Leonore almost sighed with relief. It was proper for her to be alone with her betrothed, but she did not feel comfortable about it yet. She smiled. “And I am sure you would very much like to see if he is as young and handsome as I have said he is,” she said, teasing.

  A blush suffused Susan’s cheeks, but a dimple appeared as well. “Well, I only wished to see who our benefactor is … and all the better if he is young and handsome.”

  “Minx!”

  Susan only grinned.

  It had been two weeks since Leonore had seen St. Vire for the first time, and that late at night. She sometimes thought perhaps she had exaggerated his handsomeness and his youth, that wishful thinking had tainted her memory of him. But she only had to look at her sister’s awe-filled gaze upon their entrance into the drawing room to confirm her own perception.

  For St. Vire was more handsome than she had remembered, perhaps because she was not so tired now as she had been two weeks ago. He was impeccably attired, apparently for some evening event, instead of in the more casual fashion she had seen him that night. His well-fitted jacket showed off his broad shoulders, and a silver-chased waistcoat peeked beneath it. A single ruby pin glowed in the midst of the immaculate folds of his neckcloth. In all, he looked magnificent, even more so in contrast to the faded wallpaper and the worn furniture around him.

  He greeted her and bowed over her hand with exquisite grace, and then over Susan’s, which made the girl giggle.

  “Miss Susan Farleigh, I presume?” he said smiling.

  The girl nodded shyly. “I am pleased to meet you, my lord.” She looked at Leonore and then back to St. Vire. “Shall I leave, now, sir?”

  “Susan!” Leonore exclaimed at her sister’s abruptness. She was hoping Susan might stay a little longer, at least until Leonore felt more comfortable in St. Vire’s presence.

  St. Vire chuckled. “Only if you wish to leave, Miss Susan.”

  Susan cast a mischievous glance at her sister. “Oh, I think I shall. I have some mending to do.”

  “Susan—!” Leonore hissed as the girl passed her on the way out the door. But Susan ignored her and shut the door firmly.

  Her face was hot, and Leonore was sure she was blushing furiously. She could not look at St. Vire, could not say one word because of her embarrassment and her frustration at being put at such a disadvantage. Silence was a wall between them, and she tried to breach it with a small laugh.

  “You must excuse her, my lord. She is young and full of romantic notions.”

  “And you, of course, are an ancient, too full of years to have such ideas.”

  This time she could not help smiling, and this gave her courage to glance briefly at him. He was also smiling at her, and his gaze was kindly. “Of course not,” she said.

  “Ah! I have hope that you, too, have romantic notions.”

  Blushing, she shook her head. “You mistake me. I meant I am not an ancient. But I have enough years to know our match is not at all romantic.”

  “One never knows how anything will turn out. You should have enough years in you to know that.” He took a step closer to her. She looked up at him then. Their eyes met and held. “You are lovely, Miss Farleigh—Leonore. I could easily have romantic notions about you.” He took another step closer.

  She was but a handsbreadth away from him. His eyes shifted from her own and focused on her lips.

  “Nonsense,” Leonore said, surprised her voice came out in a whisper. “Nonsense,” she said more clearly. “We have met only once, and that two weeks ago.” She hated herself for her weakness, for showing even slightly that he discomposed her.

  He grinned. “I see you have been counting the weeks, Leonore.”

  She took a step backward and breathed deeply. “Not I! I have been too busy for that. And … I have not given you permission to use my Christian name.”

  “How
remiss of you. I, however, will do my part: My name is Nicholas. You may use it whenever you wish.” He took another step toward her, but when she stepped back, she found herself against a wall. She dropped her gaze from his.

  His hand came up to rest on the wall next to her head. The other touched the same ear he had touched when they first met. A finger traced a tingling line from ear to jaw, making her face flame hot again.

  “In fact, I would very much like to hear you say it. You have a lovely voice, you know. I have always like my name, and I think I shall like it even better if you were to say it.”

  “Nicholas.”

  “Ah. I was right. I do like it better when you say it.”

  An unwilling chuckle bubbled up from within her and made her look at him again. It was a mistake. St. Vire had bent his head toward her so that his face was very near hers. A considering look crossed his countenance.

  Her breath came and went quickly, making a sound like a little moan. A spurt of anger at herself for her loss of control came after it.

  He moved away from her. “You are frightened of me.”

  “No, I—”

  “You need not be, you know. I have said I will never raise my hand to harm you. I keep my word.”

  “It … it is just that I do not know you, my lord.” Leonore glanced at him and saw he was not angry. Her heart slowed its hammering beat, and she let out a slow breath.

  He smiled and took her hand, kissing it. “Then my errand to you is most opportune. In the interests of getting to know one another better, perhaps I can persuade you to come to the opera with me?”

  “The opera?” She felt a little dazed at this change of subject. “When?”

  “Tonight. Now. And, if you feel uncomfortable about being alone with me, you may ask your mother and sister to come with us.”

  “Tonight?” Her mind was in a flurry of confusion. “The dresses I have ordered have not come yet—or wait! There is one I brought home, and Susan can wear her new one. But my mother—oh, she is ill with the headache. I do not know—”

  “Then you and your sister can come with me,” he said patiently.

  Susan would be ecstatic at a chance to go to the opera. Leonore gazed up at St. Vire and smiled gratefully at him. “You are very kind, my lo—Nicholas. I shall tell my sister, and be ready quickly.”

  “ ‘My Nicholas.’ I like the sound of that.” He took her hand again and kissed it. His lips were soft against her skin.

  Again the thoughts scattered in her mind. “I didn’t mean … That is to say …” She looked at him, saw laughter in his eyes, and pulled her hand away, saying, “You are teasing me!”

  “I?” His expression was wounded. “You accuse me unjustly, my dear.”

  This time she could not help laughing. “You are teasing, and for that I shall take my time dressing and make you late for the first act.” She went toward the door.

  “Oh, horror!” he cried and put his hand theatrically to his forehead.

  Leonore did not reply, but laughed again before she shut the parlor door behind her.

  St. Vire stared contemplatively at the closed door for a moment. He sighed. His betrothed was a truly delectable woman, but she was as elusive and as easily startled as a wild deer. The wooing of her would take some time, and he had only two months before the wedding. And it was necessary that she give herself willingly on their wedding night.

  He grinned suddenly and widely. At the very least, he would enjoy the pursuit.

  Chapter Four

  Leonore captured one’s gaze, thought St. Vire, and made it linger. He was conscious of the speculative looks at their box in the theatre, and knew she and her sister were attracting much attention. There was something gratifying about it, after his lengthy seclusion from society.

  He watched Leonore, who leaned forward in her chair, her whole focus on the stage. It was more amusing watching her than the opera itself. Her face, ordinarily quite controlled, now clearly showed the emotions the opera evoked in her. Gone were the guarded look and the wary watchfulness, and he thought her more lovely for it.

  As for himself, he had seen Mozart’s Don Giovanni many times before. Since Lord Byron had published his poem Don Juan, all things even remotely related to the story were revived for public consumption. Perhaps he was becoming jaded from overexposure to the character, but St. Vire thought Don Giovanni—Don Juan, for that matter—singularly stupid. No man who truly appreciated women would treat them as that character did.

  His lip curled as he watched Don Giovanni struggle upon the stage to escape from the seduced Donna Anna and end up killing her father in the process. What a fool the man was, with no finesse whatsoever. A woman was to be wooed gently, seduced into understanding that nothing mattered but the moment; and a wise man chose experienced women who expected nothing else. Don Giovanni had no discrimination whatsoever. St. Vire shrugged. He recalled the music was sublime, and if he did not reflect on the story, he could concentrate on the sounds coming from the stage and perhaps recapture the experience he’d once had.

  St. Vire let his gaze wander appreciatively over his betrothed, considering her. He had wooed her gently this evening, giving Leonore most of his attention when he was not playing host to both her and her sister. And yet, though this usually would have thawed the iciest of dowagers, it only brought the wary look into her eyes again. Should he not press his attentions upon her as much? But then, he had only two months until their wedding day. It was not much time, to be sure.

  The second act ended, and he watched Leonore sigh and lean back in her chair. She turned to look at him, her expression still unguarded.

  “Are you enjoying the opera, Leonore? Miss Susan?”

  “Oh, Lord St. Vire!” Susan exclaimed, her eyes glowing with wonder. “It is the most wonderful treat! And such a story! I cannot wait to see what happens next.”

  A light laugh came from Leonore, and she leaned toward St. Vire. “I agree and would add to that the wonder of such beautiful music.” She put out her hand in an impulsive gesture and touched his sleeve. “Thank you. It was very kind of you to bring us here.”

  An odd warmth rose within St. Vire, surprising him. “Nonsense,” he said. “I wished for company. Who else more appropriate than my betrothed?” He almost wished he had not spoken, for his voice sounded cool and abrupt. He had been surprised out of his customary urbanity, and he frowned briefly.

  Leonore gazed at him, her wary expression returned, and then it disappeared again with a wide smile. “You need not have asked Susan to accompany us, however. I still think it very kind of you to do so.”

  St. Vire gazed at her, arrested. Here, now, was Leonore’s expression open again, and for what? Not flattery, but a simple act of what she termed kindness. He had thought he’d seduce her with his words and his manners, as he had done with other women. But one simple invitation for herself and her sister had sufficed to have her look upon him more favorably.

  He smiled and raised her hand to his lips. “No, again it was merely self-interest. I merely wished the whole ton to be envious of me that I have two lovely ladies in my box.”

  Leonore withdrew her hand from his, but this time her gaze was uncertain rather than wary. A blush rose in her cheeks, and she shook her head. “You are too kind.”

  St. Vire leaned back in his chair. “I am not, really. In truth, I am a selfish fellow, concerned only with my own wishes. However, if you are determined to think me otherwise, please do so. Indeed, I will give you another reason to heap praise upon my head: I have ordered refreshments be brought here, so you needn’t venture forth and be mobbed by the enormous number of gentlemen who have been training their quizzing glasses for the last half hour upon you both.”

  “Have they?” Susan inquired, her eyes round. She leaned forward and looked out of their box, then shrank back. “Oh, no!”

  Leonore put her hand on Susan’s arm. “It is only that we are strangers, I am sure. Once we are better known, they will not stare so.” He
r sister relaxed and continued looking about the opera hall with more interest. Leonore seemed to hesitate, then leaned toward St. Vire and lowered her voice. “My lord, my sister is normally reclusive and only agreed to come because music is so dear to her heart.” She pressed her lips together and looked at him uncertainly. “I do not want her to … she needs to …”

  St. Vire took her hand and squeezed it gently. “She is not used to society, eh? And the attentions of strangers tend to frighten her a little and make her more reclusive?”

  She sighed and smiled at him gratefully. “Yes, that is it. Susan is not at all used to having attention paid to her, and she would not know how to respond to it.”

  “Very well then. I will be careful in what I say, so we may ease her into society with as little trouble as possible.” He noticed Leonore had not pulled her hand from his grasp and, indeed, pressed his hand in return. “Am I wrong in thinking this might be true of you, also?” he asked.

  A flustered expression briefly flickered over her face, and she withdrew her hand. The refreshments came, and as she sipped a bit of wine, she seemed to gain some measure of composure. She looked at him, a bit of defiance in her gaze. “Oh, I shall manage quite well, I am sure.”

  He merely nodded and suppressed a smile. He really could not resist teasing her. “I am certain of it. But there are so many rules and restrictions, it would be easy even for me to falter.”

  “Oh, really?” Leonore’s eyebrows rose. “I would not have thought it.” Her voice was ironic.

  “Truly. I received one set-down after another from Lady Jersey the other night, and there was nothing for it but I must persist in blundering toward my goal.”

  “And that was … ?”

  He opened his eyes wide in innocence. “Why, procuring vouchers for Almack’s of course.”

  There was silence.

  “Almack’s?” Leonore croaked.

  “Yes. Do you not wish to go?”

  “For me? I … I will go to Almack’s?” She stared at him, hope and disbelief crossing her features. She shook her head and smiled ruefully. “No, of course not. You are teasing me. If you are such a blunderer, and if Lady Jersey gave you set-downs, then you cannot have received any vouchers.”