Miss Austen's Vampire

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Miss Austen's Vampire Page 4

by Monica Knightley


  After crossing the grassy expanse they arrived at the edge of the lake, where small cattails grew along the water line, Gabriel peered out over the lake to the manor house.

  “You know, when my sister left our family home to marry Lord Dartfourd, she was rather bereft at leaving the only home she had ever known. Now, as Lady of this perfectly situated home, she is most content and happy.”

  Jane could hear the note of affection for his sister in Mr. Augustine’s voice. After walking all the distance to the lake without once looking his way, she decided to risk glancing up at his face. The same affection she heard in his voice was evident in his expression.

  “You are close to your sister, I take it?”

  “Indeed. Though since her marriage and the births of her children, we are not as close as we were in our youth. And in truth, I am not the man she used to know.” Those last words were said under his breath, and she wasn’t sure if she was meant to have heard them. Jane decided to err on the side of caution and made no comment.

  Visibly shaking off a brief moment of melancholy, Gabriel turned and led them along the lakeside. He asked her about her published books, their road to publishing, any other books she was planning, her choices of characters and settings. His questions came fast and furiously, and she was delighted to hear someone, especially a man, have such an interest in her work. Only her brother Henry showed such a level of interest in her writing. Three-quarters of an hour sped by as they conversed on her favorite subject.

  Laughing about the socially inept Mr. Collins of Pride and Prejudice and how he was indeed based on several such vicars she had known, Jane and Gabriel came to the opposite side of the lake. Jane assumed they would now make their way to the house and go indoors, but instead he led her on, into a small stand of trees that grew just feet from the lake. Once inside the copse, she could see that they were sheltered from the house. Realizing she was now very much alone with Mr. Augustine, Jane could feel the familiar warmth of a blush creeping up her chest, to her neck, and finally onto her face. Were he a much more average man, in appearance as well as character and temperament, she was certain she would not now be feeling the fluttering of her heart, and the telltale warmth on her cheeks.

  But Mr. Augustine was no average man.

  She had been gazing at the lake as she was assessing her feelings and the situation, and could now feel his eyes on her. Keeping her chin down and head very still, she ventured to peek up at him out of the corner of her eye. When her eyes met his she quickly glanced away, but after a thorough admonishment of herself and her silliness she dared to look into them again. Dark, so dark she could hardly see a pupil within them, and lazily half open, his eyes appeared drunken, though she knew he had not had a drop to drink. They were now standing mere inches apart, so the only distance from his face to hers was the difference in their heights. Jane couldn’t stop staring into the liquid eyes. It was as if she had been taken prisoner by those eyes, and could only do as they commanded. Another new feeling, experience. Though nervous beyond anything she had ever known, she was also strangely comfortable. Her pounding heart may have been sending a different message however.

  Jane knew what was going to happen. She knew what had to happen. And she knew she wanted it to happen. Waiting for the inevitable, she kept very still, only her eyes moving—from the seducing eyes, to the lips, soft and curved.

  She felt his breath, and as it caressed her face she breathed deeply. Her breath was coming faster, and she began to feel a bit lightheaded, but willed herself to overcome it, to remain in this moment. She watched his mouth as his lips parted, and his tongue briefly touched his upper lip before retreating again. Glancing up at his eyes, she saw that they were closed, or very nearly so.

  His head moved closer to hers, and his lips found her lips. Tentative, gentle, the touch was as soft as a whisper.

  He pulled back for one heartbeat, and then his lips were pressing urgently against hers. A little sound of wonder escaped the back of her throat, as she moved her mouth against his, trying to feel every bit of the kiss. Then his arms were around her, his hands pressing into the small of her back, and she moved hers to his shoulders, as the kiss continued. His lips parted, and she felt the tip of his tongue touch her upper lip. The touch surprised her, and she found her lips parting, and allowed his tongue to explore her mouth. As she savored the taste of Gabriel, she not only could feel the pounding of her heart, but also became aware of a strange tingling throughout her body.

  As the kiss continued, and she felt more and more like she had left the earthly realm, Gabriel moved one hand to the back of her neck, the cool touch sending pulses through her awakened body. His kiss became more urgent and she heard soft sounds coming from the back of his throat. But still she matched urgency for urgency, and her tongue found its way to his mouth and as it did he pressed his body against hers. Somewhere in some dark recesses of her mind she knew this was supposed to be wrong. But she firmly told that voice to silence itself and chose instead to fully revel in the moment. Feeling his strong, hard body pressing against her made something inside her go to liquid, to melt. Having never known man—being a virgin at thirty-nine years of age—she knew little about what was happening to her, but knew enough to understand that every part of her body was ablaze, and that only something heretofore unknown could possibly put out this fire.

  Now lost in the waves of new awareness, Jane wanted the moment never to end, but the quiet niggling whisper that had been telling her this was wrong became much more insistent, and finally was shouting so loudly that she was taken out of the lovely experience and brought back to earth with a shattering recognition of who and what she was about.

  Putting her hands on Gabriel’s upper arms, she pushed him away and pulled her face from his. She couldn’t find her voice and stared into his face, seeing eyes that were confused by her actions.

  “No,” she whispered. “I cannot . . . this is not . . . I have not . . .” Her voice cracked and a pain grew in her throat. “Oh dear, that was . . . but no.” She shook her head, turned away, and ran out of the copse, heading toward the house, as tears escaped her eyes and found courses down her cheeks. Breathing became painful and she gasped for air. It seemed that the house was now miles away when just minutes before it had been so close to the lake.

  Reaching refuge, and relieved that no one was in the entry hall, Jane hurried up the stairs, found the hallway where her bedchamber was located, and threw herself into the room.

  After closing the door behind her, she stumbled over to the bed and sat gingerly on the edge of it. Images from the copse ran through her mind, and despite herself, she smiled. Not only had she just been kissed, and quite thoroughly, but the man doing the kissing had been arguably the most attractive man she had ever met. She pressed her hands over her wildly beating heart, willing it to calm. Then taking one hand, she softly touched her fingertips to her mouth and closed her eyes, remembering.

  Gabriel could only stand under the trees and watch her go, knowing full well he had taken liberties he should not have taken. Miss Jane Austen was no local tart, or kitchen maid, or unhappy, unfulfilled wife of another man. She was a genteel lady—clever and amusing, and yet naïve and virginal. And of course, she was Jane Austen, the celebrated authoress. The author whose writing he so admired. God, she was not a woman to be toyed with.

  Why had he allowed himself to lose control? Even as they had approached the copse he knew what he was going to do, and even as his conscience told him ‘no,’ he chose to ignore it and do as he pleased. In truth, he would have liked to have done much more with the lovely Miss Austen than simply to kiss her. That realization horrified Gabriel, and he kicked the nearest tree several times, scuffing the toe of his boot.

  He wasn’t sure what to do now. He couldn’t just leave when his sister was expecting his company, but to stay would mean having to face Miss Austen. Remembering that he’d tied Greystone to a tree on the hill, he made his way up the hill toward him, hoping to co
me to a solution as he walked off his anxiety. Greystone snorted a greeting when Gabriel reached out to stroke his side, and the contact did have the effect of calming some of his anxiety over what had happened. He mounted the stallion and headed for the house, still unsure what he was to do now.

  Chapter 5

  Once her heart ceased racing, Jane got up from the bed and went to the window. Her window faced the lake, and she could just see the copse off to the far side. From her vantage point it appeared smaller than it had when she was hidden inside it. She put her hands up to her cheeks, cradling her face and took a slow, deep breath, recalling the feel of Gabriel’s mouth on hers.

  Across the expanse of lake, on the far side, coming down the hill was a rider on a massive grey horse. The rider’s bearing was regal as he sat tall in the saddle. That the rider was Gabriel she knew the moment she saw him and she watched him carefully, hoping he would be turning to leave the grounds and head away from the house. Having to face him again so soon would be quite uncomfortable. But even as she wished for him to leave, she knew she would be deeply disappointed if he did. Minutes later, she saw him head for the stables. He would be staying.

  This situation required Jane to make a decision: whether to stay ensconced in her bedchamber, or to be the good guest and visit with her generous hosts and their other guests. She knew there was no decision to make, she had to do the socially correct thing. She was going to have to face Mr. Gabriel Augustine.

  Checking herself in the looking glass, she saw the high color in her face, and hoped the others in the house would simply attribute it to the brisk walk outdoors. She smoothed some stray hairs back into place, and studied her lips, their color still raised from the delightful activity in the copse. When she was adequately pleased with her appearance, she stepped out of the room and slowly, quietly headed for the library, where she had heard Lady Dartfourd mention she would be gathering with some of the other weekend guests.

  Perhaps Mr. Augustine would be heading for some other part of the large manor house. Perhaps she would not have to meet with him. Perhaps all her worries would have been for naught.

  As she approached the open door of the library she heard the animated voices of those inside. And there was no mistaking the one voice she had hoped not to hear.

  Jane stopped just steps away from the door to give herself a much-needed opportunity to admonish herself. Whatever was she afraid of? So the man had kissed her. And she had kissed him back. Surely such things happen all the time, and certainly there was little doubt that such things happened on a regular basis to a man as handsome as Mr. Augustine. Jane knew the kiss was probably already forgotten by him, inconsequential as it was. She steeled herself and entered the room.

  A group of three was sitting together on the left side of the room, and a larger group of five was sitting in the center of the room. Standing with the center group, his back to the door, was Gabriel. She briefly admired his broad shoulders and strong back, as well as the long legs that were tucked into the tall boots. Jane allowed herself a brief sigh.

  Lady Dartfourd was in the larger group, and Jane headed toward her, feeling her heart begin to race in her chest again. She circled around the gathering so as to avoid having to stand near Gabriel, but even as she did so she felt his eyes on her. Jane couldn’t bring herself to look at him so instead regarded Lady Dartfourd.

  “Ah, Miss Austen,” Agatha called out, “I was beginning to worry that you had gotten yourself lost whilst on your walk. Did you enjoy your explorations of the grounds?”

  Agatha Augustine Dartfourd, at age forty, nearly the same age as Jane, was a stunning woman. Her hair, while still mostly its original dark brown, was streaked with silver. The silver did not age her however, but rather added to her beauty. Nearly the same height as Jane, her figure was lithe and graceful. And in her face Jane recognized some of Gabriel’s features: the long nose, dark eyes, and high cheekbones. Jane found herself feeling slightly intimidated by her, despite the woman’s gracious and kind ways.

  Still focusing only on the lady of the manor, Jane answered, “Yes, Lady Dartfourd, I enjoyed my walk very much.” Oh yes, she thought, I certainly did enjoy it. “Your grounds are very lovely, and on a day like today, a sunny spring morning, it was quite prefect.” Jane’s eyes never wavered from Agatha’s face.

  “Well, I am pleased to hear it. Won’t you sit with us and enjoy a cup of tea? My brother Gabriel just arrived as well, and I was just hoping he too would sit with me for a bit. Gabriel?” Agatha implored her brother.

  Jane sensed, peripherally, Gabriel sitting down. She desperately wanted to glance his way. She could easily imagine the long legs stretched out in front of him, and the face with the knowing dark eyes, and the soft lips. But to look at him now would be her undoing.

  “Yes, Miss Austen,” the sensuous, deep voice said, “please do join us. I was just about to enjoy a cup of tea, and I would be most grateful if you would join me.”

  How could he do it? How could he speak to her so easily, and make her feel like they were the only two people in the room?

  Keeping her eyes on the floor, Jane sat down in the one free chair. It was the furthest from Gabriel’s, a fact for which she was thankful.

  “A cup of tea would be very nice, thank you, Lady Dartfourd, Mr. Augustine.” Her breath caught when she said his name, and she hoped no one heard it.

  “Why, Miss Austen, I would say your walk must have agreed with you, your face has a healthy glow about it,” Gabriel said casually.

  Jane refused to turn her eyes toward him, and she silently cursed the man for teasing her so. But he wasn’t finished. “I think that whilst you are here at Dartfourd you should take the fresh air as often as you can.” Even without seeing him, Jane knew he had a smirk on his face. The insufferable man!

  “While it was most pleasant, I think it will most likely be my last.” Two could play at his game.

  “What?” Gabriel cried. “Your last walk of your visit? Surely you do not mean to stay indoors for the remainder of your time here?” His voice was raised, and Agatha became visibly uncomfortable with her brother’s behavior.

  “Gabriel, I’m sure you do not mean to force my guest to do anything she does not wish to do.” Agatha tried to smooth over the sharp edges of Gabriel’s comments.

  If only Agatha understood the double meaning of everything being said, including her own words. Jane smiled to herself.

  Gabriel saw Jane’s smile and thus encouraged to continue with his friendly teasing, said, “Perhaps your guest wishes to walk again, but would prefer her walk not be a solitary one. Perhaps she would welcome company the next time she is out. Miss Austen? Have I uncovered your true meaning?”

  Gabriel was pleased to see Miss Austen finally look his way, after so carefully having avoided his eyes. Feeling impish, he gave her a lopsided smile. He saw the color in her face intensify. Oh yes, he thought, I am thoroughly enjoying this.

  He continued. “Yes, I do believe that is your meaning. As the gentleman that I am, I would be most pleased to accompany you on your future walks during your visit.” He raised his brows in question.

  She stared down at her hands, hands that Gabriel noticed were shaking ever so slightly. “Mr. Augustine, while I appreciate your kind offer, I think if I choose to enjoy the grounds here I can do so without an escort.”

  “Of course you can do so on your own, but now that wouldn’t allow me to act the role of gentleman, and surely you would not wish to deprive me of that, would you? You do not seem the sort to deprive a gentleman, Miss Austen.”

  “Gabriel Augustine, did you hear what you just said?” a stunned Agatha said in a low, deliberate voice, leaning over to Gabriel. “Surely you did not choose your words carefully, and now owe all in hearing an apology.”

  Gabriel saw Jane’s neck and face turn a bright crimson, and that she wrung her hands in her lap. He did not wish to make her so uncomfortable, but the double-entendre was not only amusing, it was starting to arouse h
im. The woman, who upon first acquaintance had appeared so plain, was turning into a devilish temptation. And though he knew intellectually that it was time to rein himself in, he knew he would do no such thing.

  “Miss Austen, please forgive my foolish choice of expression. I only mean to say that I can see you are a lady who likes to please others, never a self-centered type of person. That is a most appealing attribute.”

  Though she didn’t look up, he knew she could feel the strength of his gaze upon her. And he knew she took his meaning, as he truthfully meant it, double entendre and all.

  The tea was poured for Jane and Gabriel, and he made a sudden decision.

  “Agatha, would you mind if I stayed here tonight? It is a long story, but Francis and I are in the midst of a bit of a disagreement, and I think it would be best for me to stay away from my home tonight.” No need for her to know that he wouldn’t have been there anyway, as he was rooming at the inn.

  Clearly flustered, but fighting to remain the Lady of the manor, Agatha answered, “Gabriel you are all surprises today. Quite comfortable with sharing your every thought with my guests. But of course you may stay here tonight, you need never ask, as I hope you would know by now.” She smiled at him through gritted teeth.

  He did indeed know. But if he were not to say it aloud in front of Miss Austen, how could he have possibly made his hopes, or even intentions, known to the lady? What those intentions were, he had to leave to the lady’s imagination.

 

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