Wicked Lord: Part One

by Shirl Anders

Adam knew things were dire. Life-changing events had occurred that night. Yet he could only be grateful Beth was alive as he remembered the bloody remains he'd seen in the woods.

  "Beth, oh, Beth."

  His heart wound around the words as he grasped her tighter against the sway of the carriage. He worried that she didn't wake and still felt so cold. He wondered what he needed to do first when he reached his step uncle's mansion. Then they were pulling up front and he saw another carriage was there as he thought sourly of Fanton. He simply knew Fanton had something to do with the terrible events that had transpired.

  "If I find out you did," Adam hissed. "I will beat you unconscious, Fanton."

  The carriage halted and he was readying to order the driver to fetch a doctor, when a gentleman he'd never seen before opened the carriage door.

  "I'm Dr. Latham, Lord Winslow. I was sent by Blacknall," the thin, elderly gentleman stated briskly. "I understand the lady requires attention?"

  Adam was surprised … a bit startled, if the truth be known. "Yes," he rushed to answer the doctor as the man finished opening the door.

  The doctor leaned in with a lantern held high. He clasped his palm over Beth's forehead. "No fever." He squinted through his spectacles. "That's good. We need to bring her inside."

  "She won't wake up." Adam knew his anxiety showed.

  "A bit of shock, I'm sure. She will be all right," Doctor Latham said.

  "You know what happened?" Adam asked as he followed the doctor's urging hand to carry Beth down out of the carriage.

  "Blacknall explained the events pertinent to this young lady's care," Doctor Latham supplied, evenly.

  "Which one?" Adam asked as they reached the opened front entryway into the mansion. "Which Blacknall sent you?"

  "Lord Trinity, Marquis Montrose," Doctor Latham answered with brisk efficiency. "I've taken the liberty and had my servant set a fire in a small bed chamber we found down the west hall. It looked unoccupied, and I didn't want to waste time trying to discover the lady's proper bed chamber." Adam looked blankly at this as he followed the man. Doctor Latham added, "No one seemed about when we took the liberties."

  Adam knew no one would be about. His elderly step uncle and his one indoor servant, Spindle, would be well-bedded and snoring. The cook and her husband, the outdoor man, lived in a cottage set at the very back of the large property. That left Fanton, who'd hired the carriage and footman for the evening, otherwise they'd not had one. Beth would have used Lady Ariel's if Fanton hadn't interfered.

  If I get my hands on Fanton, Adam thought, just as Doctor Latham opened the door to the small bedchamber alight with a warm fire. A middle-aged woman in a dark, serviceable dress with a long white apron stood beside the bed. She had its comforter and blankets folded back and waiting. Adam felt his knees wobble with relief at finding better-qualified people to help his sister.

  "Come, lay her down, Lord Winslow," Doctor Latham said.

  As Adam laid Beth down, she made a whimpering sound and he nearly did fall to his knees with relief. Her unconsciousness had scared him. "Beth," he murmured brushing his lips to her temple.

  "If you don't mind waiting outside, my lord," Doctor Latham said.

  "Of course." Adam straightened, scraping a hand through his hair. "Please keep me advised." As he turned to leave, he saw the doctor's medical tools lying on a side table with a porcelain bowl of steaming water, and he appreciated the fact that they seemed to be proficient.

  Once the door clicked shut behind Lord Winslow, Trinity stepped out of the shadows from the corner of the room. The scant shadows in the corner wouldn't have been enough for a normal man to go undetected in.

  "You'll not want to stay. There's fresh blood," Doctor Latham advised him without turning from his task of unwrapping the cloak from around Lady Beth Winslow.

  "I can withstand my baser inclinations," Trinity muttered, and Doctor Latham glanced at him with one raised eyebrow. "With her," Trinity finished lowly.

  If he'd not gotten a fair look at Lady Beth before, he did now. She had black hair so dark it appeared as flowing ink against her ivory flesh. Her face was riveting to him with a slender nose, pretty lips, and a cup-shaped chin. Even the intensity of his interest to look at her face was certainly overcome by the tug of his brazen gaze to her large bare breasts and the thatch of ebony hair between her pale shapely thighs. She had on what he could only imagine women called a half-corset with black lace and ruffles setting off her firm breasts and framing her soft sex.

  Doctor Latham and his matronly helper lifted the lady onto her side and he saw the ragged claw mark slashed across her back. Blood oozed from the wound and his body tensed further than it had at the sight of her naked body by firelight, until he assured himself he was stronger than the urge for her blood. His tongue scoured over one of his fangs as he wondered if he was stronger than the lust that cackled at him while looking at her.

  "It's deep enough for stitches," Doctor Latham said. "Yet I'd not want to give her laudanum for the pain as I believe she's in shock."

  Trinity's gaze rose in agitation. He didn't want her hurt. He stepped back a pace. He was staggered by the blast of emotions. Bloody hell, where had it come from? More shockingly, Lady Beth whimpered the intimacy of his first name. His gaze spun to her red lips as if he could see her still forming his name in her delirium.

  "Is she awake?" he asked with a harsh growl in his voice.

  Doctor Latham lifted a needle to the candlelight with thicker thread looped through it. "No, but she will be as soon as we set the first stitch."

  "I will hold her." Trinity wondered at his eagerness and his sanity.

  Doctor Latham straightened, giving him a dubious scowl, while shaking his head, but he said nothing. Latham knew better than to question him. Trinity was more than capable of questioning himself over his motives. Why he was there in the first place? Because his little virgin was hurt.

  He nearly shouted a curse, digging his hand through his long dark blond hair. He'd not have her tied to the bed and that was the only other way. Tied, she'd still move and tear the flesh at her wrists and ankles. It was possible he had a way to calm her if it became necessary.

  It was an extreme idea. Although with Beth … and he caressed the intimacy of her given name in his mind, it might not work as some of his vampire ways seemed not to affect her like other humans. It would take more willpower than he'd used thus far trying it, and if his “trying” didn't work she could be in deeper trouble. Yet, Baptiste's experiments with vampire traits and human reactions had shown the anomaly.

  He pushed the thoughts aside. He would decide if the time came. He reached to button the jacket Christian had given him. He didn't need his bare flesh pressed to her bare flesh, he thought, watching the woman helper remove Beth's half-corset. Beth's long, dark eyelashes fluttered, but she remained with her eyes closed and he wondered what color her eyes were as his gaze trailed down the full curves of her nude body.

  He wanted to be on top of her, spread over the soft curves of her body, and he wondered if it had the most to do with sensing and smelling the heady vapors of her virgin's blood. Is that what made him hunger to thrust his hard shaft deep inside her and hope she would clamp her legs high on his back, while crying his name with hot tempests of passion.

  He hissed through his fangs, trying to shake the vivid image taunting him, and he said curtly to Latham, "Warn her brother about her screams."

  Ten minutes later, everything was ready and Trinity climbed onto the bed. There was no graceful way to accomplish holding Beth down to receive the stitches that her frail human body needed. Nevertheless, he was strong — inhumanly strong.

  They turned Beth onto her stomach. Doctor Latham's servant sat on Beth's legs, while Trinity took Beth's wrists above her head, holding them immobile with one hand. Beth's long hair was twisted and tied on top of her head and he pressed his other hand onto her shoulders and the back of her neck.

  Beth awoke screaming, feeling the
pain of an animal slashing her back again. Only she couldn't run away this time. She couldn't move.

  "Maiden, be strong." Lord Trinity's voice urged her, and the strong, growling sound of it caught her attention. She wailed as another stab of pain lanced across her back.

  "Trinity, help me!" she cried, trying desperately to thrash her body away from the pain. Yet, she was unable to move more than a few inches.

  "Keep her still," a voice ordered sharply.

  "Beth, you must stay still." Trinity's voice rumbled close to her ear.

  With her face turned to the side, she unclenched her eyes seeing one of Trinity's yellow-stamped eyes gazing close to hers. The pain stabbed again and she flinched with more tears pooling, as he uttered, "Breathe through it, maiden."

  What were they doing to her? she wondered, and desperation had her gasping a hard breath.

  "Stitching closed the animal's claw mark across your back," Trinity's voice sounded next to her ear.

  She was startled that he answered her unvoiced question, but then the pain bit into her back again and she mewled bitterly against it. No, no, no, she screamed in her mind as she struggled and begged with whimpers to escape the pain.

  "Hellfire," Trinity cursed with a snarl, then she heard him harshly order, "Hold, Dr. Latham."

  "But, I'm halfway through," the doctor's voice sounded with tension.

  All Beth heard through the staggering pain was, "Halfway through." She panicked, losing any courage she possessed. She wrenched her wrists against the unyielding hand holding them as she jerked her hips trying to throw the weight off, holding her down.

  Trinity realized he could have the strength of ten men, but he would easily break Beth's fragile flesh and bones if he used it.

  "I'll give her my blood," he hissed, trying to hold Beth's thrashing body down without hurting her. His voice, which normally sounded with conviction, this time, rang with doubt as he glared at Doctor Latham.

  Latham nodded his head, saying, "All of Baptiste's experiments with the feeders we've managed to save, those poor souls, have shown an overwhelming calming effect."

  "With no harm?" Trinity demanded through the chunkiness of his fangs fully extended. The beast inside him was perversely interested.

  "None has been recorded to date," Latham answered. "And she's going to pull the stitches out if we don't do —"

  Trinity cut him off with a growl and his arm extended. He flipped his wrist upward. "Cut it!"

  He would have done it himself, but he needed at least one hand to hold Beth from struggling off the bed. Doctor Latham cut his wrist and unnaturally dark blood began to pool.

  Beth was struggling so much he had to force his wrist to her panting mouth. "Drink it, maiden," he commanded with a strident voice, leaving little choice.

  Chapter Nine