His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (14 page)

“Ah, we’re here already,” Gavin broke off her racing thoughts.

From the moment she entered the foyer, Lenore saw Rochester Manor with new eyes, now that she was to be its mistress. Unlike Haversham House’s attempt to resemble an ancient Greek structure, this house was truly ancient, with worn stone walls covered with tapestries for color and warmth, and more wood-walled rooms further inside.

Some rooms looked more modern, with porcelain vases instead of pewter, and floral patterned wall paper.

He’d told her that she was to redecorate the place. Lenore could scarcely fathom it. In the tiny flat she’d shared with her family, the most she’d been able to do was trim the curtains with a piece of ribbon and fill a gin bottle with wildflowers scavenged from the edges of Hyde Park. Now she could do whatever she liked with countless rooms, gardens, and fields.

Her first priority would be the room full of nothing but the mounted heads of animals… or so she thought until she encountered a parlor done in nauseating pastel blues and pinks, over-gilt with gold and overflowing with horrid cherubs.

Had one of his previous wives furnished this room? The place was ghastly. Lenore vowed to pack away every last cherub at the soonest opportunity.

After they made their way back to the main floor, Gavin turned to Elena. “Lady Broussant, I would like to speak to Lenore alone, if I may be so bold.”

“Certainly, my lord,” Elena’s eyes sparkled with amusement at his formality. “Though do not tarry too long.”

Lenore’s heart hammered against her ribs as Gavin led her out into a rose garden. Tiny green leaves and dark red buds peeked out from a forest of thorns.

To her astonishment, the Lord Vampire of Rochester sank to one knee before her. She reached down to stop him.

“That really isn’t necessary, my lord. You’ve already proposed on bended knee.”

“That time did not count, as I was only announcing my intentions.” He grinned and placed his hand over his heart, like a suitor overcome with ardor. “Now that we’ve enjoyed a sufficient courtship, I must insist on completing all of the formalities.”

She bit back a giggle at his foppishness. “But there is no one here to witness that.”

“That doesn’t make it less enjoyable… in fact, it heightens the fun.” With a wicked gleam in his eye, he once more knelt and took her hand. “Lenore, I am awed at your beauty and enchanted with your charm and wit. Would you make me the happiest of men and do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She looked down at him, mesmerized at his smile and beautiful words.
If he can take pleasure in the pretense, why can’t I?

For a moment she allowed herself to imagine that he desperately loved her, that their life together would be full of magic and warmth.

Her lips curved in a wistful smile. “Yes, I will marry you.”

He rose and pulled her into his arms. “I will do everything in my power to make you happy, I promise.”

As Lenore rested her head against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart, a soothing sense of warmth filled her at his words. He sounded like he actually meant them.

When he withdrew, part of her cried out in helpless longing. But all thoughts ceased as he bent down and claimed her lips in an intoxicating kiss.

Warm shivers wracked her body, as she clung to his broad shoulders. His tongue delved between her lips like the flicker of a flame, lightly caressing hers, making her limbs turn to liquid and her stomach flutter in the most alarming matter.

A low growl rumbled from Gavin’s throat, and his grip tightened around her, restraining her. Lenore stiffened, fighting back shadowy memories.

He released her so suddenly she stumbled.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was thick and husky. “I forgot myself. It shan’t happen again.”

Lenore lifted her finger to her tingling lips. She wasn’t so certain she wanted him to never kiss her like that, but the words froze in her throat. How could she say anything when she didn’t know what exactly it was that she wanted? Or if it was even proper to want at all?

Shaking of the muddled thoughts, she took a deep breath a faced Gavin with a direct stare. “If you truly wish to make me happy, my lord, I do have one boon to request.”

“A boon?” Gavin arched a brow. “How formal. Well, I did say anything, as long as it is within my power.”

Lenore lifted her chin and didn’t break her stare. “That vampire you have imprisoned. Would you free her?”

His expression darkened like a thundercloud. “How very clever you are,” he laughed, but the sound was tinged with some deep-rooted emotion that was not amusement. “Most would use an opportunity like this to plead for jewels or a fur. But not you. No, all of your thoughts are for others, as always.” He spread his arms wide as if in mocking surrender. “Well, you’ve trapped me, so come along and let us fetch your prize.”

Elena’s eyes widened as they filed past her and down to Rochester’s dungeons.

To Lenore’s surprise, the stone chambers were warm, dry, and well lit. No dank and chilly cells in sight. And when she spotted the prisoner who’d kept her awake in the daylight hours, rife with worry, Lenore froze so suddenly that Elena bumped into her.

Myrtle’s cell held a cot covered with warm blankets, a table with paper and quills, and a glowing lantern. A small bookshelf stood in the corner, full of countless selections. Myrtle herself sat on a pillow by her cell door, playing a card game with the guard through the bars.

A far cry from the pitiful, abused creature Lenore had imagined. Guilt flooded her for assuming the worst of Gavin.

Myrtle quickly stood, scattering her cards. “My lord! I hadn’t expected to see you for another month.”

“My bride to be has requested your freedom as an early wedding gift.” When the vampire’s face broke into a wide grin, Gavin shook his finger. “You are still forbidden from going to Aylesford until I receive a response from the Lord of Maidstone. However, you may write a letter to your lover and explain your absence.”

Myrtle turned her shining gaze to Lenore. “Thank you, my lady. You possess the mercy of an angel.”

Lenore inclined her head, still speechless at the prisoner’s lavish accommodations. She wasn’t even chained anymore.

“Do not expect such generosity a second time.” He turned to the vampire guarding Myrtle. “Escort her home and inform Brian and George to keep an eye on her. One of you may deliver Myrtle’s letter to Aylesford. Decide amongst yourselves and I’ll sign a writ of passage.”

After the vampires departed, Gavin led Lenore and Elena back upstairs. “Did my gift of mercy please you, Miss Graves?”

“Very much, my lord… ah, Gavin,” she breathed.

As warmth unfurled in her heart at his kindness in granting her request, her stomach also knotted with fresh shame for misjudging him. Shame, followed by a fresh tremor of fear.

If Gavin wasn’t the cruel and merciless vampire that he was reputed to be, and if his kindness and generosity toward her was genuine, how could she stop herself from falling in love with him?

Seemingly moments after Lenore finished dressing for the evening, there was a knock at the door. Was Gavin calling on her so soon? She couldn’t hold back a smile. Perhaps he did have genuine affection for her.

Their engagement ball last night had been magical. For the first time ever, they had been able to dance every dance without censure. And there wasn’t a moment that Gavin did not smile at her and look at her like she was the only woman in the room. They’d even hunted together, feeding on the Earl and Countess of Bromley in the conservatory after Lord Bromley had protested Gavin’s exuberant attentions to Lenore and Lady Bromley had implied that Lenore was less than modest.

Now, even though it had been mere hours since she’d last been in his arms, Lenore’s pulse fluttered in anticipation to see Gavin again.

But when Elena opened the door, it wasn’t Gavin. Whoever had come to visit, he or she was too short.

“And who might you be?” Elena asked, voice laced with suspicion.

“Dr. John Elliotson, my lady,” a familiar voice said politely. “I was hoping to look in on Miss Graves.”

“She is not ill, to my knowledge.” Elena said sharply. “Who summoned you?”

Lenore strode to the door and nudged Elena away before she bit the poor man. “Dr. Elliotson is my dear friend from London.” She took Elliotson’s hands in her own. “How are you?”

“Quite well, though still a trifle weary from my journey.” The short doctor’s kind eyes smiled up at her. “I see you are still a night owl. I called earlier in the day, but the housekeeper said you would be abed until dark.”

Elena’s narrowed gaze darted between Lenore and Dr. Elliotson, her lips thinned in disapproval. Lenore looked down at her hands, avoiding her gaze. In the midst of her occupation with Elena’s lessons, the whirl of balls and musicales, and the enchantment of Gavin’s courtship, she’d forgotten all about Dr. Elliotson’s intentions to come to Rochester. Still, it was a joy to see the familiar face of an old friend.

After a discourteous pause, Elena’s shoulders relaxed with an inaudible sigh. “Of course a friend of Miss Graves is welcome. Please, do come in and I will ring for tea.”

“I would be most delighted,” Elliotson said as he removed his hat and hung up his coat.

Lenore led him to the parlor, rampant with curiosity about how his treatments had progressed without her.

“How are the women?” she asked the moment Elena left to find Mrs. Branson.

“Mary seems to be completely recovered, while Louise is still having a rough time of it. They all miss you dearly and were even more devastated when I left. If only I could open a clinic and fill it with capable staff.” He leaned forward, eyeing her intently. “Have you continued your work here?”

Shame sank in Lenore’s gut like a stone as she shook her head. “I’m afraid that my cousin has had me too occupied with showing me the countryside and socializing… and then,” she looked down at her lap, “the Baron of Darkwood began courting me. And now we’re to be married.” How frivolous that sounded, though she couldn’t explain that her marriage to Gavin was the price of an alliance between two Lord Vampires.

Instead of frowning in disapproval, Elliotson’s face broke out in a wide grin. “Why, that’s wonderful! As a Baroness, you’ll have so much more influence—”

“Influence for what?” Elena asked sharply as she entered the room with Mrs. Branson trailing behind with the tea tray.

“To do great works,” Elliotson answered with a broad grin. “In London, Miss Graves was my student in mesmerism, and later my assistant.”

Elena raised a brow as she poured their tea. “And what, pray tell, is mesmerism?”

The doctor’s eyes shone with excitement as he explained his obsession. “Mesmerism is a process in which I place a patient into a trancelike state where, through powers of suggestion and harnessing the imagination, spiritual and sometimes even physical healing can be achieved. The human mind is a powerful thing and my techniques are utilizing those powers.”

“And how do you place your patients in such a state?”Elena asked as she spooned sugar into their cups.

“Though some practitioners believe they must use the laying on of hands as Christ was known to do, I’ve discovered that a soothing cadence of voice and, most importantly, steady eye contact is the key.”

“How very fascinating,” Elena’s lips twitched with humor as she gave Lenore a knowing look. “I must say that I am not surprised that my cousin has an aptitude for such a thing.”

Elliotson smiled, oblivious to the vampire’s hint of mockery. “I believe her talent lies in the fact that aside from her quick wit, she has a calming, trustworthy air about her.”

This time, Elena appeared to be teetering on the verge of hysterical laughter as she hid her smile behind her tea cup. “Yes, that must be the reason.”

Oblivious to the vampire’s amusement, the doctor turned back to Lenore. “Tomorrow we must look in on the less fortunate women in the village and see if they require our aid. I have been developing a new technique and cannot wait to try an experiment. To do so, we must cultivate their trust.”

Lenore nibbled on a biscuit as she floundered for a response. “Well, tomorrow…”

Elena spoke before she could. “Tomorrow Miss Graves and I have errands and then a supper to attend.”

“Perhaps you could look in on them for me,” Lenore said, slightly irritated that Elena wouldn’t let her speak for herself. “And then I will call on you as soon as I can to find out what you’ve discovered. Likely they would be more receptive to a doctor on the initial encounter anyway.”

Elena clucked her tongue like a matron. “I’m not certain it would be appropriate for an unwed miss to call upon a man. What would Lord Darkwood think?”

“Then perhaps we can see if he may accompany us to the Bromley’s supper,” Lenore countered, unable to conceal a note of challenge in her voice.

Elliotson’s grin returned. “I’ve already received an invitation. Lady Bromley is my second cousin once removed.”

Elena’s eyes blazed with virulent hostility for a second before features smoothed in a placid smile. “Oh, how delightful. What a small world we live in.”