His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (15 page)

Lenore couldn’t hold back a triumphant grin. “Then we shall see you tomorrow night. I am so happy you’ve come, dear friend.”

Elliotson inclined his head before finishing his tea and rising from the table. “My delight in seeing you is far greater, Miss Graves. You seem to be thriving in the country. Now I must go. We shall speak again on the morrow.”

The moment the doctor departed, Elena rounded on her with narrowed eyes. “You’ve been associating with a human? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

“He helped me in ways no one else could,” Lenore said firmly, gripping her teacup. “When I learned how to help heal other women, it healed me. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“But what if he discovers why your so-called mesmerism abilities are so effective?” the vampire pressed.

“He won’t,” Lenore said with complete confidence. “He’s a man, so he thinks my skill is due to his teachings.”

Elena chuckled. “You have a valid point. But what of his talents? Surely he cannot do what we do.”

“Actually, he can, in a way. I do not know if it is because he possesses a unique power, or if it is simply due to people believing he can put them in a trance.” She couldn’t fight a smile of admiration as she related what she’d learned from the doctor. “Dr. Elliotson was correct in his estimations of the power of the human imagination. Just as a bored noblewoman can convince herself that she is ill all of the time, with a nudge in the correct direction, a person can be persuaded to be well again.”

“Surely not with a true physical malady,” Elena argued with a dubious frown.

“True, I do not believe he can cure genuine illness,” Lenore admitted, feeling somewhat traitorous to her friend. “Though he posits otherwise. However, I
do
believe that sometimes people think their conditions, such as aches from old injuries and arthritis, may not be as severe as they imagine. Mesmerism can ease those symptoms.”

“That does hold a touch of logic,” the vampire conceded. Her expression abruptly turned dark and grave. “He did not place
you
in a trance, did he?” Her voice rose in a panicked note.

“No,” Lenore assured her. “He does not have that much power. I placed him in one, though he does not remember me doing so. That is how I am confident that he truly desires to help people.”

Elena’s shoulders relaxed. “Good, because if he was one of those rare mortals with psychic abilities, he would have to be killed or Changed. And as he is a prominent figure in Society, I’m afraid the former would be the only viable option.”

Lenore shuddered at the thought of her dear friend being put to death. And it would be all her fault. “I vow that he knows nothing of our kind. In fact, despite some of his eccentric inclinations, Dr. Elliotson is still firmly grounded in science and does not believe in ghosts, mysticism, or beings such as ourselves. I am perfectly safe, I promise.”

Elena frowned. “And you are hell-bent on continuing your association with him?”

Biting her lip, Lenore nodded. Even if she could free one other woman from depression or nightmares, she would count her blessings. Once more, remorse at forgetting her mission weighted her soul.

Would
Gavin be angry that she wished to continue her work? In the rules he’d given her when she first arrived, he never said that helping mortals was forbidden.

Of course, she’d never asked him either.

Gavin looked up from his ledger at a knock on his study door. Frowning in irritation, he set down his glass of brandy. “Yes?”

Daniel, a vampire he’d hired to serve as his butler, opened the door. “My lord, Lady Broussant is here. She wishes to speak to you about an urgent matter.”

Panic crawled over his flesh like spiders made of ice. Had something happened to Lenore? “Bring her in at once!” he said more loudly than he intended.

Mere seconds passed like hours as a hundred dreadful scenarios flashed through his mind in a waking nightmare. Had his kiss frightened her so badly that she fled? Had she taken ill? Had she somehow been burned by the sun?

Or worse, had that roaming gang of rogues captured her? Cecil had nearly captured one during his absence… within a stone’s throw of Elena’s cottage. Gavin had nearly gone mad with rage when he’d received the report. Could the rogues be pursuing Lenore directly? The thought sickened him. Although Elena was powerful enough to fight a rogue, Gavin couldn’t help but wish Lenore was safe under his roof and his protection.

He frowned as he turned his glass, watching the firelight gleam in the amber liquid. Perhaps two months was too long to wait.

The second Elena’s shadow fell across his desk, his eyes scanned hers. “What is it? Is Lenore well?”

“Oh yes, she’s in perfect health,” Elena reassured as she helped herself to his decanter of brandy. “However, there is a matter of concern. A human man called upon her tonight.”

Gavin laughed in potent relief. Such was to be expected after he’d paid her such fervent attention. Doubtless some hot-headed buck wanted a spot of competition. “I don’t see that to be too worrisome. If he gets to be too much of a nuisance, she can always bite the chap.”

“He’s not a chap,” Elena said with a dour frown at odds with her youthful features. “That is, he’s a physician she’d befriended in London. Apparently he practices some sort of treatment called ‘mesmerism’ and Lenore was his student.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of that practice. Sheer quackery, albeit harmless.” Gavin didn’t care what the man did. What bothered him was that Lenore had a friendship with this man. For a vampire to associate too closely with a mortal was to invite untold danger. Was it possible that she’d loved the doctor before her abduction? Had the doctor arrived in Rochester in hopes to win her away from Gavin?

Although such a thing would be ludicrous, and furthermore not allowed by vampire law, the notion rankled all the same. How was Lenore to learn to trust him if she was still clinging to her past? And the last thing he needed was for her to renew this friendship and endanger herself and his people.

Elena brought him back to the matter at hand. “Quackery or not, Lenore insists that he can perform such a feat. And either way, she is able to entrance mortals even if he cannot. She wishes to use her abilities to help them.”

“I see,” he said levelly. Indeed he did. After the suffering she’d endured, it came as no surprise that Lenore would wish to ease the pain of others. But whether such a thing was wise or not, he could not yet say. He was still too disturbed by the notion of an intrusion of another who held her affections. Even more disturbed that he cared. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to have friends. He merely wanted her to consider
him
as a friend. Or something more.

Finishing his brandy in a long draught that promised to give him a bellyache, Gavin carefully formulated a more concise response. “I will speak to her later about the doctor. Yet I do not think there is much to be concerned with. Her duties as my baroness will keep her too occupied to continue to associate with him overmuch.”

Elena nodded, though a thin line of tension had formed between her brows, promising that she was not fully satisfied. “He will be at the Bromleys’ supper tomorrow. I do hope you will evaluate him thoroughly.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he said silkily. “Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. Now if you do not mind, I would like to be left alone to think about what you have told me.”

Elena bowed deeply. “Of course, my lord. But please, do not be too harsh with Lenore. She cannot help her kind nature.”

“I will be gentle with her, I promise.” As for the already irksome doctor, he could not promise.

One thing was certain, though. Their engagement would be shorter than he’d originally intended. The sooner she was under his roof, the safer she’d be from the dangers of associating with mortals… and from the rogues.

***

Lenore fidgeted with her wrap, unable to fight off waves of trepidation and she and Elena made their way through the crush to greet their hostess. What would Gavin think of Dr. Elliotson?

Already gossip had spread through every corner of the drawing room that the physician had paid her a call.

“Was she ill?” one matron whispered to her husband.

“If so, why would she be here tonight? Besides, she looks positively blooming,” he countered.

“You don’t think it could be another sort of health issue, do you?” the matron pressed. “You know, the type that lasts about nine months.”

“Now Madge, do not be unkind,” the man chided.

Despite the gentleman’s defense, that unkind speculation continued to circulate, though it did not carry too much weight as most acknowledged that Dr. Elliotson was not well known for overseeing pregnancies.

“I heard they were acquainted in London. Perhaps they’d had an understanding,” Miss Chatterton whispered to her friends. “Though the Doctor is quite short and not at all comely.”

“If that is true, how very sad that must be. For her to throw him over for a baron. Could she truly be so fickle and heartless?”

“Indeed. Also foolish. A doctor is a much more suitable match for one of her station. To pursue a title over comfort, well I hope the girl knows what she is doing. With Darkwood’s limited staff and the rarity in which he holds balls and such, his income must be very low.”

As the whispers swirled around her, Lenore’s gaze landed upon Lord Darkwood. From the ominous scowl upon his countenance, there was no doubt that he heard the gossip as well. She rushed forward to assure him that Elliotson was merely a friend, but Lady Bromley intercepted her. And Elliotson stood beside her.

“Miss Graves,” Lady Bromley began as all eyes swiveled to her. “I am so glad you were able to come. My cousin has been telling me about your acquaintanceship in London and that you were a student of his. I had no idea you were such a bluestocking.”

Titters erupted around her, making her ears burn. Lenore took a deep breath and curtsied as she fumbled for the proper response. “I am glad to be here as well, my lady. And I am even more overjoyed that my friend and mentor has arrived in time to hear of my engagement.”

Elena gave her a slight nod of approval and the laughter died down to hushed murmurs.

“Ah yes,” Elliotson said with a bow. “I am anxious to meet the man who has captured the heart of my sharp-witted friend.”

Lenore once more looked at Gavin and fought back a sigh of relief as she noticed that his features had softened. Though there was still a tightness to his lips that made her nervous. Hundreds of eyes bored into her back as Lady Chatterton led her and the doctor to the vampire baron.

“Lord Darkwood,” the squire’s wife began with more enthusiasm than was seemly. “Allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Doctor John Elliotson. Apparently he was a
close
friend of Miss Graves while she was in London.”

Gavin’s eyes swept down, regarding the short doctor without expression before he inclined his head in a slight bow. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, doctor. A friend of my dear Lenore is a friend of mine.”

A few slight gasps sounded behind them at Darkwood’s use of her Christian name in polite company. Had he done so to further press the point that they were engaged? Or was it merely a slip?

The Lord Vampire of Rochester did not make slips, if half of what Lenore had heard of him were true.

Ignoring the scrutiny of the spectators, Gavin extended his arm. “Shall I escort you to the dining room?”

Lenore gripped his bicep, squeezing it slightly in reassurance, though reassurance of what, she could not say. Surely he could not believe that she held any romantic affection for the doctor. And even then, why would he be jealous? Unless he had grown to care for her. Her heart clenched with futile hope.

During dinner, she watched Gavin’s face carefully while Elliotson chattered about mesmerism and his other studies. Her future husband appeared skeptical, but he did not seem to be annoyed, or bear any envy toward the man.

“Have you set the date for the nuptials yet?” Lady Chatterton asked as they were served a berry soufflé.

Gavin stabbed his dessert with a fork. “Two weeks should be sufficient to have everything in order.”

Lenore nearly choked on her spoon.
Two weeks?
But before he’d said their engagement would be two months or so. Why the sudden change?

Thankfully, the guests’ surprise prevented them from noticing her own.

Lady Chatterton gasped. “But… you won’t have time to have the banns read, or to plan a proper ceremony.”

“I am procuring a special license.” Gavin said, eyeing her blandly over the rim of his glass of sherry. He did not look at Lenore. “I cannot bear to wait any longer to make Miss Graves my bride.”

More whispers broke out behind fans and glasses. “A special license? How romantic. Just like a Jane Austen novel.”

Lenore managed a wan smile. If only romance were the reason for Gavin’s sudden decision to rush.

Before the murmured speculations rose to a fevered pitch, Lord Bromley rose from his seat. “I propose a toast. To Lord Darkwood and his soon to be baroness, Miss Graves.”