His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (16 page)

After they drank to Lord Bromley’s toast, the servants cleared the desserts from the table and the ladies retired to the drawing room while the men enjoyed their cigars and port.

The young, unmarried women clustered around her, all prying for information about Lord Darkwood’s sudden hurry to wed. Her stomach twisted and knotted as she covered her ignorance with platitudes.

“I am happy to defer to His Lordship’s wishes.” She fluttered her fan and managed a girlish titter. “I only hope I have time to procure a proper wedding gown.”

The other young ladies smiled in approval before launching into a debate on the latest fashion plates for Paris. Meanwhile, the gossip continued to circulate around her. Some opined that perhaps Lord Darkwood felt threatened by the reemergence of her old gentleman friend. Others were now fully convinced that Gavin had indeed gotten her with child.

By the time the men returned to the drawing room to listen to Miss Bromley play the pianoforte, Lenore was half mad with the need for the real explanation.

Gavin took his place beside her and her heart once more skipped a beat at how imposingly beautiful he was. She licked dry lips and whispered behind her fan. “Why
do
you wanting to move the wedding date sooner?”

He shrugged, face expressionless. “Does there need to be a reason?”

Yes!
She wanted to insist, but did not know if it was right to make demands of her Lord Vampire. “I suppose not, but some say your hurry has something to do with Dr. Elliotson’s arrival. I hope that is not the reason, for I only feel friendship for him.”

His lips twisted in a sneer. “That boisterous dwarf? Certainly not.” At her intake of breath, his tone gentled. “He is an affable fellow, I give you that. As for wedding you sooner, I simply see no reason to play out the courtship any longer than necessary. The matrons have ceased pestering me and thrusting their milksop daughters at me, so I consider the endeavor a fait accompli.”

“I see,” she said softly and turned her face back to the performance.

Her eyes burned with what felt like impending tears as the reason behind his words struck her like a spear to the heart.

He truly didn’t care about Elliotson’s arrival at all. Not that she wanted him to be jealous or anything so foolish. But that would be better than the truth.

He had already grown bored with pretending to like her.

Two Weeks later

Over half of the village seemed to be in attendance within the large cathedral. Gavin stood beside his groomsmen, the priest behind him, and smiled with satisfaction. Despite his impulsive rush, this may be the finest wedding he’d ever had.

Hundreds of candles decorated the nave, reflecting off of the stained glass, gleaming candelabra, and marble statues of saints. A shaft of moonlight shone through the hole in the roof, adding a touch of silver to everything.

Gavin wondered why he’d chosen the cathedral. In his mortal years, the place had been his life. And though memories both wonderful and terrible haunted him to the point where he couldn’t go more than a few months without walking beneath these hallowed vaults and arches— though not the cloisters, never that place— the thought of wedding one of his vampire brides here had never occurred to him.

But there was something about Lenore that made him want to provide the best for her. Maybe it was because she had lived all of her life in poverty. Maybe it was because he rather enjoyed the bright light that came into her eyes at what seemed to be the most trivial things.

No matter the reason, he could not wait to see her in the wedding gown he’d commissioned from the Siddons sisters. Thankfully that had been delivered on time, along with the trousseau and a third of the wardrobe he’d ordered. The rest would be ready in only a month. Lord Deveril had been vexed at the sudden request to deliver the gowns sooner, though he had been somewhat placated when Gavin offered to pay double the previously agreed price.

Lord Deveril himself sat near the front beside his wife as well as Lord and Lady Villar. Lord Villar had wanted to give the bride away, but that had been out of the question.

“Your connection to Miss Graves would raise unnecessary questions,” Gavin had told him. “It is only out of respect to Lenore’s wishes and your status that you were invited at all.”

Villar had scowled, before nodding in grudging acknowledgment of Gavin’s logic.

Yet the matter of who exactly would escort Lenore down the aisle remained a problem. At first he considered hiring a man from London to pretend to be her father, but then he realized that would take too much work and entail too many risks.

The issue was resolved when Dr. Elliotson begged for the honor. Gavin had been at the verge of refusing until the man pointed out that taking the role of fatherly figure would dispel any rumors that he held any romantic interest in Miss Graves. Gavin reluctantly agreed.

Still, he did not like it one bit. To be friends with a mortal invited countless risks.

His ire eased as the organ resonated throughout the cathedral, heralding the bride’s approach.

She wore a gown of silver, embroidered with flowers threaded with what looked like diamonds. The moonlight danced on the silk and flashed on the jewels. Instead of pearls, loops of crystals twined through her hair, culminating in a little crown from which hung a gossamer veil.

Unbidden, Gavin’s lips parted as he drank in the sight of her, an angel drifted down from heaven, or perhaps a goddess from the moon. A shy smile played across her lips, ethereal and fey. He suddenly wished all the guests would go to the devil and leave them alone so his eyes could drink in her beauty to his heart’s content.

An unfamiliar ache tightened his chest as Lenore took her place by his side and turned to face the priest. Gavin held his breath, unable to determine what she was feeling at the moment. Did she like her dress? Was she pleased with the large attendance of guests? Or did the crowds frighten her? Did
he
frighten her?

Father Blatty opened the prayer book and began the ceremony. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”

The droning words faded from his awareness as her dark eyes met his, so large he could drown in their depths. She looked so solemn, so nervous, he wished he could interrupt the priest and assure her that everything would be all right.

When the priest spoke of procreation being one of the primary purposes of marriage, Gavin watched Lenore closely. Would she have wanted children, had it been possible? He’d heard of some female vampires plunging into deep depressions because they could not conceive.

Thankfully, Lenore did not appear saddened. In fact, her lips twitched with wry amusement.

“Secondly,” Father Blatty continued, “It was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication…”

Now it was Gavin’s turn to bite back laughter. His sins were so extensive there was no remedy. As for fornication, he’d done plenty of that. Adultery? Bigamy? Perhaps he was guilty of those as well since he’d never divorced any of his previous wives. He frowned. Since when did that matter?

“Thirdly, it was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity. Into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.” Father Blatty glanced around.

Gavin held his breath waiting for someone, perhaps Lord Villar, to object. His gaze scanned the crowd with such sudden worry that for a moment he imagined Justus in the masses. When blessed silence permeated the cathedral, he let out a sigh and chided himself for being so daft.

The priest then asked Gavin and Lenore if there were any impediments to their marriage. Once satisfied, he turned to Gavin.

“Gavin Drake, wilt
thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I will,” he answered, taken aback by the conviction in his voice.

Father Blatty then turner to Lenore. “Lenore Graves, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

“
I will,” Lenore’s voice quavered slightly. Gavin could hardly blame her.
Serve and obey
were certainly more daunting than
love and comfort.

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?” the priest inquired.

Dr. Elliotson placed Lenore’s hand in Father Blatty’s, who in turn placed her hand in Gavin’s.

After being directed by the priest, Gavin recited the vow he’d made at least once a century. “I, Gavin Drake, take thee, Lenore, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

Lenore repeated the vow to take him as husband, voice soft as a whisper. Gavin squeezed her hand in reassurance.

Father Blatty then placed the ring upon the prayer book. Gavin took the small golden circlet adorned with a diamond surrounded by glittering black opals. He never gave any of his wives, even the ones who’d wed him more than once, the same ring.

Gratified at the awe in Lenore’s eyes, he slipped the ring on her third finger and recited, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” He bit back a bitter laugh. How long had it been since he’d believed in the trinity?

His gaze lingered on his new wife’s lush lips and Gavin suddenly wished he’d opted to take her to Gretna Green and wed her over the anvil instead. Those brief ceremonies concluded with a kiss. What he would give to kiss her now.

The appeal of an elopement intensified as the priest launched into an endless recitation of psalms. By the time the litany ended, Gavin was grinding his teeth in impatience and Lenore appeared to be holding back a yawn.

At last Father Blatty turned and presented them man and wife. Lord and Lady Darkwood.

Gavin’s mission had been accomplished.

Then why did everything feel so incomplete?

***

Justus ducked out of view of Rochester’s second in command. The son of a bitch had already nearly caught wind of him twice. Taking a circuitous route, he finally made his way back to the castle ruins where his band waited.

Rolfe grinned when he entered the chamber they’d appropriated for their day rest. “Did you learn anything new?”

Justus nodded. “The wedding was a joyous affair. Odd that he chose to hold such an elaborate ceremony.” And in the cathedral, no less. The implications of that were not lost on him, nor the look in Gavin’s eyes when he beheld his bride. Sneaking into the ceremony had been risky, but what Justs had discovered had been worth the danger. His fists clenched at his sides as he forced an indifferent tone. “They’ll enjoy a supper with dancing before spending the remainder of their wedding night at the manor, unable to hunt. I overheard Cecil saying there will be another Gathering next Sunday, so we’ll have to disperse for that night.” He smiled at his cohorts. “Did you all secure the items I requested?”

Rolfe nodded and fetched a stack of slim booklets from a large square stone they used as a table. “I found five copies of ‘Wake not the Dead.’ I wish I could have gotten more, but I had a tussle with one of the Maidstone vampires. Blimey, it’s difficult getting into a bookshop at night as it is.”

Justus took the volumes and smiled. “Five should do. The village is small enough.” He looked to Will and Charlie. “And what were you able to come up with?”

Will withdrew a stack of pamphlets from his jacket. “You must read these. Some are absolutely preposterous. This one says that we cannot cross running water!” He laughed and handed them over.

Charlie shifted on his feet before handing Justus a few more pamphlets. “I can’t rightly say what I got. I can’t read, so I just went from the pictures.”

Justus took the pamphlets and glared at the others, silencing their mocking laughter. As he skimmed through subjects such as ghosts, witches, riots in London, and one crumbling piece that might have been about vampires, he smiled. “Actually, a little variety would be beneficial. We don’t want to be too obvious. And we certainly don’t need to stir up a full-fledged panic.”

“I think a panic would be good,” Rolfe said, taking a knife from his pocket and tossing it in the air. “Have His High and Mighty Lordship quivering in his bed in fear of a stake.”

“No,” Justus said firmly, slapping the pamphlets on his thigh. “We would be even more vulnerable in that case. All we need is to rouse enough suspicion to make Rochester be forced to step down.” He set down the stack of vampire literature and crossed his arms. “Actually, I would prefer for the suspicions to be directed at his bride. Let
her
be the cause of his downfall.”