His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (18 page)

“So will we spend our day sleep here?” she asked. Even Elena had outfitted her cellar with secure bedchambers.

“
You
will sleep in here. I will be in my adjoining room if you require anything.” He took her hands and stepped closer. “Though this is usually forbidden, tonight you will have to feed on Mrs. Crain. We cannot risk being seen out hunting tonight and cause needless gossip.” Leaning down, his lips brushed her cheek. “I’ll leave you now to get settled. Remember, if you need anything, simply knock.”

Lenore stared at his broad back as he left the room, closing the door behind him. Sinking down on the soft bed, she did not know whether to be relieved at the prospect of spending the day in it alone, or disappointed.

Gavin lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. The sun had risen hours ago, he could feel it in his bones. And yet he couldn’t sleep. This was his wedding night, or rather, wedding day, and he was alone. True, he hadn’t always consummated his marriages, but at least his brides had still lain beside him, talking and providing company, sometimes driving him to madness with their talk of all the changes they’d impose on his household. Elena had been the best, laughing with him and entertaining him with tales of her adventures and rise in society.

Though Lenore was a youngling, he still wanted to hear her stories, to know how she was Changed, what became of her maker, where she’d found the strength to survive the great adversity she’d endured the previous year. What were her hopes and dreams?

But instead of insisting she share his bed, he sent her to her own chamber. Because he didn’t want to frighten her. And, he admitted the despicable truth to himself, because he did not want to be tempted.

Instead of being a lark at best, and a tiresome chore at worst, their courtship had turned into something else. Something that felt real, and frightening all at once. The mere touch of her hands, the taste of her lips had awoken a desire that shook him to the core.

He wanted her, plain and simple. Yet he’d promised never to take her. Their kisses in the gardens and the carriage had been safe, but here, in his bed? That was a completely different matter.

Yet there was no way in the fabled circles of hell that he would become one of those beasts who’d hurt her. It may be his legal right to take her, but if he did, she would see him as a monster. And he couldn’t bear that. She’d already seen enough monsters in her short life. Thanks to his reputation, she already feared him. Usually that was the desired result, however, in her case, the way she trembled around him made a deep ache in his chest.

Tomorrow night he would do his best to ease her fears, assure her that she held a great amount of power in this marriage. And he would keep his hands to himself while he was at it.

Just as his eyes drifted closed, a scream rent the air.

Gavin threw back the bedcovers, hastily yanked on his bed robe, and charged into Lenore’s chamber, fangs bared and ready to drain the life out of whoever dared intrude upon her.

Instead of a thief or vampire hunter, he saw his young bride thrashing on the bed, trapped in the throes of some nightmare.

***

Lenore struggled against the steel manacles, metal biting into her wrists as they came closer. Cruel hands grasped her legs wrenching them apart. The slobbering rogue bared his fangs in a leering grin as he knelt and unfastened his trousers. She whimpered in dread at the pain that was to come and—

“Lenore,” a gentle voice rumbled over her.

The rogues looked up at the voice and dissolved as if cast into the sunlight.

Warm hands grasped her shoulders, snapping the manacles, freeing her from her prison. “Lenore,” that warm, strong voice repeated. “You’re all right. It was just a dream.”

Slowly her eyes opened to see Gavin standing over her bed. Even in the darkness, she could see the worry and compassion in his dark eyes.

“I-I’m sorry I disturbed your rest,” she stammered, still shaking from the nightmare.

“Think nothing of it,” he said softly. “I vowed to comfort you.”

A knock sounded on the door, followed by the sound of Mrs. Crain’s voice. “My lady, I heard a scream.”

“It’s all right, I only had a bad dream,” she called out, hoping the housekeeper wouldn’t open the door. “You may go back to bed, Mrs. Crain.”

“Very well, my lady. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ring for me.”

After the housekeeper’s footsteps faded away, Gavin released Lenore’s shoulders and turned away. “I’ll let you get your rest.”

“No.” The word tore from her throat in a desperate whimper. “Please don’t leave me. I’m afraid if I close my eyes, I’ll go back there.”

His shoulders stiffened, and for a moment she thought he would refuse, but then he nodded and turned back to her bed. “As you wish.”

Quickly she scooted over and lifted the covers to make room for him. As his weight dipped down on the mattress, her staccato heartbeat slowed to a more even tempo, but she still couldn’t stop shivering from a chill that seemed to radiate outward from her bones.

“Are you cold?” he asked with aching concern. “I could build up the fire.”

“It’s not that sort of cold,” she whispered. “It’s inside, somehow. Could you, I mean, would you… hold me?” Humiliation churned in her belly that he’d witnessed one of her episodes, along with fear that she’d committed some sort of marital gaffe by asking such a thing.

“Are you certain that is what you want?” His voice sounded husky and worried. “I don’t want to make your memories return.”

“They won’t. A comforting embrace is completely different than what those…
monsters
did to me.” The affirmation in those words made her pause with myriad realizations. When she’d first awakened in his bed with him, a powerful vampire who had been a stranger to her, she hadn’t been afraid… or at least not afraid that he’d do what Clayton’s rogues had done. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she explained. “You make me feel safe.”

Slowly, Gavin’s arms slipped around her waist. Then gently, as if she were made of glass, he pulled her close against his firmly muscled chest, and rested his chin on the top of her head. Soothing warmth seeped into her body.

Suddenly she felt his hardness pressing against her lower back. But instead of jolting in panic, her stomach quivered in an alarming manner, because the sensation was not unpleasant. Was his arousal a natural reaction from their intimate proximity? Or did he want her? Rather than the old terror surfacing at the thought, swirling confusion engulfed her mind.

Only one thing was certain. He wouldn’t force her. She knew that wholly and completely. He’d even positioned himself so that his erection was nowhere near her loins.

The chill in her bones melted away as she slowly relaxed in his embrace. And for the first time in nearly a year, Lenore fell into a peaceful sleep, with dreams of happiness and hope, rather than horror and pain.

Gavin awoke to the most delicious warmth he’d ever experienced. This must be what it was like to hold an angel, he mused, as she made a satisfied little hum and cuddled closer to him. Unfortunately, her innocent movement awoke his manhood, his shaft lengthening and throbbing with need.

No, he would not frighten her.

Carefully, he disengaged himself from her, his heart clenching when she moaned as if in protest.

“Is it night already?” Her voice was muzzy from sleep.

“Yes. I had thought we could hunt as soon as we’re dressed.” His stomach growled in agreement as he rose from the bed.

“Oh good, I am starving.” She turned over to look at him just as he was adjusting his bed robe to hide his raging erection. Her lips parted and her cheeks flushed, but unbelievably, she did not appear frightened. She looked down at her lap and blatantly changed the subject. “I felt so guilty feeding from Mrs. Crain. She is so kindly and…”

“I know.” Gavin himself did not feed at all last night. At his age he could go without for a time or two. But a youngling could become dangerous if they went without feeding for too long. Not for the first time he wondered how any passing mortals had fared when she’d escaped captivity. Shaking off the thought, he placed his hand over hers. “We only drink from the servants when there is no other choice. I do not foresee such circumstances again, if that puts your conscience at ease.”

“Thank goodness,” she said and rose from the bed, pulling her nightgown tight over her breasts.

Gavin tore his gaze from the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric. “Well, I shall leave you to dress.”

“Wait.” She reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “I’m still unaccustomed to these new gowns. Elena helped me before, but now…” She peered up at him shyly beneath thick lashes. “Could you?”

“Certainly.” Of course she wouldn’t have learned how to dress in the complicated gowns of the upper classes. Hell, his former wives had required assistance. The prospect of touching her filled him with delight even as he groaned inwardly at the temptation she’d unknowingly roused.

Lenore opened the wardrobe and gasped. “My God, these are all so beautiful.”

Gavin held his breath at the sight of the sparkle in her eyes as she ran her fingers along the delicate gowns he’d had made for her. “Do they please you?”

“Very much.” Her lips parted in awe. “And you bought these all for me?”

He nodded. “Only the best for my baroness.”

Her lips curled in a bewitching smile as she took out an emerald green velvet walking dress trimmed with lace. “So many have said that you are ruthless and cruel. But you have treated me more kindly than anyone.”

“I’m only harsh with those who cross me.” Avoiding her gaze, he fetched her stays and motioned for her to turn around. “Now do not go round ruining my reputation.” He softened the admonition with a light kiss on her shoulder.

Once he finished helping her dress, he rang for Mrs. Crain to arrange her hair and saw to his own clothing.

They declined a feigned breakfast and decided to walk, or run, rather. Gavin savored the flush in her cheeks and unadulterated joy in her eyes as they conquered the miles in a burst of preternatural speed.

“How did you hunt before?” he asked as they slowed to a walk and approached the village.

“I didn’t, rather,” Lenore said. “Blanche instructed me to sit on a park bench or stand on a street corner. The sight of a woman alone at night is always bound to attract a meal.”

Distaste roiled through him at that fact of life, along with a thread of admiration that she had been able to twist the inherent beastly qualities of men to her advantage. “So you turned would-be predators into prey.”

“Not all of them approached me for nefarious reasons. Some thought I needed help.” She looked down at her leather walking boots and frowned. “I confess, I always feel guilty feeding from someone trying to offer me a kindness.”

Her tender heart warmed some deep dark pit in his black soul. Yet such tenderness could be a double-edged sword. On one hand, a vampire less inclined to brutishness tended to follow the rules better. On the other, it was never a good idea to become too close to a mortal. And her friendship with that quack of a doctor was a definite liability.

“Who was Blanche?” he asked, changing the subject.

“The vampire who made me. She was very kind, but low ranking. I did not know her for very long.” Grief filled her dark eyes. “She was killed by a Hunter only months after she Changed me.”

“Why did she change you?” He was surprised at how curious he was in regards to her past.

“I was dying from the same consumption that took my mother.” She gave him a bitter look from the corner of her eyes. “To be honest, I think our lungs were full of lint dust from the factory. I know I coughed enough of that foul dreck out. Anyway, Blanche came to visit, claiming to be a friend of the family, though we never figured out which family. But that didn’t matter. She brought us food, honey, tea, and sometimes even laudanum when mother’s suffering was beyond help. We spent many hours talking, and by the time Mother took her last breath, Blanche told me what she was and offered to Change me. She saved my life.” Before Gavin could fully process the dismal picture she’d painted, Lenore looked back at him, eyes pleading to drop the subject. “What about you? When were you Changed?”

“During the reign of Edward the Second,” he answered, snapping a green bud from a hawthorn tree. “I was only months away from becoming an ordained priest, though I’d long since lost my faith.” Long ago discovered that God’s so called chosen were not the saints they pretended to be, and there was no divine intervention for those in despair.

“What year was that?” Lenore interrupted his haunting memories of pain and fear.

Gavin paused and cursed himself for a fool. Older vampires usually disclosed their ages with whichever monarch was ruling at the time they were Changed. As a youngling, and one from common stock at that, Lenore would have no point of reference from his answer. “Thirteen-twelve,” he clarified.

Her eyes widened. “That means you’re over five hundred years old. I thought the Lord of London, I mean, the Duke of Burnrath, was the oldest vampire in England.”