His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (5 page)

He then effortlessly hefted her trunk and valise from the boot.

A female vampire with reddish-gold curls and glittering green eyes greeted them at the door. Though her gaze lit with recognition when she saw Rochester, she lifted her chin and looked imperiously down her nose at him. “You may carry the trunk upstairs to the second chamber on the right.”

Lenore stared as, rather than berating the vampire for her insolence, Gavin shifted the luggage to one shoulder and doffed his cap. “Yes m’lady.”

After he went upstairs, the vampire turned her cool gaze on Lenore. “So you are to be the new Baroness of Darkwood.”

Lenore curtsied. “Yes, my lady.”

“Do that again,” Elena commanded. “But straighten your back, hold your skirt with two fingers instead of three, and do sweep your left foot behind you.”

Lenore curtsied again and the vampire tsked. “No, like this.” She demonstrated.

After her third attempt, Elena gave her a brisk nod which hopefully signified approval. “I cannot fathom why he chose such a mouse for his bride, but we shall have to make do.”

Gavin returned downstairs and Lenore felt a wash of relief to no longer be alone with this viper… until he said, “I bid you good night for now. I shall see you again as soon as is proper.”

He bowed and lowered his head to kiss her knuckles just as Lenore had daydreamed about in her mortal days.

“Not until you are formally introduced!” Elena hissed.

Gavin withdrew and scowled. “Blast it, Elena. Must you be such a dragon?”

“It will take a dragon to carry off this madcap scheme. Though this little mouse may speak well, anyone with a pair of eyes and ears will know she’s of common stock. I have my work cut out for me, and you must behave with utmost care if you want to avoid the wagging tongues.” She bared her fangs, eyes glowing with unholy light. “In the old days, we simply could have torn out their tongues and not had to bother with such silly farces.” Lenore must have made some reaction, for Elena turned to her. “Show me your teeth.”

Reluctantly, Lenore opened her mouth.

Elena smirked. “So you
do
have fangs. I had begun to doubt it.”

Gavin sighed. “Elena…”

She waved a dismissive hand. “I needed to make certain you hadn’t gone as mad as the Duke of Burnrath and are trying to wed a mortal. Now shoo. I need to start on her lessons at once if we expect her to be ready for the Haversham’s party.”

Gavin gave Lenore an unreadable look before turning on his heel and leaving the cottage… leaving her alone with the dragon.

Elena’s narrowed gaze looked her up and down with discomfiting scrutiny. “Come, sit in the parlor with me.”

Lenore’s gaze surveyed the immaculately clean cottage that somehow managed to be elegant and cozy at the same time. The rose colored damask wallpaper with gold gilt cabbage roses complemented the cherry wood table and chairs. Small sculptures, candelabra, and vases filled with fresh cut flowers stood upon lace doilies on every available surface. Lenore eyed the blooms and wondered if Elena had a hothouse.

...Or if Gavin had brought them to her.

Once they were settled in high-backed chairs, Elena arranged her skirts. Lenore did her best to imitate her, though her gown was not as voluminous.

“Were you a merchant’s daughter?” Elena asked.

Lenore shook her head. “My father was a chimney sweep.”

The vampire’s brows rose to her hairline. “Oh my. I suppose I may have underestimated you. Your speech may hold a touch of the lower classes, but I never would have fathomed
that
low. Can you read?”

“Yes,” Lenore said, bristling with irritation. She may be weak and born of common stock, but she wasn’t a half-wit.

The vampire ignored her irritation. “Can you dance?” Her voice seemed to hold a taunting edge.

Dismayed, she shook her head. “The vampire who made me taught me a few reels and a country dance or two, but I cannot waltz.”

“And what of ladylike pursuits?” Elena continued her interrogation. “Do you paint, sing, or play the pianoforte?”

Lenore’s shoulders slumped. “No. I never had the means.” She didn’t even know how to ride a horse.

“Well, I knew we’d have much work to do. Lord Darkwood would not have sought my aid otherwise.” Elena’s gaze softened. “Do not look like the end times have come. If you were quick-witted enough to learn how to read and speak properly as a mortal, learning a few mortal frivolities shouldn’t be over-difficult.” She rose from her seat. “Come, I will help you unpack your things and show you where we shall take our day rest. And then we shall waltz.”

As Lenore followed Elena upstairs, she glared daggers at the vampire’s back. She didn’t want to spend any measure of time with this vampire, much less dance with her.

To her surprise, she found that she missed Rochester.

Gavin
, she once more corrected herself.

Gavin sat by the fire in his study, sipping a snifter of brandy and gazing into the flames.

He’d heard her laugh tonight.

Despite the countless other, far more important matters demanding Gavin’s attention, he could not stop hearing Lenore’s laughter in his mind, and picturing the way her lips had curved with genuine humor. Although he knew that people under extreme duress were prone to outbursts of mirth, tonight had proved that Lenore was at least still capable of laughter.

Irrational relief permeated his conscience. She was so solemn and timid every time he’d seen her. Perhaps there was hope that she would find some measure of joy.

Gavin frowned at how much he cared about her feelings. It shouldn’t matter whether Lenore was happy or not. All he needed was for her to fulfill her requisite role. Yet he found himself hoping that she would enjoy playing her part.

He wondered how Lenore was getting on with Elena. Hopefully Lenore was not too overwhelmed with the vampire’s intensity. He’d seen her shrink back from Elena’s scrutiny, and he doubted she’d also seen the glimmer of compassion in Elena’s piercing gaze.

Though Elena possessed a brusque exterior, she concealed a kind heart and a zest for mischief and adventure, the latter of which Lenore was painfully lacking.

And yet, she’d laughed tonight. That laughter continued to haunt his memory. Like the chiming of silver bells, the sound seemed to light up the night.

He would do all he could to make her do it again.

Taking a final sip of the fine vintage, he savored the fiery heat that burned down his throat. However, another thirst needed slaked, and Gavin rose from his chair, donned his greatcoat, and went out in the night to feed.

At first Gavin considered going by the King’s Arms for a drunken harlot, but then he realized that Elena would likely be taking Lenore to hunt soon.

Perhaps he should discreetly look in on them and make certain they were getting on well.

As he neared Elena’s hunting grounds, Benson, his second in command intercepted him.

“Yes, Benson?” he struggled to conceal his impatience.

The vampire spoke quickly, eyes wide with urgency. “Another rogue has been spotted, near the quarry. Alec and Cecil have already given chase.”

Gavin cursed. “Bloody hell, there seem to be more of them popping up every night.”

“Should I send a message to the Lord of Maidstone?” Benson asked with a nervous blink.

Gavin thought for a moment. On one hand, it would be the courteous thing to do to make Maidstone aware. On the other… “No, he vexed me last spring when he allowed some of his people to invade my lands for the May Day festival without my leave. Let him contend with intruders this time.” He turned on his heel and said over his shoulder, “I am off to have a bite. We shall speak tomorrow night.”

Benson bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

After his second departed, Gavin rushed off toward Elena’s preferred hunting grounds in a burst of preternatural speed. He took a circuitous route to Knight Street, remaining downwind so the females wouldn’t detect him.

Moments later, he caught their scents. Elena’s always struck him as a bit tart, like Bordeaux wine. Lenore’s was subtle, yet evocative, like a calla lily. Only meager power radiated from her. If the vampire who’d Changed her was older than a century, he’d eat his boots.

Gavin paused. Who
had
Changed her anyway? Why hadn’t that vampire been looking out for Lenore? Had he— or she— abandoned her? Or were they dead? He resolved to ask her at the earliest opportunity.

Hushed voices, too low for a mortal to hear, reached his ears.

“Just wait, and some sotted bucks will be shambling along from the pub.” Elena’s voice carried in a hungry whisper. “The ones around here are usually quite brawny from working on the cathedral.”

Lenore’s response was so soft he couldn’t make it out, or maybe it was the flare of irritation at the thought of her fangs in some young muscled male’s neck that blotted out his hearing.

Gavin shook his head. Why in the name of heaven should it matter who she fed on? She was a vampire, it was what they all did.

“Are they well fed?” Lenore’s voice reached his ears.

Elena sounded perplexed. “The ones I’ve bitten appear to be so. Why do you ask?”

“I won’t feed off of those who are malnourished.” That quiet, yet implacable will once more imbued Lenore’s tone.

Elena chuckled. “A vampire with principles, how quaint. Not to worry, there are very few underfed in the country. Unlike that squalid city you came from.”

Gavin bit back a laugh. He’d forgotten how much Elena had loathed London. She’d held a pomander to her nose the entire time. In that aspect, at least, Lenore had more fortitude.

Now that he’d assured himself that Elena had things well in hand, he ought to depart and seek his own meal, but something held him in place. He wanted to see Lenore feed.

Unbidden, the memory of the bite of her fangs on his wrist, the feel of her mouth on his flesh, and the golden glow of her eyes as she’d fed from him with kitten-like ferocity teased him.

Gavin shivered in delight. The sound of drunken laughter and a human’s voice raised in garbled song brought him closer, despite his better judgment. When Lenore and Elena came into view, he couldn’t help comparing the two.

With Elena’s vibrant hair, confident poise, and sleek movements, she radiated predatory grace. Lenore, on the other hand, appeared meek and unassuming as a wallflower at a ball. Even her cloak and dress, while new, were drab. However, such an unimposing impression would indeed make her the superior hunter, if she knew how to utilize her persona.

Leaning back against a wide oak tree, he watched to see if she did.

Two human males staggered into sight, arm in arm in the type of brotherly love that only copious amounts of spirits could invoke. When they spied Lenore and Elena, they stopped so abruptly that they nearly fell on their faces.

The first one doffed his cap and steadied his friend with a hand on his shoulder. “What are pretty gels like ye doin’ about at this hour?”

Elena gave them a winsome smile and hooked her arm through Lenore’s. “It is a secret, I’m afraid.”

“Waiting for a moonlight tryst?” The other man hiccupped. “Well, ‘tis awful late, so perhaps they’ve lost their way.” He staggered forward. “But if ye both are still feeling randy, we will gladly accommodate ye.”

“Aye.” The first one reached for Lenore. “And who is this shy little flower?”

Lenore stepped back. Elena frowned and bent down to whisper in her ear, too low for the mortals to hear, but easy for Gavin to catch. “What are you doing?
We
are the predators here.
They
are the prey.”

Even in the dark, Rochester could see her face flush. Once more he cursed the rogues for reducing her to this state. How had she been able to feed after what she’d been through?

Lenore nodded and forced a smile as she approached the man who leered at her.

Gavin clenched his fists, ready to destroy the human if he tried to harm her.

“I’m sorry, sir, I am shy.” She took another dainty step toward him. “That is a very nice scarf you are wearing. May I look at it closer?”

“Of course, m’lady.” The man bent down and Lenore captured him with her gaze. Elena did the same with the other man, beckoning him with fluttering lashes before she bent his will to hers.

Lenore lowered the human’s scarf, wrinkling her nose as she exposed his neck. Then, touching him as little as possible, she lunged, sinking her fangs in his throat with surprising fierceness. Gavin saw her eyes light with a flash of fury, and he wondered if she imagined retaliation for those who had wronged her.

The wrathful expression vanished as quickly as it appeared, and Lenore closed her eyes, a small, content sound rumbling in her throat as she fed.

Gavin felt a surprising twinge of envy, along with a sudden urge to feel her mouth on
his
neck instead.

He paused and shook his head. He’d never been all that interested in doing such an activity with any of the female vampires he’d been with before. Though he’d been happy to oblige them, if that was what they desired. Feeding from another vampire during lovemaking could be pleasurable, after all.