Authors: Alexandra Ivy
My Lord Vampire (16 page)
It was more luck than skill that allowed her to slip silently past the servants who were indulging in a late night dinner and to the back stairs. Thankfully she already knew the way to Gideon’s chambers, and with a hasty prayer that she was not about to make a dreadful mistake she hurried down the corridor and pushed open the door to his chambers.
The room was bathed in shadows, but Simone sensed that Gideon was awaiting her as she cautiously inched her way through the darkness. It was in the thick tension she could feel in the air, and the unmistakable sensation of his dark gaze resting upon her.
She stumbled to an uncertain halt, and at that moment a candle flared to life.
Standing beside the vast bed, Gideon was attired in his brocade robe. With an elegant movement he set the candle on a table and moved to take her chilled hands in his own.
“Simone.”
“Gideon, I ...” She briefly faltered, staring at the starkly handsome features that appeared oddly unfamiliar in the flickering candlelight.
As if sensing her wavering nerve, Gideon gently squeezed her hands, a frown marring his brow as he felt the shudder that raced through her body.
“Simone, what has happened?”
“I received a note from Mr. Soltern,” she admitted bluntly.
He stilled as his dark gaze narrowed. “What did it say?”
“He demanded that I bring my amulet to the brewery.”
“Simone, you cannot allow him to have the Medallion,” he said in commanding tones.
She abruptly pulled her hands free and turned from that unnerving gaze. She could not think clearly when he was so near.
“It is not so simple.”
“What do you mean?” As she remained silent she heard him step forward and felt the warmth of his hands as he gently stroked them over her shoulders. “Simone?”
She closed her eyes, knowing that the moment had arrived when she must confess the truth. That knowledge, unfortunately, did not make the task any more pleasant.
“You have already surmised that I possess secrets,” she said in low tones. “Secrets that I cannot allow others to know.”
“Tristan has discovered those secrets?”
“Yes.” A sob caught in her throat. “I do not know how, but ...”
He gently squeezed her shoulders, his breath touching her cheek as he leaned close to her.
“It cannot be so bad, Simone.”
“Oh yes. It is very, very bad.”
“Tell me, Simone,” he urged softly.
Taking a deep breath, Simone slowly turned. Meeting his steady gaze was perhaps the hardest thing she had ever done. She could not bear to think that the esteem he held her in was about to be destroyed. Perhaps forever.
“I am not Simone.”
Not surprisingly he regarded her with wary puzzlement. “What?”
“I am Sally Jenkins.” The words threatened to stick in her throat and she balled her hands at her sides to keep herself from breaking down completely. “Simone was my half sister, although she would never have acknowledged our connection. I was a bastard, you see.”
Oddly there was none of the shock she had expected to see upon his handsome countenance as he gave a slow nod of his head.
“Your father?”
“Lord Hadwell of Devonshire.”
“And your mother?”
“A mere governess of Simone’s. She died when I was born.”
Without warning his hand reached up to lightly touch her near-white cheek.
“I am sorry.”
His obvious sympathy when she had expected anger and recrimination was nearly her undoing and she was forced to bat back the threatening tears.
“It was not so bad while my father lived. He insisted that I be given a home with him and even a measure of schooling with Simone’s new governess.”
He grimaced as he accurately surmised how her presence in the Hadwell home had been received by Lady Hadwell.
“Which no doubt did nothing to endear you to his wife or daughter.”
She could not prevent her shudder at the memory of those wretched years she had spent at the mercy of Lady Hadwell and Simone. No words could express just how evil and vindictive they had been.
“They hated me,” she at last said with simple honesty. “Lady Hadwell called me a disgraceful slut and Simone did everything possible to make my life a misery. Even the servants thought my presence an embarrassment to the household. Only my father ever showed me a hint of kindness.”
The fingers cupped her cheek. “My poor dear.”
Her eyes darkened as she was forced back to those days she had hoped never to recall.
“It only became worse once my father died. I was commanded to become Simone’s maid.”
His features hardened with anger. “I suppose they hoped to humiliate you.”
“Yes.” She gave a humorless laugh. They had more than humiliated her. They had stolen every hope she had harbored for a future untainted by their spite. “And when Simone wed Lord Gilbert I was taken to that horrid house where I was not allowed to speak to anyone but my sister.”
“Bloody hell,” he muttered beneath his breath. “Why did you remain?”
“I had no choice. Simone ensured none of the other servants would help me. And the few occasions I did attempt to flee she made certain I was properly punished.”
“What did she do?”
Simone paused. Never before had she revealed what she had endured at her sister’s hands. It was astonishingly difficult to force the words past her stiff lips.
“She beat me,” she at last managed to admit in harsh tones. “Of course, she beat me for every mistake I made, whether they were real or imagined. But the last occasion ... an infection set in and I nearly died. In truth, I prayed to die.”
His fingers tightened upon her cheek as his gaze darkened to a smoldering ebony.
“Would Lord Gilbert not come to your aid?”
“He was past eighty when they wed and he rarely left his chambers. The only reason Simone wed him was because he was extraordinarily wealthy.”
“And close to death?”
“Precisely.” Simone’s stomach clenched as she recalled her sister’s callous anger when the elderly gentleman continued to cling to life day after day. An anger that she regularly vented on her hapless sister. “She hated living in isolation at the estate and less than six months after his funeral she was packed and prepared to travel to London. She was not about to waste an entire year on mourning a gentleman she barely tolerated.”
“And you came with her?”
“Yes, she was determined that I would witness her grand debut.”
“What happened?”
Simone again hesitated. The trip to London was still a vague fog in her mind. Perhaps because she had no desire to truly ponder what had led to her outrageous charade. Or the undoubted sins that lay heavy on her soul.
She unconsciously wet her dry lips, intensely aware of the dark gaze that watched her every expression.
“We had been upon the road for two days when we were set upon by bandits. They had followed us from the posting inn where we had stayed the night before.”
He sucked in a sharp breath at her words. “You were injured?”
“I suffered a blow to the head that knocked me unconscious when we attempted to flee the villains and the carriage overturned in a ditch. When I awoke ...” Her words broke off and she abruptly buried her face in her hands.
All the horror she had felt when she had managed to drag herself from the carriage rushed back like a physical blow. How many nights had she lain awake recalling the bloody bodies that had been scattered across the road? Even now, months later, it did not seem quite real. More like a persistent nightmare that would not be dismissed.
Moving to place his arms about her, Gideon surrounded her in warm comfort.
“What was it, Simone?”
The strength that he offered her allowed her to slowly raise her head and confront the ghastly memories.
“I ... I climbed out of the carriage to discover that Simone had been shot along with all the servants. Even her dog had been killed.”
“Oh, my sweet,” he breathed softly, “you must have been terrified.”
“It was horrible. I kept going from body to body hoping that I was mistaken. I could not believe they were all dead.”
He ran a comforting hand down her back, his eyes filled with compassion.
“At least you survived.”
“Yes.” More than once she had wondered what fickle fate had kept her from being among the bodies on the road. Was it nothing more than blind luck, or had there been some other purpose? A reason she had been spared? “The bandits must have thought I was already dead.”
“Thank goodness. They obviously did not intend to leave behind witnesses.”
A bleak expression settled upon her pale features. “No. They were very thorough. I lost everyone that I knew in the world on that day.”
Brushing his cheek over Simone’s satin hair, Gideon fought back the violent regret that he could not lay his hands upon those who would dare to harm this woman.
The bandits he could punish at his leisure, but her deeper wounds came from the family that should have loved and cared for her.
To think her own sister would beat her, and treat her with such malicious hatred ...
Bloody hell.
It was a testament to her will that she had survived such a brutal and lonely life. And that she had somehow managed to keep her indomitable spirit intact.
It was a testament to her will that she had survived such a brutal and lonely life. And that she had somehow managed to keep her indomitable spirit intact.
“It must have been terrifying to find yourself alone,” he said softly, wishing to bring her painful memories to a halt and yet realizing that he must have her complete honesty if he were to protect her from Tristan.
A shiver raced through her body. “I did not know what to do or where to go. I suppose I must have been in shock, but at last I realized I was covered in blood from the bodies.” She swallowed heavily. “Absurdly I began ripping off my clothes before I realized that Simone had refused to allow me to bring more than my one gown and a night rail. There was nothing left to do but unpack her trunk and pull on one of her gowns. Do you know, even with her lying there dead I felt terrified at touching her belongings? She would have whipped me unconscious if she had known what I was doing.”
His hands tightened on her back, feeling the rough welts that marred her skin even through the material of her gown. His fury rose like bile as he battled to keep his voice calm.
“You were at last rescued?”
She gave a slow nod of her head, keeping her lashes lowered as if unable to meet his gaze.
“Yes, it was several hours later when a coach finally came by and halted to assist me.”
“You must have been in a panic by then.”
“I believe I must have been out of my mind,” she confessed in uneven tones. “That is the only means to explain what happened next.”
Pulling back, Gideon gently but firmly tilted her chin upward. Peering deep into her troubled eyes he offered her an encouraging smile.
“You can confide in me, my dear.”
She reached out her tongue to wet her lips as she struggled for the courage to continue. Sensitive to her every emotion Gideon silently filled her with his own strength.
“It was a kindly merchant and his wife,” she at last continued, her voice so low that only a vampire could have heard her words. “And when they found me alive and in such fine clothing they presumed that I was Lady Gilbert because of the crest upon the carriage.”
“I see,” he murmured, already suspecting where her story would lead.
“At the time I did not care what they thought as long as I was safe from the bandits.”
“Perfectly understandable.”
Her eyes grew distant as she was once again caught by her memories.
“They took me to their home and arranged to have the bodies returned to the estate to be buried. When they asked me the names of the servants who had been murdered, I said ...”
“That the woman was Sally Jenkins, your stepsister?”
“Yes.” Her eyes closed as if she feared to watch his reaction to her declaration of guilt. “I knew that no one would bother to even open the coffin for a wretched bastard who was disliked by all. My sister would be buried in an unmarked grave and no one would know she was dead.”
“And you would become Simone?”
She gave a reluctant nod of her head as she forced her lashes to lift.
“It is horrid, I know, but the merchant was treating me as if I were a true lady, not some pathetic creature who could expect no more than disdain for having been born.” Perhaps unconsciously her hand lifted to grasp his arm, as if seeking to assure him of her sincerity. “Besides which, I had no money and nowhere to go as Sally Jenkins. I would have been forced to the streets unless I could discover a position, which would have been impossible without a reference. More than likely I would have landed in the nearest brothel if I hoped to survive.”
His brows drew together at the mere thought of this fragile creature being passed among indifferent males as they took their pleasure with her.
“Never,” he retorted, his voice harsh.
She smiled sadly at his obvious outrage. “Some would say it would have been the more admirable choice. Instead I allowed the merchant to continue to believe I was Lady Gilbert and when he offered his carriage to take me to London, I accepted.”
For what he knew of humans, he realized that her choice had been astonishingly bold. Surely most maidens would have been far too terrified to travel to a strange city under the guise of a noblewoman?
“A rather daring adventure. What if you were recognized?” he demanded.
“Actually, London was the perfect choice,” she confessed with a grimace. “Neither Simone nor I had ever visited the city.”
“But surely there are those who knew your sister?”
She gave a lift of one shoulder. “Very few. We were raised quietly in Devonshire, and after the wedding to Lord Gilbert Simone became as trapped as myself at the estate. Lord Gilbert was too ill to entertain or to travel and Simone thought herself too far above the local neighbors to associate with them. Only the servants and villagers would have known her by sight and they would never leave Devonshire. And in truth, Simone and I look a great deal alike. I believe that was one of the reasons she hated me with such passion. Every time she looked at me she could see herself and she detested the knowledge that a mere bastard could resemble her so closely.”
“Yes, I can imagine,” he said dryly, unable to accept that Simone could ever have been as lovely as this woman. Such a black soul would surely have marred any beauty. “Still, it was a risk to boldly act the part of your sister.”
She gave a short, unsteady laugh. “I have discovered that people see what they wish to see.”
Gideon’s own lips twitched in reluctant amusement. He was quite familiar with the gullibility of humans. Not one had questioned his arrival in London, nor his claim of being connected to European royalty. As long as he looked and acted the part the Ton was satisfied.
“True enough.”
“But now ...”
Her eyes darkened as she regarded him with desperation. Gideon was abruptly recalled to the reason she had sought him out in the first place.
“Now Tristan has discovered the truth?”
She gave a slow nod of her head. “I do not know how, but he managed to discover a miniature that had been painted of Simone only a month before Lord Gilbert died. He also knows of Sally Jenkins.”
“He must have traveled to Devonshire,” he murmured, suddenly realizing why the murders had so abruptly halted.
She bit her lip with enough force to draw a drop of blood. It was a revealing gesture of just how distressed she was.
“If he begins spreading gossip that I am not Lady Gilbert the truth is bound to come out. I will be ruined. Perhaps even thrown in prison.”
Gideon reluctantly stepped from her trembling body. He needed to concentrate on Tristan’s latest gambit. An impossible task when he was close enough to feel the silken heat of Simone surrounding him.
He was far too conscious of the large bed directly behind him, and just how easy it would be to scoop her off her feet and onto the mattress. He did not want to think of the renegade vampire or the danger that surrounded Simone. All he desired was to have her in his arms so that he could reveal the untold depths of his need for her.
With an effort he thrust away the dark desires swirling through his body and turned his thoughts to the traitor who was even now waiting to destroy this woman.
“Nothing will happen to you,” he assured her in firm tones.
“But, unless I give him the necklace ...”
“No,” he interrupted sternly. Although he would do anything for this woman, sacrifice his very soul if necessary, he could not allow the Medallion to fall into Tristan’s hands. Not only would the vampires suffer from his demented lust for power, but every human would soon discover fear that they never dreamed possible. Besides, he knew that the moment she no longer possessed the Medallion to protect her, Tristan would do just as he promised. Simone would be dead before she could even attempt to flee. “You must trust me. Can you do that?”
There was a long, tension-filled silence before Simone at last gave a nod of her head.
“Yes.”
Relief, as sharp as a rapier, flared through him, and without considering his actions, Gideon moved forward to place a soft, lingering kiss upon her lips.
He had waited so long for the barriers to be lowered. And after he had revealed the truth he had very much feared that this moment would never come.
How could she ever trust a gentleman who claimed to be a mythic creature she did not even believe in? Or if she did believe, had been taught to fear?
But there was no mistaking the shimmering certainty in her eyes and Gideon felt the heavy despair that had plagued him for the past three days suddenly being lifted from his heart.
With the hope he could someday teach her to love him as he loved her he knew he could face anyone or anything.
Including Tristan.
Pulling back he ran a hand over the soft satin of her hair.
“Go down to the foyer. I will attire myself and collect the carriage.”
“We are going to the brewery?” she demanded.
“Yes. It is time that Tristan and I settle this once and for all.”
“I—” Her words broke off as she regarded him with obvious fear.
“What is it, Simone?” he demanded, before abruptly grimacing as he realized he had used her sister’s name. “I am sorry. That is simply how I think of you.”
Her lips twisted at the irony of becoming the woman she had once hated.
“It is how I think of myself now. It is as if Sally Jenkins never existed. Odd, is it not?”
“No.” He smiled deep into her troubled eyes. “You have become the woman you longed to be using that name.”
“But it is not mine.”
“You have made it your own,” he argued in tones that defied contradiction.
A renegade flare of amusement lightened her taut features at his arrogant assurance.
“I fear others would not share your sentiment.”
He shrugged his unconcern. “What do we care for others?”
She reached up to gently touch his cheek, sending a flare of searing heat through him.
“Gideon, you must promise me that you will be careful.”
The husky concern in her voice made him tumble into love with her all over again. No one had ever felt the need to worry over his safety. He was, after all, immortal. Not to mention far too arrogant for anyone to believe he was in any way vulnerable.
But astonishingly he discovered he very much liked the thought of this woman fussing over him.
He turned his head to press his lips to the palm of her tiny hand.
“I am always careful.”
Her lips thinned at his adamant words. “You may have forgotten the last occasion we were at the brewery, but I assure you that I have not.”
He gave a brief nod of his head at her direct hit. He had stumbled into the brewery blind on the last occasion. This time he would be prepared.
“I will be on guard, I assure you.”
Her fingers tightened upon his cheek as her brows knit together.
“I do not believe I could bear anything to happen to you.”
He lifted his own hand to cover her chilled fingers. “Nothing is going to happen. I will not allow it. Not now that I have discovered you.”
Their gazes entwined as a thick, poignant silence filled the air. Through the bonds that had been woven between them Gideon could feel her pulsing emotions. Fear. Bewilderment. The pain from wounds that had not yet healed. And, through it all was a steady strand of unwavering love that connected her to him as firmly as if they were bound by chains.
“Gideon,” she whispered softly.
He stilled, decidedly awed by the sense of fierce satisfaction that filled his heart. She might not yet have admitted to herself that she belonged to him, but he no longer doubted. It shimmered within her with an unmistakable glow.
Taking her fingers he once again pressed a soft kiss to her palm. He wished to be done with Tristan so that he could concentrate fully on this wonderful, maddening woman.
“We will discuss this later,” he promised in husky tones. “For now, go down to the foyer and await me.”
With a reluctant nod of her head she turned to slip from the room. Gideon paused, forcing himself to take a steadying breath.
For all of his confidence in assuring Simone that all would be well, he was not so foolish as to underestimate Tristan.
Not only did he have the powers of his bloodlust, but he had proven he was willing to use any means, even those forbidden, to achieve his goal. Such desperation made him more dangerous than ever.
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