by Lora Edwards
It was Carnevale, and the Queen of France, Catherine de’ Medici, was visiting her family. It made sense why the countess was so interested in returning to that time as, according to both Victoria and Victor, Catherine and the countess were fast friends. That also rang true for Armand as the two women had similar interests and were not above being cruel to get what they wanted. Both women were also powerful witches.
Victoria swept down the staircase, her slippered feet whispering against her dress. She walked confidently, used to the many layers required in the dress of this time.
“Armand, I really didn’t miss this.” She gestured to the dress she wore. “The modern clothes are so much more freeing.”
“I was just thinking the same myself. You do look lovely.” He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. They had put their romance on hold while the others had been there. Victoria had much on her mind and had been busy learning to fight, developing her magic, and just enjoying being around her friends. They had taken a few walks in the moonlight, but there had not been time for much romancing. Carnevale in Venice was a romantic setting, and he would try to squeeze in some romance around catching the countess.
“I have missed you. As much as I enjoyed spending time with my friends and honing my skills, I missed being with you.” She reached up on her toes and planted a soft kiss on his lips.
Armand grinned; it was the first time she had initiated any kind of affection. Maybe the inability to be together had given her the time and space to think.
“Enough of that—we have a countess to find and stop,” Victor grumbled, tugging at the collar of his doublet. “Can I tell you how much I hate wearing these things? Once you have experienced modern clothing, it is hard to go back to all of this.” He waved his hand at his outfit.
Armand and Victoria immediately started laughing, and Victor narrowed his eyes at them.
“What are you laughing at? I can’t possibly look as stupid in this outfit as I feel, and the two of you are dressed the same way.”
Victoria caught her breath, shaking her head and then looking at the frown on Victor’s face, which made her begin to giggle again in earnest.
Armand got ahold of himself first and answered Victor. “It is not your attire, my friend. It is that we had the exact same conversation before you appeared. It seems as old as all of us are, we enjoy the creature comforts and freedom of the modern era.”
Victor just nodded, eyeing them strangely. They were looking at each other, grinning like fools, and it caused an ache in his heart for just one moment. Unlike Armand, even during his hermit days, Victor didn’t shun the attention of the ladies. He had his choice wherever he went, supernatural or human, and usually indulged whenever the whim struck him. He saw that what they had was special, and for a moment, he wished he had something special as well. He shook the thought away and followed them into the mirrored room to travel back to 1500s Venice. He just needed some female companionship, and he was going to Carnevale, after all, so it wouldn’t be hard to find someone to warm his bed there. That would solve this itch he was having, and he would no longer have thoughts of longing for what Victoria and Armand had. He couldn’t imagine being stuck with one woman for the rest of eternity. He shuddered at the thought and followed the others through the mirror.
“I sent a message ahead and have a villa rented out for us. We are posing as wealthy English nobles come over as emissaries from the English king.”
“Not much of a stretch considering you were once a member of the royal court of England.”
“Really?” Victoria looked at Armand with fresh eyes.
“It was a long time ago. In my memory in this time, I am there now.”
“Is that going to be a problem, having two of you at the same point in the timeline?”
“No. Technically there are two of all of us in this timeline as we were all undead at this point in history. It will be fine as long as we are not in England and don’t run into ourselves—that would be catastrophic.”
“I was being held captive by the countess. I had made an escape attempt and distracted her. She completely forgot her plans to attend this Carnevale, and I paid for it,” Victoria said quietly.
“I was in Transylvania chasing a lead on the countess that didn’t pan out.” Victor smiled sadly at Victoria.
She squeezed his hand; it was not his fault.
“And as mentioned, I was in England, an emissary of the court of Henry VIII and running the institute, so we should be in the clear.”
They strode out of the warehouse that housed the small institute outpost in Venice in that time. People looked up from their work and then down again; strange people coming and going were common, so they paid no mind.
“Armand, sir, it is a pleasure to serve you and your companions.” A tall thin man came scurrying up to them, bowing and scraping.
Victor looked over at Victoria, who rolled her eyes while she stifled a laugh.
Armand took it in stride. For these people, meeting the head of the institute was like meeting the president, and some people acted strangely. He was just glad to know he engendered such loyalty from his followers.
“We have a coach waiting to take you to your rented villa. The house is fully staffed from the institute and they are all aware that you and the others are from the future.” The man fidgeted in place, smiling nervously.
“Thank you, Antonio. Your help is greatly appreciated. It is people like you that help the institute be what it is.” Armand patted the man on the shoulder, gesturing for Victor and Victoria to follow him out the front doors to the waiting coach.
Victor smirked as they settled into it. “I think that man wet himself when you told him he did a good job. I don’t know how you do it, all the bowing and scraping.” Victor rolled his eyes, causing Victoria to giggle again.
“It was a bit over the top, but I felt for the poor man. He was very nervous.”
“You called him by name—that was impressive.”
Armand gave her a wry smile. “It was included at the end of the letter that told me the villa was set up and they were ready for us. It is not possible for me to know everyone that works for the institute. It has grown into a vast network of hubs and outposts, as you well know.”
Victoria grinned. Until she had helped to unveil the countess’s activities in Bath during the previous mission, Armand had only known her as Victoria, the lady’s maid who worked at the manor house of the Draconus family, the cover for the institute in 1888. It was only after she had revealed she knew who was causing the murders of humans and had been kidnapped once again by the countess that he became aware of her real identity.
“It was kind of you to greet him by name. How you treat your people reveals your character.”
Armand just nodded, uncomfortable with the compliment, as always. They spent the rest of the ride to the villa in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Eventually the coach jolted to a stop, the door opened, and the liveried footman let them out onto the crushed gravel road. The stone villa towered above them as they made their way through the front portico to the wooden front doors. Armand led them inside and Victoria stared at the opulence. Her slippered feet walked slowly over the red and cream mosaic floor into a grand basilica. She lifted her eyes up to the elaborate fresco depicting nymphs frolicking in a colorful garden. “Sirs and miss, I am Stefano. I will be the butler for your stay. There is some business to attend to and then we will get you settled.”
Armand nodded and Stefano led them to a sitting room. Victoria settled on one of the upholstered walnut benches, smoothed out her skirts, and folded her hands in her lap. Victor and Armand sat in a pair of carved armchairs on either side of the bench.
“You have been given an invitation to the ball at the palace and a few invitations to parties of other prominent members of the aristocracy. I would suggest, if I may, that you attend these, as it is likely that the one you seek will also be in attendance. It is also customary
for you to hold your own Carnevale party. Not to be forward, but signorina, will you be spearheading that venture?” The butler looked at Victoria.
Before she could respond, Armand nodded, and the butler continued with the other news. Victoria stopped listening—she was to plan a Carnival party, and the idea thrilled her. She had planned many parties during her time with the countess, and it was one of the few things she remembered fondly. Armand had given her a task, something to focus on, and she was grateful.
“Signorina, if you will follow me, I will show you to your rooms.”
Victoria stood, startled from her musings. “Of course.” She followed the butler to a suite, and upon her entering, a young lady bowed her head. “I am Evangeline, and I will be your lady’s maid.”
“Evangeline, I am Victoria, and there is no reason to bow and scrape to me. Not too long ago, I worked as a lady’s maid for the institute myself. If you can help me out of this dress, it would be much appreciated.” Victoria smiled warmly at the girl.
“Of course.” The two women chatted as Victoria took off the heavy garment and donned her hoodie and leggings, smiling at the shock on the other woman’s face upon seeing the modern clothing. She remembered a time when she had looked askance at Teagan’s clothing as well.
“Do not worry, Evangeline, I will not be wearing them out of this room.”
“I should hope not. Do people in modern times dress so scantily in front of others?”
“Yes, and in much less than what I am wearing. It was a proper shock for me the first time I saw it.”
“I would imagine so. If there is anything else you need, please feel free to ring the bell. I will be back to help you dress for dinner.”
“Thank you, Evangeline.” Victoria watched as the woman swept out the door.
Sighing, she looked around the cavernous room. Her bed was hung with heavy deep red velvet curtains attached to the carved mahogany four-poster frame. Heavy tapestries hung on the stone walls and a fire burned merrily in the stone fireplace with two wooden scissor chairs flanking the hearth.
She would spend her time before dinner curled up with a good book. She took her current read out of her satchel, bypassed the beautiful but uncomfortable wooden chairs by the fireplace, and curled up on the velvet cover of her bed. She had learned so far on this mission to take the downtime when it came, as those times were often few and far between.
Chapter 34
Victoria sighed as she swept down the stairs; being dressed in all the heavy layers again was taking some getting used to. It was a very pretty dress, but she missed pants. She had all but made up her mind to continue in the modern time period. She had friends there, and in her short time at the institute, she had built a life with them. The idea of returning to 1888 and the staid existence she had led there was almost as bad as imprisonment with the countess. Now that she knew all this was available, she couldn’t imagine going back to the old life she’d led.
She shook the thoughts out of her head; there would be time to deal with that when the countess was no longer a danger. She stepped down off the last step and walked down to the opulent dining hall.
Three place settings had been laid out on the long wooden table, and amazing smells wafted in from the kitchen.
“This is a problem—apparently no one told the staff they would be entertaining three of the undead.”
Victoria tried not to giggle at the weary look on Armand’s face. It must have been hard to be the one putting out fires all the time, and it must have felt good to be able to hand the reins over to Bran.
“I will go speak to the staff. They are members of the institute so there shouldn’t be any screaming or running away from the scary vampires. You would think they would know their own director is a vampire,” he muttered to himself as he strode out of the dining room and down the hall to the kitchens.
Victoria sat down in one of the high-backed chairs and waited. Soon a loud boom sounded from the kitchen and a stream of angry Italian ensued. Victoria laughed to the empty room. Apparently the chef was none too happy to know his considerable talents were going to waste.
“A beautiful woman laughing—that is a sight a man could get used to seeing.” Victor smiled as he entered the dining room but then frowned at the place settings. “Are we expecting company for dinner?”
She opened her mouth to answer but just then another stream of Italian exploded from the kitchen.
“Ahhh, I see—a misunderstanding.” Victor chuckled as he sat across from Victoria. “Armand is handling it, I suppose?”
“Yes, but it does not appear to be going well.”
Armand walked back into the room looking harried. “As I am sure you heard, the chef is not exactly thrilled at not having been told we are not of the eating variety. I have appeased him by contacting Mrs. Bloom and her staff. They are scheduled to come tomorrow to finish up our Carnevale costumes, but they will be joining us tonight. Chef is thrilled he will have ‘people to feed’,” Armand explained, using air quotes. He dropped into a chair and glared at Victor’s chuckles and the wide grin on Victoria’s face. “It is this type of institute business that I will not miss when this mission is over.”
“You say that now, my friend, but what will you do with your time? You are not one to be able to sit idle.”
Victoria blushed at the quick glance Armand threw her way before he replied, “I am not sure yet of all the details. There has been talk of a grand tour, but I can tell you I am ready for a different kind of adventure.”
“Hello my lovelies, are we all ready for Carnevale?” Mrs. Bloom’s cheery voice rang out, saving Armand from further conversation.
Victor winked at Victoria, and she looked away. What would he have said if the conversation had continued? Was she part of his next great adventure?
“Victoria, dear, I have such grand ideas for your costume—maybe more than one. Hmmm…we can’t have you seen in the same outfit twice. It just wouldn’t do.”
Victoria smiled at Mrs. Bloom; her excitement was contagious. Shoving thoughts of Armand and the future to the back of her mind, Victoria let the woman’s cheerful chatter whisk her away to thoughts of color, cuts, and fabrics.
Victoria turned one way and then another, enjoying the feel of the skirt swishing against her legs. She much preferred modern dress—jeans, pants, and skirts she could move freely in—but there was something to be said for a gown such as this, one that was beautiful and impractical. She twisted, taking in the wide full skirt of royal blue brocade with puffed upper sleeves attached to tight-fitting cream velvet long sleeves. She lightly touched the square neckline of the fitted bodice edged with handmade cream lace. “Mrs. Bloom, you have outdone yourself. It is just beautiful.”
“It came to me in a dream, if you would believe it. I saw you and Armand dancing in a ballroom, you wearing this exact dress. Possibly it will bring you luck on the mission.” Mrs. Bloom stepped onto the dais where Victoria stood to pull and fuss at the front of the dress until it sat just as she wished. Before she pulled back, she whispered in Victoria’s ear: “And love.”
Victoria felt her face heat, the pale skin of her cheeks turning pink.
“There is nothing better than a beautiful woman with a blush lighting her face. What, may I ask, caused such a pretty color?” Armand lifted an eyebrow, looking from Victoria to Mrs. Bloom.
Victoria blushed harder, and Mrs. Bloom looked over at Armand with an assessing eye. “I have your costume prepared as well. Would you slip behind the screen and make sure it is to your specifications?”
Armand looked at each lady again. Mrs. Bloom had smoothly changed the subject, and he suspected he had been their topic of conversation judging by the glow of Victoria’s cheeks. It filled him with a warmth and made him hope, hope that she felt the same way as he and that when it was time for him to ask her to be his future, she would accept.
For now he would wait, and when there was time, he would court her a bit at a time. He had lived a long life a
nd had the patience of the ancient. He would bide his time, and when the moment was right, he would ask her to be his.
Chapter 35
Victoria sighed as she slumped down in her chair, the book she had been attempting to read falling into her lap. She was acting like some besotted school girl. She couldn’t get thoughts of Armand out of her mind. She knew he was attracted to her, could feel the spark between them each time they were together, but was that all it was, simply heat and spark? He was handsome—there was no doubt about that—but he was also kind and intelligent. She treasured their conversations as much as she did the stolen kisses they had shared. She felt she had found someone who understood all the parts of her, someone she could spend her life with. When the mission was over, she would throw aside her Victorian sensibilities and embrace the modern woman she wanted to become by telling him of her feelings. In the meantime, she would enjoy the time she spent with him and let the rest wait until the time was right.
A crash sounded, causing her to jump out of her chair. It was followed by cursing and another crash. Her heart jumped into her throat as she flew across the room, yanked open the door, and hurried down the stairs toward the source of the commotion.
She passed a few of the staff huddled in the hallway, frightened looks in their eyes.
“Ladies, what is happening?”
The women looked at Victoria, shuddering. “The master is angry.”
Victoria frowned and continued on toward the study, her heartbeat slowing to a stop. It was not the countess or her minions; they weren’t under attack, but from the sound of it, Armand had not received good news.
Victoria opened the door to the study and quickly stepped out of the way as a glass decanter sailed past her head and shattered against the wall, the scent of whiskey filling the air.
