Clearly, Madam Jupiter didn’t like other women to be seen. I’d heard of other families using whirling maids, but those were jealous wives of husbands with wandering hands. It told me what I needed to know about the woman my father wanted in my life.
The man in front of me opened the same door the maid had left and I shouldered my way in before he could announce me. Clearly, I had startled my father and Madam Jupiter, and a woman who looked to be half the mother’s age, but still her twin.
“Merlin, at last.” My father stepped away from Madam Jupiter smoothly and I snorted. Like I gave a fuck who he dallied with.
“Thank you, Charles,” Madam Jupiter dismissed the butler with a charming smile and allowed my father to introduce us. She held out her hand, as if expecting me to kiss it. Instead, I gripped it, shaking it lamely once, and looked around. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Merlin. Your father has told me much about you.”
“Probably full of shit,” I said, still scanning the room. I saw the loaded buffet table and what I’d prayed for. I ignored her and her daughter, I presumed, and poured myself a large cup of black coffee before leaning against the table and waiting.
I took a deep drink of the bitter liquid to hide my satisfied grin at my father’s expression—his face a concerning color of puce. But the stately woman smiled, unfazed, though her daughter couldn’t hide the flash of disapproval crossing her face.
“Perhaps,” she said, before moving to sit across from her daughter. “He tells me you enjoyed your time studying in London. It is such a magnificent city. I do believe it is my daughter Titania’s favorite to visit.”
“Aside from Paris, of course,” Titania answered, her voice low and husky.
The memory of the woman who called herself the Nightingale came to mind—her voice soft but full-throated without effort. I’d never masturbated so much in one night. Just the memory of her against me, writhing as I teased her, was enough to stir my cock. I shifted, crossing my ankle over the other as I drank.
“Of course,” I agreed. “Though Paris is also full of snobs who don’t give a fuck about anything other than who they’ll fuck next.”
“Merlin!” my father scolded, and I turned to set my mug down. My words had caused even Madam Jupiter to raise an elegantly sculpted eyebrow, and her daughter had a flush to her cheeks.
Another maid entered the room, similar in height and build as the one I’d seen previously, but with the veil, there was no way to know if it was the same woman or not. I had a moment of pity towards the girl but more, I was angry at the family in front of me.
“You wanted me here, I’m here,” I said with a shrug. “Why the fuck should I put on a show? I know you’re trying to marry me off, Pops. They should know I’m not some pinnacle of virtue that you like to front. I’m a bastard that prefers the company of the streets as opposed to the shit-arsed power-hungry climbers in society. I ain’t the company for fancy parties or delicate meetings.” As my father sputtered in outrage, I looked right at Titania. I had to admit the lady was classically attractive, thin, large breasted, high cheekbones, long hair, blue eyes. But she didn’t do shit for me. “You’ve probably been told about how powerful my magics are, I won’t deny it. And even if he cut me off, I’d still be rich as fuck. I’m an asshole who doesn’t put up with fake shit, and I own it. I am who I am, and I ain’t changing for anybody. You want a life in the syndicate? I ain’t the one to give you that and you’re best off knowing that now.”
The woman’s eyes had grown wider with each word I spoke until she did a rather fantastic impression of a gaping fish.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I finished the coffee in a gulp, “I’m late for a meeting. Thanks for the coffee. I’m certain my father will make my apologies, and if you still want to shackle yourself to me for the idea of power and wealth . . .” I shrugged.
I saw the veiled maid standing politely beside the door, her face turned towards the room. The hairs at my nape stood and I fought back a chill down my spine. Somehow, I knew she was looking directly at me. I got the feeling she approved of my words, though fuck if I could explain it, since she looked as still as a statue. I strode towards her and the door, staring where I imagined her eyes were, and nodded politely before leaving.
The only sound following my exit was the echo of my heavy boots on the marble floors. There would be hell to pay from my father later, but I’d let him stew. I pulled out my phone and pulled up Romulus’s contact before firing off a fast text message.
Brom’s in 30? Just threw shit into the fan with my old man.
The lycan’s reply was nearly instant. Whiskey?
I rolled my eyes at the predictable man but headed towards the motorcycle I’d parked across the street from the mansion. I threw my leg over the sleek black machine, seat well-worn from use, and typed out a fast reply.
Course. Let him know?
I kicked the bike to life, the engine roaring between my legs, my hand on the throttle as his message showed up on my screen.
None of your cheap shit, warlock. We have to discuss a little bird tonight.
I shoved the phone in my pocket and toed the bike into gear, a grin on my face as I pulled into traffic.
I think nightingales were my new favorite bird.
Chapter 7
Eleanora
Merlin was a Moitessier. When Hei-Sook warned me about dallying with Syndicate royalty, I didn’t have time to take her that seriously. But after having seen his father with Madam Jupiter and realizing that Moitessier Senior was willing to broker a marriage between his only son and Titania . . . my heart raced as I braced myself in the bathroom to which I’d fled after being dismissed from the parlor. His father had erupted into a storm of rage at Merlin’s verbal spewage and Madam Jupiter all but chased me and Titania out of the room while the woman tried to soothe the master warlock’s rage.
Titania hadn’t realized I was the maid, apparently lacking the same talent of detection held by her mother, and dismissed me the moment we were alone in the hall together. I had wanted to stay and press my ear to the door, to learn what I could from my stepmother but it appeared my stepsister had the same intentions and would not abide my presence. So, instead, I returned downstairs and then sought refuge alone.
Seeing Merlin in the hall had thrown me, but then listening to him declare himself unsuitable for Madam Jupiter’s schemes was fantastic. I had never seen someone defy her in such a casual yet steadfast manner. I pressed my hand against my chest as the image of him leaning so casually against the buffet sideboard, his attire in stark contrast to the elegant outfits that everyone else had worn, made my heart race. I had thought he’d been gruffly handsome last night, the only one of the three whom I’d seen their face, but today—he was devastatingly attractive.
I knew how Titania would describe him—unimpressed with how he looked, as if he’d rather prowl the streets at night instead of attend state dinners. Perhaps she required elegancy and perfect attire, but I wanted to walk up to him and scrape my nails through his thick beard before peeling that large coat off of him. I let my eyes drift closed as I remembered the feeling of his muscles pressed against my back, his large hands coaxing pleasure from my body and his hot breath against my neck. A whimper escaped me as I pressed my legs together, wishing I had the chance to approach him, to press myself against him once more.
But it would never happen, not while he thought I was a maid of Madam Jupiter’s. Even when he’d looked at me as he’d left the room, his dark eyes searching my veil, his head nodding with respect—more attention than any other guest had ever shown me, I had wanted to throw myself at him. I knew, though, that’d he’d cast me away—unknowing of the pain he’d cause. And so I’d held myself still until my stepmother barked out a dismissal.
Someone banged on the door and startled me out of my thoughts. I quickly flushed the empty toilet and washed my hands before checking my veil. I opened the door before they could knock again and saw it was the butler, Charles.
>
“Yes?” I asked, keeping my voice even. Technically, as a member of the family, he could not punish me, and I knew it goaded him. He was the type of man who clung to any straws of power he was afforded. He’d often told me of how he wished he could beat me with a cane as he did with other staff who regularly displeased him. I knew my boundaries though, and respected him only enough to prevent him from going to my stepmother with a true complaint.
“Bonnie needs your assistance with Miss Beatrice concerning her wardrobe for this evening,” Charles informed me, but did not move to let me pass.
“I shall attend her at once, then,” I said, and made to step around him. I glared through my veil at him when he moved to block me.
“I saw your little stunt in the hall with Master Moitessier, girly.” His voice dropped low. “You will not ruin this for Miss Titania, do you understand?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, shoving past him. I should have known he’d have recognized me. But his hand clamped down on my arm, jerking me back towards him even as I cried out in surprise.
He looked down at me in a way that made my flesh crawl and I tried to wrench myself away from him. I knew what the other maids had said of his wandering hands, how he’d demanded other forms of discipline and repentance from the girls when he’d accused them of misdeeds. He was vile, though a coward.
“You will not be protected forever, Eleanora.” He sneered my name as I vibrated with anger. “And I look forward to the day that I can give you all that you deserve.”
I ripped away from him, drawing myself up to my full height, and glared at him—though I knew it was hidden by the veil. I considered ripping it off, before knowing he’d tell my stepmother of the infraction.
“You are mistaken, Charles,” I said, infusing my words with as much haughty disgust as I could. “You take me to be your victim but I am not. I am Eleanora Bediver, the heir of Thaddius Bediver, and if you ever lay a hand on me, you will suffer such pain beyond your comprehension.”
His face paled, though his eyes filled with anger. I turned and strode away, my head held high, before he could respond. When I turned the corner, I collapsed against the wall for support, adrenaline coursing through me as I shook. I covered my face with my hands, slipping my fingers under the veil to scrub away the angry tears I felt forming. I refused to cry because of that man.
I dragged in shuddering, calming breaths and stood up once more before making my way to Beatrice’s room two flights above.
When I walked through the open door to my stepsister’s bedroom, I was surprised to see it in such disarray.
“Ah, there you are, Eleanora,” Bonnie said as she knelt before Beatrice, sewing pins in her hands. Bonnie was the only woman who was not required by Madam Jupiter to remain veiled on account of her age and position. “Come here and help me.”
I hurried over to her, helping her hold the silken fabric up so that Bonnie could add a bustle button.
“Hello, Ella,” Beatrice greeted softly, looking in the mirror before her to see me.
“Beatrice.” I returned the greeting with a smile on my face. She wouldn’t be able to see it, but I knew she’d be able to hear it.
Beatrice was not nearly as cruel to me as Titania or their mother. Perhaps it was because she often found herself on the wrong side of Titania’s anger. Where Titania was her mother’s twin, Beatrice looked much like her father and it was as if Madam Jupiter disapproved.
“You are quite lucky that you aren’t being forced to be paraded around at this ball,” Beatrice complained, not realizing how privileged she sounded. “They’re all so stuffy and boring. And Mother won’t let me anywhere near the food, even though it looks delicious.”
I bit my lip as I realized that no one had invited her to the party which had raged below those “stuffy and boring” guests. Still, she seemed to be waiting for a response. “Did you enjoy it otherwise?”
She shrugged, unable to stand still while we adjusted her dress and forcing us to move around her. “It seemed that everyone was old, honestly. I hardly met any young people. I swear, Mother better not arrange a marriage for me with some ancient vampire or something.”
I thought of Brom and I dropped the threads Bonnie had handed me. The housekeeper hissed at me and I scrambled to pick them up, hoping they hadn’t escaped their needles.
“I heard that Mother may have found a husband for you, no matter how obscene Titania was about it,” she carried on, looking down at me. “I think she’s just jealous that you might be married before her.”
“I do not think many men would be interested in having me for a wife, Bea,” I answered, my voice thick with unshed tears. Would Brom have taken me in his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, thrusting against me the way he had, if he’d seen my face?
“You cannot expect to live in this household forever, Ella,” Beatrice chided me, with no understanding of what dagger of pain she drove into my gut. “Certainly your dowry is attractive enough? And the legacy of your father certainly will find you a willing husband. Mother simply has to keep looking. I know she wants to see you wed.”
Bonnie glanced over at me, her eyes narrow with concern. I shook my head once and she grimaced. I shook my head again and she returned to her work with a harrumph. “Go collect the dresses Miss Beatrice has rejected.”
I stood, placing a hand on her shoulder in quiet thanks for the escape.
“Shall I return these to your wardrobe, Bea?” I asked as I collected the expensive gowns. Yards of rich, vibrant jewel-toned fabrics were soft against my skin as I ran my fingers over the delicate gossamer embroidery.
“Oh, those?” She looked over her shoulder, pulling her thick dark curls over her shoulder to toy with the ends. “Those can actually be tossed. They’re from last year and Mother would kill me if I wore them to anywhere important this year. Plus they’re too small for me now.” My stepsister sighed as she ran her hand over her plump stomach. She certainly wasn’t fat by any means, but when you were the daughter of Madam Jupiter, you certainly must feel like it. “Maybe Mother is right. I’ll stick to the champagne tonight.”
“Very well,” I said, an idea forming in my head. I looked over at Bonnie, who was slowly rising, inspecting her work. “I shall take care of these, Bonnie. Do you have any further need?”
The housekeeper looked over at me and then to the dresses draped over my arm carefully, a knowing glint in her eye.
“No, thank you, Eleanora,” she said, dismissing me. “Please return downstairs to work on your tailoring project for this evening. I expect the base to be completed before I attend to the finer needlework.”
“Certainly, Bonnie,” I said with a bow. I had no previous tailoring assignment, which meant Bonnie intended to help me prepare a new gown for that evening. Beatrice, completely unaware of the opportunity she’d just afforded me, waved through the mirror as I left her room.
Merlin had thwarted Madam Jupiter once already today . . . perhaps, if Brom and Romulus were as powerful as the fox spirit had claimed, I had found the help I required. Another feeling caused my heart to twist and my cheeks to heat—but I told myself I was only excited to seek out them again that night to escape and find my freedom at last.
Chapter 8
Brom
The amber liquid refracted the warm light from the elegant chandelier hanging from the high ceiling of my penthouse. It gave it an aesthetic that reminded me of the decadence of fresh blood, ripe with power for absorbing. The legends about vampires were only partially correct. Blood gave us our power, and we enjoyed many different cuisines. Those lower in vampire society were forced to feed more frequently, giving birth to the legends of brutality.
I would need to feed soon, though my power did not wane like others, but after last night I knew that only one person’s blood would satisfy me. I had been so close to plunging my fangs into her neck, wanting it as badly as I wanted to plunge my cock into her. Instinct told me she wanted the same, and I closed my eye
s as I remembered how it had felt to have her climaxing in my arms, Romulus and Merlin pressed up against her.
The lovely nightingale had drawn three predators in, not recognizing the dangers we posed to her. No other woman, magical or not, had affected the three of us so. Was it because of the anonymity provided by the masks and her false name? I have had my share of lovers and blood-sluts, male and female, and yet . . . just the memory of her delicate flesh against my fangs had my cock hard. That unfamiliar height of desire was why I had not joined them immediately dancing, and even when I had thought myself under control, the moment she was in my arms I’d nearly lost myself to her.
But Romulus had fucked it up for us; though I could not entirely blame him—I, too, longed to see her face, to watch her as she writhed with pleasure between us.
“Helen of Troy.” The lycan’s voice was quiet but in the still room, he could have whispered and I would have heard him.
“Wotcher?” Merlin asked him, and the redheaded man looked up and between us.
“She could be our Helen of Troy,” he said again, his expression showing his struggle with articulating his thoughts. “Why else would she have run when I tried to take off her mask?”
“I reckon she weren’t too keen on you taking off her mask at a fucking masquerade,” Merlin said before he drained his own tumbler of whiskey.
“Shove off, Mer,” Romulus retorted before looking to me. “Seriously, though, Brom. Our families are wary enough of our friendship as it is. Technically we are political rivals. What if one of them put her in our path, hoping we’d fight over her?”
“Who would you suggest?” I asked, unable to entirely discount the man’s suggestion. But he could only shrug as he rolled his glass between his hands.
Beautiful Secrets: The Complete Trilogy Page 4
