Striding from the room, he grabbed his silver half mask, fixing it in place. Banging the door shut, he turned the key. While most rooms where available for his guests to use at their pleasure, and their fornication if they chose, some rooms were off limits, and he held the master key to them all. Not far away was his bedroom where he planned to take Amelia in his arms, undress her and finally join them as one.
Pausing at the banister, he looked down to the throng of people milling below in the foyer. Liveried servants were collecting cloaks and serving Champagne, but it was the guests who were the most intriguing. Among the rainbow of colours – jewel brights in satins, velvets and lace – there were masks of every variety from the impish Harlequin to elaborate feathered numbers. Amid them all stood his heart’s desire. Amelia. And damn his brother is she wasn’t curling her arm under his James’ who was smiling down at her under his angel half-mask.
He had waited a lifetime for her, and he wasn’t about to lose her to his own brother. For the first time in centuries, Jeremy found himself in competition with James and he didn’t like it one bit.
Chapter Three
James tucked Amelia’s arm through his own, smiling down at her. He didn’t need to look up to know his older brother was staring at them, his face no doubt etched with undisguised anger. So Jeremy had been beaten to the punch? That’s what happened when one spent more time pacing and brooding and less time doing. The latter was James’ forte. Pursuit had always intrigued him, though he had a shallow tendency to cast aside the pretty fish he reeled in. Not this time, not once he’d realised Amelia could be the one to capture his heart, not just satisfy his needs.
“Have we met, my lady?” James asked as suited his guise of a stranger, wondering if she saw through his mask as easily as he saw through hers. The glittering jewels and delicate mask were no camouflage for her true self, though her assumed moniker amused him no end. It sounded deliciously sinful, just as it should for the Masquerade.
“I couldn’t say,” Amelia smiled in response. “Isn’t that the point?”
“I heard you announced as Lady Wicked. What a very… fiendish name.”
Amelia giggled, a girlish, sweet sound that contrasted with her impious persona. “That is what I chose to call myself this evening. And you, sir?”
“I am incognito. I have no name.”
“No name, sir?” She feigned surprise. “Whatever shall I call you?”
“Darling sounds fine.”
There was her coquettish laugh again, the one that tugged at his heart strings. At first he had sought her out through interest that another of their kind might exist. It was curiousity he told himself as he made her acquaintance one summer’s eve, purely scientific. Throughout their years, he and Jeremy had never chanced upon another. Decades had been spent ruminating that perhaps they were the only ones, some strange quirks of fate, or something in their blood that kept common human afflictions at bay, not to mention aging and death.
Of course, antagonising his brother was a fun side effect of his acquaintance with Amelia. His brother chose to watch her from afar, never meeting, not unless it was under the auspices of the Masquerade.
James watched as his brother fell in love with a woman he barely knew. He suspected that Jeremy intended to make Amelia his tonight, to bind them together forever.
The problem was that the idea made James inextricably angry. Sure, he was a skirt-chaser and a rogue, and he’d never thought himself one to settle down, certainly not with one woman, not even when he was mortal. Maybe it was because his heart had been walled away from loss for so long that it had hardened.
Yet, Amelia was unknowingly chiseling away at his defences and he was thinking of giving himself over to surrender. It wasn’t just that she was destined to live the long life that he was, it was that she utterly captivated him from her sharp wit to her delicate laugh, to the beauty she commanded. He wanted her. Lifetimes of love, passion, and her companionship was something he couldn’t selflessly give up, even for his brother.
“You are contemplative. Are you unwell?” Amelia’s voice startled him out of his reverie, not that she could see under his mask. He’d thought it funny to have it fashioned as though an angel, but now he wondered if somehow, subconsciously, that was how he wanted Amelia to see him: her rescuer.
“I am well, thank you.” He darted a glance upwards, searching for Jeremy, but his brother had vanished from his viewpoint at the banister. One quick look to the right confirmed his suspicion: Jeremy was making his way down the stairs, intent etched all over his unmasked jaw.
Quickly, James sidestepped the carousing guests and led Amelia through the ballroom where the orchestra was strumming a lively waltz, a dance that had only just been introduced. James had instructed the orchestra to play several waltzes tonight, the intimate dance fitting in with the bawdy theme. Until this year, dancing had been a chaste act, with little touching between the sexes and conducted in large groups so there would be danger of impropriety. The waltz, however, required the close contact between man and woman, a single couple whirling in an intimate pairing as if alone. It was a touch scandalous and therefore quickly favoured by the young men and women who strained under perpetual social morals.
Amelia gasped, her gloved hand covering her bowed mouth, as the dancers swept past. Looking down James as amused to find her eyes bright, no sign of a blush at all. Perhaps she was racier than he had given her credit.
“I’ll show you the steps,” James offered, surprising himself. “Later, perhaps?” He lifted two Champagne flutes from a passing waiter’s tray and pressed one into her hand.
“Come and see the terrace. The stars are abundant here.” He didn’t wait for an answer, instead steering her towards the open doors leading outside, casting a glance over his shoulder to see where his brother was. He saw Jeremy enter the ballroom, just as they stepped outside and away into the shadows of the house. It seemed mean, traitorous even, to sidestep his brother, but James was determined.
Amelia crossed the terrace, resting her hands on the stone balustrade. “How pretty,” she breathed as she looked out over the carefully cultivated rose gardens then up towards the dark velvet sky glistening with stars.
“I like it.”
“Aha!” She clung on to his words. “I’m afraid your identity is revealed, sir.”
“Is it?”
Her next words were cockily assured. “You are one of the Hamiltons.”
“I shall neither confirm nor deny.”
“How infuriating.” She turned away. “I’m sure we have spoken before, but I’m unsure. Still, I’ll wager you are the younger of the brothers.”
“You are quite certain?”
“Yes, I am.”
“And what if you were right?”
“What if I am?” Amelia countered. As she turned to look up at him, her gold mask lit in the moonlight, James stepped closer, his hands sliding over her bare upper arms, closing the space between them. She tipped her chin up towards him, searching his unguarded eyes with hers. He bent his head slowly, giving her time to flee, but she didn’t, instead raising herself on tiptoes as his mouth brushed hers. Then her lips were parting, allowing his tongue to dart inside and find hers, and he was crushing her to his body, her hands winding around his brocade-clad back.
Kissing her made him feel dizzy, like he was losing part of himself, and the longer he kissed her, the more he felt he had been lost and was only now coming home. Breaking apart, breath laboured, James stared down at her, wondering at this new connection he felt, wondering if she felt it too.
It wasn’t until his shoulder was being grasped in a large hand, pulling him backwards and off balance that he realised they had been seen. Not that most guests would care. They would probably just wonder why he hadn’t lifted her onto the balustrade, pulled up her skirts and had his way with her. A few years ago, with any willing mortal he would have, but not Amelia. He wanted her, and not just for a quick screw. The problem was his assailant kn
ew that too.
“What the hell are you doing?” shouted Jeremy, his fists balled, his face hidden behind his mask.
James readied his fighting stance, knowing a flying fist would be next, but the soft rip of a sob made him turn back to Amelia… except she was gone, her soft slippers flying across the terrace, down the stone steps, her skirts fluttering as she fled into the dark garden. “Amelia!” James shouted, as she slipped away into the shadows. “Look what you’ve done.” He shoved Jeremy with both hands, not even gratified when his brother stumbled back. “You’ve frightened her!”
Chapter Four
Fleeing into the garden, her heart pounding, Amelia found herself lost among the flower beds. Fragrance drifted the air from night flowering flora, creating a heady scent that added to her confusion. Finally she found herself at the wall that surrounded the perimeter and she stumbled along it, one hand grazing the cool brick until she came upon a stone seat set into an arch in the wall. Climbing roses trailed around it, forming a living canopy. Tucking her feet under herself, she hugged her knees, she concealed herself there.
The kiss had surprised her, but not as much as the sudden rush she had felt as their tongues entwined. It was like she had recognised a kindred spirit…except there was no such person as kindred to her. She was alone, had always been alone, and would always be alone. That was her curse.
Sweeping a gloved finger over her lips she wondered at the strange connection she now felt to this man. She had been positive he was one of the brothers, most likely James but she couldn’t be certain? And why did she feel the urge to run back to him, to search him out and allow him to steal another kiss?
It was like something mystical and amazing had happened in that moment. Her blood had been pounding, her breasts heaving against her silk bodice, as the connection whipped through them. She had the uncomfortable feeling that she should recognise whatever it was that just happened but instead she found herself wavering like a child, uncertain of what to do next.
“I’ve found you.” The man approaching her heaved a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shadows cast down by the wall. “Why did you run away?”
Swinging her legs down, Amelia smoothed her skirts so that they flowed over her ankles as was proper for this era while the man continued, “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Please forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive. I was not frightened.” Her voice bore trace of confusion though.
“Then why did you run?” The man knelt in front of her, his eyes boring into hers through their masks. She reached forward, her hand cupping his bare chin and brought her mouth to his, relishing the feel of his warm lips. As the kiss deepened, she found herself pulled down next to him, his kiss growing more ardent as she pressed her body to his. There was that connection again, circling them, rushing through her veins and they broke away gasping.
“You feel it too?” she whispered.
Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps made the man jump to his feet. Rising to her own feet, she peeked from behind him as another masked man approached.
“You found her?” the man questioned. When she stepped out from behind, he halted, looking questioningly from her to the man. “Jeremy?” he asked, his angel mask glowing under the moonlight.
She slid away to stand on her own, somewhere in the middle of the two, but apart as she realised her mistake. With similar builds and masks they had been easy to confuse so she had kissed not one man, but two tonight and the connection she had felt… she had felt with both. Two in one night, and never before in her long life, she thought in wonder.
“What are you?” she whispered into the night as both men ceased their angry standoff, turning to her.
“Not here,” said the men as one.
James, she thought it was, added, “The summerhouse. We can talk there.”
Both held a hand to her. She looked from one to the other, closed her eyes and took them both, her gloved hands sliding into their larger, warm ones, fingers lacing together. Either side of her, they shadowed her as they directed her to a concealed door in the wall not far from where they stood. Jeremy produced a large key and unlocked it, then they were through and running across the grounds to the summerhouse hidden in the oak trees.
It was exhilarating, running under the stars, two men holding her and sweeping her on until she felt like they were flying across the grass, the ribbons of her mask fluttering behind them.
Stumbled into the summerhouse together, Amelia found herself pressed between two firm, male bodies. Strangely she did not want to move. She wanted them to continue pressing either side of her, to feel the heat of both their bodies as they folded her into their embrace. She kissed the man in front of her first, Jeremy she thought, her tongue melding with his as he returned her kiss without reserve. When she felt the man at her back step away, she broke the kiss, turned and reached, curving her hand around James’ neck. He hesitated until she stood on tiptoes and kissed him. Behind her, Jeremy’s body was a powerful reminder of the connection she felt with both.
When she and James broke away, she was blushing, suddenly aware of how she was behaving. She had never been so forward, never felt so wanton in her life, yet there was something about these two men that called to her, that drove her to them. Either one of them would have been perfect; choosing would be impossible.
What if she didn’t have to?
The thought hit her like a bolt of lightning, frightening, exciting and utterly dazzling. For one night only she was someone else, her true self, and she could do whatever she pleased. If she felt a connection through just a kiss, if she felt this connected through their mere proximity to her, how would it feel if they were closer still? She knew then that there was another option.
“Take off your masks,” she whispered into the moonlit room.
Chapter Five
The instant Amelia kissed him Jeremy knew she was absolutely, irrevocably the woman he had hoped for. Unlike the kisses they had shared before, he felt the kiss in the garden bind them, lacing them together, felt the recognition of another of his kind without hesitation though he had never known an immortal woman before. Suddenly the long stretch of his never-ending life ahead didn’t seem so cruel, so awful, if only he could have her in it.
When James found them, he returned to earth with a rough thump. Had she felt the same connection with his brother when they had kissed on the terrace? Regardless of his fear that such a thing might have happened, not for a moment did Jeremy think about stepping out of his brother’s way. He even tempered the brief jealously he felt when she took both their hands, and ran between them as they aimed for the summerhouse he kept as a quiet retreat away from the house.
When she kissed James’ again, he felt a surge of worry, the momentary fear that he had lost her when he had only just found her. Then she was turning to him, and the kiss was one of passion, not of goodbye. Like never before, he wanted to claim her, take her, and never lose her. With a startling ferocity, he knew that this woman between them meant everything to him.
On her instruction he unfastened his mask and laid it on the table. She stroked his cheek, silk against skin, whispering, “I knew it was you.”
James unmasked himself next, garnering another smile from her pretty face. Then she was unlacing her own mask, tossing it on the table next to theirs.
“I’ve waited for you for years,” Jeremy breathed. “Lifetimes.”
“And did you approach me, or talk to me willingly?” Amelia chastised and he felt his heart tighten in annoyance at himself as she added, “Unlike your brother.”
“Couldn’t keep away,” smiled James, cockily assured.
“Tell me, why did kissing you both feel like I had come home?” She moved away from them, walking the small circumference of the room, trailing her fingers over the furniture, before turning to them expectantly. James’ smile had fallen slightly, no longer quite so confident of his bid to win her.
“Because we are the same, you and I
,” answered Jeremy. “You recognised it, too.”
“I found something in both of you that I have never found in another. Tell me, why should I be so cursed?”
“Cursed?” Jeremy moved past the sofas to stand in front of her, staring down at her small height from his tall vantage point. “Our immortality doesn’t have to be a curse.”
Amelia shook her head. “One should only feel a connection to one man. It is cruel that I feel drawn to you both.”
Behind him, James muttered a curse. This, neither of them had anticipated. Jeremy had simply assumed that James would curtail his interest and chase the nearest skirt that looked willing, leaving the path open for him to claim his mate.
James clearly had other ideas.
That she was interested in both of them was something Jeremy had never considered, yet somehow it didn’t seem crazy. If she had lived a life of loneliness, as he suspected, it was only natural she felt drawn to two of her own kind. Besides, there was only one of her and they had never, might never, meet another immortal woman again. While her immortality, and ability to be his companion, friend, lover, for centuries, it was her that drew him now, not just her immortality as it had on the day he had first seen her. How could either one of them deny her their love, even if it meant she would love them both in return?
Jeremy dropped onto a sofa, pulled her to him, tempering his racing thoughts as she stood in front of him. “Perhaps it is not cruel we meet now, but fate.”
Amelia turned wide eyes on him. “I don’t understand.”
“Love is rare,” replied James, circling the sofa to wrap an arm around her. “If you care for my brother and I equally, how is that a problem?” He dropped a kiss on her neck and Jeremy watched in fascination as she curved her head, allowing him room to sweep back her curls and kiss the expanse of creamy skin she exposed.
Lady Wicked Page 2
