Know Me When the Sun Goes Down

by Olsen, Lisa

  “Thank you, but no, I was born in Austria.”

  “And how is it that we’ve never met before?”

  It seemed to be a common theme of the night, and I thought about having a sign painted to hang around my neck. “I do not care much for society,” I said with a polite smile.

  “Surely not,” he replied with a disbelieving chuckle. “You seem born to it.”

  “Just because I’m well versed in it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. I’m not very good at saying one thing and thinking another.”

  “An admirable trait.”

  “But not one that makes a whole lot of friends.”

  “I should think it would engender friendships that are worth keeping. I certainly hope you’ll count me as a friend, Miss Gudrun.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him to call me Anja, but then I thought better of it when I caught the gleam in his eye. Good gravy, was he interested in something more? I’d always thought maybe he had a tiny crush on me, his Warden Liesa seemed to confirm that, but I’d also thought it had something to do with my position as Elder as well. Here I was a nobody. Well, a four hundred year old nobody, as far as anyone knew. My lineage was top notch, but I had no real power.

  “We shall see,” I replied with what I hoped was a mysterious smile, leaving off the conversation as we began a long trip to the other end of the room, weaving in and out of the line of dancers in time to the music. The song came to an end, and we bowed and curtseyed to each other, the very picture of civilized elegance. Faust offered me his arm to escort me from the dance floor, but another touch came at my elbow.

  I turned to find Bishop standing there, stiff as a board. “May I have the next dance, Miss Gudrun?” he asked formally.

  “You may,” I replied, just as stiffly, more than a little surprised at the invitation. But I recovered enough to offer my hand to Rein. “Thank you for the dance. If you will please excuse me...”

  “Only if you reserve the next dance for me,” Rein challenged, holding tight to my hand.

  “I would be honored,” I replied, and he let go of me, shooting Bishop a triumphant smile.

  Bishop gave no sign that the invitation bothered him. Then again, he was doing his best impression of a corpse for all the expression that crossed his face as he led me to the other side of the dance floor. It was indeed a waltz that struck up next, and I wondered if it was blind luck or if he’d had something to do with that? I couldn’t care less as long as it put me in his arms. His arms were stiff, but as the music began, Bishop led me through the paces well enough, relaxing as he caught the rhythm of it.

  “See, you dance beautifully,” I complimented him, but he shook his head.

  “You’re being kind. I’m still finding my footing.”

  In more ways than one. I had to believe this might be the first time he’d danced since before Carys’ death. His steps grew more sure as we danced, holding me closer, his touch gentling. “You’re not too shabby at this, Bishop,” I smiled in encouragement, and this time he smiled back.

  “It has been a while, but I seem to remember the steps.”

  “Perhaps you just needed the right partner?”

  “Perhaps.” His gaze swept over me, brows drawing together as they reached my throat. “Where is your necklace?”

  “What necklace?”

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Perhaps I am speaking out of turn. I thought that Aubrey...”

  “Oh that necklace,” I said, suddenly understanding what he was talking about. “I told him I couldn’t accept it.”

  “Why not, do you prefer sapphires?”

  “That’s almost the same thing Aubrey said when I turned him down, only he said rubies,” I laughed. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. I don’t want anything more than friendship from him.”

  “That is very... direct,” he said, as if the idea was foreign to him.

  “Shouldn’t I be direct? I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.”

  “And how did Aubrey take that?”

  “He wasn’t all that thrilled about it, but he understood.” At least I thought he understood. I looked over to where Aubrey stood chatting with the Toulac Elder, but he was staring in my direction. He nodded to me before I whirled away. Was he watching me?

  Bishop seemed to share my doubts. “Don’t be too sure about that. He doesn’t like to take no for an answer.”

  “I might’ve made my point with a show of strength. I’m pretty sure he got the message loud and clear.”

  “I wish I could’ve seen that.” Bishop’s lips curved into a rare smile, and I wanted to weep – God, how I missed the smiles he had just for me!

  “How did you even know about the necklace anyway?” I asked before I got all choked up.

  “Aubrey showed it to me earlier. He had definite plans for how the night would progress.”

  “Well, he’s not the boss of me. I’m the only one in charge of where my night will end.”

  “You strike me as the type of woman who would not let any man be the... the boss of you,” he said, trying out the unfamiliar phrase with a gleam of admiration in his eyes.

  “Maybe one man,” I said with a speculative smile. “But only if he let me boss him around sometimes too.”

  “And who might that man be?” he asked as the song drew to a close.

  I made no move to leave his arms as the last notes faded away. “Don’t you know?”

  Bishop’s lips parted as though he wanted to say something, but the applause for the band jostled him out of it. “Thank you for the dance,” he said formally, bowing.

  Cripes, why did the song have to be over already? I curtseyed back to him, about to ask him if he wanted to go get a quiet drink somewhere and continue our conversation when Rein materialized to claim the dance I’d promised him.

  I laid a hand on Bishop’s arm before he could disappear the way he so often did. “I shall reserve the next waltz for you,” I said, hoping he read in my eyes that it was him I wanted to dance with.

  He merely bowed in response and walked away. Why did old-timey Bishop have to be so hard to draw out? What did I have to do, sketch him a map to my heart with itty bitty kisses all over it?

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You’re wasting your time with that one. It’s well known he has no heart,” Rein commented as we started through the paces of the new dance. This one was slow as a funeral dirge, mostly a lot of walking in and out of a square of people, back and forth, trading places, it was kind of a yawn.

  “He has one,” I protested. “It’s perhaps mummified at the moment, but it’s nothing a little TLC won’t cure.”

  “TLC?”

  “Tender loving care.”

  “Ah, I take your meaning,” he nodded, remaining silent as we changed partners and repeated the same steps with the others in our foursquare. “Still, Ulrik has become nothing more than a brute. You deserve more, dear lady,” he continued without missing a beat when we paired up again.

  My gaze flew to Bishop, who’d stiffened as if he’d heard every word of our conversation. But at least he hadn’t pulled his disappearing act yet. “You’re very kind, but there is more to him than his job. He’s forgotten is all.”

  “But why expend the effort when there are so many other pleasant connections to explore?” He got closer than was strictly necessary as we met in the center of the square.

  Uh oh. “There is something to be said for bloodlines.”

  “Mine are impeccable,” he smiled.

  “So are his. And Bishop is, for all intents and purposes, my brother. That makes him worth any extra effort, and the reward twice as sweet.”

  “One’s familial connections are to be preserved, but when it comes to matters of the heart…”

  I stopped in the middle of the square, no longer content to dance around the issue. “Trust me when I say that my heart is engaged elsewhere.”

  Understanding dawned, and Rein bowed with acceptance, all grace and ch
arm. “Then I shall trouble you no further.”

  I was left alone in the middle of the square, but the song came to a close a few notes later. Instantly, two more men were at my sides asking for the next dance, but they backed off before I could reply.

  “I believe this is my dance.” Bishop approached, holding out his gloved hand to me as the strains of the waltz started up again.

  “Another waltz, I think this is my lucky night,” I smiled, laying my hand in his and letting him pull me close.

  “The luck is all mine,” he replied, his gaze flicking to where Rein watched us from the sidelines. “You have another admirer I see.”

  “Rein’s just being polite.”

  “Hardly,” he scoffed, his expression hardening. “Faust, Aubrey, all of them, they’re panting after you like dogs.”

  “But none has caught me yet.”

  “Even now, I can feel their eyes on you. Lurking, waiting to pounce.” His hand tightened around my waist, as if shielding me from them.

  My hand left his shoulder to touch his chin, leading his attention back to me. “But I’m here with you.”

  “Yes. You are,” he replied, confusion mingling with wonder over that fact.

  “And are you jealous, Bishop?” I teased, hoping to lighten the mood, but he stiffened up again.

  “Of course not. I have no claim to you.”

  “You have more of a claim than you know.”

  Something changed behind his eyes, and he looked like he wanted to say more but had no idea how to find the words. His lips parted, and I stilled them with a light touch.

  “Just dance with me, Bishop. Let me enjoy what magic we have while the music plays.” All too soon it would end and he’d clam up again, or disappear, or whatever stubborn, broody reaction he was given to next. For the moment I wanted to enjoy the feel of his arms around me, the pull of the music as we swayed together, the feeling that I wasn’t alone in the world.

  But the magic didn’t end with the song, or the next, or the next. The band played three waltzes in a row, and Bishop didn’t let go of me once the whole time. Somewhere around the beginning of the third waltz, I caught his smug smile and knew what he’d done. I threw back my head and laughed. He really wanted to dance with me, how shiny was that?

  By the time the last waltz ended and they struck up a reel, I was more than ready when Bishop suggested we take a turn about the gardens. I didn’t bother to see who noticed us slip away. Who cared if we disappeared together? I was a grown woman and neither of us was spoken for by anyone else. By strict Regency standards I knew it would be considered improper without a chaperone, but this was the least bad thing going down under the vampire roof that night.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked as we entered the maze, the spring air bracing after the heated ballroom.

  “It was not as I remembered it, but I did enjoy myself, yes.”

  “I’m thinking Carys had plenty of admirers at these type of shindigs, huh?”

  “Shin what?”

  “Soiree?” I tried again.

  “I see,” he nodded. “And yes, her hand was much sought after at these types of affairs.”

  “That must’ve been rough, having to watch her with other men.”

  Bishop shrugged. “It was ever so, from the moment I met her. Carys was not one to give up her delights over my feelings or Aubrey’s. I grew used to it in time.”

  “Still doesn’t make it right. I never understood what compelled her to pit you guys against each other the way she did when it was so obvious she held both of your love.”

  His brows drew together into a single dark line. “She spoke of this to you?”

  “I’m sorry. Is it strange for me to know these intimate details of your life?”

  “It’s a trifle disconcerting, yes,” he admitted. “Especially when I know so little of you.”

  “Ask me anything you like. Anything at all.”

  Bishop was silent for a moment, giving it serious thought before he asked, “Tell me something beyond the history you’ve shared in our circle. Tell me something no one else knows.”

  “Something no one else knows,” I repeated, not sure how to answer that. I couldn’t exactly blurt out – I’m from the future! Besides, Bridget already knew, so that wouldn’t count. “I hate boats. No, that’s no good, people know about that one. I used to be deathly afraid of singing in public. No, that’s no good, people know about that too. I used to have nightmares about being attacked by mud people when I was a little girl, but my sister Hanna knows about that. I love novels by Jane Austen, though that’s not all that interesting, I imagine plenty of women here love her too. I do love science fiction and fantasy, not that it means a whole lot to you, of course, so, um... mythology? I love reading stories from all over the world.”

  I paused for a breath. “It occurs to me that none of these are particularly secret though, unless you count by someone living. Most of the people that know these things about me aren’t around.”

  “That’s to be expected with the lives we lead. Even the immortal perish and leave us behind.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I murmured.

  We walked along in companionable silence, each lost to our own thoughts. “What are mud people?” he asked suddenly.

  “Oh, you know. They come out of the mud and they’re all gloopy, and one touch and you’re stuck in it, and you become one of them.” He stared at me aghast. “I never said it was a real thing, just something I was afraid of as a girl.”

  “That is quite an imagination,” he chuckled. “But you spoke of your sister. Did she protect you from such creatures?”

  “She did, I miss her.”

  His tone became instantly grave. “I am sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” I’d see her soon enough if everything went well. “I’m sorry for your loss too. Carys, your mother, your sister – I won’t say her name.”

  Regret creased his features. “I’m sorry I lost my temper with you when we first met. I was not prepared to hear you speak her name.”

  “It’s understandable after what happened to her.”

  I could tell the topic made him uncomfortable, and when he spoke again, he changed the subject. “Why do you hate boats? Surely you had to spend enough time on them on your journeys over the years.”

  “Why else do you think I detest them?” I quipped before sobering. “Boats have taken away everything I’ve ever cared about in my life.” First Rob and then Bishop, if I never stepped on board another boat in my lifetime, it would be too soon.

  “I’m grateful to one for bringing you to these shores.”

  “That was a very sweet thing to say,” I smiled, pushing away the melancholy that clawed at me. “See, you’re not as bad at this as you think.”

  “At what? Walking with a pretty girl in the moonlight?” His hand landed on mine where it sat on his arm, and I covered it with my other hand, surprised to find his gloves missing. When had he taken them off?

  “At living. Not just going through the motions, living for your job.”

  A deep furrow appeared on his forehead. “My work is important.”

  “And I’m not saying it’s not,” I replied in a soothing tone. “But there’s more to life than work. Can you call what you’ve been doing living? When do you have fun? There’s no joy in your life.”

  To his credit, he didn’t argue the point. Instead, he fixed me with a penetrating stare. “And there is joy in yours?”

  “Not every single day, but I’m trying to find it again.”

  “Since your love died.”

  “I’m not going to lie, I thought for a long time that the joy in my life died with him. Some days are harder than others...”

  “And would you have stayed out here the other morning if I hadn’t found you?”

  All the air left my lungs and I felt deflated for a few seconds before I drew in another breath. “I’d like to think not. I’d like to think I’d have come to my sen
ses and realized there’s more out there to live for.” We’d stopped walking, almost to the center of the maze, but still within the protective shelter of the hedges. The music could still be heard from the ballroom, but it was soft and indistinct, lending to the intimacy of the moment.

  Bishop nodded, swallowing before he spoke again. “Did you mean what you said before?”

  “I say a lot of things. I’m pretty sure I meant them at the time,” I smiled. “Can you be more specific?”

  His lips curved in the faintest of smiles, entirely too serious about whatever he wanted to ask. “You said your heart was engaged elsewhere.”

  Oh that. “Yes, I did.”

  “And were you speaking of your lost love?”

  I looked up into those cool, green eyes, fancying I saw something of my old Bishop in them. “In a way, I was.”

  “And in other ways?” We drifted closer, no longer maintaining the pretense of walking.

  “In other ways…” I replied, drawn to him with that magnetic pull I always felt whenever he was near, wanting to reach out and touch him in the worst way, but I didn’t dare do anything to spook him. “In other ways, I am closer to love than I ever thought possible.”

  His touch came slowly, as if he expected me to pull away as he reached up to cup my cheek. My eyes slid shut at the contact, but they immediately fluttered open again, not wanting to miss a second of the way he looked at me.

  And then we kissed. I didn’t know if it was him kissing me or me kissing him, all I knew was we came together once... twice... soft brushes of our lips, tender and achingly sweet. He kissed me slowly, reverently, as if we had all the time in the world to explore this new thing.

  And it was new. My Bishop didn’t kiss like this, this languorous exploration with not just his mouth, but his fingers brushing against my shoulders, the nape of my neck, the curve of my jaw. It left me tingling and aware of every single spot where his body touched mine, and thirsting for more.

  Slowly, we opened to each other, deepening the kiss, and as my tongue rasped against his, I was overwhelmed with the familiar taste of him. Bishop gave a low groan deep in his chest at that electric contact, fingers crushing the delicate fabric of my dress as he pulled me closer. I flowed against him, my body finding its old familiar fit as the heat flared between us. It had been so long, I wanted to cry, I wanted to shout in triumph as I found the joy again.