Bitten By the Earl (Lords of the Night Book Two)

by Sandra Sookoo

  She glanced up at him. He really had been everything that was proper, and he did look resplendent in the required evening clothing. “Remembering something my brother said this evening.”

  “Will you share?” The inquiry was equally polite. Did the man not have emotions, or had he learned the trick of suppressing them? Either way, it was much different than conversing with Rafe.

  And a bit… anticlimactic.

  “Actually, it was more of a private, family conversation.” Not for worlds would she admit to coming tonight in order to see Rafe. It wasn’t well done of her allowing one man to escort her to the ball yet hoping to dance with another.

  “Very well. I won’t pry.” He turned the full force of his regard on her. The depths of his lake-blue eyes seemed fathomless, and Elizabeth trembled.

  “Thank you.” Could she fall for him? Perhaps. He’d been quite steadfast in calling on her, so much so that gossipy members of the ton had begun taking notice. That would be a switch, her name in the rumor rags instead of her brother’s. And he never failed to send a floral tribute after each time he saw her. To date, Rafe had never done anything romantic like that. Did that tip the odds into the marquess’ favor?

  “Would you care for some punch? Or perhaps champagne?” He smiled. “It wouldn’t do at all for you to overheat. Especially since we haven’t shared a dance yet.”

  “Champagne, please.” It was her weakness even though one glass of the delicious bubbly wine made her inhibitions waver. She continued to ponder Lord Rockingham, for he didn’t move from his spot beside her. The marquess had been everything solicitous, which was wonderful in its own way, but as of yet he hadn’t asked to kiss her, hadn’t even tried to steal one either. And the kiss she’d shared with Rafe yesterday had been so earnest and sweet. Unexpectedly surprising, for nothing of the beast had appeared. Another cloud of confusion enveloped her. Was it true, that if she danced with the earl tonight, she would know how to answer his question?

  I hope so, for I have truly missed him.

  Did she want the earl—all of him? A shiver worked its way up her spine. That was a more difficult question to answer. And time was of the essence. In six days, the full moon would be upon them. He couldn’t break the curse without love present from both parties, and though she felt something for him, it was hardly love.

  Not that he loved her either. But flutters moved through her insides. Part of that rankled, for he’d already admitted that he held her in high regard.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough, for they had both learned during Donovan’s romance, that both parties had to be irrevocably in love to banish the curse.

  Would he forever hate her if he had to spend the next five years as a vampire? Tears prickled the backs of her eyes, and she blinked quickly to stave off crying. It wouldn’t do to fall into maudlin thoughts.

  “Elizabeth.” Oliver touched her elbow, and once again she peered up at him, meeting his gaze. “You do not attend me tonight as I’d hoped you would.”

  When she attempted to smile, it was a rather poor affair. “I apologize.” Heat swept through her cheeks. “I was wool-gathering.” She frowned. “I thought you’d gone to fetch champagne.” Liquid in her suddenly dry throat would feel heavenly right now.

  “I didn’t wish to leave you while you appear unsettled.” He urged her out of the way of foot traffic as another dance set up.

  A sigh left her lips. The man didn’t deserve less than her best. He had made the effort of inviting and escorting her to the ball. It was only polite that she enjoy it and him. “I am only distracted. Nothing more.” She touched his hand, surprised when he clutched her fingers. “Please do not worry over me.”

  “I cannot help it.” He leaned his head closer to her the same time the five-piece orchestra struck up a lively tune and the dancers went into motion. Colors whirled about the floor in a dizzying array. “You are distracted by the earl.” It wasn’t a question. One of his eyebrows raised.

  “Perhaps.” Her eyes widened with surprise. How much did he overhear in the retiring room the other evening? Then she rushed to add, “Or mayhap it’s being here at all. I do so love to socialize.” She owed him a truth. “For so long the Sinclair name has been overlooked and kept from such activities.”

  He rested his gaze on her, and speculation lined his expression. “Because of your brother and his… affliction?”

  A tiny gasp escaped her. “You know… what he is?” she asked in a barely-there whisper. At least she wouldn’t have to explain, but oh dear heavens, what would she do now? And was that the reason he’d initially wished to befriend Donovan? Even more to the point, if he knew about her brother, did he also realize what Rafe truly was? Her protective instincts grew strong.

  The marquess squeezed her fingers. “I have heard stories, which ebb and flow as the years go by. Most recently resurrected due to the duke’s marriage.” When she fluttered her free hand in a panic, he continued, his tone low and convincing. “But those stories don’t matter to me. You are not what he is, and I want you.”

  A thrill went down her spine at the words, but then she mulled over exactly what he’d said. Wouldn’t a man wish to have his lady regardless of who or what she or her family was? Another cloud of confusion enveloped her as she continued to stare at him. “I shall bear that in mind.” If her response came out rather icier than she’d intended, she couldn’t help it. Neither did she attempt to soften the words.

  “Elizabeth.” Oliver sighed and he dropped her hand. “Do not misunderstand me.”

  She tucked both of her hands behind her back while her dander rose. “It’s rather difficult not to,” she declared in a slightly waspish tone. “My family’s history is none of your concern, and neither am I if you choose to draw such hard and fast lines.”

  “I meant nothing by what I said.” He sounded earnest enough, his eyes pleading. “I simply meant that I’d heard the rumors—”

  “—and you are rather relieved that I do not labor under the same curse… if there is such a thing.” Oh, she was ruining a lovely evening. In an effort not to pick an argument with him, she scanned the ballroom that grew more crowded as time passed. The noise built as did the heat from hundreds of candles and the crush of bodies. She snapped open her fan and provided much needed air to her face. Would Rafe come? His company was preferable to the marquess at the moment. Had he been in earnest when they’d talked in the carriage? Did he truly wish for another chance, to court her? Excitement danced down her spine, but she still didn’t catch a glimpse of him.

  Oliver touched her shoulder, and when she gave him her full attention once more, his eyes reflected disappointment and a trace of annoyance. For what? Her, his words, or the situation? “Since my presence at the moment is rather de troup, I shall take a turn in one of the card rooms, but I will see you later in the evening for a dance. Perhaps I can regain a place in your good graces.”

  Relief cycled through her, probably more than it should that he was giving her space. “Thank you. I would enjoy that very much.”

  “Would you?” He held her gaze, hope now reflected in those cool blue depths, eyes that were entirely the wrong color. “For you must know that I aim to continue calling on you for a specific purpose,” he said quietly.

  “I know.” The muscles in her stomach cramped, and confusion warred with pleasure. He would be hers with little encouragement on her part, as her brother said a brilliant match. Yet… Rafe was a wild card. One never knew what he would do, and though he’d promised to attend tonight, there had been no sign of him. Perhaps she was a fool, indeed, if she didn’t give the marquess permission. Heat infused her cheeks, and she finally nodded. “Of course.”

  “Good.” With a nod, he melted into the crowd, quickly vanishing in the crush of people.

  Elizabeth stood by herself for long moments at the side of the room, while other unattached ladies mingled and talked. Why couldn’t she just decide which man was best for her? She longed for Felicity, for she would know
exactly what to do under the circumstances, but… Rafe might have his flaws—big flaws—but he was the more interesting of the two. If she chose him, she need never suffer through predictable or boring. Yet, there were his fangs, and his need to feed on humans…

  Then her breath caught, and a host of butterflies took flight in her belly. He’s here! She craned her neck to better watch his progress around the perimeter of the room. Oh, Rafe was resplendent this evening. His black evening jacket set off his broad shoulders and the nip of his waist to perfection. Though the marquess was much larger and bigger, the earl’s form was quite pleasing indeed. A waistcoat of sapphire blue embroidered with golden swirls provided the hint of color he needed. The black evening breeches and requisite white hose showcased his well-muscled legs, and belatedly she remembered that he adored riding through Hyde Park in the mornings for the exercise and the discipline.

  He prowled toward her, and when his gaze connected with hers, heat fired her cheeks, and her heartbeat raced. Telling that she didn’t have such a reaction when she saw the marquess, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the phenomena, for the earl reached her quickly and with his usual speed, almost gliding up to her. His sandy blond hair, freshly trimmed and tied back with the bit of leather, gleamed in the candlelight.

  “Good evening, Elizabeth.” His tenor-pitched voice reverberated in her chest as he executed a half-bow from the waist. “You appear surprised to see me.” When he grinned, his eyes twinkled with humor, more green than brown tonight.

  She willed her reaction to settle. “Rafe, good evening.” She offered her hand, and as he raised it and placed a kiss to its back, she trembled. “You came.” It was the only thing she could think to say and hardly erudite.

  “Of course, for you did ask me to.” His grin widened, and she was lost, could happily spend the remainder of the night staring at his mouth, listening to him talk. Oh, if only he was this polite and charming man all the time. When she didn’t respond, he chuckled and turned her hand over in order to examine the dance card dangling from her wrist. “There are only a few names on here this evening, Lizzy.”

  Tingles of pleasure erupted through her insides at the sound of her nickname. “I wanted to make certain there were plenty of dances available in the event you attended.” In retrospect, she should probably make it more difficult for Rafe to court her, but why bother? She’d always believed in the direct approach to life.

  The tiny pencil attached to the card was dwarfed in his gloved hand as he scribbled his name in two slots on that card—a dance that would occur in a few minutes as well as one that followed the set she’d promised to the marquess. When he finally released her hand, she blew out a shuddering breath.

  “I’ve always admired your intelligence.” His grin expanded into a full-fledged smile, with no hint of fangs.

  She shrugged, and finally back in control of herself, she gave him an answering smile. “I meant what I said yesterday during our carriage ride.” When the young women around her location began to whisper behind their fans and dart glances at the earl, she narrowed her eyes. “However, now I’m wondering if a society event was the best choice to make my decision.” It would always be like this with Rafe. The whispers and speculation would never stop. Everyone would gossip. Did she have the fortitude to ignore that for the rest of her life if she chose him?

  Unless the curse broke with the full moon.

  Rafe swept his gaze over the cluster of ladies, who immediately scattered as if he might suddenly pounce. “Pay them no mind. People with judgment do not matter.”

  Hot guilt twisted in her gut, for she had done just that to him. To his credit, he said nothing, only lingered his attention on the spot where the ladies had stood. The corners of his eyes crinkled with his narrowed gaze. “I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth whispered, and she briefly touched the fingers of one hand to his sleeve. “I only have experience secondhand regarding such things, but it must be terrible knowing that everywhere you go, that is your reception.”

  “It is something I’ve grown accustomed to, unfortunately.” He returned his regard to her, and another queer little thrill shot down her spine. “Their whispers have no bearing on the man that I am or the life that I lead. I refuse to hide myself in the shadows merely because what I am makes others uncomfortable.”

  Elizabeth’s respect for him edged up a notch. “I’m glad you aren’t cowed by circumstances.” Her fingers trembled on his sleeve. “The man I remember possessed the spirit of the ages. He would never give up on anything without a proper fight.”

  “I am still that man,” he said softly and covered her hand with his. Rafe nodded toward the dance floor, where couples left and new ones took their places as the musicians prepared to execute a waltz. “Shall we?”

  “Yes.” The word left her tight throat, and she remembered she never did receive that promised champagne. Elizabeth allowed him to lead her onto the floor, and when they assumed the requisite position and he settled his hand at her waist and she clung to his other one with a hand on his shoulder, her stomach executed a freefall.

  Since he came back into her life, she’d fought her attraction to him, for that desire was mixed and deeply rooted with the fear that came from knowing that he harbored a beast within. Yet, as they began the first steps of the dance, she gave herself into his care. There was something about a waltz.

  Something about being in his arms, moving around the room, being so close to this man who used to mean everything to her.

  “I must say, society isn’t that bad when I have an opportunity to spend it dancing,” he murmured, his lips near the shell of her ear. His breath warmed her cheek. “The fact that I’m performing a waltz with you so near to Christmastide is quite nostalgic.”

  “Yes.” Elizabeth tilted her head upward and met his gaze. Why couldn’t she think of anything else to say, she who’d had no issue giving this man a piece of her mind twice before? When his lips curved into a grin, she sighed. “I’m remembering that night as well.”

  It had been the evening before that fateful night which had changed everything. A ball five days until Christmas, and when Rafe had attended the event with Donovan and the other Lords of the Night, she’d felt exceedingly grown up and more than a little decadent, for she had been seeing Rafe in a clandestine capacity for much of the year. She’d finally convinced her brother that she needed a Come Out, and better late than never. He’d agreed, and she’d enjoyed a wonderful Season, somewhat abbreviated due to his blacklisted status.

  And oh, how she’d danced! Rafe had been magical that year, everything a young English lord should be, and they’d been giddy with hiding their courtship from Donovan.

  Rafe applied gentle pressure to her fingers, recalling her to the moment. “You are still the most accomplished dancer I’ve partnered,” he murmured, and at a turn, he reeled her a tiny bit closer. “You’re still the only woman I want in my arms,” he added, and her heart squeezed at the admission.

  “Oh, Rafe…” Heat fired in her cheeks. She dropped her gaze to his intricately folded cravat as the waltz continued.

  With every movement, his lean body brushed hers. Desire for him continued to build until she was fairly clinging to him, uncaring that the space between them evaporated more and more. His eyes glittered with amusement, and deep within those hazel depths, the same need coursing through her veins lingered. When a slow smile took possession of his lips, a throb rocked her core.

  This was the man she could see herself with. This was the man she had craved since that horrible night. This was the man he was when the beast left him alone.

  Just before the ending strains of the waltz sailed into the air, Rafe led her through the opened double doors and onto a terrace beyond. A few other couples milled about the area while the light of the moon frosted everything a lovely silver.

  “You are beautiful tonight, Lizzy,” he whispered as they drifted toward a low stone wall that surrounded the terrace. “The gold gown is a nice touch.” His eye
s gleamed in the moonlight, the red ring around his irises faint and unthreatening.

  “Thank you.” Her hands shook and she clasped them in front of her to hide her nervousness. “You are exceptionally handsome, but then you always did know how to dress for the night.”

  “It is when I feel most alive.” His smile had warmth unfurling through her lower belly. “Besides, I knew I’d see you, so I made a concentrated effort.”

  “I never asked you to.”

  “No, but I should have where you were concerned.” Though his tone was somber, his eyes were still alight with humor and perhaps… regret. “That is what you deserved, instead of what I did that night.”

  She sucked in a breath. “You are here now. That is enough.” Unable to stop herself, she once more dropped her gaze to his mouth—his normal mouth—as the chilly air puffed around her, but the cold didn’t touch her, not when she expected to burn up with need.

  “Ah, Lizzy.” Rafe brushed his gloved knuckles along her cheek and left tingles behind. “Is it?” Then he his head closer to hers. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked in a low whisper.

  In this moment, there was no shame. She knew her own mind. “Yes.” And every waltz should end with a kiss, especially when the terrace and gardens beyond were so enchanting in their winter bareness.

  “Come.” The earl drew her hand through his crooked elbow and then led her down three stone steps and into the gardens beyond. Away from the lights of the house they went, and with every step he murmured pretty words designed to romance her mind or perhaps reach her heart. If she’d been the young woman of that night long ago, she would have fallen tip over tail. But even though she was warier now, those endearments sent silly little shivers of anticipation through her body. “This will provide enough privacy, I think.”

  When he tugged her between two tall evergreen shrubberies, she giggled. It had been such a long time since she’d done anything as scandalous as this. If Donovan found out, he would no doubt follow through on his threats.