“Where the hell did you get that dress?”
“It turns out Becky is a dab hand with a needle. The gown is an old one of your aunt’s, with some lace added from one of the even older ones in the attic. Wink and Nell did the makeup and hair.”
“I suppose they’ve seen more than one light skirt where they come from.” It was the nearest he was about to come to a compliment. They stared one another down until Merrick sighed in defeat. “Oh, hell. I suppose I’m lucky they didn’t demand to come along as well.”
Caro laughed. “They thought about it. I may have resorted to bribery to keep them at home.”
“Bribery?”
“Ice cream on tomorrow’s outing—which is to be an all-day venture to the British Museum. A trip to the circus sometime in the next few weeks. And an extra hour of free time in the afternoon for the rest of this week.”
“Shame on you for spoiling them.” He laughed himself, though silently.
“We both know they could do with a bit of that. Part of me wants to wrap them in cotton wool, after all they’ve been through, but none of them would put up with that for a moment. It’s remarkable, really, surviving as much as they have. Thinking of Piers in a chimney makes my blood curdle, and I shudder to think what could have happened to Nell as a flower seller.” Or may have already happened. The children had by no means divulged all their secrets to either Merrick or Caro.
“Me too.” He cleared his throat. “But enough about that. You’re determined to come along tonight?”
“Utterly.” Her chin set and she crossed her arms under her generous display of bosom.
“Then you will promise not to leave my side, not for a minute. If you need to use the convenience, I will walk with you to the retiring room and wait outside the door. Is that clear?”
She snapped a salute. “Aye, sir.”
“And for God’s sake, be careful not to fall out of that gown.”
It was all he could do not to wrap her in his own coat as they walked up the steps to the house in a less desirable neighborhood than he would have liked. This was a street where a well-to-do merchant might set up a long-term mistress, or an exclusive madam might establish her business.
“I’ll be careful, Merrick. You have my promise.” She pitched her voice so low and sultry, the sound of it went straight to his groin, which was already reacting to her state of dress—or more accurately, undress. It was liable to be a very long night.
Swallowing his trepidation, he slipped the doorman a folded bill and ushered her inside.
The magick hit him as soon as he stepped through the doors. This was like walking into a brick wall, then somehow managing to wade through it, even as it hammered at the senses. Caro must have felt him stagger—she gripped his arm even more tightly.
“Are you all right?” She sniffed and grimaced, probably a little disturbed by the overpowering odor of incense.
“Yes.” Once they were into the foyer, the disturbance lessened. Wards, he thought, designed to keep out anyone with power, except for those the wards were keyed to.
“Welcome to Arcanum.” A gleaming brass automaton butler waited in the center of the foyer and bowed as he spoke in a deep, ringing tone that brought to mind church bells at midnight. “The cloakroom is on your right. To your left is the main parlor, and the card room is behind me on the right. Once you’ve made yourselves comfortable, further enjoyments can be arranged for at the bar in the main parlor. Thank you for visiting Arcanum this evening.”
They obediently deposited their cloaks and umbrellas, with a live servant this time, before moving into the main parlor. It wasn’t terribly crowded—no more than fifteen or twenty people in a room that could have held fifty. It clearly ran the length of the house, with French doors opening into a garden in back. Again, incense and magick hung in the air, making Merrick glad his inborn gifts included immunity to most spells. Next to him, Caro licked her rouged lower lip and breathed heavily.
A long oak bar filled the front of the room, so Merrick headed there first. Wines and liquors lined the shelf behind the bar and a small pasteboard note indicated that food could be arranged upon request. Merrick ordered two glasses of a moderate wine and leaned back against the bar as he surveyed the crowd. On a small dais in one corner was a string trio playing something exotic and haunting.
Caro caused a stir as they walked in. Every male head in the room turned to study her scantily clad form. One started to approach but backed off at Merrick’s glare. He held her close to his side, letting everyone in the place know in no uncertain terms that this beauty belonged to him.
“Two MPs,” he murmured to Caro, letting his hand drift up to the side of her breast rather than staying sedately at her waist as another would-be lothario began to move closer. “And those aren’t their wives.” Both men in question were openly making love in the main parlor to much younger women. A young earl in the far corner was being pleasured by a blonde and a brunette, his trousers hanging open as the brunette knelt between his legs.
“Do people really do that?” Caroline’s breathless tone caught Merrick’s attention even as the barman handed him their drinks. He sampled one, found it undoctored, and handed it to Caro. “She’s licking his…”
“Yes, she is. And yes, he’s most certainly enjoying it.” The lordling’s head was thrown back and the blonde leaned over him, letting him suckle her generous teats.
“Oh, my!” Well, he’d warned Caro she’d be getting an education tonight. “And in public.”
“For some, the idea of being seen makes it all the more exciting.” Merrick had never considered himself a voyeur, but he couldn’t help imagining himself and Caro in some of those poses, which meant he’d gone hard as a brick.
“How odd.” Her face was bright pink, and she fanned herself vigorously. “I think that man’s a banker—he used to visit my old employer, Mr. Wemberly.”
Merrick followed her gaze to where a well-heeled cit bounced a redhead on his lap. Caroline’s breathing was growing shorter and shallower. He didn’t know if she was being affected by what she saw, or…
“Damn it, there’s a sex spell in this room.” Time to get her out of here. He’d forgotten that the sidhe were more susceptible to certain spells than even the average human. While Merrick was safe from the magick, he wasn’t immune to either the visual stimulation going on around him, or to the knowledge of Caro’s arousal. He raised his voice and turned to the barman, who was trying to look down Caro’s dress. “So what are these special services we’re supposed to see you about? Just want to find out what’s available before we make our plans for the evening.”
“Let’s see, private rooms are the most popular,” the man said, ticking things off on his fingers. “With or without special…equipment. We can provide an extra woman—or man, if your tastes swing that way. Meals. Turkish baths. Private meeting rooms for business. Those don’t have the same, well, ahm-bye-ance as in here.” Merrick took that to mean the sex spell was lifted in the business rooms.
“Sounds like a good selection. Come on, dovie, let’s go see the gaming room while we make up our minds.” He tucked his arm through Caro’s and started pulling her toward the door.
“All right.” She moved alongside him, her barely-covered breast rubbing against his upper arm with each step. Based on her little gasps of pleasure, it was probably intentional. Damn, she was enough to tempt a saint—which Merrick certainly wasn’t.
Unfortunately, the sex spell wasn’t diminished in the gaming room, which occupied most of the other side of the house. Another fifteen or so patrons and their companions were in here, some gathered around the central roulette wheel and some playing cards at various tables. Merrick paused in the doorway to get a sense of the magick in the room. If anything, it was even stronger—as if there were a second spell augmenting the first. This room had a piano in the corner, and a woman in little more than a corset and stockings sat atop it, singing.
“Some of the women are gambling, aren
’t they? Is it fun?”
Merrick gritted his teeth. The second spell was no doubt to encourage reckless wagering. “Some people think so.”
“Should we try it? Or should we do what they’re doing?” She pointed to a couple kissing on a sofa along the side of the room.
Hell, was that Gideon MacKay? Merrick pulled her back out into the hallway. “You know, love, I think we can just go home and make our own magick.” He’d come back tomorrow, during daylight hours, to investigate the place. Clearly there was real magick here, and clearly Caro was at risk, which was unacceptable. With that, he nearly dragged her out the front door, barely remembering to stop and grab their coats as they left.
A few minutes later they were back in Merrick’s carriage, and Caroline had climbed into Merrick’s lap.
“You know that there was a lust spell in that building?” He was trying to be an honorable man, though he was fighting a losing battle with his own desire—especially when her fingers undid his cravat and began to work on his shirt studs. What was it about this one woman that made him forget all his principles?
“I don’t care. I’ve wanted this for days.” She shoved her hands under his shirt, running her fingers through his sparse chest hair, and brought her lips down on his.
He was lost. Their tongues dueled as she smoothed her hands across his chest. Merrick pushed her cape off her shoulders, then slid the short puffed sleeves of her gown down her arms, baring the entire expanse of her upper body. It was short work then, to lift one breast out over the top of her corset, to pluck and roll the swollen nipple between his fingers.
Her knees straddled his thighs, and she ground down against his erection. There were far too many layers of clothing between them, but Merrick ached to feel her warm damp flesh over his. He started to slip his free hand under the hoop of her skirt, when the carriage jolted to a grinding halt, nearly catapulting Caro out of his arms and onto the floor.
“Attackers!” Debbins kicked the wall separating the inside of the coach from the driver’s box.
Instantly, Merrick set Caro down beside him on the seat. “Stay here.” Unconcerned about his state of undress, he pulled a small box from under the seat and took out a pair of revolvers. One he held in his right hand, the other he held out toward Caroline. “Do you know how to use this?”
“A little. I’ve shot one, but it’s been years.” Still she held it properly when she reached for it, so Merrick nodded.
“Use it if you need to, but try not to hit me or Debbins.” Then he moved back the curtain and looked out, taking stock. There was one black shadow on this side of the carriage, holding the horses. Pistol in one hand, unsheathed sword-stick in the other, Merrick eased open the door and slipped out into the night.
Caroline sat on the floor of the coach and tried to breathe. One moment she and Merrick had been on the verge of making love and now they were under attack. The coach rattled and shook as shouts and shots mingled with crashes and thuds. She set the pistol carefully aside to right her corset and bodice. Once she was covered, she picked it up again and moved to open the curtain on the window to the driver’s box.
There were at least three of them attacking Merrick and Debbins, who was still on the box, an empty pistol by his side, wielding his whip. As she watched, a dark figure leapt from the ground up to Debbins, clawing at him with…talons?
Vampyres!
Caroline eased open the glass and shot the creature in the head as it reared back to bite the coachman. The force of the shot flung it back off the coach. While she didn’t think that would kill the monster, at least it might slow the thing down.
“Thanks, miss.” Debbins flicked his whip at another, only to have the undead creature rip the weapon from his hand, almost pulling him from the box. Seeing the direction, Caroline braced the pistol on the window opening and shot at that monster as well, her bullet catching it in the leg. Again, she may not have killed it, but it did fall down. A moment later, Merrick ran to it and stabbed it through the heart with his sword stick. The vampyre instantly crumbled to dust.
“Good shooting, miss.”
“Here—you can see them better than I can.” She handed the revolver through the window. Debbins immediately turned and fired.
Something thudded hard against the doors of the coach, and Caroline saw the handle begin to turn. She scooted against the far wall and reached for Merrick’s large, black umbrella, with its steel-tipped ebony shaft. Wood—that was supposed to hurt the undead, wasn’t it? She held the umbrella in both hands. When the door was wrenched away, something dark and foul-smelling launched itself inside. She raised the makeshift weapon and shoved with all her strength.
“Caroline!” She heard Merrick shout, heard the slap of running feet.
With a horrid shriek of pain or anger, the vampyre impaled itself along the cloth-wrapped ebony shaft. When Caroline shoved again, it teetered in the doorway, finally losing its footing to topple to the ground. Merrick loomed above it and stabbed it again, slightly to the left of where the umbrella stuck out of its chest. This one dissolved more slowly into a malodorous puddle of rotted flesh.
“That’s the last of them.” Merrick’s chest heaved as he looked up at Debbins. “You all right?”
“Aye, sir, thanks to the lady.”
Merrick’s gaze bore into Caroline’s in the dim light of the streetlamps. “Caroline—are you hurt?”
“Not at all.” She bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering.
“Good then. If you’ll just give me a moment.” He muttered something, used a gesture, and in moments, the remains of the vampyre were gone in a puff of smoke. “There are several others to deal with.” His heels clacked on the macadam as he circled the carriage, muttering. Then he returned and swung himself back in, this time seating himself across from her. “Home with all speed, Debbins.”
“Aye, sir.” He whistled the horses into motion and Caroline closed the window between the inside of the coach and the driver’s box.
“Merrick, I’m sorry…” she began.
“I apologize…” he said at the same time.
“I wasn’t myself…”
“There was a spell…”
Finally they both stopped trying to talk and just stared at each other, both still breathing raggedly.
“You gave Debbins your gun.”
“He was in a better position to use it.”
Merrick sighed. “I don’t know whether to thank you or spank you. The vampyre he shot with that pistol would have ripped my throat out—it was two on one. But you ignored my instructions and left yourself vulnerable, which infuriates me.”
His protectiveness warmed away a little of the cold dread generated by the attack. “I did what I thought was right. I won’t apologize for that.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” A smile flitted over his face as he reached across and took her hands in his. “You handled yourself well, Caro. Though I foresee a huge increase in my umbrella budget as long as you remain in the household.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t let go of his hands, but studied his face. “Were you injured?”
“No, thanks to you and Debbins. Six vampyres attacking together—that’s a record number as far as I know. I wonder if our visit to Arcanum triggered the attack, or if it was something else.”
“We’ll have to tell your aunt, and Mr. Berry. They could be at risk as well. And even the children—they don’t go out at night, but we should still take extra precautions.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Damn, I’m still trying to come to grips with it myself. Merrick, we were almost killed.”
“Almost, but we survived. That’s the important thing. And Caro? We will need to discuss that other thing that almost happened tonight as well. Some of it was caused by magick, it’s true, but there’s something else between us that has nothing to do with the spell at Arcanum—something beyond a simple chemical attraction. I behaved badly. You really should slap my face.” Whatever the force that pulled them together, it was growing
too strong to resist. Merrick wasn’t even certain he wanted to anymore. All he could think of was Caro in his arms.
Caroline shrugged. “No. I’m sorry I succumbed to the spell, but—I can’t say you’re wrong, either. We’ll simply have to do our best to keep our…emotions under control.”
He snorted. “I’m not precognitive, but even I can see that’s not likely to happen.”
Chapter Eleven
After scrubbing the makeup off her face, Caroline allowed herself the indulgence of a long, hot, bath when she got home. Merrick had shut himself in his study to write down his notes about the club and the attack, as well as pen some messages to be delivered first thing in the morning. Neither of them had said a word, but they’d silently agreed to avoid one another, or so she assumed.
She wasn’t at all sure what to do about her attraction to Merrick. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before, so she had no frame of reference. On the one hand, she’d always prided herself on her exemplary behavior. On the other, she wasn’t likely to ever marry. As long as they were careful to avoid repercussions, there would be no permanent damage done if she indulged in an affair with her employer. Well, except to her heart, of course. But she rather suspected that was already a lost cause.
She’d just finished drying off when she heard Jamie’s screams. It wasn’t the first nightmare he’d had since the night of her arrival, but this one sounded worse—his cries were louder and higher pitched than usual. Hurriedly, she dragged her nightgown over her head and struggled into the sleeves. She grabbed her dressing gown on her way out the door, but didn’t stop to put it on.
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