Table of Contents
MISS AUSTEN’S VAMPIRE
Acknowledgements
PART I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
PART II
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
PART III
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
MISS AUSTEN’S VAMPIRE
Historical Paranormal Prequel Novella to
The Vampire’s Passion
MONICA KNIGHTLEY
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
MISS AUSTEN’S VAMPIRE
Copyright©2015
MONICA KNIGHTLEY
Cover Design by Leah Suttle
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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ISBN: 978-1-61935-775-4
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To my mother
I wish you were here for this
Acknowledgements
This book could never have been written without the inspiration of the magnificent Jane Austen, who at times seemed to be in the room with me, dictating the words while I was writing them. Thank you to my husband for all of the endless encouragement, for all the trips to England over the years that always have to include some side trip that are Jane related, and for cheering from the sidelines. Bouquets of roses for my dear friend Darcie and my fantastic critique partners, Heather and Sarah, who all helped this book over a big bump and were instrumental in making it come together. And thank you to Debby Gilbert for her talented, thoughtful editing, and for agreeing that this story needed to be told.
PART I
ENTRANCED
Chapter 1
May 1815
London
Buttoning up his shirt, the man peered down at the naked, still figure splayed on the bed. He smirked as he took in her deathly white pallor, the droplets of blood still on her neck and across her breasts, the look of contentment on her face, and congratulated himself on his restraint. She was still alive, albeit barely, but this was a true improvement for him. Usually the women weren’t so fortunate.
After pulling on his boots, he leaned over the woman and drew the sheet up over her exposed body. Now, if someone were to happen upon her before she recovered and awakened they wouldn’t be alarmed and would assume she was just sleeping off an afternoon of debauchery.
“I’m sorry I never learned your name,” he whispered. “You were quite fine in all the ways I require.”
He turned and took his leave, closing the door quietly behind him.
As a newly turned vampire, Gabriel Augustine was still learning to quell his appetites—all of them. His need for blood was the most overwhelming and he found himself at the mercy of his thirst. Logic, intelligence, and reason all took leave when his need for blood took over. But close in hand was his new insatiable need for sexual release. Which came first, which led the other, he couldn’t say, each seemingly bringing on the other. They were inextricably linked. When he felt the need for blood take over, he also found himself requiring sexual relations. When aroused by the sight of an attractive woman, his thirst increased. For the past several months, since his turning, he had felt caught up in a whirling dance of desire and need with no promise of ever being sated.
Stepping out of the inn—one discreetly located in the furthest corner of northern London—Gabriel paused, wondering where best to head next. He had no pressing engagements, no business meetings, and should probably go straight home and avoid any temptations. He knew only too well that despite his thirst-slaking activity of the past hour he could easily be tempted to partake in either of the two activities again before the day was over. The scent of an especially appealing blood wafting by on a breeze or a demure smile from a pretty woman on the street was all it would take to send him back into the devilish dance of desire.
The fact that he was a man who women tended to notice when passing on the street, did not help him win his battle against his raging appetites. Tall, slender with broad shoulders, wavy dark hair atop a handsome sculpted face and jawline, eyes the color of obsidian, Gabriel Augustine was a man people noticed. Ever since the attractive, elegant prostitute first seduced him then made him a vampire like herself, he had wondered if his countenance had something to do with her choosing him. Of all the men in his club that night, she chose him to turn into a monster.
And now when a pretty woman took note of him and gifted him with a sweet smile, he was hard-pressed not to take advantage of the situation and sate his appetites.
No, he thought, I will not give in so easily. Clasping his hands behind him, he put his head down, and walking as if in a blinding storm rather than the day’s bright springtime sun, he turned toward Mayfair and home.
Gabriel kept a comfortable townhouse in London, and found that since his turning, his needs were better served in town than they would have been at the family estate in Hampshire. His heart would always belong to the family home. He greatly preferred it and the quiet life there, but it was difficult to hide his new reality and outrageous appetites in the country. No, until he had better control, London would have to be his home.
The walk from the inn to the townhouse was a few miles, but that was nothing to him now. There had been a time when the human Gabriel would have insisted on a carriage for such a short jaunt, but as vampire he had no limits on his time, and certainly none on his energy. The only risk on such a walk was the ever-present possibility of temptation, and he was determined to overcome any such temptation this day. After all, the lovely, soft, warm, and all-too-willing young woman who served him so well earlier in the day should insure a safe passage home. He silently prayed it would be so.
“Sir,” his butler greeted him at the door, “you have a guest awaiting your arrival. You will find your brother in the front parlor.”
This was unexpected and not entirely welcome. “Thank you, Collins,” Gabriel said, going through to the parlor.
Since his turning, Francis had made sure to keep a distance from Gabriel. The two had been the best of friends growing up, and even into adulthood. Both had always enjoyed a good party and beautiful women.
For the first month of his
vampiric existence, Gabriel avoided all family members by going off to Scotland where he rarely left the beds of the women of the area. But the previous month, in a most unpleasant meeting, he had returned to London and shared his new truth with Francis. His younger brother had been repulsed by Gabriel’s nature and had left the townhouse without uttering a word.
Since that day, there had been two more meetings, and while lacking in the brotherly affection of earlier days they had been very nearly cordial. Francis still could not look him in the eye, however. As he entered the parlor Gabriel wondered if that would change today.
Gabriel stopped in the doorway.
“Francis,” he said, mindful to use a soft, non-threatening voice.
Francis was standing in the far corner of the room, as far from the doorway as possible. He was ostensibly staring out the window to the street below, but it did not escape Gabriel’s notice that he was wringing hands that were linked behind his back. Francis was shorter and more sturdily built than Gabriel’s six-foot three-inch lean physique. Where Gabriel’s shoulders were broad, Francis’s sloped. While Francis was beginning to lose his hair, Gabriel’s wavy dark hair was as thick as it had been in his early twenties. Any family resemblance they may have had in their younger days was fast disappearing, a fact that most likely pleased Francis.
His brother did not turn around, but answered in a stone-cold voice, “Gabriel.”
Gabriel allowed silence to fill the air for several moments. When the silence became untenable, he ventured, “What brings you to town, Francis?”
Francis altered his stance, shifting his weight to the opposite foot and bringing his arms around to cross them over his chest. “I do not want you to think I am here of my own accord, nor out of any desire to repair the brotherly bond that was destroyed when you became a monster, Gabriel.” He continued to gaze out the window after spitting the words out. A flush rose on Francis’s face.
“No, I did not dare hope that you were here to return to the days of our brotherly affection. Which leads me to wonder why you are here.”
“I am here for Agatha.” He finally turned away from the window to face Gabriel.
Agatha, their older sister, did not yet know about Gabriel’s new nature, nor would she ever if he could help it. Four years older than Gabriel’s thirty-six years, she was the wife of William Lord Dartfourd, and as Lady Dartfourd Agatha enjoyed her place in country society.
“She’s planning a dinner party to help some local’s political aspirations, and wishes to have both her dashing and eligible brothers attend.” There was no missing the sarcasm in his voice. “It seems that there are currently more ladies on the guest list than men and we are meant to even out the numbers.” Still no eye contact.
Gabriel took three steps into the room, slow and measured so as not to frighten his brother. Francis seemed to be of the mind that his brother wished to change him, or feed on him, or do some other monstrous deeds. Gabriel wished he could reassure Francis that he could never do anything to bring him harm. And he certainly had no desire to make him a vampire.
“A dinner party?”
“Yes, and I can assure you there will be no blood on the menu.” Francis spoke with his hands curled tightly into fists.
“Francis, look at me. Please, look me in the eye, I am not going to hurt you.”
Keeping his chin tucked in tightly to his chest Francis raised his eyes to Gabriel’s.
“I am still the same man I was before, the same brother you have always known. My appetites have changed, I will grant you that, but otherwise I am the same person I ever was. I have no intention of hurting you.”
“That is what you say, and indeed I hope it is the truth. I have no way of knowing, as I have no experience with the veracity of monsters. Or lack thereof.” Francis turned away again, now picking up a porcelain vase and inspecting it.
“Agatha and Lord William’s dinner. When is it to be?”
“Friday. She will expect you at seven. She will obviously suppose you to stay at your house while in country, but I would prefer you not. I cannot imagine sleeping under the same roof with you. I realize it is my place to leave, as it is your home, not mine under the law, but under the circumstances I would like you to sleep, and do whatever else it is you do, elsewhere. I will make arrangements for you to stay at the inn in the village.”
“Fine.” Given the tenor of his brother’s words Gabriel was tempted to say something vile about his tastes and appetites just to rile him. But he bit his tongue and remained silent.
Francis looked as if he was considering leaving, but remained in place. “Just how, pray tell, do you plan to attend a dinner party without actually partaking in the meal? Any thoughts on how you will handle that situation?” It didn’t sound cruel as much as a true desire for an answer to a perplexing question.
“Francis, this will not be the first time I’ve had to feign enjoying a good human meal since my turning, surely you must realize that.”
“Hmmph. As long as you don’t partake of any of the humans present.”
Gabriel thought he almost saw the hint of a smirk on his brother’s face. If true, this would be a small step in the right direction.
“I assure you, I will arrive at Agatha’s dinner party without an appetite. For anything.”
Francis shuffled his feet and started toward the doorway. “Fine, I should hope so.”
Gabriel stretched out his arm, offering his hand to his brother. He knew as he did so that the gesture would not be accepted, but he felt the need to try. Francis stopped before him, looked him square in the eye, and nodded once before slowly reaching out to grasp the proffered hand. His grip was limp and he stole his hand away before what was normally acceptable, but Gabriel was pleased at his brother’s attempt. He hoped it meant reconciliation would one day be possible.
“Friday then.” And with that Francis turned and left.
Gabriel smiled at the back of the retreating figure. Yes, excellent progress, he thought. And a dinner party with family to look forward to. Not to mention unaccompanied young women.
He’d promised he would come without an appetite, but he did not promise he wouldn’t work one up while there, nor leave without a tasty treat.
Chapter 2
Thursday morning dawned with troubling thoughts on Gabriel’s mind.
It would take the better part of the next day to travel to Hampshire, so timing his sustenance had to be addressed carefully. Were he to slake his thirst prior to leaving, early on Friday morning, he would be in danger of requiring more by the time he arrived, and certainly by the time dinner was over and he’d spent hours in the company of women, pretty or not. He couldn’t risk waiting until he arrived. Finding a willing, or unwilling, donor in the country would be difficult at best, and he couldn’t risk discovery. He was beginning to despair to the point that he thought it best to send word that he would not be able to attend after all.
But a morning walk through London led him to a solution.
He was passing by a brothel he had previously used when the solution came to him. He would have to return later in the day, perhaps midday, to make his arrangements. In the meantime, just the thought of what awaited him tomorrow made him ravenous. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to simply feed, but would require his other appetite to be addressed as well. When feeding alone was possible, though it was a rare occurrence, a man would do in a pinch. The encounter wasn’t sexual, just a quenching of his thirst. But now he needed to care for both his appetites. Not fifteen minutes passed before he came upon a lone woman who would do quite nicely.
After careful consideration, Gabriel decided he would need to use a brothel he had never frequented for tomorrow’s purposes. One that had been recommended by a friend from his gentlemen’s club seemed like a good choice. He was standing before the madam, who eyed him warily.
“So, you’re sayin’ you won’t be wanting the girls here? You’d be takin’ ‘em elsewhere? That would be costin’ you, you know.�
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“Of course. I will pay whatever price you name.”
“And you want the two of ‘em?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps, for a bit more, you’d be likin’ a third? You know? For the fun?” Her brows waggled as she tried to tempt him.
“That is an intriguing thought, but today I only desire the two.”
“Have you seen my girls, out in the parlor? Any to your especial likin’?”
“Lavinia and Letitia seem like friendly young ladies.”
The madam nodded. “Ah, yes, you won’t be findin’ better anywhere in London.”
“I will fetch them in my carriage early tomorrow morning. Please see to it that neither has any customers tonight. I will need them well rested.”
A knowing smile spread across her face. “Indeed. Of course losing their night’s wages will also cost you.”
Gabriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick roll of bank notes. He placed these before the now-shocked madam.
“Will this cover all expenses?”
She couldn’t find her voice. Mouth agape, showing spaces where she was missing teeth, she nodded.
“Excellent. I will require them at six in the morning,” Gabriel said, then left the house.
The plan would work out nicely. First one, perhaps Letitia, early in the morning, before departing. If he didn’t take his time he could be finished enjoying all she had to offer by seven, a quarter past at the latest. Leave her for Collins to deal with after she awakened. Take Lavinia for the promised trip to the country, check into the inn by five, and have a little over an hour to make use of all her charms before dressing for dinner and making his way to his sister’s estate. He knew he would wish he had more time with Lavinia, just to insure he would make it through the party without temptation, but under the constraints of the trip he would have to make do. He felt confident that his thirst would be well under control, but his sexual appetite was more in question, given the short time he would have with either woman.
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