One Bite Per Night

by Brooklyn Ann

  Once Lydia calmed, she came to a realization. “But this has taught me something. Even though Lawrence was once my hero, his acknowledgment and even his very approval of my work doesn’t mean a fig to me anymore. Vincent has supported and encouraged me since I first met him, and that is what’s important.” Her heart immediately lightened at the truth of her words.

  Maria smiled and began to reply. Then her attention abruptly left Lydia, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Sally, look!”

  They turned to see Lawrence talking with Sarah Siddons and Fanny Kemble. A low growl emerged from Sally’s throat. “How dare he talk to them!”

  Maria bared her fangs for a moment and stalked closer before Lydia could pull her back.

  Sarah Siddons, however, seemed fully capable of handling the faithless painter herself. “I’ve told you before, I do not wish to speak with you any longer. I came only out of respect for our former friendship.”

  “Ah, but my dearest Sarah, my heart has been desolate without your vivacious company! You’ve been a second mother to me, and a most treasured friend.” Bending down to Fanny, he smiled, sickly sweet and somewhat frightening. “And this little poppet is the very image of my sweet Maria. Surely you will allow me to paint her portrait.”

  “How dare you speak of Maria after—” She broke off and threw up her hands. “I have nothing further to say to you, sirrah!”

  Turning on her heel, she took her niece’s hand and stalked away. As she stormed out of the Exhibition, she glanced in Sally and Maria’s direction and paled. Then, shaking her head, she departed.

  Lawrence heaved a tragic sigh and bade his admirers and his fellow academicians farewell.

  Sally and Maria exchanged glances and followed him.

  “No!” Lydia protested. “Don’t do this!”

  They ignored her and continued on in pursuit.

  Frantically, Lydia searched the chamber for sight of Vincent, Ian, or Angelica. Still, they were nowhere to be found. But Sally and Maria had to be stopped before they got themselves and Vincent in trouble.

  She cursed them and Lawrence to the lower circles of hell for once more creating a catastrophe and making life difficult for Vincent.

  Damn, I suppose I must handle this myself. Lydia took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before hurrying after the vengeful vampires. She prayed Vincent would catch up with her in time.

  Thirty-three

  “The Elder arrived early?” Vincent blinked at Ian in horrified disbelief.

  “I’m afraid so. Rafe just informed me.” Ian rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He came to your town house first and then to mine. Miss Hobson told him you were here. He is on his way.”

  Vincent sighed. “How very helpful of her.” He cursed inwardly as dread curdled his gut. Sooner than expected, he would find out whether he would live or die…and what would become of Lydia. “Which one is it? Please say it isn’t the Lord of Rome.”

  “Almost as bad. The Lord of Edinburgh, which is why he was able to come so soon.” Ian’s face was grave. “We had better fetch Lydia and prepare our defense.”

  Just then, Sarah Siddons rushed up to a woman behind them, face pale and eyes wild. “Hand me my smelling salts! I swear I have seen my daughters.”

  The woman eyed her with pity as she rummaged through her reticule. “Oh, Sarah, please calm yourself. You must have imagined it—it’s the anxiety brought on from those dreams you’ve been having, along with speaking to that horrid man again. Let us bring Fanny home and have a nice cup of tea.”

  Vincent shook his head. This night was only getting worse. He never should have allowed Sally and Maria to visit their mother. Furthermore, he should have sent them away the moment he saw them tonight, despite their clever disguises.

  They strode through the exhibits and past the departing patrons. Thomas Lawrence had left his display, and Lydia was nowhere to be seen. Unease curled in Vincent’s belly as he searched for her in every direction.

  “Do you see any sign of your wife?” he asked, now scanning the area for Angelica. “Perhaps she is with her?”

  Ian shook his head. “She had better not be. I sent her to your town house the moment Rafe delivered his missive.”

  When he opened his Mark and felt Lydia’s presence moving away from the Exhibition, his uneasiness increased, especially when he noticed that Sally and Maria were also gone. And so was Lawrence.

  And Lydia had been infuriated with the man for stealing the credit for her work. Could she have joined the Siddons sisters on their dangerous quest for vengeance?

  Although he hoped she hadn’t done something so dangerous, the current evidence did not bode well.

  His dread deepened when he caught sight of another vampire standing before David Wilkie’s painting. The ancient power reverberating from his being marked him as one of the Elders. The Lord of Edinburgh. The urge to flee nagged at the back of Vincent’s mind, though he knew the Elder undoubtedly had already seen him and Ian.

  As if he’d read his mind, the Lord of Edinburgh turned and met his gaze.

  “It’s always good to see the skilled work of one of my countrymen,” he remarked conversationally, gesturing to the painting he was admiring. His eyes turned cold and assessing. “Lord Deveril, I thought I’d have to run pell-mell all over London to find you.”

  Vincent bowed his head respectfully. “I apologize, my lord. I wasn’t expecting you until the night after tomorrow.”

  “Yes, well it’s best to get this over with, don’t you agree?” He looked between Vincent and Ian. “Now where is your unsanctioned youngling? I hope you’re not hiding her away from me.”

  “Of course not, my lord.” His mind grappled with possible excuses. “She needed to feed.”

  The Elder’s face was inscrutable. “Well, let us go find her then.”

  Vincent closed his eyes, trying to breathe past the hammering in his chest. He was utterly and completely doomed.

  Rafe waited outside, leaning on a walking stick to disguise his bad arm. From the look of his guard-like pose, it was apparent that the Lord of Edinburgh had charged him to watch the entrance to see if Vincent or Lydia attempted to sneak away.

  The Spaniard gave Ian a piercing look before addressing the Elder. “They didn’t try to slip away, my lord. Tell me, how were the paintings?”

  While Rafe spoke, Ian whispered, “Do you know where she might have gone?”

  “I think she went after Lawrence, along with the Siddons sisters.”

  His brows drew together, and he began to utter a curse, his mouth clamping shut when the Elder turned back to them. “Shall we be off?”

  Vincent nodded reluctantly. “If you don’t mind, I shall be able to find her more quickly if we walk. It is easier to feel the Mark that way.” The last wasn’t a lie. However, he needed to stall the Elder as long as possible.

  “You Marked her before you Changed her?” The Lord of Edinburgh eyed him quizzically. “Why?”

  “Because I was her guardian and wanted to be sure she was safe from rogues.”

  “Yes, I’d read in your report that she was your ward. But now I understand that she is your fiancée?”

  “I thought it the most expedient measure under the circumstances. After all, she can’t receive morning callers, much less marry a mortal man anymore.” Vincent didn’t mention that he’d already intended on marrying her before that.

  “Hmm,” the Elder murmured noncommittally. “Well, find her Mark, and let’s be on our way.”

  Closing his eyes, Vincent opened himself to the bond he shared with Lydia. Just as he feared, he sensed her to the east, in the direction where Sir Thomas Lawrence lived.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to feign calmness. “She went this way.”

  Ian and Rafe exchanged glances and followed along behind them. As they walked, for once Vincent was
grateful for the presence of mortals. It gave him an excuse to proceed slowly.

  Still, they arrived at Lawrence’s flat all too soon. The Lord of Edinburgh eyed the building with suspicion. “It is my impression that it is rude to feed from mortals in their own abodes.”

  Vincent forced a lighthearted laugh. “I’d completely forgotten. Lydia had plans to have tea with her mentor after the Exhibition.”

  The Lord of Edinburgh gave him a doubtful look. “Without a chaperone?”

  “Of course not.” Hopefully it wouldn’t be discovered that she was accompanied by two murderous vampires. “I’ll fetch her. It’ll be only a moment.”

  Rafe gave the Elder an unreadable look before turning to Vincent. “I’ll go with you.”

  The Elder nodded, and so did Ian, the latter giving Vincent a clear message: he would stall the Elder as long as possible.

  Vincent headed up the stairs to Lawrence’s apartment, praying Rafe would keep his silence.

  Not bothering to knock, he opened the door and cursed at the sight before him. Sir Thomas Lawrence lay back on his bed, a blissful smile on his slumbering face as the Siddons sisters lay on either side of him, their fangs plunged in his neck.

  Lydia stood before them. She whirled around, golden eyes wide with surprise and guilt.

  “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Sally and Maria withdrew from Lawrence and bit their fingers to heal the man’s wounds. Vincent breathed a silent prayer of thanks that the troublesome sod was still alive.

  “It is not what it looks like!” Lydia exclaimed.

  Rafe stalked forward, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Oh? And what does it look like, other than these two trying to kill that mortal?”

  “I was stopping them,” she snapped. “None of you were around when they went after him, so I did what I felt I had to do.”

  “Is that why they were draining him while you watched?”

  “Well, after all he put them and their family through—not to mention his callous behavior regarding my work—I decided they at least deserved a taste.”

  To everyone’s surprise, Rafe threw back his head and laughed. “All right, I can understand that. However, you three had better explain yourselves and do it quickly. The Lord of Edinburgh is outside, waiting to begin Deveril’s inquest.”

  “He’s here now?” Lydia’s choked gasp echoed through the room.

  Sally and Maria left the sleeping painter and scrambled off the bed.

  “We are so sorry, my lord,” Maria told him. “It is only that he was haranguing our mother at the Exhibition and…” Her voice shook in suppressed horror. “And he was eyeing our niece as if he intended to make her his next conquest.”

  “She’s only thirteen!” Sally cried, wringing her hands. “We wanted only to protect her!”

  Vincent could understand that, however… “Your own desire for vengeance had nothing to do with this?”

  Maria gave him a direct look and nodded. “Of course it did. But Lydia had a long talk with us, and we’ve realized something.”

  “And what is that?”

  Sally stepped closer and took her sister’s hand. “We learned that revenge doesn’t really matter to us anymore. All we wanted was to punish him for driving us apart and then causing so much grief that it would have killed one or both of us. We wanted to hurt him for separating us.”

  “But he didn’t separate us.” Maria smiled up at Sally. “We are together, and that matters more than vengeance.”

  “I am happy to hear that,” Vincent said drily, and he really was. “However, that doesn’t change the fact that yet again you have disobeyed one of my commands. I have no choice but to punish you both. I command you to return to Cornwall immediately, and I will deal with you when I get there.” Suddenly he remembered that he might not be alive to do so. He cleared his throat. “If I am executed, Emrys will carry out your punishment.”

  The Siddons sisters bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

  They headed for the door, but Rafe stopped them. “I will have someone keep an eye on the painter to make certain he leaves your kin alone.”

  Sally’s eyes widened. “Thank you. You cannot know how much—”

  “And if he causes any trouble when I serve as Lord of this city in Ian’s stead, I may be willing to make an arrangement with you as to how to handle him.”

  Maria did not bother with thanks. Instead, she threw her arms around the scarred Spaniard and kissed him on both cheeks. Rafe flinched and gently, but firmly, disengaged her. “Go now. And please take the rear exit. You still have your writ of passage, yes?”

  They nodded and hurried away.

  Vincent blinked at Rafe, unable to hide his shock at the surly vampire’s uncharacteristic display of compassion and disregard for the rules.

  “Family is an important thing where I come from. I continue to watch over mine,” he said gruffly and opened the door. “The Elder is likely wondering what kept us.”

  Lydia cast a last look at the sleeping painter. “Are you going to tell him…about this?”

  Rafe shook his head. “I see no need to make it worse for Deveril.”

  She beamed and embraced him. He sighed and patted her on the shoulder. Golden eyes tentative, she walked to Vincent. “Are you angry with me?”

  “No, but I was worried.” He kissed her on the top of her head. “I still am.”

  She squeezed him tight. “And I as well.”

  They encountered the Lord of Edinburgh at the door. “What the devil took so long?”

  Lydia cringed and pressed herself closer to Vincent. Before he could fabricate an excuse, Rafe answered.

  “The painter had dishonestly taken credit for her work, so she gave him a well-deserved dressing down.” Giving Lydia a stern look, he chided her. “There was no need to tell your lord a pretty lie about having tea. Lord Deveril would have understood. Then again, he might have had it out with the lying churl as well.”

  Lydia pouted prettily and hung her head. “I am sorry.” Her trembling hand squeezed Vincent’s harder.

  “I do apologize for the delay,” Vincent told the Elder. “Shall we return to my town house?”

  The Lord of Edinburgh nodded, his censorious gaze remaining on Lydia. Vincent pulled her closer, tucking her slightly behind him, every instinct screaming to protect her.

  Ian waited outside, casting them an apologetic look before bowing to the Lord of Edinburgh. “My carriage has arrived.”

  The Burnrath coach rolled into view, cutting through the thick London fog. Its black wood with silver gilding made the vehicle resemble a funeral hack. Vincent hoped the resemblance wasn’t symbolic.

  Vibrating with reluctance, he helped Lydia into the carriage and pulled her close to him. Propriety be damned. Lydia gave the Elder a nervous look before burying her head against Vincent’s shoulder. Rafe and Ian looked out the windows as though to avoid the sight of the couple who might not see the next moonrise together. Vincent’s gaze swept over Lydia’s face and hair, drinking in her features for what could be the last time. He could feel her heart pounding in time with the clatter of the carriage wheels. Her fear made him feel even more helpless.

  Thirty-four

  The coach arrived at Vincent’s town house, the horses’ shoes clattering on the cobblestones with sharp finality. Ian and Rafe stepped out, followed by the Lord of Edinburgh. They waited for Vincent and Lydia to alight and followed behind like an honor guard.

  Vincent rang for brandy and bade Aubert to retire once everyone was settled in the parlor. Angelica perched nervously on the settee, swirling a glass of wine and stealing tremulous glances at the Lord of Edinburgh. Pouring a glass for the vampire who would be judge, jury, and executioner, Vincent fought back a burst of insane laughter. Such a civilized atmosphere, when I am on trial for my life.

  After handing
everyone their brandy, Vincent sat next to Lydia and took her hand.

  The Elder opened his satchel and took a sip of the strong liquor. “Shall we begin?”

  Vincent took a drink and nodded. Ian and Rafe did as well, their glasses untouched. Lydia only shivered.

  Clearing his throat, the Lord of Edinburgh said, “Vincent Tremayne, Lord of Cornwall, you are charged with the crime of Changing a mortal without sanction from the Elders. Do you admit to committing this crime?”

  “I do,” Vincent replied.

  “Please explain the details of your crime and how it came to occur.”

  Even though everything was in the report he’d submitted, Vincent related the tale, knowing full well the reason for the request. Edinburgh wanted to trap him in a lie.

  Once satisfied that Vincent had not deviated from his explanation, the Elder nodded.

  “I shall now examine your character and the aftermath of your crime, before your sentence is decided.” The vampire withdrew a sheaf of documents. “I will read the reports and testimonies we’ve gathered from Cornwall, and then I’ll hear from the witnesses.”

  As the report was read, a strange tremor of warmth engulfed Vincent. His people had nothing but good to say of him.

  “The vampires of Cornwall deem their Lord to be just and abiding of our laws. Our investigator has determined that they have not made these statements under duress.” Shuffling the papers, the Elder added, “I see you also included a petition to name your second, Emrys Adair, to be ruler of Cornwall in the event of an unmerciful judgment.”

  Vincent nodded, throat tight.

  “Very well, now let’s hear from the witnesses. Lord of London?”

  Ian gave Vincent a compassionate glance and stood.

  “Your Grace, please tell us how you came to be involved in Lord Deveril’s crime,” Edinburgh commanded.

  Ian surveyed the ancient vampire with an equally implacable gaze. “The Lord of Cornwall requested temporarily to reside in my city so that he could find a husband for his ward.”

  “And what did you think of him becoming involved with a mortal in the first place?” A note of derision laced the vampire’s voice.