Midnight Embrace

by Amanda Ashley

  There were five bedrooms upstairs, all similar in nature save for the largest chamber, which obviously belonged to Alesandro. Like his room at Blackbriar, the furnishings here were of heavy dark wood; the covering on the bed was a deep blue that was almost black. Heavy draperies covered the windows, shutting out the sunlight.

  Climbing the stairs to the second floor, she found a nursery and a schoolroom.

  The third floor held the servants' quarters, which also had a separate set of stairs at the rear for the servants to use.

  Gallatin Manor seemed to be a much newer house than Blackbriar Hall.

  She was about to return to the main floor when she heard someone talking. She paused, recognizing Sally's voice. At first, she thought Sally was looking for her, but then she heard another, deeper voice.

  "How long will you be staying, love?"

  "I don't know," Sally replied. "Lord Avallone didn't say."

  "Then we must make every moment count, mustn't we?" the man replied, his tone low and suggestive.

  Tiptoeing toward the sound of the voices, Analisa peeked around a corner of the hallway, stifled a gasp when she saw Sally fall into the arms of a tall, blond-haired young man. Analisa stared, noting the way they clung to each other, the way the man's hands moved over Sally's back and buttocks, his touch familiar, possessive. It had to be Robert, she mused. No wonder Sally was so smitten with the man. He was quite handsome, though not as handsome as Alesandro.

  Alesandro. She glanced at the window, felt her heart flutter when she saw that the sun was going down.

  Turning away from Sally and her young man, Analisa hurried down the stairs. Alesandro would be here soon. She needed to wash up, brush her hair, and change out of her traveling suit.

  She found her belongings in the room next to the master's chamber. It was a nice room, decorated in deep mauve and white, but she hardly noticed her surroundings as she removed her clothing. Someone, Mrs. Thornfield, no doubt, since Sally was otherwise occupied, had laid a fire in the fireplace and left a basin of hot water on the commode. She washed quickly, dried off, slipped into a dress of maroon kerseymere. After brushing her hair, she tied it back with a matching ribbon, stepped into a pair of low-heeled slippers, took a last look at herself in the mirror, and went downstairs.

  The lamps in the parlor were lit, a fire burned in the hearth. Too restless to sit, she walked around the room, admiring the painting on the wall, the colored bottles on the mantel.

  Where was he?

  She went into the study. A lamp, turned low, burned in here as well, as though awaiting the master's arrival. There was a fire in the hearth. The furniture in this room was dark and heavy and sparse— only a large desk, a comfortable chair, a small sofa, and a bookcase that took up all of one wall from floor to ceiling. Every shelf was filled with books.

  Rounding the desk, she sat down in the chair, imagining that she could smell Alesandro's scent in the rich dark leather.

  She was tempted to open the desk drawers, curious to see if she could learn more about the mysterious man she had fallen in love with, but she stayed her hand, afraid he would know somehow that she had been snooping where she didn't belong.

  Where was he? He had said he would meet her here tonight. Had something happened to detain him?

  Her imagination was running wild with all sorts of horrible possibilities when suddenly he was standing before her. Just looking at him sent a thrill of excitement running through her. He was tall and dark and broad-shouldered, and power emanated from him like the heat radiating from the hearth, invisible but undeniable. She felt small and helpless in the face of such strength.

  "Analisa."

  "Good evening, my lord."

  He held out his hand, and she rose to her feet and rounded the desk.

  "I was afraid you weren't coming."

  "I said I would be here, did I not?"

  She nodded, her gaze caressing his face as she moved into his arms. "I missed you."

  He drew her close, holding her tight in the circle of his arms. He brushed a kiss across the top of her head, inhaling her scent. Only two nights without her. It had seemed much longer.

  "How do you like it here?" he asked.

  "It's beautiful, my lord."

  "It suits you far better than Blackbriar." The Hall was a dark, forbidding place. His Analisa deserved better. He closed his eyes a moment. He had spent the past two nights trying to convince himself to let her go. Even if he could keep her safe from the darkness that was so much a part of his life, there were other dangers in being associated with him.

  She gazed up at him. "Will you not kiss me, my lord?" she asked shyly.

  Desire rose within him, melding with his hunger, burning through him like the heat of the sun. Lowering his head, he claimed her lips in a kiss that left them both shaken and breathless.

  She stared at him for the space of a heartbeat, and then she smiled. "I missed you too, my Alesandro."

  " 'Lisa!" A shudder ran through him, and he closed his eyes as if he were in pain.

  "Alesandro, what is it?"

  With a deep sigh, he released her and took a step back. "Go to your room, Analisa. Now."

  Once, she would have fled the room with alacrity, but not now. Not when he was in such obvious pain, such blatant need. It glowed from the depths of his eyes, throbbed in the taut line of his jaw, in the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

  She heard the door open behind them. Without knowing who it was, she said, "Leave us!" in a voice she hardly recognized as her own.

  Sally murmured, "Yes, miss," and closed the door.

  "Analisa, go to your room," he said.

  She could not bear to see him in such pain, could not abide the thought of his taking what he so desperately needed from someone else.

  "I won't let you send me away." She lifted her hair away from her neck. "Take what you need, my lord. It is freely given."

  " 'Lisa, you make me ashamed of what I am." But he was moving toward her as he spoke, his eyes alight. He drew her down on the sofa and gathered her into his arms.

  She trembled in spite of herself as he bent over her. She felt his breath warm upon her throat as he muttered an oath, and then she felt the prick of his fangs. His hands tightened on her shoulders, holding her in place. She moaned softly, but it was a sound born of pleasure, not pain.

  She whimpered in protest when he drew away. He never took very much, yet it always left her feeling weak and a little disoriented.

  He looked down at her for a moment, then crushed her to him. She wasn't sure, but as she drifted to sleep, she thought she heard him crying.

  Drawing her cloak tightly around her, Sally tiptoed down the back stairs. Outside, she ran lightly along the path that led to the stables, her heart pounding in anticipation as she hurried to meet Robert. If Mrs. Thornfield discovered her absence, it could mean dismissal, but she didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but Robert, waiting for her in the barn.

  She slowed to a walk as she drew near, smoothed a hand over her hair, pinched her cheeks to give them some color. He had left one of the big double doors slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, she slipped through the narrow gap. A lamp, turned low, hung from one of the overhead beams.

  The barn smelled of horses and hay and pungent manure, of leather and oil. She made a slow circle. "Robert? Robert, are you here?"

  She gasped as he stepped out of the shadows. "Oh, Robert, you frightened me!"

  "Sorry, love." His blue eyes danced with merriment and mischief as he held out his arms. "Come here."

  She flew across the floor into his embrace.

  "Miss me, love?" he asked.

  "You know I did." Her gaze moved over him. He was the handsomest man she had ever seen. His hair was the color of sun-ripened wheat, his eyes as clear and blue as the sky on a midsummer's day, and when he smiled at her, she felt as though her heart would burst with happiness. "Tell me you missed me, too."

  "I'll do better th
an that." Taking her by the hand, he led her into his room in the back of the barn. "I'll show you," he said, and closed the door.

  * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  Analisa slept late the following day and woke with a smile on her lips. Lifting her hand, she ran her fingertips over her neck, felt a familiar warmth where Alesandro's fangs had touched her skin. Strange, that something she should fear, something that should make her stomach turn with revulsion, filled her with such pleasure. Last night, after she had roused, Alesandro had read to her from a book of poetry, and then he had told her a little about his childhood. There was so much about him she didn't know, so much she yearned to discover.

  Sitting up, she rang for her maid, and a short time later Sally entered the room.

  "Afternoon, miss," the maid said cheerfully, and Analisa noticed that Sally also wore a smile. "Will you be wanting breakfast?"

  Analisa nodded. As always after satisfying Alesandro's hunger, she was famished.

  "Very well, miss. I'll tell Cook you're awake. Will you be wanting anything special?"

  "No, anything he makes will be fine. Just bring me lots of it." She sat up, stretching her arms over her head. A glance out the window showed it was a rare, clear day. Throwing the covers aside, she got out of bed.

  "You look well rested and happy," Sally remarked as she handed Analisa her robe.

  "I am." Analisa slipped into her robe, then hugged herself. In a few hours, she would see him again. "You look quite happy yourself," she remarked, noting the color in her maid's cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes.

  "Oh, yes, miss, I am. Shall I fetch you some hot water?"

  Analisa nodded.

  "Very well, miss."

  Sally practically floated out of the room, making Analisa wonder if the girl's cheerful mood had a source similar to her own. Just thinking of Alesandro made her smile inside and out. She loved him, she thought, loved him with all her heart and soul. He was a man sorely in need of loving after so many years of solitude. It pleased her when she could make him smile. Alesandro. He was truly a man like no other. Dark and dangerous, yet capable of such gentleness, such tenderness. She wondered if Sally's feelings for Robert ran as deep and wide as her own for Alesandro.

  The maid returned with a bucket of hot water a short time later. "Breakfast will be ready when you're finished here," Sally said. "Shall I bring it up, or will you eat in the breakfast room?"

  "I'll come down."

  Sally bobbed a curtsey, laid out a dress and clean underwear, and left the room, humming softly.

  Analisa took off her robe and nightgown and quickly washed her hands, arms, and face. She dressed quickly, brushed her hair, and then, humming the same tune as her maid, she went downstairs.

  The breakfast room was awash in sunlight when she stepped inside. A tray was placed before her as soon as she sat down. Breakfast was delicious, as usual, but, staring out the window, her thoughts on the coming night, she was hardly aware of what she ate.

  Mrs. Thornfield entered the room as she was finishing her morning meal and laid out a place setting at the opposite end of the table.

  "What's that for?" Analisa asked curiously.

  "Lord Alesandro wishes you to know how to behave at a proper dinner."

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Come," Mrs. Thornfield said, her hand tapping the back of a chair, "sit here."

  When Analisa was seated, the housekeeper pointed out what each knife, spoon, and fork was used for.

  Analisa looked up at the woman, confused. Meals at Blackbriar and here at the Manor were always informal. After all, there was little need for proper protocol when Analisa ate her meals alone, or occasionally with Alesandro for company.

  "Lord Alesandro feels you need to know how to conduct yourself in society. At a large gathering, you can expect to be served as many as ten courses—"

  "Ten?" Analisa squeaked.

  "Yes. You might expect to have soup, a turbot of lobster and Dutch sauce, perhaps some red mullet or oysters. A sweetbread. Lamb cutlets served with asparagus or peas, venison or mutton or stewed beef, perhaps a duckling. There might also be sardines and plover's eggs in aspic. You can expect chocolate for dessert, or perhaps a cherry ice, as well as whatever fruit is in season. And there will be wine, of course. Sherry with soup and fish, port with venison and cheese, claret with roast meat, and Madeira with sweets."

  "I don't understand," Analisa said. "Alesandro and I have never been invited out, nor is it likely to happen."

  "I'm only doing what I was told, miss," the housekeeper said, and for the next two hours, she schooled Analisa in proper etiquette.

  A lady who was unmarried and under the age of thirty was never to be in the company of a man without a chaperone except for a walk in the park in early morning, or when walking to church. A lady did not wear pearls or diamonds in the morning. A lady never danced more than three dances with the same gentleman. A lady never called on a gentleman except on a matter of business. A lady never "cut" someone after meeting them socially. A lady should always rise to offer her hand. A lady must never lounge or sit timorously on the edge of her chair. Her feet should scarcely be seen and never crossed. A lady always left something on her plate.

  Analisa's head was fairly spinning when the lesson came to an end, though she was no less confused than she had been at the beginning. What need did she have to know such things? Alesandro did not go visiting, nor did he have company at his home, and there was little chance that she would be invited anywhere without him.

  "Anyone would think he was trying to make a lady out of me," she muttered.

  Feeling suddenly tired, she went upstairs to take a nap. Sleep came quickly. Her dreams were erratic. One minute she was sitting at an enormous table surrounded by dozens and dozens of dishes while faceless people looked on, waiting for her to choose the right fork, and the next minute Alesandro was there, his eyes blazing red with the lust for blood. "This is the correct fork," he said, and with an insane laugh, he plunged it into her throat.

  She woke with a start, her heart pounding wildly. Scrambling out of bed, she ran out of the room and out of the house.

  It was near dusk, and cool. The setting sun set the sky ablaze with vibrant shades of crimson and scarlet. The colors of blood. Shivering, she scrubbed her hands over her arms, and then, needing a distraction, she walked toward the barn.

  Robert was outside, currying a pretty gray horse. Dewhurst sat on a bench nearby, mending a harness.

  "Evening, miss," the caretaker said, tipping his hat.

  "Hello, Robert."

  " 'Tis a lovely night for a ride, miss." He patted the horse on the shoulder. "I could saddle Old Bess for you, if you like."

  "Oh, no," Analisa replied, shaking her head. "I don't know how to ride." At home, they had been far too poor to own a horse and had made do with a donkey, which was far cheaper to buy. She had, on occasion, ridden the animal bareback, but she had been a child then. She had no idea how to ride sidesaddle.

  "As you will, miss."

  "Is it all right if I look around?"

  "You've no business asking my permission," Robert said, obviously taken aback.

  Analisa flushed. She kept forgetting she was supposed to be the mistress of the manor.

  Head high, she lifted her skirts and walked into the barn. She stopped in the doorway, letting her eyes grow accustomed to the dim interior, and then wandered down the center aisle. There were large box stalls on either side. The carriage horses whickered softly as she drew near. She stopped in front of the first horse and ran her hand over its neck. She paused a moment in front of the adjoining stall, giving equal attention to the second horse, and then moved on down the row to the end where a big black horse eyed her suspiciously. It was a beautiful animal, with fox-like ears and a long, silky mane. The stallion blew through its nostrils and shook its head, its ears going flat at her approach.

  It could only belong to Alesandro, she thought, for certainly onl
y a man unafraid of death would have the nerve to ride such a fearsome beast.

  She kept her distance, put off by the wild look in its eyes, gave a start when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, smiling with surprise. "Alesandro!"

  He wore black breeches and knee-high black boots of soft leather. His shirt, of fine white lawn, was open at the throat, the perfect foil for his black hair. As always, just looking at him made her breath catch in her throat.

  "What do you think of him?"

  "He's yours, isn't he?"

  He made a soft sound of assent.

  "He's beautiful, but how did you ever get the nerve to ride him?"

  "It wasn't easy." Alesandro moved past her to stroke the stallion's neck. "I've had him since he was a colt. Horses have an instinctive fear of my kind. It took a long time to win his trust. But we're friends now, aren't we, Deuce?"

  The stallion made a soft snuffling sound, pushing his nose against Alesandro's chest. With a faint smile, Alesandro drew a cube of sugar from his pocket and offered it to the stallion.

  Analisa smiled as the stallion plucked the cube from Alesandro's hand, then tossed its head up and down in what could only be a gesture of equine approval.

  "Why do you keep him here instead of at Blackbriar?"

  "Robert has been breeding him to some of the local mares." Alesandro scratched the stud's ears, then turned to face Analisa. "Come and meet him."

  She shook her head vigorously and took a step back.

  "Come, "Lisa," Alesandro insisted. "He will not hurt you."

  "Are you sure?" Keeping one wary eye on the horse, who seemed to be keeping one wary eye on her, she walked toward Alesandro. She gasped as the stallion lowered its head to sniff her hand.

  "Shall we go for a ride?" Alesandro asked.

  "I don't know how."

  "You can ride double with me."

  She hesitated a moment, torn between her fear of the horse and her desire to please Alesandro.