Bite Me, Your Grace (24 page)

“I understand,” she replied solemnly.

Rafe gave a dry laugh. “I highly doubt that you do, but I have hope that you will someday.” His gaze softened slightly. “I also understand that you killed the vampire hunter, Ben Flannigan. For that, you have my deepest gratitude and I shall repay you at the earliest opportunity.”

Angelica's eyes widened. Had that hunter been the one responsible for Rafe's burns? She opened her mouth to ask, but he had already melted back into the shadows.

Angelica shivered. Where was Ian?

Her body felt him a second before he embraced her from behind, pressing his hips against her rear as he kissed her ear. “How was the coronation, my Angel?”

She melted in his arms and covered her husband with kisses before launching into a full account. After relating all the gossip she'd heard at the banquet, she noticed that his eyes were on her breasts and he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to her words.

Angelica fought back a tremor of desire at his heated gaze. “I see you have no interest at all. You have probably been to a dozen of these affairs and seen many kings crowned.” She slapped him on the arm with her fan and stuck out her tongue.

Ian smiled, resembling an archangel in the multicolored light that framed his hair like a brilliant halo. He stepped closer and tilted up her chin. “Kings come and kings go, but our love will last forever.” His lips captured hers, and Angelica's heart flared brighter than the explosions in the sky.

As July gave way to August, Angelica's marriage was as happy as it had been in the first weeks after her wedding. She was overcome with excitement as she and Ian planned their trip to Paris and discussed other places they intended to visit. She was the luckiest woman alive. Very few women had the opportunity to enjoy a honeymoon that lasted half a century.

“A letter has arrived for you, Your Grace,” Burke said, presenting him with an ornate envelope on a silver tray.

“At last.” Ian smiled as Angelica fetched the letter opener. “I have received a response from the Elders. They certainly took their time.”

Angelica could hardly remain still in her seat as Ian slit open the first envelope and read with painstaking slowness.

She searched his face for hints of the news to come. At last, he met her gaze and set the letter down. “The Elders have approved my petition to Change you,” he announced with a smile.

Angelica gasped in joy and threw herself into his arms. At last she would be like him and they would be together for all eternity.

Ian kissed the top of her head and grasped her shoulders. His expression turned serious.

“They also wish me and Rafe to meet with them to discuss his succession.”

“Is that typical?” Angelica asked, surprised at her concern. Although Rafe didn't appear to like her very much, she couldn't help but feel that much of his sour personality was due to how others treated him because of his scars and crippled arm. She had no doubt that he was powerful and intelligent enough to take Ian's place.

Ian nodded in reassurance. “Yes, the Elders always want to observe a potential interim lord in person to ensure that he is capable of the job. If he does not pass muster, they shall appoint a vampire of their own choosing.”

“Do you mean to say that you have no real choice in who will be in charge of your city for the next fifty years?” Angelica asked, outraged.

Ian chuckled. “In the literal sense, no, I do not. The Elders always want to ensure there is no corruption, bias, or blackmail involved in a lord's choice of a successor. But most of the time, they approve his or her candidate.”

“And how do they decide if a vampire is qualified?” She leaned forward, lips parted in fascination. Succession was based on logical reasoning rather than blood-born heirs. Perhaps the vampires' government was superior to England's.

“Usually the Elders base their decision on the candidate's age and power.” Ian explained. “Though, sometimes I suspect one could bribe their way into the running.”

Angelica chuckled and shook her head. “So there is corruption in the politics of vampires as well.”

“Of course.” Ian grinned. “We still maintain many aspects of our humanity, after all.” He stood. “Well, I had better begin packing, as well as inform Rafe of our journey.”

“Where are you going?” She fought to keep the panic from her voice at the thought of him leaving her.

Her husband gave her a reassuring smile. “We are to meet at the Elders' motherhouse in Amsterdam so I can give them my report on the state of the city, as well as an updated list of my vampires and where they place in the hierarchy.”

She pouted, dreading the thought of him leaving her. “Amsterdam? I wish I could come, too. How long will you be gone?”

“I shall be back in a few days. I, too, would love your company, but this business is for Lord Vampires only. I suggest you use this time to enjoy the company of your family and friends. It will still take a few months of preparation for our journey, but you will be surprised how quickly the time passes.” Ian tilted her chin up to meet his intent gaze. “And please, savor as many sunrises as you can. You never realize how much you miss natural light until it is gone.”

Angelica wrapped her arms around him, looking up at him mischievously. “You can pack later, husband. First I want to give you something to be sure you hurry home to me.” Her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she slowly sank down on her knees.

***

Angelica spent her time wisely, savoring cheerful days shopping with her mother and evenings dining with both her parents. Even though the Winthrops were now very wealthy, since Margaret's father had restored her allowance and granted her two estates, Jacob Winthrop remained at his job at the bank, declaring that they couldn't manage without him.

The only regret Angelica had was that she would miss her family, but she was consoled by the fact that her parents seemed to have grown closer since her marriage to Ian.

Her evenings were spent in her literary circle. She would also miss these brilliant women and the new friendships she'd formed.

Rafe's words came back to her suddenly:
“…joining the ranks of the immortals means that you will have to separate yourself from all of this.”
He was right, she realized, and her heart froze. Soon she would have to abandon her family. Would it be worth it?

Angelica took a few moments to imagine life without Ian… A cheerless life as the broodmare and arm decoration for a boor of a man who spent her dowry on his own pleasure. Her mother constantly nagging at her to conform to society's will. Yes, abandoning her life here would be worth the sacrifice of her humanity.

Angelica couldn't repress her excitement about what was to come. Soon, she would become a vampire like Ian. She would drink blood and be young forever, traveling the world and experiencing the unknown. A measure of revulsion remained at the thought of ingesting blood, but she fought it off. She stood upon the precipice of a great adventure, made all the more wonderful because her true love would be by her side. A change in her diet was a paltry thing in comparison.

She withdrew a packet of vellum invitations from her desk drawer, as well as a piece of paper. She smiled as she dipped her quill in a fresh bottle of ink. While Ian was absent, she had managed to track down Dr. John Polidori's address. She would invite him to one of her writers' soirees and perhaps get the answers that Ian sought. Hopefully, her husband wouldn't be too upset with her for taking matters into her own hands. However, remembering the way Polidori had fled from Ian, Angelica could not imagine Polidori being receptive to meeting with him.

***

“Rosetta, would you look at this letter?” John called, a worried frown creasing his brow. “It seems that the Duchess of Burnrath had invited me to a gathering of writers that she hosted at Burnrath House yesterday. Is she not the wife of that vampire who is hunting for me?”

Rosetta's pulse jumped to her throat. “Let me see that!” She snatched the vellum invitation from his grasp.

This was obviously some scheme that the Duchess of Burnrath had devised. But how much did she know about Rosetta's failed assassination attempt? And worse, what had she told her husband?

“Was the invitation delivered here?” she asked, panic nearly choking her. If that was the case, Ian knew she was hiding John, and if he knew that, most likely he knew what else she had done.

“No, the letter was delivered to my flat. I have no idea how the woman received my address.” John sat down at the table and sliced a loaf of bread.

“I am relieved that you did not go, John. Obviously it was a trap.” She noted the dark circles under his eyes and her heart wrenched. The poor darling, these last few months had been so hard on him.

“I assumed that very thing myself,” John said, running his hand through his hair in that pensive way she so adored. “Still, I feel a measure of regret. She is a very talented writer, and I would have been so delighted to make her acquaintance. Did you know that she wrote a few ghost stories under the name of Allan Winthrop? They were quite good.”

Rosetta heaved a bitter sigh and sat down at the table across from him. The very forces of the universe appeared to be conspiring to keep her lover in peril, no matter how fervent her attempts to extricate him from danger. Her mind cast about for a solution to this latest problem. Odd it was that this invitation had come from the Duchess of Burnrath. She frowned. In fact, it was very odd that her lord had taken a mortal bride at all, since he had no intention of Changing her. The duchess must be a very compelling creature indeed to gain such a hold over her powerful master.

The gossip pages idolized Angelica and vilified her alternately with every article. She was reputed to be “fast,” and she kept company with certain “notorious persons.” Her wedding to the duke was still the talk of the season. The nuptials had been performed after a hasty and scandal-ridden courtship, during which she was seen at his residence before the proposal. Also, she'd been thrown out of Almack's shortly before the wedding.

For the past few months, rumors had said that the duke and duchess were estranged, most likely due to the very shocking ball the duchess had hosted at Burnrath House. But the papers now said that the couple had reconciled. All sources reconfirmed that theirs had been a love match all along.

A
love
match…
Rosetta's mind raced. If indeed her master was in love with Angelica, he would do much for her safety, just as she would do anything to keep John from harm. She lit on an idea. If her scheme worked, their worries would be over at last.

“Fetch my writing materials from my desk, would you, love?” she asked. “I think you should write an invitation of your own. I suppose you'll meet Her Grace after all. I have a plan.”

***

Angelica opened the letter from John Polidori with great curiosity. An amused smile played across her lips as she guessed at its contents. The gathering had been held two days ago and now he was declining? What a silly man he was! She stroked Loki behind his velvety ears as she read.

Dearest Duchess of Burnrath,

I am sorry I was unable to make an appearance at your gathering as it sounds as if I would have much enjoyed it. If you accept my apology, please permit me to extend an invitation of my own. I will be having a similar gathering of writers at Number 3 Great Pulteney Street in Soho tomorrow night at six o'clock. I would be honored if you attended and heartily look forward to making your acquaintance and sharing discourse on the written word.

Faithfully yours,

John Polidori

Angelica smiled, hardly able to believe her good fortune. At last, she would have the opportunity to meet the man who had known her idol and who had written the first vampire story in English.

She wondered what Ian would say when she told him she had met the man he'd been searching for this past year. She recalled that Polidori's story had endangered Ian's reputation in the first place. Angelica supposed in a way that she ought to thank the man, for if he hadn't caused a vampire craze in Europe, then Ian would have had no inclination to marry her. On the other hand, it was likely that the same craze that inspired the vampire hunter to try to kill her beloved husband. The letter shook in her hands. The cat jumped up and batted at the parchment. Angelica put the letter in a desk drawer.

Did Dr. Polidori know of the existence of vampires? She resolved to use this opportunity to question him and learn what she could. Perhaps Ian wouldn't be angry with her if she could solve the mystery, and she resolved to do the best she could in gleaning information from the man.

Angelica was so excited that she could hardly sleep that night, and the next day she agonized over her wardrobe, struggling to decide which outfit would make her appear most like a serious gothic authoress. She finally decided on a dark blue satin gown with a matching hat and dyed ostrich plume. Then she went to her writing room and endured another battle with indecision as to which of her writings she would share with him. After nearly two hours, she decided on the one where a witch's curse awakened corpses from the grave.

Her heart beat harder in anticipation as the carriage approached the district of Soho. She felt a momentary pang of pity that he had to live in such an impoverished area and wondered if it would hurt his pride if she offered to sponsor him as she had a few other writers. She looked down at her gleaming gown, thankful she wasn't wearing jewels.

“We are here, Your Grace,” Felton called as the carriage slowed.

The address at which they stopped was nicer than many of the residences they passed. Maybe the meeting would not be awkward after all. She adjusted her gown and straightened her hat as Felton helped her out of the carriage.

“I hope everything goes well, Your Grace.” He returned to his seat, taking out a book for the wait.

The man who greeted Angelica at the door was surprisingly young and handsome. With his darkly sensual Italian features, he was nothing like she had pictured a writer or physician. His full lips twisted into an awkward smile as he bowed. “Your Grace. I am glad you were able to come to my humble abode.”

She curtsied and returned the smile, hoping to put him at ease. “It is a great honor to finally meet you, Dr. Polidori.”

Her greeting seemed to fluster him further. “The honor is mine. However, I am no longer a practicing physician,” he mumbled. “Please, do come in.”

The furnishings of the flat were humble yet tasteful. Still there was a stale quality to the air that seemed to indicate the place hadn't been lived in long. And something else was wrong. The house was quiet. Too quiet for a soiree.

“I hope I am not too early,” she said, shifting on her feet.

“Not at all, you are right on time. Would you care for a glass of wine, Your Grace?”

“That would be nice.” She eyed a vase of Venetian glass on a stand near the settee and wondered which question she would ask him first.

He nodded, running a hand through his thick black curls as if flustered. “Then please have a seat and I shall fetch your drink.”

When she turned to sit, he grabbed her from behind and shoved a handkerchief in her face.

With a muffled shriek, she struggled. She had almost succeeded in twisting away from him when her limbs suddenly weakened. The stench of the cloth was so thick that she felt like she was swallowing it. The cloth was soaked with a pungent substance and her head swam with dizziness. Angelica gagged as blackness tinged her vision. Her lips formed a question, a protest. But no sound came.