A Vampire's Rise (9 page)

This arousal could have been better timed. I shook it off. “That carriage, it was yours?”

“Yes.”

“You saved my life?”

“You’re reckless.”

“That’s the first time anyone’s ever made that remark about me.” I climbed out of bed. “Roelle, what the hell happened to him?”

She wrapped her pale, delicate fingers around the bedpost and hugged it.

I gestured. “Please don’t come any closer.”

“Daumia, lay back down.”

I placed my feet firmly on the floor. Those long, red fingernails of hers would leave a mark, scratching a man’s back until he came.

My back.

Not arousal, I’d confused it with the excitement stirred by danger.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.” Her heavy-lidded gaze held mine.

There were no marks on my hands from the vines. I turned to face the vanity and peered into the mirror. I peeled back the bandage and to my astonishment my ear had healed. “How long have I been here?” Blood on my collar was the only suggestion of an injury. I remembered the sword slicing through, shivered and spun round, lifting my shirt and checking my back. Again no laceration where I thought I’d been stabbed, caused me to question my judgment.

Her curious expression faded. “How much do you remember?”

“Everything.”

She stepped toward me. “Then we have a problem.”

Chapter 13

A COLD CUP PRESSED against my lips.

I shoved it away and scrambled up, leaning back against the headboard.

“Steady.” Miguel sat on the edge of the bed, frowning.

I welcomed the familiarity of my four poster bed, enshrined within the long, sweeping net that kept the mosquitoes at bay in summer and shrouded me against the maid’s inquisitive gape on mornings when I craved privacy.

“How long have I been asleep?” I asked.

“Try to settle down.” He gave me the cup.

“How long?”

“A day.”

“How long was I away for?”

“A week.”

“What happened?”

“I was going to ask you that.”

“What time is it?” I gulped the rest of the water.

“Seven.”

“Morning or evening?”

“Evening.” His tone was anxious.

“Everything seems so foggy.”

“We’ve checked you over. You have no injuries.” He pulled open the curtains.

“Close them.” I motioned to the long, white drapes.

“We found you collapsed by the front door.”

I examined my left ear, but it felt normal. “Please, close the curtains.”

Miguel lifted the window latch and opened it. “And you need fresh air.”

I flopped back down onto the pillow.

“You’re home now.” He rested beside me. “Where did you go?”

“To see Alicia.”

He folded his arms. “How did you find her?”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

“She’ll come round.”

“She has a son.”

“That’s wonderful.”

I pulled the bed sheet up and over me. “Senator Grenaldi’s the father.”

“She married well.”

“She’s not his wife.”

Miguel flinched.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” I wiped sweat from my brow.

“The shock of seeing Alicia after all this time was too much perhaps?”

I had a vague memory of Alicia’s awful grimace when she saw me for the first time in years, and the emptiness of her stare, sorely reminding me of the distance festering between us. I cursed my inability to rescue her.

He patted my shoulder. “Why don’t you write to her?”

“I don’t think the letter would reach her.”

“I’ll hand deliver it.”

I stared at him to make my point. “I don’t want you anywhere near Vigo.”

“Is that where you went?”

The warm breeze billowed the curtains.

He topped up my cup. “The Romany performers asked a high price for their main act?”

“Annabelle? She’s still here?”

“She is.”

I slid down the headboard and stared up at the ceiling.

“She’s done nothing but talk about you since she’s been here.” His eyes lit up.

I smiled.

“You have two letters.” He handed me an envelope. “This one came two days after you left.”

I ripped it open.

Velde,

My lawyers are scribing the deeds of ownership to your estate. The papers will arrive shortly. See that you sign them.

FDG

Miguel studied my reaction. “Everything all right?”

The coward hadn’t even signed his name. “There were two?” I tucked Felipe’s letter back into the envelope.

“This one has the Royal Seal of King Ferdinand V.” He gave me the second dispatch.

The luxurious parchment and royal crest illustrated its noble source. Peeling back the adhered seal, I eased out and unraveled the scroll.

He leaned in. “What does it say?”

“I’ve been knighted.”

“Is this one of your jokes?”

“I can’t accept it.”

Miguel peeked at the official parchment. “Is it real?”

I nodded.

He lowered himself down onto one knee.

“Please don’t.” I gestured for him to stand. “I didn’t earn it.”

“Well, the king doesn’t bestow such an honor unless—”

“Evidently he does.”

“Well, you did give him our best horse. Only you would consider refusing a royal command. You don’t get to decline.” He withdrew.

I wondered if it was heresy to tear it up.

* * * *

My mind raced to unravel the chaos.

Although my memory had fractured, I recalled being at the senator’s residence. Those injuries had seemed so real. I’d lost a week and hated the feeling.

Annabelle appeared at the doorway, a vision of loveliness. Light from the corridor illuminated her.

“Daumia, how are you?” She came closer, reached for my hand, and kissed it. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” She picked up the cup from the bedside table and gave it to me.

“How long have you been a dancer?” I tried to work out her age.

She lifted the net out of her way and sat beside me. “My father sold me to the Romany. I’ve danced for them ever since.”

I was about to ask her to dance for me again, but couldn’t now, not after hearing that.

She gazed about, as if taking in the room.

“It wasn’t always this way for me.” I caught myself staring at her.

“This wasn’t your family’s home?”

“No.”

“Then how did you end up as master?”

I raised myself up onto my elbows. “A mixture of luck and,” I scratched my head, “hard work.”

“Miguel told me it’s because you work alongside the ranch hands that the staff admire you.”

I drank the rest of the water.

“How long can I stay here?” she asked.

She bestowed the very image of innocence. Having stolen her away, I was no different than her father who’d betrayed her trust, or the men he’d sold her to. No different than Felipe who’d laid a claim to her.

I reached for her but quickly withdrew my hand.

I’d closed my heart before. This time would be no exception. I had to let Annabelle go.

Chapter 14

THE LAST TIME I’D seen Salvador, it had been sans clothes.

I now sat next to him at the Moran’s dinner table, both of us acting as though nothing had passed between us.

The other guests, three in number, were all nobility. I perused them one by one and gauged their characters from the little they revealed of themselves.

General Hernandez, the stocky gentleman who sat beside me, was Salvador’s commanding officer. Hernandez’s rugged features indicated a man who’d seen many a battle and wasn’t shy of getting down and dirty with the troops, thus earning their respect. Yet Hernandez’s unsteady eye indicated his need for approval. Perhaps such insecurity had been a catalyst for his desire for promotion into the highest ranks.

Countess Miranda Ebro, with her painted face and tight bodice, her attractiveness enhanced by her confidence, was a lady in her thirties. A widow no doubt, revealed by the sadness in her eyes and the way she sighed deep in thought throughout the evening.

Lady Rosalie Ambrith, with her hooked nose and small mouth, had a fixed expression of disapproval. A lady eager to offer criticism, her way of making the world a better place, ensured her strict, moral legacy continued unabated. Even I couldn’t win her over.

All the guests warranted a good stare.

And Salvador, with his dashing good looks and captivating smile, his bravery warranted the title I held—a fine officer who showed a deep respect for his men, and a willingness to hear both sides of a story before sharing his opinion. When he focused on me, arousal soon followed.

Señor Moran proposed a toast to Spain’s new knight of the realm. I accepted the honor, hoping to convince them I’d earned it. As the alcohol flowed, so did the camaraderie.

Salvador enthralled me. I found it difficult to define the cause of the numerous fissions, the fine wine or Salvador’s firm hand brushing my thigh.

He leaned in close and whispered, “Rumor has it that the flamenco dancer is a guest at your estate.”

“And what else do the rumors say?” I asked.

“That you’ve found favor with the king with your Andalusians.”

“His highness has acquired several of our horses.”

“Pleased to hear it.”

“I’ve selected yours from my finest stock.”

Salvador beamed.

I sipped my wine, forcing my confidence. “Tell me what you know of Senator Grenaldi.”

“He’s ambitious.” Salvador’s gaze held mine as if to exaggerate his point. “A man not to be crossed.”

“In what way?”

“He uses questionable tactics.”

“He likes to win?”

Salvador raised his eyebrows. “He does.”

“And you want to work for him?”

“He gets things done.”

“What about his wife?” I looked away briefly.

“The king’s cousin. That’s a marriage of alliances.”

“To further his political career?”

“Felipe blatantly keeps a lover.”

I nodded casually. “Doesn’t his wife complain to the king?”

Salvador topped up my glass, shooing away a waiter. “The king has more mistresses than you can count.”

“So Felipe’s wife is powerless?”

“But she knows that affair won’t last.” Salvador shrugged. “Felipe believed his wife to be barren, so he took a mistress and fathered a bastard.”

“A son?”

Salvador nodded. “Felipe’s wife is pregnant.”

Alicia and her child’s days under Felipe’s roof were numbered. Though not knowing why I fretted, Salvador offered a reassuring smile. I followed his gaze.

“The countess is very wealthy,” he whispered. “She’s declined many an offer of marriage.”

“The widow?”

“Yes. Have you met her?”

“No, never.”

“Well, you’re spot on. She’s good friends with the senator. Insatiable appetite.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Not me, her.” He burst into laughter.

My thoughts wandered to Annabelle, her sweetness, her innocence, how long she might stay.

The countess blinked her long lashes at me.

I reeled with dread as I considered Salvador’s words, and found no amusement in the countess’ subtle flirting.

* * * *

Salvador and I found the opportunity to withdraw from the other visitors. We sauntered outside into the cool evening air. The stuffy dinner party wasn’t my scene, and by the way Salvador loosened his necktie, it wasn’t his, either. The garden possessed a lush assortment of greenery and the well-tended flowers sprung up around us. I avoided treading on them as we crossed the stony pathway and leaned against an ivy covered wall.

“You seem pensive.” Salvador gave me a quizzical look. “I think you know me well enough to trust my discretion.”

I turned to face him. “Perception is reality.”

“For some, yes.”

“The Pope has received a royal warrant to purify the kingdom of Spain.”

He nodded. “The Church has sanctioned an inquisition.”

“What are your thoughts?”

“The king’s word is final.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I knew you were a royalist.”

Salvador gestured for us to continue walking. “Your knighthood, it has something to do with this?”

I followed him further into the garden. “We have reason to believe that we have a heretic amongst us.” I gazed off at the dramatic landscaping.