Demon of Mine (23 page)

“
Is
something the matter?” Louise’s eyes were wide and worried. Elsie
cursed her luck for having brought her the sweetest maid in the
house. If anyone else had asked the question after discovering her
sulking in such a ridiculous state, she would have given them a
sharp reply. But Louise hadn’t even gawked at her. In fact, she’d
acted as if waiting upon Elsie was the most natural thing in the
world.

“
No, nothing.” Elsie stood, smoothing her wrinkled skirts,
aware that she’d probably ruined Lucinda’s fine dress with her
tears. “You’re right – we had better hurry.”

Louise smiled,
no doubt relieved by Elsie’s sudden compliance.

The bitter
taste in Elsie’s mouth prevented her from returning the smile. She
would go along with Damon’s wishes and allow herself to be primped
for the party, but only because she couldn’t bring herself to let
Véronique go on thinking that Damon was hers. Her heart broke again
at the thought as she followed Louise from the room. The betrayal
that was causing her heart to ache was worse than what she’d
suffered when Lord Wilkes had snubbed her after claiming her
virginity – much worse. This time, not only had her hope been
betrayed, but her love. And then there was the fact that she was
married to the man who had deceived her – bound to him in the eyes
of God and Church of England for the rest of her immortal life. A
part of her wanted to regret that fact, but it was impossible.
After all, she loved him.

Chapter 13

“
You look
beautiful.”

Elsie gave her reflection a cursory
glance. Though the image in the mirror told a different story, she
did not feel beautiful. Louise bobbed anxiously at her elbow,
surveying her handiwork. She’d done a skilled job of working
Elsie’s hair into an elaborate heap of curls, and had enhanced her
features with the barest hint of rouge, which did wonders for her
ivory vampire’s complexion. The pale yellow gown she’d selected
from Lucinda’s large wardrobe had proved to be a fine choice. The
color suited Elsie and the low, square neckline was more than
flattering. Even as Elsie registered these facts with a sort of
detached appreciation, her insides squirmed with a potent mixture
of dread and anxiety. The party was about to begin, and for the
first time since learning of Damon’s deceit, she would see
him.

Would she be able to keep a
straight face, to maintain her composure in front of the many
guests? It was bad enough that she was basically a housemaid
attending a social function for the affluent and successful –
trying to keep her wild feelings in check on top of it would surely
turn the party into something out of a nightmare. The only worse
thing she could imagine was being alone with her misery
while
Véronique
stalked Damon across the dance floor.

“
Thank you Louise,” Elsie said, turning toward the door.
“You’ve been wonderful.”

Louise
actually blushed, as if she’d just received a compliment from
someone important. News of Elsie’s wedding to Damon hadn’t spread
to the servants yet, had it? Damon and his mother’s conversation
had been private. Elsie dared a guilty glance at her wedding ring.
Whether or not the servants’ suspicions had been confirmed yet,
there would be rumors. Of course, those rumors would be nothing
compared to the gossip that would burn its way through London when
it was discovered that the Remington heir had eloped with a
housemaid. She glanced over her shoulder at the mirror one last
time. Did she really look the part, or was she just being
stupid?

“
Many of the guests have already arrived,” Louise offered a
not-so-subtle hint as Elsie continued to linger, doubting
herself.

With a sigh of
resignation, Elsie turned toward the door once again.

****

The generously sized open room the
party was being held in was already bustling. It was no surprise
that the event was well attended – Remington functions always were.
There was no question that any parties occurring at the Remington
household held a certain dark glamour among London society. Not
quite formal, and yet not completely devoid of decorum, they
unfolded in a sort of twilight state between the rather rigid rules
that were expected at less notorious houses and outright
abandonment of propriety. The daring and curious often attended, as
did those who simply craved a night of release from stricter
expectations. All of London was sure to know about the night’s
events by the next morning.

As usual, there was a little bit of
every sort of entertainment going on. People mingled and conversed,
while others danced. A couple groups of card players were gathered
around tables in the back. It was an unashamedly social occasion
that boasted something for everyone. Except Elsie.

Her stomach fluttered as she entered
the room as quietly as possible, and to her disdain, more than a
few heads turned in her direction. Disappointingly, none of them
were Damon’s. Despite the gaping sense of betrayal that afflicted
her, she would have been glad for a sight of him. He would protect
her from the crowd of wealthy revelers, would be her lifeline in
this sea of confusingly dazzling humanity. And perhaps, just
perhaps, he would say something to her that would somehow explain
the fact that he had both a wife and a woman who fancied herself
his fiancé.

Resigning herself to the fact that he
wasn’t there, she turned to the only other possible avenue of
socially acceptable escape – the set of double doors that led
outside, to a scenic patio at the edge of the garden. There she
could ease her whirling mind and knotted stomach with a breath of
fresh air while avoiding the crowd. All she had to do was make it
all the way across the huge room.

She moved as quickly as she dared,
giving the dancing area a wide berth. Heads turned, and some eyes –
most of them male – alighted with interest, but she donned her best
look of oblivious distraction and glided on, keeping her gaze on
the door lest she become locked in eye contact with someone. At
last she reached the doors, sighing in relief that she’d made it to
them without incident. The night air greeted her as she stepped
outside, cool and refreshing.

The garden was a purple twilight
wonderland that froze the breath in her lungs. Only a day had
passed, and already she’d forgotten how beautiful the night was to
her now. Even her misery couldn’t keep her from admiring the sight.
The roses were vivid to her eyes, and the bushes’ shadows failed to
completely conceal a discreetly kissing couple. Yesterday, she
would have smiled at the sight. Tonight, it brought back memories
that were both sweet and painful. She’d believed Damon when he’d
pulled her gently to the ground in the rose garden and assured her
that he’d had no fiancé. Had she been as big a fool as when she’d
been eighteen, when she’d honestly believed that her affair with
Lord Wilkes would blossom into a true romance?

“
I bought something for you
in the city today.” The familiar voice caressed Elsie’s lonely ears
like silk, causing her heart to rise with hope even as it broke a
little more.

Turning, she faced Damon.

He was a picture of perfection in a
midnight blue tailcoat and matching pantaloons, his hair combed to
a glossy sheen that was blacker and brighter than a raven’s wing.
Smiling, he pressed something into her hand. “Go ahead and open it.
I chose it for the roses. I thought you might like
them.”

She stared down at the object he’d
pressed into her hand – a fan. With trembling fingers, she opened
it. At least for a brief moment she could pretend that all was well
between them, that he was an honest, loving husband presenting his
wife with a gift. “It’s lovely.” Roses had been hand-painted onto
the silk fan in remarkable detail, and the soft mauve lace that
decorated the edge complimented the petals.

He leaned close, his lips brushing her
ear as he whispered. “It’s for more than just looks, really. You
can use it to hide your teeth if you feel tempted to smile or laugh
in front of any of the guests. Nighttime social events can be
tricky business for our kind.”

“
Thank you.” She held the
fan in front of her face experimentally, as much to hide the sad
twist of her mouth as to try her new gift.

Damon would not be fooled so easily.
“Is something the matter, love?”

She nodded, trying to work up the
fortitude to say what must be said.

“
I’m sorry I sent a message
with a maid instead of coming for you. My father was extremely
insistent that I accompany him to a meeting.” He
frowned.

“
It’s not that,” she
sighed. It was now or never, and never was clearly not an option.
“When you were gone, I met a woman just there, in that room.” She
indicated the double doors with her fan. The piano was lost among
the crowd, but its music drifted out into the night, each note
perfectly cheerful. The song seemed meant for someone else – not
Elsie, who was feeling more out of place than ever. “Her name
was
 Véronique
Renard, and she said she’d come here to marry you.”

Damon looked
as if he would have gone pale, had his complexion not already been
so bloodless. “Véronique was here?” His tone lost its velvet edge,
becoming slightly strangled. “In this house?”

“
You didn’t know?” That was to his credit, but the mere fact
that he knew who Véronique was and hadn’t seemed surprised at her
bold claim was quite bad enough.

“
No.” He reached out suddenly, clasping Elsie’s hands in his,
nearly crushing the fan he’d bought her as he forgot to whisper.
“Elsie, forgive me. Véronique’s desire to marry me is completely
one-sided, and I had no idea that she was here in
London.”

“
Is
it true that the two of you were engaged?”

He shook his
head. “No. She wanted to marry me, and my parents were growing
keener on the idea by the day, but… She and I never discussed it.
It was never official.”

The beautiful
garden became a lavender blur as Elsie’s head spun with relief that
was not untainted by jealousy.

“
I
suppose my parents thought I’d be unable to refuse if they sprung
her upon me,” he said, lowering his voice. “You must believe that I
did not know she was coming.”

“
Would you have married her? I mean, if it hadn’t been for me,
if we had not…”

“
No.” His tone was firm. “Never.” Pulling her close, as if to
confess his love for her rather than his disdain for another woman,
he whispered again. “The Renards are wicked beyond belief. They are
a scourge upon Paris, and I would sooner die than inflict them upon
London, or myself.”

“
Wicked? What have they done?”

Realization
flickered in Damon’s dark eyes. “Of course you don’t know. Elsie,
they are like us.”

“
Vampires?” she gasped quietly. That certainly explained
Véronique’s beyond porcelain complexion.

He nodded. “My
parents’ sins seem like child’s play in comparison to the Renard
family’s lavish crimes. Half of the murders in Paris are their
doing. Humans are less than cattle to them – base creatures to be
played with and tormented before they’re destroyed and consumed.
Life means nothing to them.” His sensuous lips twisted in distaste
as he finished his description.

“
Véronique said that her family wishes to become established in
London.”

“
They will never do so if I can help it,” Damon said, seemingly
oblivious to how hard he was squeezing Elsie’s hands.

“
Why would your parents wish for you to marry her if the
Renards are so terrible?”

Damon
responded with a wry smile. “Because they are rich, of course, and
eager to take a cut from England’s industry. My parents see
business partners. Not that they need them,” he sneered. “We
Remingtons are already wealthy to the point that it ought to be
considered a sin to plot ways to acquire more money.”

“
Couldn’t your family engage in business with the Renards
without a marriage, though?” The thought was anything but appealing
after what Damon had said, but it seemed rather obvious.

Damon
shrugged. “Of course they could, but my father is wary of dealing
with them, as anyone with half a mind should be. They are cunning
and deceitful people. I suppose my parents thought that they’d be
more likely to deal fairly with family.”

Elsie nodded.
It seemed there was only one more question to ask. “Does Véronique
know of our marriage?”

“
I
haven’t seen her at the party, and she’s of the sort who can’t bear
to miss a chance to show off. It would seem to me that she’s found
out. With any luck, she’s on her way back to Paris right now.” He
waved a hand dismissively and straightened, speaking in his regular
voice again. “Forget all this for now. I must take you inside and
introduce you as my wife.” He flashed her a closed-lip smile and
proffered an elbow.

Elsie’s
stomach plummeted as she did her best to return his smile. “Do you
really think I’m ready?”

“
There is no question of readiness. You are my wife, and all of
London will know by tomorrow morning whether we tell them or not.
Besides, there is no other proper thing to do, and I am looking
forward to showing you off.” He touched her shoulder lightly and
trailed his fingertips over the slope of her décolletage. “You look
beautiful.”