Midnight Embrace (29 page)

"So, my lord, have I passed the test?"

He drew back, his eyes narrowed. "You were not afraid of what you saw?"

"I was at first," she confessed. "It was frightening to see you lying there so still. I was afraid you were really and truly dead. But then I realized I had nothing to fear from you, Alesandro. Dead or alive, you would never hurt me."

He glanced at the bedside table, noting the absence of the dagger.

"I hope it wasn't an heirloom or anything," she said, following his gaze.

"What have you done with it?'

"I threw it in the fire."

"Ah, 'Lisa, you have the heart of a lioness."

"I could have had
your
heart," she retorted with a grin. "Did you really expect me to cut it out?"

"I would rather have you destroy me than leave me."

"I shall do neither, my lord." She drew the blankets over him at the sound of a knock on the door. "That will be Dewhurst with your water." She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "I shall leave you to your bath."

He caught her by the hand as she turned to go. "Will you not stay and wash my back?"

It amazed him that she could still blush after the night they had spent together. There was no part of her that he had not touched or tasted,.

"Yes, my lord, if that is your desire."

"Among others," he replied, a bold glint in his eye.

Laughing softly, Analisa unlocked the door.

Analisa laid her knife and fork aside, took a sip of wine, then sat back in her chair. Alesandro sat across the table from her, watching her eat. He had all but forgotten what it was like to partake of solid food, could no longer remember the texture of bread, the flavor of meat or fowl, the sweetness of honey or marmalade save what he sometimes tasted on Analisa's lips. Once, soon after he had been made vampire, he had eaten a slice of ham. It had made him violently ill. The only thing his stomach would accept was a bit of red wine now and then.

She looked at him over the rim of her glass. "Where do we go from here?"

He shook his head, not understanding her question.

"I passed your test. Does that mean you will stop trying to send me away?"

"Ah. It does begin to look as though I am stuck with you."

"Stuck with me!" She made a very unladylike face at him.

He laughed out loud. It was a rich, full-bodied sound, and she determined then and there to elicit it more often.

"Analisa, my sweet, you are such a joy to me."

"And you to me."

"You are sure you want to stay here with me, to spend the rest of your life with me? Think carefully on your answer, 'Lisa, for once you are truly mine, I will not let you go. The only thing that will part us is death. Yours, or mine."

"I've done nothing but think of it," she replied. "Don't you know that?"

" 'Lisa."

He spoke her name with such love, such emotion, that she couldn't stay her tears.

He was at her side in an instant, drawing her up into his embrace, his lips moving in her hair as he whispered that he loved her, would love her all the days of her life.

She clung to him, her arms tight around his waist, knowing, in the deepest part of her being, that she was where she belonged.

She offered no protest when he swung her into his arms and carried her swiftly up the stairs to his room.

He placed her on the bed, his eyes hot as they moved over her. She smiled with anticipation as he closed the door, shutting out the rest of the world.

"Will you now make an honest woman of me?" she asked.

She was lying on top of him, her arms folded across his broad chest, her chin resting on her arms.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes, very much." She leaned forward and kissed him lightly. "Will you marry me, my lord doctor?"

"Whenever you wish."

"Truly?"

"Truly." He smiled as her face lit up like a child's at Christmas. "Where would you like to be wed?"

"I don't know." She hesitated a moment. "Could we be married in a church? With lots of flowers and candles?"

"If you wish."

"Oh, I do, very much."

"I shall arrange for the church. You will need a dress. Have Mrs. Thornfield take you into the city."

"She still loves you, doesn't she?" Analisa stroked his cheek. "Someday I'll be as old as she is," Analisa murmured, her expression troubled. "Will you still love me then?"

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. "I will always love you. Your outer beauty may fade, but you will always be beautiful on the inside. And I will always see you as you look now, your eyes filled with love and your skin glowing and your lips swollen from my kisses."

In a single fluid move, he rolled over and tucked her beneath him. "So, Analisa, my sweet, you need but name the day."

She frowned thoughtfully. "A week from Sunday? That should give me time enough to have a dress made, shouldn't it?"

He shrugged. "With enough money behind you, anything is possible. Spend whatever you wish." He smiled down at her. "Buy yourself a whole new wardrobe."

"Won't it be painful for Mrs. Thornfield to go shopping with me?" she asked. "I know if I were in her shoes, I should hate to watch another woman getting ready to marry the man I loved. Maybe I should take Frannie instead."

"No," he said adamantly. "She is too young. You will take Mrs. Thornfield. And have Farleigh accompany you as well. He can wait for you outside."

She looked up at him with a faint expression of alarm. "Why do I need Farleigh to stay with me? What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing. I am only being cautious—"

"Because of Rodrigo? But surely he can't hurt me during the day. Can he?"

"No, 'Lisa, but the city can be a dangerous place. I am not willing to take any chances, not now." He gazed down at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Will you stay the night with me?"

With a nod, she drew his head down and kissed him, all else forgotten but the need that burned so brightly between them.

When she woke in the morning, she was alone in his bed. Troubled, she wondered why he had left when he had asked her to stay. And then she saw the note. And the single red rose with the thorns cut away. Smiling, she unfolded the sheet of paper.

I love you, my sweet Analisa, and count the hours until I can hold you in my arms again. Yours in life and death.

Alesandro

Laying the note aside, she picked up the rose. It was blood-red and perfect, the petals as soft as velvet against her cheek.

She rang for Frannie, knew as soon as the maid entered the room that Alesandro had informed the household of their upcoming nuptials.

"Cook is preparing your breakfast," Frannie said. She held out a robe for Analisa. "Your bath is ready. Farleigh will have the coach at the front door by the time you've finished breakfast."

"Thank you." Analisa belted the robe at her waist, picked up the rose and the note, and left Alesandro's chamber.

She found a dozen red roses in a crystal vase on her dressing table, as well as another note, which simply said,
I love you. A
.

Tossing her robe on the bed, she took a leisurely bath. She wished Alesandro were there to share it with her, wished she could feel his skin against hers, his hands moving over her. She blushed from head to heel as she imagined the two of them in the same tub, their bodies covered with soap suds.

Frannie came to help her dress and do her hair, and then Analisa went downstairs to a very late breakfast. There was a vase of red roses in the center of the dining room table, and a note that said,
I am dreaming of you, even now. A

Lost in thoughts of Alesandro and the night she had spent in his arms, she paid little attention to what Frannie placed in front of her. Alesandro. Just the mere thought of him brought a smile to her face even as she wondered why he had left their bed. She had looked forward to waking beside him even though it was disconcerting to see him lying so still.

Too excited to finish her breakfast, she was about to leave the dining room when Mrs. Thornfield came in.

"The coach is ready whenever you are, miss."

Was it her imagination, Analisa wondered, or did the housekeeper seem more remote than usual? "Thank you, Mrs. Thornfield. Are you ready to go?"

With a nod, the housekeeper put on her cloak and bonnet and followed her out the door.

Definitely aloof, Analisa mused as she descended the front steps. Farleigh was waiting beside the coach. He opened the door and helped both women inside, then climbed up on the box. A moment later, the coach lurched into motion.

Analisa had known the housekeeper would be upset when she learned that Alesandro intended to marry. Analisa couldn't blame the woman for the way she felt. Still, she couldn't help being hurt by the housekeeper's reserve. Mrs. Thornfield had been the closest thing to a friend Analisa had had since leaving the hospital. The woman had made her feel at home, taught her to read and write, praised her efforts. Now she wouldn't even meet Analisa's eyes.

It was a long, silent ride. Analisa gazed out the window, watching the passing countryside, wishing she could think of something to say to ease the tension in the coach, but nothing came to mind. She felt that she owed the housekeeper an apology, but she wasn't sure why. It wasn't as though she had stolen Alesandro from her. According to Alesandro, there had never been any commitment between him and the housekeeper. It wasn't Analisa's fault that Alesandro hadn't loved the other woman. Analisa hadn't even been born at the time. Yet still she felt guilty.

With a sigh, she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Alesandro's image immediately sprang to mind. She pictured him in the stone cottage, his body trapped in sleep. Did vampires dream? She would have to ask him tonight. She smiled, thinking of the hours she would spend in his arms. Alesandro.
Sleep and dream your girlish dreams, and I will make them come true
. She had heard him whisper those words once. At the time, she had thought she had dreamed them, but now… now she wasn't so sure. But, imagined or not, he had indeed made her dreams come true.

She woke at the cessation of movement. Peering out the window, she saw that Farleigh had stopped the coach in front of an exclusive dressmaker's shop.

Farleigh opened the door and handed Analisa out.

Then, instead of staying with the coach, he accompanied Analisa and Mrs. Thornfield to the door of the shop. Mrs. Thornfield followed Analisa inside.

As soon as they entered the building, a tall woman hurried forward to meet them. "Welcome to Womack's," she said, extending her hand. "I am Madame Devereaux. How may I help you."

"I'm getting married," Analisa said, taking the woman's hand. "I need a dress."

"She is also to have a whole new wardrobe," Mrs. Thornfield added. Mrs. Devereaux beamed at Analisa. "It will be a pleasure to serve you." Her gaze moved swiftly and professionally over Analisa's figure. "Have you any preference for a wedding gown?"

Analisa shook her head. "I don't know."

"Let me show you some sketches," the modiste suggested, and for the next hour, Analisa looked at sketches and fabrics, finally settling on a simple gown of white silk with long, fitted sleeves, a square neckline, and a full skirt with a modest train. She chose a full-length veil made of delicate lace.

Madame Devereaux took the necessary measurements and promised the gown would be ready in time for the wedding, then went on to show Analisa a number of other dresses, as well as undergarments. Lastly, Madame Devereaux showed her several lovely nightgowns, one so diaphanous it was like wearing little more than a whisper of black silk. It was quite the most provocative thing Analisa had ever seen. The thought of wearing it, of having Alesandro see her in something so immodest, brought a blush to her cheeks.

Madame Devereaux smiled knowingly as she added the nightgown to Analisa's purchases.

By the time Analisa signed the bill and arranged for everything to be sent to the house, her head was spinning.

Outside, she took a deep breath.

"Are you ready to go home, miss?" Farleigh asked.

"Not yet." She moved down the street, with Farleigh and Mrs. Thornfield trailing behind her. When she reached a cafe, she went inside and ordered a cup of tea and a hot buttered scone. Mrs. Thornfield refused to enter the establishment and waited outside with Farleigh.

Analisa sighed as she poured milk into her tea. Life was going to be quite unpleasant if Mrs. Thornfield continued to be so disapproving and aloof. Perhaps Alesandro would know what to do.

She was about to leave the cafe when Geoffrey Starke paused at her table.

"Miss Matthews," he exclaimed.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Starke."

He gestured at an empty chair. "May I?"