Midnight Secrets (11 page)

My thoughts of Sean had grown insufferably persistent, and it wasn’t until I was pushing the vegetables around in my bowl that I honed in on what was bothering me. Was Prudence currently his mistress?

In my opinion, Sean had he made advances on me. His search of my person that first night had been personal as had his murmured notion to meet him in the library one evening. Today, he’d been even more familiar. So had I.

As soon as Bridget and I reached our room the question burst from me. “What is Lady Prudence’s relationship to the Killdaren? Is he going to marry her?”

“What’s that, you said? Lady Prudence? Ack, it’s Miss Prudence. Though now educated, she’s a cropper’s daughter, and he’s the legitimate albeit second son of the Earl of Dartraven. He could never marry her. Should anything happen to the viscount, then the Killdaren would be heir to the title. He’ll have to marry well, most likely a daughter of an earl or a duke.”

“Did he father the child? It’s not right that he continues to besmirch her reputation by having her live here in his home.” I paced across the room, fueled by the injustice.

Bridget looked puzzled a moment. “She don’t want to be living where she grew up at, that’s for sure. A bad place, I tell ya. Besides, Prudence has never said who the wee one’s father is. Could be the viscount at that, but it was the Killdaren who sent Prudence off to be educated and lets her and the wee one live here. So I’m thinking she’s his.” She lowered her voice. “But I hear the viscount’s not to be trusted with the ladies. Why, he’s worse than Stuart Frye ever thought of bein’.”

Every question surrounding the Killdarens only seemed to lead to more questions.

Bridget diligently worked at learning to read every night. She’d progressed to reading all simple words without assistance and insisted on reading the first page of the story over and over until she knew every word. Then we spent part of the evening working on her speech, remembering to pronounce
h’s
and
g’s
and correcting
you
and
your
for
ya
and
yer.
Once we finished, Bridget went right to sleep, leaving me alone with thoughts of
him
.

I turned to the vampire book again for help, thinking it was time for me to learn what happened to the woman who had wandered into the bowels of the church to meet a man she never should have gone to meet.

Instead of sinking his fangs into the woman’s neck, the vampire brushed his lips over her throbbing pulse and lightly teased her skin with the tip of his fangs. “I can feel the heat of your blood, my lady. I can almost taste your richness. You make my blood surge for the pleasure of the hunt and the need for a mate,” the vampire said, pulling her into his velvet bed until she knelt between his legs.

She could feel him too, the heat of him, the lure of his desire for her. She’d only known the scorn of her plainness, the brunt of rejection, and the cut of her loneliness. He looked at her as if she were Venus. His want was greater than anything she’d ever known and more frightening than anything she’d ever experienced.

She turned away, trying to fight his pull, knowing instinctively that her soul hung in the balance. But he wouldn’t let her go.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

The growing surge of her own want forced her to meet his demand. She lifted her gaze to his, and he smiled as he stared deeply into her eyes, entering her soul.

“You’re mine, my beauty.” He reached up and pulled loose the tie of her cloak, letting it fall from her shoulders. Then he slid open the buttons of her gown, discarding her fichu and her modesty.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“Call me Armand. As Solomon feasted upon his love, so I shall you for eternity.” He tugged her gown from her shoulders, exposing her bosom and the pounding of her heart. Then he bent to taste the creamy silk of her flesh.

Heat swept through me, sending everything inside me into a jumble. Good heavens! I jumped up and threw the book under my cot, stripping off my dress and underclothes to take yet another meager bath in the wash basin.

The ewer and the basin were empty. I couldn’t believe it. My first response was to call our housekeeper and make a gentle complaint about the oversight. I’d made it across the room and had my hand on the doorknob when it hit me that I wasn’t at home. There was no housekeeper here to fill my basin at this late hour, because filling my basin was my responsibility to take care of, in and amongst the many hours that I spent laboring. Tears stung my eyes.

I knew I’d find water in the kitchens. A lot of water. I could even have heated water. There was also that discarded hip-bath in the storeroom. Perhaps for just a short while I could make use of it. Blissful relief and heavenly cleanliness was but a daring stairwell’s descent away.

Without giving myself a chance to think twice, I hurriedly slipped on my soft cotton nightdress along with my light robe, grabbed soap, milk and rose cream, and quietly left my room. At the moment I didn’t care if Mrs. Frye discovered me, or if the whole of the castle saw me naked.

Tonight, very little moonlight filtered through the windows. The small candle I held only let me see my next step. My ears strained to catch the slightest sound, but I heard nothing. In fact, for an old castle, it was unnaturally quiet. By the time I reached the kitchens, my nerves were scraped raw by the folly of my own imagination about what might be lurking in the dark shadows around me.

Upon second consideration, spending any more time than absolutely necessary in the kitchens alone was not a good idea. So my dream to slip into a hot bath in the discarded tub quickly changed to gathering a ewer of water and going back to my room, though I didn’t know how I would manage to carry the water, my things, and a candle.

I’d just filled the ewer and reached for my soap and cream when the voices of gentlemen and booted footsteps grew louder, as if coming my way. In my haste to blow out the candle, I spilled water down the front of my gown and on the floor. I set the ewer on the counter, looking for a rag to clean up the mess so no one would slip on the spill.

“When are you going to free yourself from this elaborate crypt you’ve buried yourself in?” The unfamiliar man’s voice came on the heels of booted steps as several men entered the kitchens.

Good Lord! I ducked instantly down, searching for an escape before I could be caught.

“I’m content,” Sean answered, the deep richness of his lilting voice unmistakable. Light flooded the room, and I slid beneath the counter.

“Good God. You and Blackmoor both!” another man exclaimed. “It’s a bloody shame. This rift between you has got to end.”

“It will end when one or both of us are dead, Colin. If you and Ashton wish to persist in discussing this topic, then you’d best leave now.”

“Bloody hell, but you’re a cold bastard. Your brother said to tell you—”

“Nothing. Alex said nothing. I meant what I said, Colin.”

The chilling slice of Sean’s tone pierced right to the center of my stomach, leaving me feeling queasy. I huddled deeper into the corner under the counter.

“He’s right, Drayson. There’s no point in resurrecting Lady Helen’s murder—”

“No bloody point? Good God, man. This whole situation is my fault. In eight years I’ve yet to forget. Every time I shut my eyes at night, I see her battered face, and every night I suffer the regret of the damned. If I hadn’t told the constable that I’d seen you or Blackmoor exit the maze, none of this would have ever—”

“Enough!”

Steps grew closer and the sight of black boots tucked into black pants that molded themselves intriguingly to muscular legs moved in front of me, and I nearly gasped aloud. Instead of the sure-footed, predatory pace I expected, he had to make use of a cane. Not heavy use, but enough to show me his need of the dragon headed cane was necessary and not an affectation.

In the echoing wake of his shout, I heard Sean sigh. Then he spoke softly, but still faced the wall, leaving his back to the men in the room. “Colin, what you don’t understand is there is nothing you or anyone could have done to stop what happened, nor what is to come. I’ve lost my appetite tonight. Why don’t you and Ashton come back tomorrow? It will be a better night for hunting anyway.”

His voice held such despair that I had to squeeze my hands into fists to keep from trying to soothe anything within reach, even if it was the tightness in my own chest. Then his last sentence filtered through. Hunting? What sort of hunting occurred at night? A flash of the vampire pulling the woman into his velvet crypt blazed before my eyes.

“Bloody hell, I’ve—”

“Said more than you should have, Colin. Let’s go to the pub and come back tomorrow.”

“Novel idea, Ashton,” Sean said dryly. “I’ll see you both then. But make it a little later. Around midnight."

“But—”

“Bloody hell, Colin, shut up. If there’s more, save it for the pub. Sorry, we’ll be back tomorrow at midnight and be hungrier for the treat. She’s as bright as Venus you say?”

“A beauty. I’ll see you then.”

My thoughts rioted. Hunt? Venus? Beauty? Good Lord!

Another deep sigh echoed softly followed by receding steps told me the men had left. I kept my breaths shallow, doing my best not to make the slightest noise, waiting for Sean to leave, but he didn’t. He stood facing the wall for what seemed like forever.

When he turned, he walked directly to the counter I hid beneath. Then he knelt, grabbed my arm, and hauled me out into the light like a sack of potatoes. Potatoes that had turned completely to mush.

My pulse pounded to such a deafening sound I couldn’t hear a single thought other than I knew I was done for. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, irrationally feeling that if I couldn’t see him then maybe he’d just disappear.

“Well, what excuse do you hav—” His voice died into a hiss.

Silence pressed so heavily upon me that I thought it had suffocated me until I realized I’d forgotten to breathe. Sucking in air, I opened my eyes, surprised to find Sean staring at me as if frozen as well. I followed the direction of his gaze, looking downward. My robe had fallen open and the water I’d spilt on my nightdress had rendered it transparent. My breasts might as well have been completely uncovered.

“Oh, God!” I cried.

“From what I see, you ought to be praising Him rather than lamenting.” His green gaze feasted hungrily on my breasts, much as the vampire in the book had feasted upon the woman.

Don’t bite me, I thought as my vision went dark; a roar much like that of sea deafened me as a black tide tried to swallow me completely.

Chapter Seven

I reeled and saw the cold hard stone of the floor rise to meet me. Just before I collided with it, a rough jerk pulled me back and I landed with my head propped against Sean’s hard thighs. He’d caught me, cushioning my fall by easing me and himself to the floor.

“Fainting won’t save you.” His dark brows drew to an exasperated frown over eyes narrowed with suspicion.

I didn’t care what the consequences were. I would not succumb to this man as the woman in the vampire book had. I glared at Sean and tried to muster a formidable outrage. “Who needs to faint? I’m certain that any moment now, your chivalrous impulses will reassert themselves, and you’ll apologize for dragging me across the floor like a barbarian.”

It was the best I could manage at the moment because every muscle inside me had the substance of drifting sand.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and I stared at them, wondering at the deceptively soft fullness of his lips. Were his teeth a little pointed?

Good Lord. I had to be losing my mind. There were no such things as vampires. My grandfather’s impossible stories of Celtic lore and Druid magic had apparently seeded a wild imagination inside of me after all.

“She speaks like the most proper of ladies, but her eyes sing a different tune. Your fascination with my mouth isn’t going to save you either. What is the wandering rose doing here dressed like this?” He sniffed the air then frowned. “Well, not quite a rose tonight, I’m afraid. I want an answer. What are you doing here?”

I blinked, shocked. “You…you…dare to tell me I smell?” I was incensed. “I’ll have you know that if
you
had
proper
bathing facilities for your employees and clean uniforms, then I wouldn’t have been down here looking for bathing water. I wouldn’t have spilt water on myself when I heard you and your friends, and my indelicate smell and improper dress would have never been brought to your attention. This whole incident is
your
fault.”

“Indeed. Servants now require bathing facilities in addition to free use of my library? Are there any other grievances that need addressing, or undressing, in your opinion?” he asked, glancing back at my breasts, which felt oddly on fire and still exposed at the moment despite my concealing robe.

“Yes, since you’ve asked. Fresh uniforms daily. Higher wages. More time than just a half-day Sunday to see family. And hope. Hope of a future.” I shoved my elbow back so that I could angle up from his lap and face him with some measure of dignity.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, dumping me off him.

I landed with a thud on the floor. Now free of his grasp, I quickly got to my feet, still clutching my robe closed, and started to run from the room. He groaned and I peeked over my shoulder. When I saw that he still sat on the floor, I skittered to a stop. He had his eyes shut and appeared to be taking deep breaths.

“Are you ill?” I said, taking a cautious step toward him.

“I’ll live.” His voice rasped deeply. He still didn’t open his eyes.

Surely, I hadn’t harmed him. All I did was sit up. And I was so little compared to his size. “You’ve not a very stalwart constitution.” I stepped closer and frowned down at him.

He opened his eyes then, a direct, hard stare that slammed into me like a desert wind. He didn’t have to say a word to tell me very little separated me from finding out just how stalwart his constitution was. “Perhaps that was a hasty assessment.” I backed away.