One Bite Per Night (24 page)

“The Elder arrived early?” Vincent blinked at Ian in horrified disbelief.

“I'm afraid so. Rafe just informed me.” Ian rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He came to your town house first and then to mine. Miss Hobson told him you were here. He is on his way.”

Vincent sighed. “How very helpful of her.” He cursed inwardly as dread curdled his gut. Sooner than expected, he would find out whether he would live or die…and what would become of Lydia. “Which one is it? Please say it isn't the Lord of Rome.”

“Almost as bad. The Lord of Edinburgh, which is why he was able to come so soon.” Ian's face was grave. “We had better fetch Lydia and prepare our defense.”

Just then, Sarah Siddons rushed up to a woman behind them, face pale and eyes wild. “Hand me my smelling salts! I swear I have seen my daughters.”

The woman eyed her with pity as she rummaged through her reticule. “Oh, Sarah, please calm yourself. You must have imagined it—it's the anxiety brought on from those dreams you've been having, along with speaking to that horrid man again. Let us bring Fanny home and have a nice cup of tea.”

Vincent shook his head. This night was only getting worse. He never should have allowed Sally and Maria to visit their mother. Furthermore, he should have sent them away the moment he saw them tonight, despite their clever disguises.

They strode through the exhibits and past the departing patrons. Thomas Lawrence had left his display, and Lydia was nowhere to be seen. Unease curled in Vincent's belly as he searched for her in every direction.

“Do you see any sign of your wife?” he asked, now scanning the area for Angelica. “Perhaps she is with her?”

Ian shook his head. “She had better not be. I sent her to your town house the moment Rafe delivered his missive.”

When he opened his Mark and felt Lydia's presence moving away from the Exhibition, his uneasiness increased, especially when he noticed that Sally and Maria were also gone.
And
so
was
Lawrence.

And Lydia had been infuriated with the man for stealing the credit for her work. Could she have joined the Siddons sisters on their dangerous quest for vengeance?

Although he hoped she hadn't done something so dangerous, the current evidence did not bode well.

His dread deepened when he caught sight of another vampire standing before David Wilkie's painting. The ancient power reverberating from his being marked him as one of the Elders.
The
Lord
of
Edinburgh.
The urge to flee nagged at the back of Vincent's mind, though he knew the Elder undoubtedly had already seen him and Ian.

As if he'd read his mind, the Lord of Edinburgh turned and met his gaze.

“It's always good to see the skilled work of one of my countrymen,” he remarked conversationally, gesturing to the painting he was admiring. His eyes turned cold and assessing. “Lord Deveril, I thought I'd have to run pell-mell all over London to find you.”

Vincent bowed his head respectfully. “I apologize, my lord. I wasn't expecting you until the night after tomorrow.”

“Yes, well it's best to get this over with, don't you agree?” He looked between Vincent and Ian. “Now where is your unsanctioned youngling? I hope you're not hiding her away from me.”

“Of course not, my lord.” His mind grappled with possible excuses. “She needed to feed.”

The Elder's face was inscrutable. “Well, let us go find her then.”

Vincent closed his eyes, trying to breathe past the hammering in his chest. He was utterly and completely doomed.

Rafe waited outside, leaning on a walking stick to disguise his bad arm. From the look of his guard-like pose, it was apparent that the Lord of Edinburgh had charged him to watch the entrance to see if Vincent or Lydia attempted to sneak away.

The Spaniard gave Ian a piercing look before addressing the Elder. “They didn't try to slip away, my lord. Tell me, how were the paintings?”

While Rafe spoke, Ian whispered, “Do you know where she might have gone?”

“I think she went after Lawrence, along with the Siddons sisters.”

His brows drew together, and he began to utter a curse, his mouth clamping shut when the Elder turned back to them. “Shall we be off?”

Vincent nodded reluctantly. “If you don't mind, I shall be able to find her more quickly if we walk. It is easier to feel the Mark that way.” The last wasn't a lie. However, he needed to stall the Elder as long as possible.

“You Marked her before you Changed her?” The Lord of Edinburgh eyed him quizzically. “Why?”

“Because I was her guardian and wanted to be sure she was safe from rogues.”

“Yes, I'd read in your report that she was your ward. But now I understand that she is your fiancée?”

“I thought it the most expedient measure under the circumstances. After all, she can't receive morning callers, much less marry a mortal man anymore.” Vincent didn't mention that he'd already intended on marrying her before that.

“Hmm,” the Elder murmured noncommittally. “Well, find her Mark, and let's be on our way.”

Closing his eyes, Vincent opened himself to the bond he shared with Lydia. Just as he feared, he sensed her to the east, in the direction where Sir Thomas Lawrence lived.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to feign calmness. “She went this way.”

Ian and Rafe exchanged glances and followed along behind them. As they walked, for once Vincent was grateful for the presence of mortals. It gave him an excuse to proceed slowly.

Still, they arrived at Lawrence's flat all too soon. The Lord of Edinburgh eyed the building with suspicion. “It is my impression that it is rude to feed from mortals in their own abodes.”

Vincent forced a lighthearted laugh. “I'd completely forgotten. Lydia had plans to have tea with her mentor after the Exhibition.”

The Lord of Edinburgh gave him a doubtful look. “Without a chaperone?”

“Of course not.” Hopefully it wouldn't be discovered that she was accompanied by two murderous vampires. “I'll fetch her. It'll be only a moment.”

Rafe gave the Elder an unreadable look before turning to Vincent. “I'll go with you.”

The Elder nodded, and so did Ian, the latter giving Vincent a clear message: he would stall the Elder as long as possible.

Vincent headed up the stairs to Lawrence's apartment, praying Rafe would keep his silence.

Not bothering to knock, he opened the door and cursed at the sight before him. Sir Thomas Lawrence lay back on his bed, a blissful smile on his slumbering face as the Siddons sisters lay on either side of him, their fangs plunged in his neck.

Lydia stood before them. She whirled around, golden eyes wide with surprise and guilt.

“What in the hell do you think you're doing?”

Sally and Maria withdrew from Lawrence and bit their fingers to heal the man's wounds. Vincent breathed a silent prayer of thanks that the troublesome sod was still alive.

“It is not what it looks like!” Lydia exclaimed.

Rafe stalked forward, eyes narrowed dangerously. “Oh? And what does it look like, other than these two trying to kill that mortal?”

“I was
stopping
them,” she snapped. “None of you were around when they went after him, so I did what I felt I had to do.”

“Is that why they were draining him while you watched?”

“Well, after all he put them and their family through—not to mention his callous behavior regarding my work—I decided they at least deserved a taste.”

To everyone's surprise, Rafe threw back his head and laughed. “All right, I can understand that. However, you three had better explain yourselves and do it quickly. The Lord of Edinburgh is outside, waiting to begin Deveril's inquest.”

“He's here
now
?” Lydia's choked gasp echoed through the room.

Sally and Maria left the sleeping painter and scrambled off the bed.

“We are so sorry, my lord,” Maria told him. “It is only that he was haranguing our mother at the Exhibition and…” Her voice shook in suppressed horror. “And he was eyeing our niece as if he intended to make her his next conquest.”

“She's only
thirteen
!” Sally cried, wringing her hands. “We wanted only to protect her!”

Vincent could understand that, however… “Your own desire for vengeance had nothing to do with this?”

Maria gave him a direct look and nodded. “Of course it did. But Lydia had a long talk with us, and we've realized something.”

“And what is that?”

Sally stepped closer and took her sister's hand. “We learned that revenge doesn't really matter to us anymore. All we wanted was to punish him for driving us apart and then causing so much grief that it would have killed one or both of us. We wanted to hurt him for separating us.”

“But he didn't separate us.” Maria smiled up at Sally. “We are together, and that matters more than vengeance.”

“I am happy to hear that,” Vincent said drily, and he really was. “However, that doesn't change the fact that yet again you have disobeyed one of my commands. I have no choice but to punish you both. I command you to return to Cornwall immediately, and I will deal with you when I get there.” Suddenly he remembered that he might not be alive to do so. He cleared his throat. “If I am executed, Emrys will carry out your punishment.”

The Siddons sisters bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

They headed for the door, but Rafe stopped them. “I will have someone keep an eye on the painter to make certain he leaves your kin alone.”

Sally's eyes widened. “Thank you. You cannot know how much—”

“And if he causes any trouble when I serve as Lord of this city in Ian's stead, I may be willing to make an arrangement with you as to how to handle him.”

Maria did not bother with thanks. Instead, she threw her arms around the scarred Spaniard and kissed him on both cheeks. Rafe flinched and gently, but firmly, disengaged her. “Go now. And please take the rear exit. You still have your writ of passage, yes?”

They nodded and hurried away.

Vincent blinked at Rafe, unable to hide his shock at the surly vampire's uncharacteristic display of compassion and disregard for the rules.

“Family is an important thing where I come from. I continue to watch over mine,” he said gruffly and opened the door. “The Elder is likely wondering what kept us.”

Lydia cast a last look at the sleeping painter. “Are you going to tell him…about this?”

Rafe shook his head. “I see no need to make it worse for Deveril.”

She beamed and embraced him. He sighed and patted her on the shoulder. Golden eyes tentative, she walked to Vincent. “Are you angry with me?”

“No, but I was worried.” He kissed her on the top of her head. “I still am.”

She squeezed him tight. “And I as well.”

They encountered the Lord of Edinburgh at the door. “What the devil took so long?”

Lydia cringed and pressed herself closer to Vincent. Before he could fabricate an excuse, Rafe answered.

“The painter had dishonestly taken credit for her work, so she gave him a well-deserved dressing down.” Giving Lydia a stern look, he chided her. “There was no need to tell your lord a pretty lie about having tea. Lord Deveril would have understood. Then again, he might have had it out with the lying churl as well.”

Lydia pouted prettily and hung her head. “I am sorry.” Her trembling hand squeezed Vincent's harder.

“I do apologize for the delay,” Vincent told the Elder. “Shall we return to my town house?”

The Lord of Edinburgh nodded, his censorious gaze remaining on Lydia. Vincent pulled her closer, tucking her slightly behind him, every instinct screaming to protect her.

Ian waited outside, casting them an apologetic look before bowing to the Lord of Edinburgh. “My carriage has arrived.”

The Burnrath coach rolled into view, cutting through the thick London fog. Its black wood with silver gilding made the vehicle resemble a funeral hack. Vincent hoped the resemblance wasn't symbolic.

Vibrating with reluctance, he helped Lydia into the carriage and pulled her close to him. Propriety be damned. Lydia gave the Elder a nervous look before burying her head against Vincent's shoulder. Rafe and Ian looked out the windows as though to avoid the sight of the couple who might not see the next moonrise together. Vincent's gaze swept over Lydia's face and hair, drinking in her features for what could be the last time. He could feel her heart pounding in time with the clatter of the carriage wheels. Her fear made him feel even more helpless.

The coach arrived at Vincent's town house, the horses' shoes clattering on the cobblestones with sharp finality. Ian and Rafe stepped out, followed by the Lord of Edinburgh. They waited for Vincent and Lydia to alight and followed behind like an honor guard.

Vincent rang for brandy and bade Aubert to retire once everyone was settled in the parlor. Angelica perched nervously on the settee, swirling a glass of wine and stealing tremulous glances at the Lord of Edinburgh. Pouring a glass for the vampire who would be judge, jury, and executioner, Vincent fought back a burst of insane laughter.
Such
a
civilized
atmosphere, when I am on trial for my life.

After handing everyone their brandy, Vincent sat next to Lydia and took her hand.

The Elder opened his satchel and took a sip of the strong liquor. “Shall we begin?”

Vincent took a drink and nodded. Ian and Rafe did as well, their glasses untouched. Lydia only shivered.

Clearing his throat, the Lord of Edinburgh said, “Vincent Tremayne, Lord of Cornwall, you are charged with the crime of Changing a mortal without sanction from the Elders. Do you admit to committing this crime?”

“I do,” Vincent replied.

“Please explain the details of your crime and how it came to occur.”

Even though everything was in the report he'd submitted, Vincent related the tale, knowing full well the reason for the request. Edinburgh wanted to trap him in a lie.

Once satisfied that Vincent had not deviated from his explanation, the Elder nodded.

“I shall now examine your character and the aftermath of your crime, before your sentence is decided.” The vampire withdrew a sheaf of documents. “I will read the reports and testimonies we've gathered from Cornwall, and then I'll hear from the witnesses.”

As the report was read, a strange tremor of warmth engulfed Vincent. His people had nothing but good to say of him.

“The vampires of Cornwall deem their Lord to be just and abiding of our laws. Our investigator has determined that they have not made these statements under duress.” Shuffling the papers, the Elder added, “I see you also included a petition to name your second, Emrys Adair, to be ruler of Cornwall in the event of an unmerciful judgment.”

Vincent nodded, throat tight.

“Very well, now let's hear from the witnesses. Lord of London?”

Ian gave Vincent a compassionate glance and stood.

“Your Grace, please tell us how you came to be involved in Lord Deveril's crime,” Edinburgh commanded.

Ian surveyed the ancient vampire with an equally implacable gaze. “The Lord of Cornwall requested temporarily to reside in my city so that he could find a husband for his ward.”

“And what did you think of him becoming involved with a mortal in the first place?” A note of derision laced the vampire's voice.

Ian replied blandly, “He was honoring an alliance.”

“A
mortal
alliance,” the Elder practically spat at Vincent. “Why did you not refuse?”

Vincent fought the urge to grind his teeth. “As His Grace said, I was honoring an alliance. In my mortal days, Lydia's ancestor fought beside me in battle. We swore an oath of friendship between our families. One of the conditions was to become guardian to the other's descendants if needed. The girl's grandmother would have had Lydia thrown into an insane asylum if I had not taken her under my care.” He fixed Edinburgh with a pointed stare. “Just because I am now a vampire does not mean I will abandon my honor. I will not break a vow.”

With no rebuttal, the Elder turned back to Ian. “Once Lord Deveril and his charge arrived in your city, did he try to find a husband for her?”

Ian nodded. “Yes, he did, and he received five offers.”

“Why did he not accept one?”

The Lord of London paused a moment, measuring his words. “I believe he decided he wanted her for himself.”

“So you believe his Changing her was deliberate?”

“No, that's not what I am saying!” Ian retorted. “I only mean it is my belief that, had Lydia not suffered the unfortunate accident, he would have filed a petition to Change her.”

“Is this true?” he asked Vincent.

“Yes.” He heard Lydia gasp, and he squeezed her hand in reassurance. Rafael Villar was then called to testify.

Rafe concurred with Ian's theory that Vincent had wanted Lydia for himself, and added, “However, I believe he was a fool to deliberate so long about it.”

“And why do you believe he asked her to wed him?”

“Perhaps he is in love with her?” Rafe's tone held a tinge of sarcasm. “I do know he had intended to do so before she was attacked.”

The ancient's eyes narrowed. “How do you know this?”

“Her chaperone, Miss Hobson, informed me. I would have brought her to confirm my statement, but as she is a mortal, I decided that would not be wise.” He shrugged. “Of course, Deveril may have become engaged to Miss Price to avoid any more attention from the human aristocracy.”

He turned to Vincent. “Which is true?”

“Both,” Vincent answered levelly. “I also wanted to ensure that in the event of my death, Lydia would have wealth, land, and a widow's freedom to make her own way in life without scrutiny, thus reducing the risk of mortals discovering what she is.”

Edinburgh considered this and appeared satisfied. “Now I'll assess the youngling. I understand that Angelica Ashton, consort to the Lord of London, was appointed the youngling's mentor, and Rafael Villar accompanied her to observe her training. Is this correct?”

Vincent and the others nodded solemnly, and Angelica stepped forward with a bow.

“Your Grace, describe your training of Lydia Price. How is she adapting to our ways?”

Angelica faced the Elder fearlessly as she narrated Lydia's progress in hunting and all the things she had told her about a vampire's strengths and weaknesses. “All around, I feel Lydia's adaption to the Change has been exemplary,” she concluded.

“Has there been any sign of madness?” Edinburgh asked sharply.

“Not at all.”

Rafe was called on once more. He confirmed Angelica's testimony, although to Vincent's ire, he did not neglect to describe Lydia's awkwardness and mistakes during her first few hunts.

When asked again if Lydia displayed any indication of madness, the Spaniard shook his head. “Not at all. I also add that I am impressed with Lydia's strength and capabilities, and I believe she shall be a fine addition to our kind.” Rafe turned away before Vincent could give him a nod of gratitude.

The Elder's gaze locked on Lydia. “Under such satisfactory testimony, I acknowledge you, Lydia Price. Have you anything to say on Deveril's behalf?”

Lydia nodded emphatically. “Please, my lord, don't kill him. All of this is my fault. If anyone is to be punished, it should be me.”

Shock waves reverberated through Vincent's body at the pronouncement. He sucked in endless gusts of air until white spots obscured his vision.

He couldn't believe it.

He had not heard correctly.

One look at the duke's pale face answered his dreaded question. The possibility of living without her was a sentence worse than death. And the torture they would put her through…

As the realization hit him, he released the breath he was holding in an earsplitting shout. “No!” Vincent grasped her shoulder and pulled her against him. “She doesn't know what she's saying.”

“Silence!” the Elder snapped and once more faced Lydia. “Why do you feel Lord Deveril's actions are your fault, youngling?”

Lydia lifted her chin and faced the ancient vampire, refusing to tremble as she made her statement. “Because I'm the one who put myself in the position of mortal danger by storming out of the safety of his home and into the path of a cutthroat. If it weren't for his obligation to protect me, he never would have broken your laws.”

“I see.” The vampire stroked his chin. “Well, killing you would certainly teach Lord Deveril a lesson…”

“Please,” Vincent whispered to her in heartbreaking agony. “Do not do this!”

“However, it would be quite a waste, and I cannot ignore the fact that Deveril is still the one who violated the law, so he is the one responsible, regardless of your touching and reasonable defense.” Edinburgh's lips compressed in a grim line. “And execution is the traditional penalty for Changing a mortal without our approval.”

Lydia clung to Vincent and moaned brokenly, “No,
please
!”

“Yet in this case I find myself reluctant to dispense with a Lord Vampire who has been so obedient and peaceful in the past. Never before have we been called upon to settle any conflicts with you.” The Elder paused, watching as everyone held their breath, blatantly enjoying the agonizing tension. “There may be an alternative.”

“What?”
Anything.

“As you well know, governing such a large people across the expanse of the world can be quite costly.” Edinburgh smiled tightly. “Therefore, if you pay a fine of say, one hundred thousand pounds, we would feel satisfied leaving you alive.”

Ian gasped and sputtered. “
One
hundred
thousand
pounds?”

“Shut it!” Vincent snapped, not giving a damn that he was speaking to the Lord of London. He met the Elder's gaze. “I agree to the fine.” He'd give up his castle and his land if the Elder asked. Though at this sum, he'd have to mortgage them anyway.

“I'll require a down payment of ten thousand, as collateral for your honor.”

“Of course.” Vincent reached inside his greatcoat for his bank drafts.
I'll bet the other ninety thousand that this will go straight into your pocket.

The ancient vampire grinned and withdrew a document from his satchel. He dipped the quill and handed it to Vincent. “If you sign here, I can be on my way. And be certain to have the funds deposited at our bank by the end of the month, or else we will have to kill you.”

Once the contract was signed, the Elder took another sip of brandy and rose to depart.

“My lord?” Lydia approached the Lord of Edinburgh. “I have one more question.”

The ancient paused at the door. “Yes, youngling?”

“Am I a vampire of London or Cornwall?”

He gave her an impatient glare. “As you were Changed in the Lord of London's territory, he could legally lay claim to you, though that is his choice.” He strode out the door before she could say more.

“I release you to the Lord of Cornwall,” Ian told her. “I have enough mischievous younglings in my territory.”

Lydia released her breath in an audible sigh. Angelica leaped up from her seat and spun in a joyful circle. The men remained frozen in disbelief at the miraculous reprieve.

“You're not going to be killed, thank God!” Lydia cried.

When he was at last able to breathe again, Vincent uttered a dry laugh. “I am alive because of a need for government funding. Good Lord.” He shook his head. “I have the utmost sympathy for those who do not have that option.”

“As do I,” Rafe added quietly.

“One hundred thousand pounds?” Ian repeated dazedly. “Do you have that much?”

“Most of it. However, I will still have to mortgage my castle and ask for loans.” Vincent sighed and met Lydia's gaze. “I'll be a pauper for quite some time, I'm afraid.”

“I don't care!” she said firmly. “You will be alive.”

Warmth suffused his heart at her declaration.

Ian stroked his chin. “I can give you a loan. I won't even charge interest.”

Vincent held out his hand. “Ian, Angelica, Rafael, you have my eternal gratitude for all you've done for me and Lydia. I am in your debt.”

Angelica beamed and gave him a firm handshake. “I am happy that your harrowing experience has a happy conclusion. It has definitely provided inspiration for my writing.”

The duchess then gave Lydia a hug. “You were so very brave. I am happy to have you as a friend.”

Ian shook Vincent's hand. “You have always been among my strongest allies. It would have been devastating to lose you.”

The duke then bowed to Lydia. “My wife is right. You are the most courageous youngling that I have ever beheld. A most fitting bride for the Lord of Cornwall.”

Rafe scowled before shaking Vincent's hand. “It was nothing.”

Lydia chuckled at his gruffness. The Spaniard met her gaze, and his narrow lips curved in a slight but genuine smile as he shook her hand.

“Well”—Angelica set aside her brandy glass—“that was quite exciting. But now I'd like to go home and finish Vincent's surprise for tomorrow evening.” She curled her fingers around Ian's arm. “Shall we be off?”

Lydia shook her head. “I need to feed, and I would like for Vincent to walk me home, if it's all right.”

“You're not supposed to be alone with him without a chaperone,” Rafe reminded her, though there was a teasing glint in his amber eyes.

Angelica put her hands on her hips and glared at the Spaniard. “Oh, Rafe, they deserve to be alone after all they've been through.” She turned to Lydia. “Though do try to be home soon, or Miss Hobson will be livid.”

Although he longed to take Lydia upstairs into his bedchamber, Vincent reluctantly took her hand and led her outside to hunt. They found their prey and fed quickly, getting it done so they could then savor their time together.

Vincent watched Lydia as she walked beside him, amazed at how well she had taken to her new existence. She embraced the night, at harmony with the shadows, and she hunted at his side as if she'd always been there with him.
She
belongs
with
me
, his heart pulsed with conviction.

“Tell me of this surprise you have planned.”