Her gaze strayed back to the scarred man. His scowl had deepened. “Who is that other man?” She was careful to incline her head only slightly.
Jane peered over the lacy edge of her fan. “I am not completely certain, but I believe he may be the infamous pugilist who Burnrath sponsors. He is only known as ‘the Spaniard.’ The description definitely fits him, anyway.” The duchess shook her head. “I do not understand why Burnrath invited him. He cannot dance with only one arm.”
“Yet he can box?” Angelica asked archly.
The Duke of Wentworth interrupted the fascinating conversation and winked at his wife. “You have monopolized the bride long enough, my lady. A multitude of gentlemen are waiting to dance with this beautiful creature.”
With that, Angelica was pulled onto the dance floor. She danced with so many men she couldn’t keep count, and for the first time in her life, she enjoyed herself at a ball. No longer were men dancing with her because they had designs on her dowry. Now dancing was merely a pleasant entertainment. A few asked her about the rumors of Ian being a vampire, but she laughed them off as if the concept was the most ludicrous thing she had ever heard. Quickly, she glanced at Lord Deveril. He gave her a brief half smile and inclined his head as if he approved of how she had handled the situation.
Her Winthrop cousins giggled and danced as well, resplendent in their new formal gowns. Half of the young bucks in attendance were already obviously smitten with the gypsy-like girls. Angelica took as much time as she could to get reacquainted with them before they were all swept away for yet another dance. As the evening progressed, the gentlemen became foxed and tried to steal kisses from her. Angelica laughed as she ducked and bobbed to avoid their advances, the merriment increased by her new husband’s dark scowls.
“Come, let us retire,” Ian said, removing the champagne glass from her hand.
Angelica blinked. “But why? It is only midnight and the guests show no inclination of leaving.”
Ian smiled. “This is our wedding night. We are expected to go up to our bedchamber.”
Understanding lit her eyes. “Oh, I see.” Likely, his reputation would be harmed if people knew he could not have children. “What will we do up there?”
He frowned. “We will have our wedding night, of course.”
She gazed up at him in confusion. After looking around to make sure no one was listening, she rose up on her toes and whispered, “But I thought that you were unable give me children.”
He appeared to be torn between frustration and laughter. “I may not be able to impregnate you,” he whispered against her neck, sending shivers down her entire body. “But I assure you, my duchess, I am perfectly capable of the act.”
Shivering in trepidation, she changed the subject. “Is Lord Deveril also a vampire?”
Ian nodded impatiently. “Yes, he is the Lord of Cornwall.”
“And the Spaniard with the scars?” she prodded.
“He is my second in command, and he will remain on guard for the remainder of the ball.” Before Angelica could question him further, Ian swept her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the accompaniment of coarse laughter and ribald comments she could only half understand.
Seventeen
The bedchamber was huge and daunting with shadows in every corner that seemed to encroach on the large four-poster bed. Liza was waiting next to it, just finishing arranging rose petals on the coverlet. The whole scenario looked fitting for a ritual sacrifice. Angelica forgot all about her curiosity about the other vampires as the impending consummation of her marriage loomed over her in stark clarity.
“I am ready to help prepare you for bed, Your Grace.” Her maid blushed and led Angelica through an adjoining door.
“I hope he will be gentle with you, truly I do.” Liza divested Angelica of her wedding gown and helped her into a filmy white scrap of satin. “But at least you will be comforted by the fact that he will give you such beautiful children!”
Angelica shivered. No, I will not. What he is going to do to me will give me no comfort at all.
Liza departed, and with quaking knees, Angelica crossed the length of the bedchamber to join her vampire husband. His back was to her as he faced the fireplace. The orange flickering light cast sinister shadows on the wall.
“Here I am, Your Grace.” She lifted her chin and prayed he did not hear the fear in her voice.
Ian whipped around, his eyes glowing hungrily at the sight of her in the nearly transparent nightgown. “Dear God,” he breathed.
Despite her trepidation, Angelica couldn’t suppress a light laugh. “I didn’t think vampires would speak much about God.” At his slight smile, with no dimming at his intense stare, she sobered.
“You look like the seraphim you were named for, Angel.” His voice was husky. “Come here.”
She couldn’t stop herself from stepping backward, farther away from him. “What are you going to do to me?” How badly would it hurt?