Most of the audience seemed to accept his explanation, but Angelica frowned. He didn’t once mention that he loved her, or even that he liked her. She looked back at the sea of vampires. Perhaps he did not wish to sound weak in front of these powerful beings.
Thomas came forward again. “But why do you not—”
Ian held up a hand. “I have explained enough. I must get my bride home so that I may feed. But first, I ask that you all swear to protect this woman from harm when I am absent.”
Angelica’s heart warmed that Ian cared about her fate if something were to happen to him. She expected many of them to refuse, but to her surprise, all nodded and went down on their knees before her and placed their hands over their hearts.
Their voices rang out in a dark melody. “Angelica Ashton, Duchess of Burnrath and bride of our master, we swear to you and our lord that in his absence, we will endeavor to watch over you and keep you from harm all the nights of your life.”
The words were touching, though surely they would never need to fulfill their vows. Her husband was so strong and powerful that she was confident no one could defeat him. She curtsied and thanked them as Ian once more addressed his vampires.
“I have received responses to my letters from nearly all of the neighboring lords.” Ian’s expression was full of sad resignation. “None have seen or heard any sign of Blanche’s whereabouts. Though I ask you all to keep up your vigilance, I am afraid that such may be a fruitless endeavor. It is becoming more likely every night that she is dead.”
As the vampires bowed their heads in solemn sorrow, Angelica’s eyes closed in sadness for their loss of a comrade. How did Blanche die? Surely a vampire could not be easy to kill. She looked up at her husband, awash with sympathy for his burden, even as she was filled with admiration for his brilliant and compassionate leadership.
Ian covered her eyes with the blindfold once more and led her back up the stairs and out into the night.
When the cloth was removed from her eyes, the first thing she saw was the scowling Spaniard. A startled squeak escaped her and the vampire actually flinched. A glimmer of pain flashed in his amber eyes before his ruthless sneer returned.
“I apologize if my ugliness offends your tender sensibilities, Your Grace,” he growled bitterly.
“It wasn’t that, Mister…” She shrugged helplessly as the vampire stood stoically, refusing to give his name. Ian placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shook off his gesture, determined to make peace with this hostile man. “I was merely startled to see someone else when my blindfold was removed. To be honest, I think you are very handsome, in a rare, unique sort of manner.”
Her cheeks burned as he continued to stare at her. Had she offended him yet again?
Finally, he responded, his voice rough and gravelly. “I am Rafael Villar, ever at your service, Your Grace.”
He bowed low and she presented her hand as if he were any other titled gentleman of her acquaintance. Again, he blinked at her in surprise and looked at Ian as if for permission. At Ian’s nod, he tentatively raised her hand and brushed the lightest of kisses across her knuckles as if afraid his touch would soil her.
Quickly, he stepped back, his piercing amber gaze intent on Ian. “I still do not like this, Your Grace.” With that, he disappeared into the shadows.
“Well, he certainly is a charming sort,” Angelica said with a light laugh. “One could almost suppose he does not like me.”
Ian smiled. “Rafe doesn’t like anybody. And yet, I think you’ve charmed him.” He took her in his arms and her stomach pitched once more as the world fell below them.
The fog was so thick over the city that Angelica had no idea how Ian could see where he was flying. She decided to combat her anxiety with questions. “Why were all the female vampires dressed as men?”
“They dress in trousers so they can move in relative safety through the city while they hunt.” Ian’s voice was muffled by the wind. “Not only that, but prostitutes approach men more often, so it is an easy meal.”
“Prostitutes?” she shrieked in outrage and nearly let go. “You feed on prostitutes?”
Ian adjusted his hold on her. “Most of the time. I get a meal, and after I pay them, they do as well.”
Her eyes narrowed against the chilly air as an uncomfortable pang struck her heart. “You don’t do anything else with them, do you?”
“Never the poor street drabs, and as for the cleaner, more expensive ones, not since I met you.” He paused before adding, “This is hardly a decent subject to discuss with a wife.”
Angelica wanted to argue but decided she could do better with sweetness. She held him closer, inhaling his scent, and whispered against his neck, “You do not have to go elsewhere to feed, Your Grace. I do not think I can countenance the very idea of your lips on another woman’s neck.”