Bite Me, Your Grace

Twenty


Angelica spent the next two weeks in frantic preparation for her first ball. Her days were spent receiving callers, shopping, and planning the party. Her mother came every day to help with the invitations and seating arrangements, and the two gradually grew closer.

Her nights were spent in Ian’s passionate embraces as he made love to her and afterward held her in his arms as they talked quietly together, replete in their passion. She had the windows boarded up on the entire upper story so that Ian could sleep with her. He was reluctant at first, but once she convinced him that not a sliver of sunlight would touch that level of the house and had the door armed with a massive lock so no one could disturb his rest, he consented to abandon his secret lair below the house.

Truly, it was bliss waking up warm and satiated beside him every morning, rather than in a cold, empty bed. People would surely talk about the covered windows, but she was certain that the “window tax” was still in effect… not that anyone would believe that Ian was short of funds. But in this case, the gossips could hang. Angelica wanted to spend every moment she could in her husband’s arms.

Hopefully, her party would occupy most of society’s attention and fodder for gossip. At least, that was Angelica’s plan. She intended to draw their attention and possible censure from Ian to herself. Themed parties were all the rage, but she couldn’t settle on just one, so she decided to use a few. The dishes would be Indian, the decor would be French, and the music would be performed by gypsies. And since Ian claimed that he liked her music, she decided to play a few pieces herself.

Before she knew it, Liza was marching her to her bedchamber to dress for the ball.

Angelica grinned mischievously as she caressed the folds of her velvet ball gown, which was a purple so dark that it looked black where the light didn’t strike the fabric. She’d arranged for the ballroom to be decorated in black, silver, and royal purple.

Her ball would be the spectacle of the season.

***

The evening of the ball was warm and tranquil with the scent of lilacs coming in from the open windows. Angelica wished the tranquility would seep into her. When the guests began to pour in as Burke announced them, her stomach churned. Heading up the receiving line was frightening at first, but with her mother standing nearby whispering encouragement when she faltered, Angelica felt her courage increase.

Within the hour she felt like a seasoned hostess, curtsying and exchanging polite greetings and hiding her boredom with the redundancy of the ritual. As she smiled blandly at the scrutinizing looks aimed at her, she developed greater appreciation for her fellow hostesses and chatelaines of London households. All the same, she was relieved when her husband joined her.

“How is my Angel this evening?” Ian whispered before placing a proprietary arm around her waist.

Warmth curled in her body as she turned in his grasp to look upon his beloved visage. “Thus far, I’ve been at the brink of expiring from the tedium. But now that you are here, the festivities shall be much more enjoyable.”

She grinned up at his perplexed countenance before a maid handed her a glass to tap for silence, a gesture that was hardly necessary since nearly all were staring at them and trying to overhear their conversation for future on-dits to fuel their gossip circles.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my very first ball,” Angelica addressed her guests, trying to keep her voice steady. “I hope you all have a wonderful time, and the duke and I look forward to more of such occasions. Let the dancing begin.”

As Ian took her hand for the dance, his eyes strayed toward the platform upon which the gypsy musicians plied their trade. “I can always depend on you to make the most unique selections, my dear.” He did his best to adjust to the new rhythms and melodies of the song, and Angelica was whirled about far more intoxicatingly than she would have been during an average English cotillion. “The percussion is pleasing to dance to, Angel. It is a wonder that they do not accompany as often as one would think.”

Suddenly, a scream rent the air, coming from the east end of the ballroom floor. The music stopped and pandemonium momentarily broke out. As the crowd of dancers parted, Angelica saw a black form affixed to Miss Claire Belmont’s skirts.

Claire was shrieking and batting ineffectually at Loki, who had sought new prey in the form of the ribbon tied at her waist.

Angelica suppressed most of her giggles as she made her way to Claire and carefully extracted the cat from her ensemble, passing him off to a helpful footman.

“My gown is ruined!” Claire cried, tears welling up in her eyes.

The young Baron Osgoode approached and bowed. “I assure you, Miss Belmont, you are breathtaking. Though if you would like some fresh air, I would be happy to escort you to the balcony.”

Claire blushed becomingly, and her eyes once more resembled those of a lioness on the hunt as she seized his proffered arm. “That would be lovely, Lord Osgoode.”

Angelica nodded her thanks to her former suitor, and Osgoode’s face flushed scarlet as he bowed over her hand. “Y-your Grace,” he stammered.

“I see the lad hasn’t forgotten his unseemly behavior toward you,” Ian murmured as the music and dancing resumed.

Angelica was claimed for the next dance by the Earl of Deveril—and as she now knew, the Lord of Cornwall—one of the few English lord vampires who’d accepted Ian’s invitation to attend the wedding.

“I am happy you decided to quit being a wallflower, my lord.” She smiled up into his glittering, stormy eyes. “Are you truly Lord of all of Cornwall?”

His soft laughter rippled amidst the solemn music. “Ian was right about you, Your Grace. You are indeed fearless. There are not many of us in that region, so for now, I am in charge of the lot. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Vincent Tremayne.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Vincent. And I am honored that you traveled so far to attend my wedding, as well as my first ball.” Angelica bit back another question she longed to ask: How many other vampires are hidden in the nobility? And how many other lord vampires are here?

“A mere handful are in the nobility, and only four lords were able to come.” He answered her thought as if she’d spoken aloud. “But to answer your first question, when I heard my good friend Ian had wed a mortal, I was curious to see her for myself,” he said with a soft smile. “And it was due time I ventured out of my castle. I’m certain you’ve heard I am a known recluse.”

Angelica gasped. “You can read my mind?”

Vincent smiled. “Only if you are thinking very loud.” He glanced over her shoulder and frowned.

Angelica glanced over her shoulder to see Rafael Villar holding up his usual pillar and glaring at Vincent once more. She patted Deveril’s sleeve sympathetically. “Don’t worry overmuch, my lord. He doesn’t like me, either.”

Deveril shook his head. “I believe the unusual circumstances of your marriage to Ian vex him. He does not know how to deal with such a situation, and so it makes him nervous. As for his sharp eyes on me, the man is only doing his job. As another Lord Vampire in Ian’s territory, I am seen as a potential threat.” He chuckled lightly. “Truly, the scoundrel can relax. I have no designs on the duke’s territory or his bride, lovely though she may be.”

Before she could reply, Ian claimed her for a contra dance and Loki scurried up Deveril’s leg. Apparently the kitten had escaped the footman. Angelica nearly erupted into paroxysms of laughter as she hid her face in her husband’s chest.

“Loki seems to have taken a liking to the Lord Vampire of Cornwall,” she said. “Or at least his legs.”

Ian’s silver eyes smiled down into hers, unaffected by her mention of the other vampire. “I can think of finer legs.”

She could swear the ballroom grew considerably warmer and decided a change of subject would be in order. “Do you like the musicians, my lord?”

Ian nodded. “Aside from the fact that their compositions are indeed difficult for dancing, I find them to be exotic enough for the theme of your party.”

Angelica hid a smile at his diplomatic expression of his disapproval. “Aren’t they delightful?”

He frowned in their direction. “‘Delightful’ would not be my chosen word. Powerful and highly accomplished would be more along my line of thinking.”

She couldn’t suppress a laugh. “And you have not heard the leader sing yet.”

“One of them sings?” His incredulous look nearly doubled her hilarity. “Then perhaps we should cut the dancing short and ask them to perform after supper, as if we were hosting an opera.”

Angelica turned her head toward the dancers, who were struggling to find rhythm amidst the alien melodies. “Your plan has merit, Your Grace. I am afraid if we continue much longer, there shall be many bruised shins and broken toes. But now,” she said with an impish grin. “I am due for my performance.”

When Angelica mounted the platform and sat before the pianoforte, startled gasps permeated the room before they gave way to wild cheers as her fingers struck the keys. She grinned broadly and gave herself up to the music, feeling deliciously wild and free. Whispers reverberated through the audience as she sang. There were many mutters of disapproval as she left the piano to seat her guests for dinner, but a few beamed at her in admiration and complimented her on her unique entertainment. She met Ian’s eyes and basked in his smile. Only his approval mattered.

“I see that you’ve once again set society on its ear,” he said with a grin as the servants entered with covered dishes. “Do you think it is wise for you to keep stirring them up with your peccadilloes?”

Angelica raised a brow. “Surely you would prefer that they talk about me, rather than having you continue to be the subject of those gossipmongers.”

He raised her knuckles to his lips. “I am fortunate to have such a champion.”

She smiled up at him. “That is why you married me, after all.”

The Indian dishes received mixed responses from the guests, even though she had taken pains to include foods that were not too spicy for those with tamer palates. Most comments from the people seated near her were compliments and inquiries of how she came up with the ideas for the ball and where she found the musicians. The majority of the guests appeared to be enjoying the evening, though she did spy a few sour countenances.

The Duchess of Wentworth took her aside to tell her good-bye. “Your ball was quite a crush, Your Grace, though a few seemed scandalized. Lord and Lady Lindsay now think you are ‘unpatriotic’ so you likely won’t be receiving invitations from them. And the dowager Countess of Morley has declared you to be ‘too fast.’” Her nose turned up in disapproval. “They are stuffy old coots, anyhow.”

“I only hope that those silly vampire rumors have abated.” Angelica watched her companion carefully.

Jane chuckled. “Oh, I wouldn’t be worrying about that. Spirits are the new rage now.”

“Spirits?” Angelica’s breath caught in fascination. Now here was good fodder for her writing!

Her Grace leaned forward with a conspirator’s whisper. “Lady Pemberly will be hosting something called a ‘séance’ next week. She wants to communicate with the spirit of her first husband. I could probably wrangle an invitation for you, if you are interested.”

Angelica’s imagination was instantly stimulated. “I would like that.” Vampires and spirits! This ball was indeed a success!

She bid her friend good-bye and was occupied for the next hour in assisting her guests with their leave-taking.

While searching the house for intoxicated stragglers, she heard hushed voices in the library. She peeked in the doorway and saw Ian and the Spaniard, who she now knew to be his second in command. The two were seated before the fireplace, sharing a bottle of port.

“I still do not approve of this marriage, Ian,” Rafael said as he swirled his glass of wine. “Though she is very beautiful and seems to adore you.”

Her cheeks grew pink at the unexpected compliment. So he didn’t hate her after all! Angelica held back from entering, eager to hear what Ian would say about her.

“Have you yet come up with a plan as to what to do with her in the future?” Rafael’s tone was strangely ominous.

Angelica’s heart pounded and she leaned in closer to the doorway. Surely now Ian would announce his intention to Change her.

Her husband’s voice was gruff. “I will live with her as man and wife for a few more years, but before it is noticed that I do not age, I will have to leave her. She will tell everyone I died on a trip, and I’ll return perhaps fifty years later as my own heir, as usual. I will leave her well off, naturally…”

Angelica couldn’t bear to hear more. Hot and cold tremors assaulted her body, and a giant fist seemed to clamp on her heart. She fled up to her chamber, choking on the bitter tears that wrenched their way out of her rattled form.

“…as usual,” Ian had said. Her heart clenched with dawning horror. How many other women had he done this to? How many like her had he used and deceived?

***

“I still maintain that acquiring a mortal bride has created a dreadful inconvenience.” Rafe scowled as he lit his cigar. “Have you done such a thing before?”

Ian shook his head. “No, I’ve never married. And I agree that it complicates matters, but I shall have to make the best of it.”

“Then why do you not Change her?” Rafe protested. “You of all vampires should be aware of the danger in leaving a mortal with knowledge of our secrets. And I have seen the way you look at her, mi amigo. Your passion for her is obvious to anyone with eyes in his skull.”

Ian sighed. “I vowed never to condemn anyone to this life, especially without a choice, as happened to me. No matter how politely we behave, we are still fallen demons, as the legends say. I could never do that to her.”

Rafe’s gaze softened. “Just because you were Changed without a choice does not mean it would be so bad for your duchess. Perhaps she wants to spend eternity at your side.”

Ian laughed as he pictured an eternity with the vexing, mischievous woman, then he sobered. “I do not think so. She fought with all her tiny being against marriage to me. She nearly ran away to avoid being shackled to my side.”

“I would not be so certain of this,” Rafe said softly. “Feelings change, after all.”

As Ian followed Rafe down to the cellar and through the secret door to the chamber in which they would hide from the daylight, he mulled over his friend’s words. Could Angelica possibly love him? Would she want to spend untold centuries at his side? He hardly allowed to dream.

Perhaps he should redouble his courtship efforts. Angelica had never said she loved him, but sometimes there was such warmth in her eyes that he dared to hope. Perhaps in time, she would want to share eternity with him. Well, time was something he certainly had.