He groaned as he saw it. “If you really want me to feel better, lass, you’ll agree to go to London. For I’m sending you today, whether you want it or not. I want to know you’re safe.”
Althea took his teacup and replaced it with the bowl of steaming broth. What was she to do?
Leave the twins? Leave the mission that would be the start of her career as a vampire hunter?
Or stay and risk losing Father? Worry over her could overwhelm his weakening heart.
“I’d rather stay and watch over you.”
“I’ve lived a long life, Althea. And I’m stronger than you might think. But the Demon Twins want you and the best way I know to protect you is to send you away.” He took a shaky spoonful of soup. “God in heaven, I’d rather have sausages.”
“Eat all your broth, Father.”
He groaned again.
“Father, I understand why you are so determined to stop Zayan, but I can’t let you pursue this. You are much too weak. Once the physician—”
“I’ve no intention of seeing a physician. And as for Zayan, I won’t be stopping him. I can’t.
Only the twins can do that. And now, it may come down merely to their thirst for revenge.”
“Do you mean you won’t hunt him?”
“Turn my back on him and let him continue to kill? No, lass, I can’t do that. I have to try to find the twins. Try to at least protect people from Zayan.”
“More broth,” she encouraged. Her heart hurt, aching with pride for her father. He was willing to pursue the impossible, even if he saved only one person.
Father took another spoonful and grimaced. “In the crypt, I found some journals. Buried there. Preserved there. Protected. That told of Lord Devars’ pursuit of Zayan. Did you see the sarcophagus in the crypt? The one that held the child?”
Heart in her throat, she nodded.
“Zayan turned the child of that hunter. Out of spite. And left the father with no choice but to put a stake through the heart of his own young son, just to allow the boy to find peace. That is what I am afraid of, lass, that Zayan will try to turn you to stop me.”
Zayan had the chance last night, she realized, but hadn’t turned her because he had used her as bait for Bastien. But next time…
She could see Father was crippled with worry, and pain was etched upon his face. A confrontation with Zayan, in his weakened state, would no doubt lead to his death. To save her, he would be more than willing to risk his own life.
She didn’t have a choice.
“If I go to London, will you come with me? Would you leave this pursuit to the Demon Twins? Please Father, I’m begging you. I will go to London, if you agree to give up your battle.”
Father scooped up more of the beef broth. “And will you look for a husband?”
“A husband!”
But to protest might lead to the truth. She couldn’t even imagine her father’s shock, anger, and horror if she admitted she’d given her virginity to two vampires.
Well, one, technically, but she truly felt she’d lost her innocence with them both and—
It didn’t matter about the technicalities. It would kill him for sure.
Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 141
Guiltily, Althea met her father’s eyes. He was waiting, stirring his broth, and the look of hope in his eyes made her heart lurch.
She would have to lie and pretend she would search for a husband, just as he wanted. Lie for now, worry about the truth later.
Her heart ached as she nodded her acquiescence to Father.
She would be leaving Yannick and Bastien, and that hurt as much as the fear of losing her father.
“Coo, London! However can I thank ye, Miss Yates?”
Eyes agog, Sarah leaned forward and stared out the window of the carriage, as though a mere three hours of travel had already brought them to London.
Althea settled back against the swaying seat. The carriage, as Father had directed, was making all possible haste, though the road was rutted from spring rains and the team could not be driven too hard.
For three hours, Sarah had been full of bright chatter and excitement. Althea had answered with grunts and murmurs and had twice pleaded the need to nap, though she couldn’t sleep.
Lunch, at least, had given her another reason to be quiet. While Sarah had tackled her kidney pie with delight, Althea had noticed every man’s eyes alight on Sarah, with interest and hot desire.
Her reasons in choosing Sarah as a travelling companion hadn’t been completely altruistic.
Though she had the coachman and several of Father’s men as outriders, Father had insisted she have another companion. A chaperon. She’d decided on Sarah. And Sarah had been pleased to leave behind Maidensby and go to London to act as lady’s maid, which kept her away from Yannick and Bastien.
“Will we meet vampires in London, do ye think, Miss? Are ye to have me ’elp you ’unt the beggars?”
With a wry smile, Althea shook her head. “I’ve promised my father I will hunt husbands, not vampires.” A dreary thought, since she certainly couldn't marry now. She would be dragged to balls and routs and musicales—things she’d only heard about—by Father’s matchmaker, Lady Peters. The thought of having to pretend to be a marriage-obsessed innocent for weeks on end filled her with despair.
But Sarah beamed. “How glorious! Oo, I’d love to go to a ball and meet ’andsome gentlemen.”
“And I would love to send you in my place,” Althea muttered.
“Beg pardon, Miss?” Sarah appeared to be waving out of the carriage window. She turned around, cheeks flushed pink. “The most ’andsome man on a great black gelding just passed at a good gallop, but ’e waved at me.”
Althea sighed. Sarah unleashed on London would certainly keep her distracted. She pressed her hand to her temple, which throbbed. She’d never suffered a headache before in her life.
Sarah sat on the seat across from Althea, facing opposite to the direction of travel, as a servant was wont to do. She tugged off her shawl and with a dreamy smile, she snuggled into the corner of the seat. Her eyes closed, golden lashes brushing her cheeks. She gave a soft little Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 142
giggle.
Althea reached for a book. Watching Sarah made her strangely tense. The girl’s little wiggles and jiggles made her perspire into her gown and pelisse. And Bastien’s naughty story kept tantalizing her. The one about young women touching each other’s breasts and quims.
Sarah’s eyes opened and the most wicked smile curved her plump, pink lips. “I were thinking about me vampire, Miss.”
He’s not your vampire!
Her head throbbed more and she felt ready to snap, like a weakened bow strung too tightly. A madness took control of her and she crooked her finger at Sarah, who was squirming on the soft seat. The girl was a saucy piece and she could see why Bastien wanted to have a suckle at the smooth, lovely neck.
As Sarah settled beside her, fluffing gray skirts, a mad compulsion directed Althea’s fingers to cup the girl’s pointed chin. To tip her face. Those moist lips tempted and she licked her own.
She could almost hear Bastien’s deep, seductive voice urging her onward.
She gave a small peck to Sarah’s lips. The girl squealed, and she expected Sarah to leap back. To scream for help. To slap her.
Instead Sarah giggled and kissed her back. Althea tasted the wine from lunch on the pretty pink mouth. She felt wild, hot with a daring desire. She felt like Bastien, a master of seduction cleverly charming an innocent girl.
“Cor, Miss,” Sarah gasped as she kissed the girl’s delicious neck, “Do ye drink blood, too?”
“No, no,” she murmured, terribly shocked at her behavior but too fiery hot to stop.
Sarah’s skin, soft as warmed satin, tasted of simple soap and tantalizing perspiration. Althea licked Sarah’s wounds, now only light dimples in her smooth flesh. This was wrong. Erotic, but oh so wrong! Only in Bastien’s dark, wicked world did women do things like this.
But Althea couldn’t seem to stop.
Before she could think, she cupped her hand against Sarah’s bodice and touched the full breasts that every man they’d encountered had glanced at with admiration and lust. Sarah moaned and wriggled and a large, hard nipple poked into Althea’s palm through the taut gown.
No wonder men delighted in women’s breasts! No wonder Bastien and Yannick enjoyed suckling hers. All she yearned for was to explore that thick nipple with her mouth.
Some force seemed to drive her and she hurriedly undid the buttons at the front of the gown.
Once it loosened, she tugged it down, feeling very much like Yannick or Bastien. But she wasn’t being quite as seductive, though she couldn’t help but admire Sarah’s bared breasts.
“Beautiful,” she whispered with awe.
Sarah gave a demure smile, but Althea read the confidence there. Sarah was accustomed to receiving compliments about her bosom. They were round and plump, pale white touched with a blush of peach and faint blue veins. Her heart beat like a drum as she bent and kissed the lush, abundant flesh, her lips sinking into the softness. Feminine skin had a more delicate taste.
Somehow, she didn’t think Bastien or Yannick would disapprove of her behavior.
“Might I ’ave a grope of yours, Miss?” Sarah whispered. “Would ye like that?”
“Oh yes, I would, Sarah,” she breathed. Sarah’s nimble fingers pushed hers from her pelisse and she licked and laved Sarah’s nipples as her clothes were pulled open. The pliant nipple swelled against her tongue. She had no idea of skilled technique but she tried to mimic what the twins had done. Pure pleasure took over and she suckled merely for the joy of it.
Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 143
“Cor Miss, let me kiss you,” Sarah whispered. “Would ye touch me under me skirt? I’ve an itch there now.”
Sarah fell back against the seat. Althea dragged up the girl’s skirts, trembling at the sight of smooth, ivory legs clad in sturdy stockings and plain garters. She was nervous but so excited she thought she might explode into a thousand pieces. Crisp curls teased her fingertips.
“Althea, you mustn’t,” she whispered to herself. But she could picture Bastien, silver eyes burning with lust as he watched them. She could imagine Yannick, a little shocked but growing excited regardless. She parted Sarah’s nether lips and a river of warmth spilled onto her fingers.
Goodness!
This was madness. How could she have Sarah as a lady’s maid after this? What if Sarah talked of it! What was she thinking? But she wanted more. She wanted to touch that silky heat.
Wanted to watch Sarah squirm in pleasure.
Find a husband in London! She almost laughed. She was debauched. She truly did belong in Bastien’s wicked world.
She touched Sarah’s sensitive nub, amazed, strangely, to find it felt like her own. Sarah squealed.
Althea could hardly breathe. Sarah arched up to her teasing fingers in the most delightful, sensuous way. Althea knew she had none of the skill of the twins, but Sarah shut her eyes, moaned with pleasure, and ground hard against her fingers. The girl fractured in an instant.
“Ooh, Miss!” she cried as she clutched her ample breasts and rocked with her orgasm.
Stunned, enthralled, Althea burst too. She hadn’t expected it…hadn’t thought just by touching…watching—
Her anguished cries joined Sarah’s to fill the small carriage. They both moaned desperately, until their climaxes slowly faded away, then sated, soaked with dewy sweat, Althea slumped beside Sarah. Sarah giggled and did up her gown as though she were suddenly shy. Althea felt like the experienced one, the tutor in sin, but still she couldn’t think of a word to say. What did one say afterward?
Somewhat repaired, Sarah snuggled against her with a coy giggle. And soon the rhythmic breathing and gentle snores announced the girl was sleeping.
Althea sighed in relief as she struggled the fix her own dress. What a mess she’d made of things. And all for a bit of pleasure.
At least the windows were open—to allow in the spring air and blow out the scandalous smells of their pleasure.
And out the window she spied the carriage in the ditch and a woman at the roadside trying to flag down a passing carriage.
She’d just shared a shocking interlude with her maid. The last thing she should do was invite a traveler, a stranger, inside. But she saw the woman’s face as they passed. Well-dressed in silk pelisse and elaborate bonnet, the woman seemed so lost, so imploring, so upset, that Althea’s heart went out to the stranger. She doubted Sarah would speak of what they’d done, certainly not in front of a stranger.
The carriage slowed, showing the concern of the coachman. She rapped the ceiling, signaling the man to stop.
Blood Red by Sharon Page ©2006 Advance Reader Copy www.SharonPage.com 144
“A sound sleeper, is she not?” Crimson lips curved into a smile as the stranded traveler studied Sarah, who looked delectable in slumber.
Althea flushed with embarrassment. True, it surprised her that Sarah had dozed through the stop, the subsequent introductions and discussions, but she didn’t wish to talk about why the pretty blonde was so exhausted.
The woman had introduced herself as Madame Roi when she accepted Althea’s offer of a ride on to the next village where a bed could be found. Madame spoke with an accent that was decidedly not French. She had the look of a gypsy—thick, raven-black hair pinned beneath an elaborate bonnet adorned with peacock feathers, golden-bronze skin, a lush, vivid red mouth.
Her manner was much older than her appearance, though the long fringe of feathers shielded her eyes.
Madame brushed back the feathers. Heavy-lidded almond-shaped eyes assessed Althea.
The black lashes appeared several inches long.
At first, Althea had presumed Madame Roi to be an actress. A choker of small sapphires ringed her neck, sapphires dripped from her earlobes, and her fanciful clothes suggested a besotted gentleman willing to spend a fortune on her. Her form-fitting pelisse of turquoise silk was trimmed in sable at the neck and cuffs. The skirt of the pelisse fell open to reveal a gown with sheer ivory skirts.