His Ruthless Bite | Historical Paranormal Romance: Vampires (Scandals With Bite Book 4) (13 page)

Vincent snorted. “Villar’s vampires outnumber yours three to one. London would slaughter you.”

Gavin’s grin broadened. “True, but after having a battle break out in his own lands, how would the Elders perceive another battle in so short a time?”

Vincent’s eyes widened in horrified comprehension. “You really are Machiavellian.”

“At last, an accusation I can admit to.” Gavin forced a laugh at the other vampire’s righteous disapproval, though irritation gnawed at him that Vincent would think he’d orchestrated this plan to hurt Lenore. Not when his plan to wed her was the exact opposite.

The Lord of Cornwall turned his head and gave him a pointed look. “And which accusation do you deny?”

“That I have less than honorable intentions towards Miss Graves.” He bit back a sigh. He was growing weary of having to clarify that. “She asked that the marriage be in name only and I will abide by her request.” Unbidden, his lip curled back to reveal his fangs. “All of London and half of Cornwall know about what Clayton’s rogues did to her during her captivity. Is it so hard to believe that I wish to give her a fresh start, without the pall of shame and scrutiny hanging over her head?”

Vincent sighed. “Yes, because you never do anything without some benefit to yourself.”

Gavin spread his arms in the universal gesture of innocence. “Why, I shall have a wife to fend off the matchmaking mothers for the next fifty years. You should know all about how bothersome that can be from your time in London two years ago.”

Vincent whipped around and gave him wide stare. “How did you hear about that?”

Gavin couldn’t hold back a bark of laughter. “Come now, the notoriously reclusive Lord of Cornwall taking on a mortal ward and bringing her out for a London Season? Word about that spread across the entire United Kingdom, and probably to the Continent.” Gavin stroked his chin and smirked. “It is amusing that you are accusing me of lechery when you couldn’t keep your hands or your fangs to yourself.”

“Careful, Rochester,” Vincent growled, baring his own fangs.

Gavin dismissed the threat with an indolent wave. “But never mind that. I see that you and the new Lady Deveril are the happiest of couples and I am genuinely glad for you. Back to my point, As Lenore has proven her capacity for loyalty, she is a suitable candidate for the role as my baroness. I have no need for romance, only a wife.”

To Gavin’s vexation, the Lord of Cornwall continued to give him a skeptical look. Then Vincent sighed. “I suppose I have no choice but to take your word. Not that there is much I could do if you were lying.”

“All this sudden care for a youngling that was invisible until four months ago,” Gavin drawled, sick of the hypocrisy. “How odd our kind has become of late.”

“And all of this sudden chivalry from you,” Vincent countered. “Well, shall we look in on the Sidwell sisters and put in your order?” He turned on his heel and started walking off in ground devouring strides. “It is fortunate you came in before the Season. They would have been too burdened with orders to be able to accomplish what you want.”

“Sidwell?” Gavin laughed once more. “You are still trying to maintain
that
deception? Even I’ve heard the true fate of the infamous daughters of Sarah Siddons.”

“Then you know why I could not allow them to come to Rochester,” Vincent said curtly, seemingly undaunted by Gavin’s pointing out the truth.

“Are they as mad as they say?” Gavin couldn’t hold back his curiosity. Allowing rogues to roam free was bad enough, allowing mad vampires to live? Now that was a dangerous endeavor.

Vincent shoved his hands in his pockets and ducked under a tree limb. “They’re much better than they used to be, but that does not mean I will take the slightest risk of them taking off anywhere… especially not London.”

Gavin raised a brow, unable to conceal his confusion. “Wouldn’t Lord Villar arrest them and simply send them back to you?”

Vincent shrugged and walked faster so Gavin had to quicken his pace to keep up.

“My God,” Gavin said as comprehension dawned. “You don’t fully trust Villar. What happened between you two when you were last in London? The last time I saw, you two were the thickest of allies.”

“Oh, we still are, and there was no incident when I was there to aid him,” Vincent said amiably. “Rafe even aided me when the Siddons sisters nearly caused the Elders to have their heads, along with my own, when they tried to murder Thomas Lawrence.”

What Gavin would have given to witness that debacle. “So what is your quarrel with him then?”

“If you must know, he foolishly told them that he would allow them to kill the bastard if he tries to pursue their cousin.” Vincent’s eyes blazed with unholy light. “Damn it, I cannot wait until that bloody sod dies of old age, or is run down by a carriage. They say our lives are so long that the years of a mortal pass in the blink of an eye, but this man seems to have lingered forever.”

Gavin laughed as he tried to keep pace. “Blimey, Deveril, so you do have a ruthless side of your own after all.”

Vincent sighed. “If I did, I would have disposed of the man myself. All I’m saying is that the sooner Sir Thomas sloughs off his mortal coil, the sooner Sally and Maria will forget him and truly begin to heal.”

“They must be very talented seamstresses for you to keep them around,” Gavin said, resisting the urge to jibe at the vampire’s sentimentality.

“The very best,” Vincent agreed firmly as they arrived at an elegantly constructed stone cottage. “Why else would you be here?”

That was true, Gavin admitted to himself. Elena’s wardrobe mostly consisted of gowns made by the ‘Mad Sisters of Cornwall,’ as she called them. And for some reason, nothing but the best would do for Lenore. Again he wondered why he cared.

Although visiting a London seamstress was out of the question, given the tension between him and Lord Villar, there were dozens of reputed dressmakers closer to Rochester. But instead, he had written to the Lord of Cornwall to request the coveted gowns sewn by the Siddons sisters.

Because she is to be the Baroness of Darkwood
, he reminded himself.
How well she is garbed reflects on me
. Of course that was why.

Wasn’t it?

Justus paced through the underground chamber beneath the castle ruins, working out the first step in his plan to discredit Gavin. Every cell of his being quivered with impatience to begin now, however, wisdom dictated that this strategy would be more effective once Lord Darkwood was wed and tied to that London youngling for the next half century… not that she’d live that long if things progressed to their full potential.

And he couldn’t do much of anything while Rochester was absent. Not even spy upon Elena and the youngling. Gavin had doubled the guards he’d assigned over them before he departed. Justus frowned. Where had he gone? With the new alliances Gavin had forged last year, who knew what plans he could be hatching?

As if reading Justus’s mind, Charlie looked up from his dice game with Will. “With the lord absent, why can’t we venture out more? I’m starving.”

“Because Rochester tightens his vigilance tenfold when he has to leave here,” Justus explained. “There are thrice as many patrols, and thus three times the likelihood that we will be caught.”

Will nodded, eyes wide and fearful. “Rolfe has been gone awhile. You don’t suppose they got him, do you?”

Justus went cold. Rolfe had been with him for far less time than the others. And though he possessed more courage and strength than Charlie and Will, Justus had the disquieting feeling that if interrogated, he would be the one most likely to confess everything.

For what felt like an eternity, they waited in silence, watching the tunnel for the slightest hint of light or movement.

At last, they heard Rolfe’s familiar gait shambling through the passage, and detected his scent. Justus’s nostrils flared as another ominous odor reached him.
Vampire
Blood
.

Rolfe burst into the chamber, panting with exhaustion, eyes still glowing with vampiric fury. Fading bruises covered his face and he bled from a wound in his arm.

“What happened?” Justus demanded.

“Got into a tangle with one Rochester’s main vampires.” Rolfe rubbed his jaw with a dark scowl. “I would ‘ave ‘ad him if the other one hadn’t interfered.”

“Which one?” Justus asked sharply. “Benson has dark hair, while Cecil has yellow hair like Will.”

“Yellow hair,” Rolfe answered. “Dressed like a dandy… fought like one too.” He spat on the dusty stone floor. “If I get that blighter alone, I’ll—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Justus growled. Good God, Rolfe had fought with Cecil? That could have been bad. No, not
could have
, it
was
a travesty. Now Gavin’s third likely had Rolfe’s scent memorized.

“Why not?” Rolfe protested. “Why are we cowering down here when Rochester is gone? I say we go up there, slaughter his strongest vampires and take this land for ourselves.”

“If we did that, the Elders would slaughter
us
.” Justus rubbed his eyes, suddenly weary. “You will listen to me and follow my plan, or you will leave and find some other place to hide.”

For a moment it looked as if Rolfe would argue, but then he gave Justus a sullen nod and sat down to join the dice game.

Not for the first time did Justus regret taking the hot-headed rogue under his wing. If Rolfe ruined his plans for vengeance, Justus would kill him.

***

Lenore paced back and forth in the drawing room, nearly spilling her tea on the Persian carpet.

Elena’s voice chided behind her, “A lady never walks with a cup of tea.”

“But we can carry flutes of champagne and punch at a ball,” she argued, growing weary of her training in ladylike decorum.

Elena’s hands gently took the cup from hers. “I never said the rules were consistent. Now sit down before you wear a path in my rug. Honestly, I don’t see why you are so nervous about a night with a forgone conclusion.”

Because I did not know until last night’s invitation to visit Darkwood Manor was delivered that Gavin had returned,
she wanted to say.
Because Gavin sent a messenger to deliver the invitation instead of coming here in person. Because I’m not certain if I’m brave enough to ask him for something.

But all of that sounded foolish, as if she’d been deluded into thinking that this was a real courtship, rather than the farcical business arrangement that it was. Lenore smoothed her violet skirts as she joined Elena on the settee. “I suppose I am in need of a diversion after our hours of lessons. The intricacies of seating arrangements made me veritably dizzy.”

“Yes, they rather are,” Elena chuckled. Both froze at the sound of horse hoofs and carriage wheels coming down the drive.
“Here is your diversion now.”

Lenore’s stomach fluttered like a captive bird as Elena opened the door to admit Gavin. Was it possible that he had grown even more handsome in the five nights that he’d been absent? And where had he gone to take so long for his pretense to call upon her father? Did he have a mistress tucked away somewhere?

The flutter in her belly gave way to queasiness. She tamped down the feeling. A man had to fulfill his needs somewhere and since she would not… Besides, she had a more important matter to be concerned with.

Her thoughts broke off as he bowed and took her hand. “Miss Graves, you have grown even more enchanting in my absence. I do hope your glow is not due to another suitor usurping me while I was away?”

“Of course not, my lord,” she said quickly. “I would never be so fickle.” Why must he tease her?

“No,” he said, his eyes suddenly solemn. “You would not.” His thumb grazed her knuckles, sending shivers down her spine. “Well, shall we be off? I confess that I very much look forward to showing you my home… even though you’ve already seen some of it.”

During the carriage ride, he held her hand just as he did when he first started courting her. Lenore fought the compelling urge to fall back under the spell of his fairytale courtship. He could reveal his other side soon.

“Did your journey go well?” she asked tentatively.

“Oh yes, it was most diverting. I paid a call on the Lord of Cornwall,” he said with a conspiratorial smile. “And I brought you back a surprise, well, several surprises, though those will have to wait.”

The Lord of Cornwall
. A measure of tension melted away. She remembered the tall lean vampire who’d allied with Lord Villar. She’d even heard that he’d slain one of Clayton’s rogues, split the cur in two with a sword that was as long as a normal man’s height. And of course, she’d never forget Cornwall’s wife, a vampire even younger than Lenore who wielded a pistol like a marksman and exuded the confidence of a much older blood drinker. Lydia, her name had been. She’d spoken to Lenore after the battle, but Lenore had been in too much of a daze to recall the conversation.

Another thought intruded. Gavin hadn’t been with another woman!
Hush
, she scolded herself.
He has every right to be. Besides, he could have met with one on the way.