As Shadows Fade (The Gardella Vampire Chronicles 5) - Page 31

And she knew if Max survived the Trial and became a Venator again, he’d be in the thick of whatever it was.

If Victoria thought that things with Max would change completely after he divested her of that pink froth (which, incidentally, Verbena had found crumpled beneath one of the tables at the top of the staircase… in two pieces), she was wrong.

It felt as if they wore new clothing that didn’t fit quite right yet.

Offering a vague excuse, Max left the bedchamber shortly after Verbena did, grabbing up a chunk of cheese wrapped in crusty bread and casting a lingering look over Victoria as he slipped out the door.

He didn’t kiss her… though she could tell he wanted to.

She sighed in exasperation after he’d gone. He was definitely not comfortable with this new arrangement. However, she stretched and smiled and rolled onto her stomach to bury her face in the sheets, inhaling his scent still imprinted on the pillow… taking a rare moment in her stressful life to simply enjoy something that most people took for granted.

Soon enough-tomorrow-they’d be traveling posthaste to Prague, and then on to wherever Lilith was, and there would be little time for pleasure of any kind.

If it wasn’t enough that Victoria suddenly felt odd in her skin around Max, she also had to contend with her mother, for Lady Melly called not more than two hours later.

“My dear Victoria,” Lady Melly said, frowning at her daughter, “whatever is the matter with you?”

Victoria blanched a bit, her hand moving to her neck as though to feel for… what? Vampire bites? Love bites? “What do you mean, Mother?”

“Why, you look as though you can barely walk. Did you have a fall?”

Victoria’s face warmed and her hand fell from her throat. “No, indeed. I’m simply a bit… tired.”

“Well, you certainly don’t look tired,” Melly said, eyeing her critically. “You look… well, if I didn’t know better, I’d think… well .”

Was that a flush settling over her mother’s cheeks?

“Mother, I’m sorry that I don’t have time to visit, but I was just leaving.”

“Leaving? Are you making calls? Perhaps I’ll go with you… but you aren’t dressed for calls, Victoria. You simply cannot wear-”

“Mother,” Victoria interrupted, gesturing at Charley to call for a carriage that she didn’t really need. Desperate circumstances required desperate acts.

“I’m not making calls. I have to meet with Aunt Eustacia’s barrister,” she explained, thinking quickly. “It appears I might have to travel back to Rome to attend to business there.” That, at least, was true… the business being retrieving the copper ring from the Consilium. But from there, it would be on to Prague.

“You are going to the barrister, instead of him calling here? Why that’s simply not done, Victoria! Not by a marchioness, indeed not. And where are your gloves? I daresay-”

“Mother,” Victoria said, enunciating clearly, “I must not be late for my appointment. Was there something you wished to speak with me on?”

“Why… why… and did you say going to Rome? To handle business ? But, Victoria, that’s why you have a barrister to manage all of the inheritance from your aunt. There’s no need for you to dirty your hands with that. Speaking of which, where are your gloves? And”-her voice became more strident as her daughter opened her mouth to respond-“aside of that, the apparent Marquess of Rockley has arrived in London this day… which was why I hurried over to notify you.”

“Thank you for that pertinent information, Mother,” Victoria said drily. She glanced longingly toward the door.

At that moment, it opened and Max stepped in.

Lady Melly looked at him. Up at him. And she took a step back. A slight one, but a step nevertheless. Her attention darted to Victoria, as if to measure her response to the imposing man who’d just entered her home uninvited.

Melly had met Max only briefly over the years that he assisted Aunt Eustacia, and Victoria wasn’t certain whether she even remembered or recognized him.

“Your carriage is waiting, my lady,” Max said in the driest of voices. There was no mistaking him for a footman. Victoria saw a glint of humor in his eyes, and she lifted her chin in an effort not to smile.

“I’m sorry, Mother, but I simply must go. Do give the marquess my best wishes.” She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I shall likely be leaving for Rome tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Lady Melly shrieked.

Victoria winced.

Max grimaced, and Victoria slipped past him through the open door. Her mother’s words followed her like the screech of an owl, and Victoria dimly registered something about a welcome ball for the presumed marquess.

“You must give him my regrets, Mother,” she said over her shoulder, certain that Melly would at least seize upon the excuse to speak to the marquess if she didn’t have a daughter to thrust at him.

To Victoria’s surprise, Max followed her to the carriage. He spoke briefly to the groom, and then stepped inside. The door closed, and as the vehicle started off with a gentle lurch, Max settled in the seat… across from her.

Apparently, old habits died hard.

For a moment, the only noise was the rhythmic clopping of hooves on the cobbled street and the faint creak of the carriage springs. Victoria studied him, feeling as though at last she’d earned the privilege of watching him as long and as hard as she wished.

As he often did, Max gazed out the small window, giving her little more to look at than the profile of a strong, straight nose and solid chin, now clean-shaven. And his mouth.

Her own mouth dried just a little, as she remembered with perfect clarity all of the wonderful places those lips had been, and all of the breathtaking things they’d done. Victoria’s belly did that little flip that settled into a warm tingling through her limbs, and she swallowed.

“Rather a shame to hitch up the horses for a drive around the block,” she commented drily, breaking the silence at last. “But I knew that, short of leaving the house, I’d not escape from Mother.”

“I thought perhaps you might have another use for the carriage.”

Victoria looked sharply at him, but he still peered out the window. She couldn’t tell from his profile whether that glint of humor… or heat… was there in his eyes.

But heat definitely warmed her cheeks.

“Such as?” she asked.

Tags: Colleen Gleason The Gardella Vampire Chronicles Vampires
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