“That’s what he’s been doing for the last year—trying to stay ahead of them. Somehow, they must have found out I was involved; hence, they were looking for me at The Silver Chalice.” He pushed away from the railing. “At least no one knows there is a Venator in our midst,” he said, his lips twitching crookedly. “Polidori will be relieved to hear that. And with you in attendance, he won’t be in any hurry to leave. He’s safer here with you than anywhere else.”
“That is true. Can you arrange for me to speak with him tomorrow?”
“Of course. If you join us on our hunt in the morning, we should be able to take a few moments to speak alone where no one can hear.”
“Very well, then.”
He started to leave, moving toward her, and she suddenly felt exceedingly aware of…him, herself, the quiet and intimacy of the night. Victoria could have shifted out of his path, or opened the doors and slipped into the room before him…but she didn’t. His approach sent her gaze up into his face as he neared, and her belly pitched unsteadily.
“If you continue to look at me like that, Victoria, I’ll be most happy to give you what you want.” The edge in his voice was unfamiliar and brusque. “After all, you are no longer an innocent.”
She stood her ground and reached up
to touch his cheek with light fingertips. She’d never voluntarily touched a man before…except Phillip. She wanted Sebastian’s arms around her, not just a brush of mouth over mouth. She wanted to feel and to forget. She wanted to be more than a Venator, more than a widow, more than a sedate marchioness sipping tea while discussing the weather and who was fornicating with whom.
Sebastian allowed her fingers on his face for a moment; then, with studied casualness, he reached for her wrist and brought her palm gently to his mouth. A kiss on the inside cup of her hand, and one on her wrist, brought back the memory of the night he’d removed her glove and done the same. She’d never gotten that glove back.
“If I didn’t have to go to Polidori, you would be in quite a bit of trouble, my dear.” He released her hand and, without looking back at her, brushed past and through the French doors.
+ 6 +
In Which a Rather Disruptive Evening Ensues
* * *
As it turned out, Victoria did not meet up with Sebastian and Polidori as planned the next morning. Nor did she find the comfort of her bed for very long that night.
Lying there, reviewing the conversation with Sebastian and considering whether he had been completely forthcoming with her, Victoria became aware that the hair on the back of her neck had lifted. It was as if the gentle breeze from the balcony, where she had left the doors open after Sebastian eased out of the room, brushed over it.
However, since she was lying on her back, the pillow tucked into the curve of her nape, Victoria knew that was not the case.
If Sebastian was to be believed, the vampires had found Polidori.
Even if he wasn’t to be believed, the fact remained: Claythorne House had attracted some unwelcome guests.
Flinging the blankets away, along with her confused feelings about Sebastian, she rolled from the mattress, planting her feet silently on the floor. Victoria tucked her long braid down into the back of her gown (all the better to keep it from flying into her face during any ensuing fight) and shoved her arms back into the pelisse. The tight sleeves caused her nightgown arms to bunch up again, but she was in too much of a hurry this time to fix them. In the bottom of her trunk she scrabbled for her stakes, grabbed one, and also a small vial of holy water, which she tucked into a bulked-up sleeve. Slinging a palm-sized silver crucifix around her neck, she rushed out of the bedroom, not pausing to check whether the door closed behind her.
Out in the hall she hurried along, measuring the chill at the back of her neck. Too soon to tell how many there were. Did they know where Polidori was? Was it truly the author whom the vampires sought?
Once at the staircase she had to make a decision: up, down, or continue straight along the corridor? Nerves singing and pulse jumping, nevertheless she made herself pause, draw in a deep breath, and wait. Feel. Listen and smell.
Down.
Victoria fairly flew down the wide, sweeping staircase, stake clutched in her hand, leaping the last few steps and landing light-footed on the floor below. She hadn’t felt so alert and in control for months…months! This was what she was born to do.
Here again, she had to pause to sense the undead. Perhaps they had not found a way into the house yet. They had to wait for someone to invite them in, for a vampire could not enter a home, even if the door was open, unless asked by someone with authority to do so.
Since someone with authority could include personages as random as butlers, footmen, or even maids, that requirement did not provide the level of protection one would expect or hope for.
But, there was the amulet to consider. Whoever had lost the amulet was sure to be the one to invite them in.
Then she heard it. A clink, then a low, soft scootching sound from the library.
The library. Where she had left George Starcasset!
Victoria slipped behind the tall, thick column at the base of the stairs, her heart ramming in her chest. Resting her cheek against the chalky plaster, she peered from the shadow and could see into the open door of the room. Was he still there? Surely he was…he had been deeply asleep when she left him.
Try as she might, she could not see the chair where he’d slept, for it was in the shadows and facing the fireplace, away from the rest of the room. In his sleep, George would be helpless against any threat, but perhaps unnoticeable if he wasn’t snoring.