Not that kissing Sebastian was a hardship—it wasn’t in the least, for the man had very skillful lips and hands and…well, other means of distracting her. But there was a time and a place for that sort of activity, and Sebastian was a master at disregarding propriety.
There was a brief warning knock on the door to her chamber just before it opened and Verbena bustled in. “Yer mother and t’other ladies’re belowstairs,” she said. Behind her came a short parade of servants carrying a tub and buckets of water to fill it. “They’re wantin’ t’see you, my lady, and find out what happened last night to ye. ”
“Blast,” Victoria said under her breath. She needed to get to the Consilium.
“And I’m wanting to know,” Verbena said as she closed the door behind the last of the servants, “how th’ corset worked. Just so’s I can tell that Oliver so he’ll quit badgering me about it. Just because he had the first thought of it don’t mean he’s got t’know everything. And yer gown, my lady…what happened to them roses?”
Victoria sank into the hot water and sighed a long breath as she listened to the maid’s comfortable prattle. Her wounds burned, but it was more than bearable in conjunction with the pleasure of the bath. At some point, she’d need to tell Verbena that her whole coiffure had fallen apart when the vampires disarmed her and removed her stake—an inconvenience that would have to be rectified in the future. The long sagging of her hair had been a distraction.
At last, when the water was turning tepid, she stepped out into a large towel brandished by Verbena. As she turned to take a seat at the dressing table, her maid reached toward the clutter on it.
“What is this, my lady?” Verbena asked, her fingers pausing over the leather thong and the obsidian flake.
“Don’t touch that,” Victoria said, snatching at the shiny black pendant, closing her fingers around it to keep it hidden from prying eyes. It was heavy and warm in her hands for something so small, and she felt a sizzle of awareness prickle her fingers just as it had at the villa. “Just finish my hair so I can get on with my business. ”
Verbena’s eyes opened into full circles, but she wisely said nothing. Victoria was suddenly weary of the chattering maid, who always seemed to have to know what was going on. Could she not simply leave her to do her duty without trying to also be her confidante?
Images from her dream—of grasping, clawlike hands, and the gleam of the black splinters of obsidian—suddenly came back to her, nearly blinding her with their force.
But now, in the daylight, fully awake and away from her bed, Victoria wasn’t as overwhelmed by the dream and the evil it portended. Shaking the images away, she recognized what it was telling her, what she must be aware of. The vampire had been wearing a piece of Akvan’s Obelisk, and Akvan was back. He’d been called back to earth by the destruction of his obelisk.
If that little chip was important enough for the vampire to wear, how important must the larger shard be, the one Victoria stored at the Consilium?
One thing was certain: Victoria was going to take the small piece to the Consilium, where it would be safe from prying eyes and hands. As soon as she could make her excuses and extricate herself from her mother and the other ladies, she would remove the pendant from her home.
In the meantime, the safest place for it was in the pocket of her gown.
As she came down the stairs, Victoria heard the excited chatter of feminine voices in the parlor. She vacillated for a moment, considering whether she should ask for something to eat before joining the elder ladies, but her decision was made for her when she heard a high-pitched squeal from—it could only be—Lady Winnie, and the door opened as the other ladies chuckled in response. “Victoria,” crowed the duchess. “Come and join us. ”
“We feared you would lie abed all the day,” her mother added. “Come, sit, and let us tell you of our adventures last night. ”
Victoria was swept into the elegant chamber and seated on the only uncushioned surface in the room: a straight-backed chair situated betwixt her mother and the duchess. Just where she’d prefer not to be.
Before the ladies had an opportunity to begin their interrogation, there came a rap on the parlor door, and then Giorgio stepped in.
“For the signoras,” he said, looking at Lady Melly and her two companions as he gave a little bow. And then he stepped back, and into the room came three more servants, each carrying a bouquet of flowers larger than the one before.
Victoria watched in amusement as the three ladies dug through prickly stems, fernlike leaves, and various colored petals to find each bouquet’s enclosed letter.
“For me?” Lady Winnie clasped the smallest collection of flowers to her ample bosom, burying her face in the beautiful lilies that carried their precious scent throughout the room. They were white with pink blushes down their centers, and when she pulled her face from their ivory petals her bulbous nose was streaked with yellow pollen. She didn’t seem to know or care, even when she began to sneeze violently enough that the poor lilies released more pollen into the air. “It’s from that lovely gentleman we met last evening,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath as she finished her explosive sneezing.
“So he did not come to call, but he sent flowers in his stead. ” Melly, who was the recipient of the largest and most glorious of the flower arrangements, sniffed. It was made of roses of every shade of pink imaginable, and with a single white rose in the center.
“But he sent you the largest of vases,” Lady Nilly said, nearly hidden behind a profusion of pink gillyflowers and red tulips. “You most certainly must be the one who caught his eye. ”
“But he did not come to call,” replied Melly, her long, slender nose still lifted in disdain. “I shall ensure that we are not home tomorrow in the event he should attempt to show his face,” she added, thrusting the massive vase at Victoria. “In fact, my dear, I believe you should accompany us to make calls. ”
“Make calls? On whom?” Victoria asked, startled into paying attention by the large bouquet Melly had given her, and her mother’s imperious comment. “We know no one here. ”
“You’ve been in Rome nearly six months, and you know no one here? That is abhorrent, Victoria. But it’s also not true. You know the Tarruscelli girls, of course. ”
“Yes, indeed. That is all—”
“So you will go on calls with us tomorrow. And we none of us will be here if Alberto deigns to show his face. ”
“His handsome face,” Winnie corrected her. “His very handsome face. Although he is a bit shorter than Lord Jellington. And bald. And he cannot spell ‘enchanted. ’”
“Alberto?” squeaked Nilly. “He signed his name Alberto on your card?”