It would be easy to return to her betrothed; but it would not be so easy to accept that she had killed Lord Truscott of the soft brown eyes and clumsy feet.
"It has happened!" Lady Melisande burst into Winnie's drawing room without waiting for the butler. "Oh, glory be, it has happened! Victoria is to be a marchioness!"
"Rockley has come up to snuff?" Winnie leaped to her feet with surprising agility for one so well cushioned. "Oh, Melly, I am enraptured for you! And for Victoria, too, of course!"
"Victoria is to marry Rockley?" Petronilla exclaimed at the precise moment the duchess squealed. "Get out of my way, Winnie, so I can hug her too!"
The ladies danced around the room, the china and knickknacks clinking in their wake.
"He came just shortly ago to get my blessing—as if he needed to ask!" Melly, out of breath, huffed as she sank into a chair.
Winnie, who had snatched up two blueberry scones, did not pause in her enthusiastic prancing until she'd poured tea for the newest arrival. Then she plunked down next to her.
"We shall have to begin planning the wedding immediately. It will be the event of the Season!" Petronilla said. "But do tell, did Victoria have any details about the incident at the Madagascar ball last night? It is the talk of the town!"
Winnie slammed a hand to her chest, closing her fingers around the crucifix that rested on the shelf of her bosom. If possible, it was an even bigger cross than the one she'd been wearing last week. "Nilly was just telling me about it. I'm certain it was a vampire attack!"
Melly looked at them. "Whatever are you talking about?"
"Miss Emily Colton was attacked last night, in the gardens at the Madagascars' house. She was not hurt, but frightened, and her escort, Lord Truscott, has disappeared," Winnie explained.
"Why do you think it was a vampire attack?" Melly said, rolling her eyes. "Lord Truscott likely got too familiar with Miss Colton and she sent him on his way… and did not want to confess that she'd been walking in the garden alone with him. Miss Colton has been known to be a bit loose, you know. "
"But no one knows where he is," said Winnie. "And it was in the dark. And her neck was scratched. "
"Per
haps Lord Truscott is a vampire," said Petronilla. Her eyes gleamed like sapphires. "Perhaps he was overcome by lust and could not resist any longer, and tried to seduce Miss Colton in the gardens…"
"What nonsense! Nilly, Winnie, I declare, if you would rather go on about vampires instead of helping me to plan Victoria's wedding, then I will leave you two to it!"
"No, Melly, we'll stop. I don't want to talk about them anyway," Winnie said, shooting a look at Petronilla. "There's nothing about them that fascinates me on any level. They are evil bloodsucking creatures, dirty and smelly with claws and long hair—"
"They are not! Mrs. Lawson's daughter's neighbor's sister was the one who had one in her bedchamber, and she said he smelled like licorice and that he was cleanshaven and—"
"I thought you did not want to talk about them!" Melly interrupted, standing. "I am going to leave if either one of you mentions the word vampire again. "
Winnie clamped her mouth shut. Petronilla raised her teacup to her lips and sipped, gazing innocently out the window.
"Now," Melisande said, settling back into her chair, "which modiste should we have make the dress?"
"Victoria always looks well with Madame LeClaire's designs," replied Petronilla.
"I was not talking about Victoria's gown! I meant my dress!" said Melly indignantly.
"Well, in that case, I suggest we take ourselves out of here and down to Bond Street for a shopping excursion!" said Winnie.
And they very happily did just that, with Winnie clutching her crucifix the whole way.
The sun was lowering when Victoria climbed out of Barth's hackney only a short distance from the home of Rudolph Caulfleld, the man who owned the Book of Antwartha. Sebastian had clearly indicated that the vampires acting on Lilith's behalf were to arrive at night, but Victoria was taking no chances that they might come and go before she got there.
Verbena had helped her to dress, not as a man this night, nor as a debutante, but as a Venator, in a costume the maid had specially prepared. It consisted of a split skirt that appeared no different from any other day dress, but which would allow her more freedom of movement. The sleeves were firmly anchored to the shoulders of the dress's bodice, unlike the filmy, frothy ones that were often barely basted onto normal evening apparel. The cloth was dark blue, with very little ornamentation, and of a soft cotton, so there would be no rustling noises of taffeta or charmeuse. Its length was a bit shorter than what Victoria was used to wearing, several inches from the ground.
The most unique aspects of the costume were two small slipknots into which Victoria could slide stakes to hang at her waist, and two deep pockets hidden in the folds of the skirt, where she might put salted holy water, a crucifix, and other accoutrements.
When Victoria slipped out of the hackney, she left her cloak behind; it was a balmy summer evening, and the excitement of the adventure would keep her warm. Barth was given his instructions, and she turned from the coach.
Earlier in the day she and Verbena had traveled to Caulfield's home, known as Redfield Manor, in order to ascertain its location, its geography, and an appropriate place where Victoria might wait and watch without being noticed.