After Midnight (8 page)

"Emily…"

She opened her eyes. "I can't," she whispered. "I want to. But I can't."

He guided her head to his shoulder and smoothed her hair with his hand. "How did you know what I was going to say?"

"I knew because I was thinking the same thing. I want to make love to you." Her voice was shaky. She could hear his heart beating to the same rhythm as her own. "But I can't. Not without marriage, Gordon."

"I understand."

She lifted her cheek from his chest to gaze into his eyes. "Do you?"

"I admire your ability to resist my charms."

She laughed, but she felt like crying.

"It's one of the things I love about you." He ran the back of his hand across her cheek. "You're so worldly and yet there is such an innocence… no, goodness, about you. You make me see goodness in myself."

"I'll find the answer. I know it's in the book."

"Promise me just the same. Promise me because I know you'll keep the promise."

She felt tears sting the backs of her eyelids. What if she didn't find the answer? There was that doubt, creeping in like a dark shadow. She pushed it aside. She would not consider the possibility. She would find the answer.

"Promise me," Gordon pressed.

"I promise."

He kissed her again, but then, before the kiss became too intense, he pulled away. "Come on. Let's go out and play. A skipping stone contest. I know I can beat you this time."

She laughed. "You sound like a child."

"It's been a long time since I've had someone to play with. Come on." He bumped into one of the crates Angus had hauled from the castle's bowels for Gordon to inventory. When Gordon struck the box, the corner popped open and something tumbled out.

"What is that?"

"Aha! My word. There they are."

"What?" She walked around to the front of the box. To her astonishment there was a diamond tiara, necklaces of gold and silver, and puddles of loose emeralds and rubies. "What are they?"

He crouched and scooped up the jewels, pushing them back into the crate. "I wondered where they'd gotten to."

Emily stared. "What jewels are those, Gordon? Where did you get them?"

He dusted his hands, making sounds of exasperation as he rose. "I told Angus they had to be here somewhere. "

"Whose are they?"

"Mine." He smiled.

"Before that, Gordon!"

He grabbed her arm, leading her away. "Oh, some Spanish queen. That one that sent Chris Columbus on his merry way."

"Queen Isabella?" Emily tried to look over her shoulder at the crate again, but Gordon dragged her away.

"Come on, before it gets dark. Race you to the shore."

She returned her attention to the man she loved.

"That's not fair. I've a cumbersome skirt to contend with."

"So have I." He tugged at the handsome kilt he wore.

"I think mine is a little longer."

"I'll give you a head start then."

Emily glanced back at the vampire book left open on the table. "I really should work another hour."

"Ready… set…"

She grasped her black cotton damask skirt and pulled it above her knees. "Go!" she shouted and took off.

Their laughter echoed off the walls of the great hall as they dashed for the door.

"I don't want to go."

"Ye promised me, E. Bruce."

Emily sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase, her hand in Gordon's. Their time was up. She had failed. Her bags were packed and waiting on the dock. Angus had carried them down an hour ago. The two lovebirds had gone to wait for the mail steamer to give Gordon and Emily a few minutes alone.

"We have to go to the dock," Gordon said, entirely composed. "The steamer will be here any minute and it won't wait." He spoke as calmly as if they were discussing a book restoration, or dusting the library. He did not sound like a man who was about to die an agonizing death. "Now Angus will go with you. I've insisted. He'll just have to hang his head over the rail. He's to return alone in a week and dispose of my body."

A choking lump rose in her throat. "Gordon—"

He squeezed her hand. "Let me finish. We really haven't much time. I can already feel…" He let his voice fade.

"Feel what? Tell me." She gripped his hand, gazing into the face that she loved so dearly.

"Please don't ask me. I want to protect you from this evil."

"You are
not
evil."

He took a deep breath.

She hung her head. "Go on," she said softly.

"Now when it's safe—" He returned to his businesslike tone. "You can return to Fraser Castle or send someone, if you prefer. You're welcome to anything I have. Give the rest to museums." He smoothed her hand in his, his brow creasing. "I just wish I'd gotten to opening some of those other crates. I know there are some of those fancy Russian eggs here somewhere. What do you call them?" He clicked his fingers together.

Tears filled Emily's eyes. "Don't make me go. Let me stay here with you. Let me hold you."

He smiled bittersweetly and kissed her palm. "Nay. I canna. I've told you, I canna control the urge. You would be in mortal danger."

"I don't think I care. Please, just—"

"Emily," he said firmly. "If you love me, if you truly love me as you say you do, you'll go. I'll be the happiest vampire alive, knowing you're safe."

She couldn't resist a smile. She brought her lips to his. "I do love you," she whispered.

"And I love you, E. Bruce MacDougal, even if you did get your hand on my Gutenberg on the sly." He rose, pulling her up with him. "Now ye must go."

In the brighter light of the hall she noticed the shade of his eyes was changing. Where the pupils had once been dark brown, they were now streaked with green. His face was beginning to appear gaunt. Had he not been eating well lately and she'd just not noticed, or was some physical transformation taking place?

"Will you at least walk me down?"

He shook his head. His hand trembled as he freed one of her springy red curls from behind her ear. "Nay. Go, whilst I still have the power to let ye."

Emily could feel her heart ripping in half, its jagged edges oozing blood, pain. She wished now that she had made love with him. She wished she had more of him to take with her than a few books, a few pieces of Egyptian jewelry, and the precious Gutenberg, still in need of repair.

"You do have more," Gordon said.

She stared at him. How had he known what she was thinking? "I do?"

"You have my love." He brushed his fingertips over her left breast. "Here with you, always."

Emily didn't say goodbye because she couldn't bear it. She turned away, lifted her heavy black skirt, and ran from the hall. She ran out the door and down the same winding path she'd climbed up a month ago. Only now it seemed as if centuries had passed.

By the time she reached the dock, Emily's tears were spent. She walked the last one hundred feet and composed herself. Gordon wanted her to be brave. She needed to be brave for him, for herself.

She found Angus and Ruth on the floating dock, perched on the baggage, hand in hand. Angus was already looking a little pale, a little green.

"Storm's coming in," Ruth said. She pointed overhead. "Angus says we have to take the steamer but I think he'd be better to wait for calmer seas. I wouldn't mind staying another month." She rolled her eyes. "But you know he's protesting. I seem to be the only one who's not gone daft around here. You're willing to leave a man you're clearly in love with for fear he'll bite your neck, and this one here—" She hooked her thumb in Angus's direction. "He's willing to risk eternal seasickness just to get off the island."

Emily gazed up into the sky as she pushed back the hair that blew in her face. Where had the wind come from? It hadn't been windy this morning when she and Gordon had walked. The ocean had been calm.

Before her eyes, the sun disappeared behind dark, swirling clouds that seemed to circle the castle. It was the oddest weather phenomenon she had ever seen.

"Does this happen often here?" She lifted the hood of her cloak. Suddenly she was cold, cold to her bones.

"Nay." He rose, lifting the tiny Ruth to her feet with one meaty hand. "But I was nay here when last the anniversary came."

Suddenly the sky seemed to open up and rain pelted them. Ruth gave a squeal and drew up her bonnet. Angus shrugged off his black frock coat and held it over her so she'd not get wet.

"There lies the steamer." He pointed, swaying with the shifting dock.

Emily lifted on her toes and stared at the horizon. The sea was churning and the waves rising. White caps speckled the sea. Water splashed up over the dock.

"We'd best move to higher ground." Angus grabbed half the bags. Ruth hurried after him, fussing in the rain.

Emily scooped up her two bags from the wet dock. Another wave splashed over, wetting her shoes and stockings. "What about the steamer?" she shouted above the wind. She glanced over her shoulder. The mail boat was less than a quarter of a mile from them, being thrown in the rough sea.

On solid ground, all three lowered their bags and stared at the churning ocean. They watched in eerie silence as the steamer slowly turned and began to chug its way back toward the mainland.

"Too rough to dock?" Emily whispered, unable to believe her eyes. What were they going to do? Gordon had made it clear that no human could be near him at the hour of his bewitching.

"Guess that's that," Ruth declared, and started up the rocky path toward the castle.

Emily was touched by how matter-of-fact Ruth was. She didn't believe so she didn't realize what danger she was in. Perhaps it was better that way.

Ruth's bustle swayed as she climbed the muddy slope. "Igor, love," she called over her shoulder. "Cart those bags back up to the castle, will you? Emily and I will have to make a run for it."

Emily's gaze met Angus's.

"We canna return," he said simply.

Of course Angus understood the danger. He lived with Gordon Fraser. "We've no choice," Emily whispered. "The boat's not coming back for us. Not tonight at least."

Angus's wide, ruddy face went even paler. "We must do something. My master will be very angry with me." A message passed without words between them. He feared not so much for himself but for her and Ruth. The fact that Ruth did not believe Gordon was a vampire would not protect her.

"It's not your fault, Angus. We'll think of something. We still have a few hours." She gripped his arm. "Now let's get Ruth out of this rain before she catches her death." She forced a smile. "And look on the bright side. This will give me a few more hours with the vampire book. Maybe I'll find the antidote."

"Why have ye returned?" Gordon met them in the front hall. It was him and yet it was not. His voice was deeper, laced with fingers of… malevolence.

Emily felt a trickle of fear. But she stood her ground in the hallway, dripping water on the ancient tiled floor. "The steamer didn't come for us, Gordon. We had to come back."

Ruth tiptoed by them, with Angus trailing her. They disappeared down the corridor lit by flickering candlelight.

"You shouldna have come back," Gordon said.