Blood Marriage (9 page)

"Where have you been?" she asked, both from genuine curiosity and to allow herself time to gather her courage for the difficult task ahead. 

"Changing for dinner, of course."

He was being purposefully obtuse. She grasped the polished oak banister with her free hand and gritted her teeth against the pain in her knees as she began the descent. "You know what I meant. Where have you been for the past week?"

They'd only descended a handful of steps, but he paused. Elizabeth closed her eyes, letting the waves of pain wash over and through her, schooling her features to a pleasant expression. When she opened them again, he was waiting, watching her. 

"Well? Where were you?" she demanded to cover her distress. One corner of his mouth cocked up, but his eyes were sober. 

"Searching," he said, and led her down a few more steps before stopping again.

He pointed to a large oval transom window set high in the exterior wall over the home's mammoth entry door. "My father lost interest in it after my mother died, but when I was a child, he would hunt. My mother would entertain his guests' wives while the men spent the day in the woods. They often came home with nothing in their game bags, so I suspect they weren't hunting so much as taking a break from the women."

Elizabeth concentrated on the soothing timbre of his voice, and tried to ignore the burning ache in her knees.

"When I was still too young to go with the men," he continued, "I would come here at just this time of day, right before dusk. I would sit a few steps above where we're standing now and watch for the men to come out of the woods. As soon as I saw them, I'd run out to meet them." 

A vision of Devlin stepping out of the woods, their own small boy running out to meet him filled Elizabeth's mind. She pushed it away. That would never be. She was barely able to make it down these stairs. She should tell him the truth, and she would, but at the moment it was taking all her courage to simply remain on her feet.

Fortunately, Devlin seemed content to stand quietly contemplating the view through the transom. And as the pain subsided, Elizabeth too looked out the oval window. The view was an impressive one. The window framed the curve of a portion of the driveway that led to the house. Off to one side of it, across a broad expanse of open field, was the shadowy line of the forest. Fiery clouds streaked the sky above the trees outlining the top of a stone tower that rose out of the leaves. 

That was strange. In the week since she'd come to Heaven's Edge, she'd looked out this transom more than once, yet she'd never noticed that tower. Now, framed in the center of the window with the setting sun glowing like orange fire behind its turrets, it looked like something a fanciful artist might have painted. As she watched, the sun dipped lower and the tower's ghostly gray stone blended away, disappearing into the forest canopy. 

The sun was almost down. Soon the night creatures that lurked in the forest would begin moving about. Did they look on the house with the same sudden apprehension she felt as she looked out at the woods? Elizabeth shivered.

"Searching for what?" she asked, picking up the dangling thread of their earlier conversation. She thought she heard him chuckle under his breath, but when she glanced at him, his face was serious. 

They began their descent again and she clung to the banister to avoid leaning too heavily on his arm. By the time he stopped once more, this time just five steps from the entry hall floor, she was clenching her teeth so tightly her jaw ached. It took her a few moments to notice that they stood at the center of an oval of light created by the rays of the setting sun pouring through the transom.

"Searching for what?" she repeated. 

To her astonishment he sat on the stairs, and pulled her down beside him.

"For shoes and gowns and..." His eyes drifted over her. Elizabeth thought of the filmy negligees upstairs and her cheeks grew hot. His slow smile told her he knew where her mind had gone. "...and other things," he finished.

"You are amazingly good at selecting ladies'... clothing." Elizabeth shifted a little away from him, smoothing her dress. Lord Devlin grinned.

"You needn't worry, Elizabeth. I'm neither rake nor dandy. Mrs. Huntington was of great assistance. Though I admit there were a few items Mrs. Huntington had nothing to do with." His blue eyes regarded her and the violet dress was suddenly too warm. 

"We should go to dinner." Elizabeth started to stand. Devlin took one of her hands. She sat down again. 

"There was something else I was searching for." He produced a small velvet bag from his pocket and shook its contents out onto his palm. "It isn't the same one I gave Miss Blakely. That one belonged to some long ago ancestor. This ring..." He held up a single blood-red ruby on a woven gold band. The stone shimmered in the transom light. He slipped it on Elizabeth's finger. "This ring belonged to my mother."

"Your mother?" It suddenly occurred to Elizabeth she knew almost nothing about Lord Devlin and his family. 

"My mother died two years ago, Elizabeth. Shortly before my sister left for Egypt with her husband."

"I am so sorry." Elizabeth thought of her own mother. "It's hard to lose someone you love."

"My mother chose death," he said.

The expression on Elizabeth's face must have mirrored her thoughts.

"Not suicide. Not precisely," Devlin's voice was whisper soft. "My mother was a victim of her own virtue, her own truth."

Truth. The word shamed Elizabeth. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, but something at the top of the stairs had drawn Devlin's attention. A voice hummed down from above.

"The ruby glows best in the moonlight. Doesn't it,
mea fiu
? A beacon of safety against the terrors of darkness." 

The man's accent was so familiar that at first Elizabeth thought it was Dr. Bergen. But as he left the landing to come down the stairs, she realized her mistake. This man was decades older than the doctor. 

White hair ringed his bald head from ear to ear like a halo, then continued in thin sideburns down his cheeks to join a long but precisely trimmed beard. The beard extended deep into the 'v' formed by the thick chain that hung around his neck. From that chain a silver crucifix swung, suspended over the mound of his round belly, its shining cross standing in stark relief against his black robe. 

"Father Vlad." Nicholas rose to his feet, gently bringing Elizabeth up with him. "Allow me to introduce my betrothed, Miss Elizabeth Smith."

The priest made Elizabeth a half-bow. "It is good to meet you, my child." 

Elizabeth's family had always been members of the Church of England. Unsure how to greet a priest from another church, she returned his half-bow with the best curtsy her position on the stairs and her aching joints would allow. "I am pleased to meet you as well, Father Vad."

"Vlad," he corrected her kindly. "It is Romanian."

"Father Vlad is a member of the family, Elizabeth. My parents met him on a trip to Romania when I was a small boy. He has been with us ever since."

Lord Devlin escorted her slowly down the last few steps and across the spacious entry hall as he spoke. Father Vlad followed. When they reached the door to the dining room, Devlin paused just long enough to give her an encouraging smile. They entered a room made bright with dozens of candles. The air was heavy with the pungent and not unpleasing scent of cigar smoke.

Standing in conversational clusters around a long table laid with sparkling crystal and fine china, three men dressed in sober black stood with four ladies in brightly colored evening gowns. They turned as one when Elizabeth, Lord Devlin and Father Vlad entered the room.

"Dear Elizabeth!" Harriet rushed forward to plant a cold kiss on Elizabeth's cheek. "It has been too long since we've seen our Elizabeth, hasn't it Mama?" As the countess edged her daughter aside, Harriet continued, "I was telling the duke, how difficult it has been for us to lose our sweet friend, but how honored we are she is joining such a distinguished family."

The Countess Glenbury greeted her former companion with a disapproving sniff before launching into a speech about the rigors of travel outside the city. Elizabeth nodded to whatever Countess Glenbury was saying, but her attention was on the gentleman Harriet had referred to as the duke. That this man could be Lord Devlin's father came as a shock. He looked no more than a decade older than Devlin himself and while their handsome faces made it obvious they were related, the Duke of Marlbourne was as blond and thickly built as his son was dark and slim. 

"...the duke's carriage," the countess droned on, "was delightful of course -- so well-sprung we felt we rode from London on a cloud. But the air in this part of England always holds something that makes my eyes water and my..."

As the woman continued on, the Duke of Marlbourne sauntered up behind the countess, puffing a cigar. To Elizabeth's amazement he winked at her over the countess's shoulder, then blew gray-white smoke at the woman's head. Countess Glenbury's monologue ended abruptly in a coughing fit. The lady moved on, choking and waving her hand in front of her face. 

Marlbourne tossed his still burning cigar at a footman, who caught it on a silver tray with practiced ease. Elizabeth extended her hand to him, but he brushed it aside. The smell of expensive tobacco and fine wine enveloped her as the duke crushed her in a massive hug. There would be bruises tomorrow, but Elizabeth couldn't help smiling at her future father-in-law's strange and enthusiastic welcome.

"Let's have a look," the duke said when he released her. He held one of her hands above her head and twirled her around slowly, then leaned in to whisper against her cheek. "My son is a lucky man. Welcome to the family, Elizabeth." 

Nicholas placed his hand against Elizabeth's back to steady her. The duke leaned toward his son, pitching his voice low. "You made the better choice, son." He tilted his head in the direction of Amanda Fosse. "
Bookish.
"

"The Fosses are close friends," Nicholas reminded his father. The duke shrugged and waved to his footman, who presented his tray to his master. The duke retrieved the cigar, puffing rapidly at it before blowing an impressive cloud of smoke. "Now where is that little red-headed gal I was talking to earlier? A bit snobbish, but pretty enough." 

Father Vlad beckoned to a second rougher-faced footman, one who looked suspiciously like he had a wad of tobacco in his mouth. "Remove the duke's wine glass. He'll have water with dinner."

The wine glass was taken away. The duke scowled, but when the priest said, "There'll be brandy after dinner," Marlbourne's expression cleared and he drifted across the room to join Harriet and the countess. What he said to those ladies, Elizabeth couldn't hear, but they laughed fawningly in response.

Doctor Bergen came forward to kiss Elizabeth's hand in a way that made Nicholas frown, but said nothing out of the ordinary before seeking the company of the priest. Amanda Fosse hugged Elizabeth with enough enthusiasm to knock her own spectacles askew. Leo shook hands with Nicholas while his new mother-in-law, Mrs. Blakely, smiled on them all. Elizabeth had just started to ask about the Fosse's journey from London when the doors behind her swung open. 

A footman stepped into the room, nervously adjusting his collar. In the hall behind him, Margaret and Katie stood close together. The footman looked over his shoulder, but not in the direction of the maids. "I'm sorry, your grace, they wouldn't wait to be announced," he said before he was pushed aside. 

Randall swaggered in and everyone in the room went still. On his arm was the most exotic woman Elizabeth had ever seen. Auburn curls cascaded from a thick bun at the crown of her head, writhing past cream white shoulders to settle on the plump mounds of her large breasts. Her dress was deep purple satin, its bodice cut so low at the neckline that each breath threatened scandal. The tight material skimmed past a small waist and clung to full, curvaceous hips. Cat green eyes flashed about the room and the woman's generous red mouth stretched into a slow predatory smile.

Lord Devlin's hand dropped away from the small of Elizabeth's back and he stepped in front of her. Doctor Bergen's wineglass fell from his fingers, tumbling to the table, its contents spilling a blood-red gash across the white linen cloth. Father Vlad's face had gone as white as his beard. One hand clutched his crucifix, the other made the sign of the cross. 

Only the duke seemed unaffected. He sauntered forward, twirling the wine glass he'd pilfered from Harriet by its stem. He stopped in front of Randall and the woman and peered at them.

"Thought you were dead," he said, swayed a little, then wandered back to the table and flopped down in the seat at its head. He drained the last of Harriet's wine in one great swallow before waving the empty glass at the assembly. "Shall we dine?"

"First," Randall grinned, showing the wide gap between his front teeth. He was obviously enjoying the stir he and the green-eyed woman had created. "Allow me to introduce to you my mother's new companion, Miss Lucy Varcolac."

Anger twisted Harriet's face, but it was Countess Glenbury's look of surprise followed quickly by resignation that fascinated Elizabeth. It was clear neither the dowager nor her daughter had ever before laid eyes on Miss Varcolac. 

"Good evening, Glenbury." Nicholas made the man a stiff half-bow. He did not offer his hand. "We were not aware you would be joining us here in the country."

Randall smirked, returning an even curter bow. "Miss Varcolac was eager to begin her new duties as companion, so I brought her along to my mother. And now that we're here, I've decided to stay and observe the, er, festivities." 

He'd decided to stay?
Elizabeth blinked, stunned that a coward like Randall dared insult the Duke of Marlbourne and his son in their own home. She held her breath waiting for the explosion she was sure would follow Randall's outrageous speech. But Marlbourne merely leaned back in his chair frowning. And though a muscle twitched in Lord Devlin's jaw and his expression looked murderous, he too ignored Randall’s obvious insult to hospitality and bowed low to the woman at Randall's side.