Dark Rapture (30 page)

***

Having enjoyed a leisurely dinner with Angelique by the bay windows in the study, Scarlet was now content and happy. Angelique excused herself for an afternoon nap, encouraging Scarlet to explore the gardens, where Sebastian would be sure to find her. Everyone else in the house was busy. Roland and Jacques had gone to town before breakfast to tend to ‘business,’ as Angelique put it. Gregoire was off, God knew where, with his companion
.
And the house servants, though not in sight, were bustling around making sure that all was clean and fresh.

“Well, this is my chance to think about things,” Scarlet said to herself as she wandered across the lawn, her skirts kissing the delicate blades.

But she knew already what had to happen. She hadn’t been able to think of anything else since Sebastian left this morning.

“ Francesco! ”

“Elisabeth Montrose.” Approaching across the yard, he bowed elegantly, clutching a sword to his chest as he did. “It is a pleasure to see you again. I must apologize for not returning the other night. My services were needed for much longer than I had expected.”

“That’s quite all right.”

“I see that it is.” He looked down, pushing the point of his rapier into the grass at the toe of his boot. “So, you did get to meet Monsieur LeReaux after all.”

“Yes, I made Sebastian’s acquaintance, and he offered me a place to stay. Being in an inconvenient situation, I accepted.”

“Yes, and I hear that you have accepted more than that.” His hand swung out, forming a triangle of space between his body and sword. “I’m sorry,” he said seeing her irritation. “I had no right. Please forgive me, mademoiselle. I wish only for your friendship and for your future happiness with my friend.”

She accepted his apology, letting him kiss the top of her hand. He looked almost villainous, dressed in black velvet and white lace from head to toe, and sporting a weapon.

“So, I can rest assured that you haven’t come seeking vengeance against Sebastian?” she asked, with a nod toward his sword.

“Pardon? Oh!” He slashed the blade through the air, making two quick thrashing noises. “No, dear lady. Sebastian and I engage in a friendly sparring match a few times every week. I’m teaching him the sport. But it seems I’ve missed him today. Annalise tells me he departed after breakfast on errands for his mother. But when I heard that you had been staying here I simply wanted to come and see you again. You don’t mind, do you? It seems I’ve lost you before I was ever given a chance at winning your heart. You cannot deny me your friendship.”

Scarlet forced a smile. “I think that sounds fair. But I’m not sure when Sebastian will be back. It could be a while.”

“It’s just as well, I must be going soon. I’ve some rent to collect from my father’s tenants and I’ve only an hour or so. Would it be an imposition if I stayed and talked with you?”

Seeing no way out of this one, Scarlet agreed. Not knowing what exactly to talk about, she eyed his blade. “Will you show me a few things with your sword? I’ve always admired a man with his sword thrust forward in defense of his honor. It’s so romantic.”

“Being run through by your opponent’s blade is not romantic, my dear.” Francesco offered his hand and walked her to the center of the courtyard near the pink granite fountain. “But it would be a pleasure to show you some moves. Who knows, perhaps they may come in handy some day, should you find yourself in dire straits. There’s another sword hanging on the wall in the ballroom. Let me go and fetch it.”

He sauntered across the yard and Scarlet looked to the maze, wishing she’d gone in before Francesco found her.

“Here we are.” He handed her a sword with a fancy handle. The knuckle guard was of three strands of pounded silver braided together. On the pommel, the tip of the handle, there was a ruby encased in thinly-spun silver.

“I’ve chosen a lighter one for you. God knows these things were not invented for a woman to use, but you should have little difficulty handling this one.”

Scarlet took the sword. It was heavier than she expected, but no worse than brandishing a vacuum cleaner hose to clean the cobwebs from the top of her walls.

Francesco tucked his weapon under his arm and began to straighten her grip. “Hold it this way.” He turned the steel until the guard was over her knuckles and the base of the grip was pressed into her wrist. “There, that will protect you, since a cut to the hand will certainly end up in disarmament. And if you keep a good grip, not so stiff and tight,” he squeezed her hand “then you’ll have much better movement. Good. Let me see now, what shall I show you?”

Flexing her wrist, Scarlet played with the feel of the sword and slashed it through the air as Francesco pondered where to begin her education.

“If you will.” He handed his sword to her, then removed his coat, tossing it aside to the ground.

Retrieving his sword, Francesco’s hand rested on Scarlet’s for a moment longer than necessary. She looked away quickly.

“Sebastian and I have been friends forever, it seems. I love him and shall stand by him whenever duty calls, and I know he would do the same for me. Sebastian LeReaux is a good man and it pleases me to see that he has captured the heart of such a lovely and fascinating woman. If I had any less scruples I would take you in my arms and kiss you until you could no longer remember your betrothed’s name. But . . .”

“But?” Scarlet wondered if he would dare.

“But.” He smiled. “I am afraid that not even a woman of your beauty and charm is enough to entice me away from the trusting friendship I have earned of Sebastian LeReaux. I shall never let a woman come between the two of us and I know Sebastian feels the same.”

“Oh?” Knowing what she knew, Scarlet could offer only that. For, if she carried out her plan, eventually a woman
would
come between the two of them.

Should she stop it from happening? She could.

“Elisabeth?”

“Forgive me. I was thinking how nice it must be to have a friend like you. You are a good man, Francesco; don’t ever forget that. And please, remember your words. Never let a woman come between you and Sebastian. I would hate to see the two of you at each other’s throats over so petty a thing.”

He bowed and walked two paces away, turned grandly and bowed again. “I promise, mademoiselle. Anything to make you happy. Now! To begin, we must salute. It’s a formality that is required in all duels and sporting matches. You must pay the proper respect to your enemy, unless of course he dashes at you in attack.”

Following his example, Scarlet snapped her arm up at a right angle, bringing the hilt of the sword almost to her nose, and then slashing it away from her body. But as she lowered it, the tip slashed through her skirts. “Oh!”

“Are you all right?” Francesco dashed to her.

“I’m fine.” She examined the tear. Not so bad but the maids would hate her for the extra sewing. She pushed Francesco’s hand away and shook out her skirts. “Don’t worry, it’s a small tear. Just give me a few minutes to get used to handling one of these things.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t want Sebastian—”

“Francesco,” Scarlet pointed the tip of her blade his way and walked closer until it rested menacingly on the shoulder of his velvet frockcoat. “Why is it everyone around here assumes that I
belong
to Sebastian? His mother and father already have us married, and, no doubt, with children. Jacques has us moved in with my family, and Gregoire . . . well, he’s the only one who hasn’t bought a wedding gift yet, I presume. But even you?”

“I . . . I’m sorry, Elisabeth, I mean no offense.” He cautiously guided the tip of her sword away and she retreated, pointing it to the grass. “But I do know that Sebastian has proposed to you, has he not? And well, I’m sorry for making assumptions, but does that not mean—”

“No, Francesco, that does not
mean
anything.” She began to pace, slicing off the tops of helpless blades of grass.

“You’re not going to break his heart, are you?”

She turned to stare into the most concerned and loving blue eyes she’d ever seen. And she knew that in breaking Sebastian’s heart she would also be breaking Francesco’s.
Things are getting more complicated all the time.
She was no longer in the mood for fencing.

“You said you have rent to collect somewhere?”

“Mmm, yes, I suppose you are right. I should be going. But will I have the opportunity to continue your lessons at a future date?”

Meaning, you are going to marry Sebastian, aren't you? You wouldn’t break his heart by saying no.

“
I hope so, Francesco. I do love Sebastian very much.”

He smiled but Scarlet could see that he’d seen the trace of uncertainty in her heart. But what could she do? Lie, and tell him that all was going to be well? It was becoming harder to know what to say anymore. The question of whether or not she had the right to alter history was growing larger by the minute. She wished Sebastian would return soon.

“I’ll see myself out, then.” He grabbed his coat. “Until next time, Elisabeth Montrose. Say hello to Sebastian for me, will you?”

Francesco turned and strutted across the yard.

“I have a feeling next time will be a lot later than you think,” she whispered as he disappeared.

***

Supper came and went with no sign of Sebastian. Jacques returned home with a note from him, which he had Angelique deliver. Sebastian sent apologies, but while in town he had heard that the Vicomte Remond had taken ill and he had stopped by, offering to sit with him until he fell asleep.

Scarlet looked to Angelique for explanation.

“Vicomte Remond has been instrumental in Sebastian’s musical education. He bought him a guitar for his twelfth birthday and has procured lessons for him ever since. Roland doesn’t like it, but Sebastian sneaks out to the vicomte’s once a week. The poor man, I hope he recovers.”

“Do you think he’ll be back tonight?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Would you like me to send him up when he arrives?”

“That would be good of you, Angelique. We have some things to talk about.” She sighed and walked to the window.

“Don’t worry, child. Bastian won’t keep you waiting any longer than necessary. I’ll send Annalise up with some hot chocolate spiced with cinnamon.” Angelique closed the door.

Scarlet looked down at the white dress that she’d worn the first night she’d met Sebastian and spread her hands over the smooth silk. The tiny pearls were the same color as the moon and she realized now that it had been almost two weeks since her transformation. Could she remember everything that needed to be done? It was imperative that all was done correctly. Or else . . . Sebastian would die.

***

Sebastian flicked the light switch on and stood before the bathroom mirror.

“Will I see this face, this aged old vampire, in the morning when I wake? Or will I cense to exist and crumble to dust before the night is through?”

He pulled his hair into a thick bundle and flipped it over his shoulder. Examining his reflection he tried to see the changes the centuries had made. His forehead was still unlined and smooth and his cheeks taut and firm. But the eyes, yes, they had changed. What were once dark brown, with flecks of vibrant gold now were black. Black as lies, dark as the centuries’ sufferings.

The years had hardened him and taken the compassion from his eyes. He felt he was still able to soften them and let Scarlet see only the gentleness. But he knew that without her they would soon become the devil’s eyes.

“I love you, ma cherie," he whispered.

Even if she didn't prolong his existence with her fateful bite, at least she would still have her life
. For he figured that if she didn’t bite him, she would, hopefully, return to the future, since he would have never existed to meet her. And that was all that mattered to him. If Scarlet was spared and returned to her brother, he would sacrifice his life for hers.

With a flick of his hand, the bathroom went dark and he padded into the bedroom, pausing by the window to watch the clouds pass over the surface of the half moon.

He remembered rushing home that night after the vicomte’s fever had broken. Elisabeth—or rather Scarlet—had been waiting for him with her answer.

He knew now why his proposal had been refused. Whether or not she transformed him, she would return to the present. But would she marry him now? If she ever returned to him, would she take his hand in marriage?

“Will you love me now, Scarlet?”

He walked over to the closet, and without turning on the interior light, felt along the edge of a shelf at the top of the wall. His fingers fumbled over stacks of rock n’ roll magazines and piles of folded pants and shirts, and found a gilt-edged black box. He pulled it down. Standing in the arch between the closet and his room he plucked out the souvenir that he’d saved for his vampire lifetime.

The dry brittle petals of a rose, once white, now grayed with time, crackled in his fingers. He'd cut the withered stem down but one shriveled thorn remained. It was stained dark brown.