The King's Vampire (7 page)

“Both beauty and charm?” she said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Are you sure I should do this while Darius is still missing?”

“He’s not actually missing. We just don’t know where he is right now. You have to do everything you can to protect the kingdom from the psychic vampire demons. That’s what we must focus on.”

She lowered her eyes. “Very well, I’ll be at the reception tonight, but if you hear from Darius, promise you’ll let me know.”

“You’ll be the first to hear.” Amelia leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks, and whispered, “Remember, love is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not in love with him?” Maybe if she spoke the words enough times, it would come true.

Her friend raised her hands in defeat. “All right, fine. You don’t love him. Just make sure you come to our reception tonight.”

Once left alone, Elizabeth started pacing again. What had Amelia been talking about? Of course she didn’t love Darius. She respected the man, she admired him, but love? They had been friends for one hundred years, but that was an entirely different matter. She paused in the middle of her pacing. Or was it? What if Amelia was right? What if she did truly love him?

Ever since she’d given him her blood, something had been growing between them. She shoved the thought from her mind. What good would it do if she loved him? She had no soul, and if she had no soul to give, what was the purpose of love? Loving him was a mistake she couldn’t afford to make.

She kept the draperies pulled tight against the fading sunlight, shuffling through her gowns, trying to decide what to wear to the king’s reception. She found it a sorry distraction, and couldn’t stop thinking of Darius. The musky scent of his skin, the feel of his muscled body pressed up against hers, and the honeyed taste of his lips on hers was impressed upon her mind. What would she do without him?

Finally, nine o’clock arrived. She wore a long-trained gown made of black velvet with a silver lace covering it, with diamonds glittering from her throat and arms. The coach delivered her to the courtyard of Denham House, where the large estate ran through the palace grounds. Amelia’s linkmen held torches and led her up the sweeping stone staircase.

Amelia and John stood in the antechamber, greeting their guests. When Elizabeth entered, Amelia grasped her hand and John announced her as her Ladyship, the Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull.

“You are my unmarried cousin from Kingston. None of that side of the family ever troubles to come to court, so you are safe,” Amelia said softly.

She nodded and stepped into their sumptuous drawing room, which was hung with draperies of gold velvet, dozens of candles burned in the gold-leafed wall-sconces, and chandeliers dripped thousands of crystal prisms from the frescoed ceiling. The sound of laughter and music assaulted her ears, and she was quickly surrounded by the hum of laughing ladies and courtly gentlemen.

Once Amelia finished her welcoming duties, she took Elizabeth by the hand and led her toward Charles, who already sat at a card table holding a dice-box he was just prepared to throw. When he looked at Amelia and Elizabeth standing across the table from him, he set down the box, speaking to Buckingham, who stood behind him, “Here, George, you take my place. I’m never good at dice, and besides, with my tight-fisted Parliament, I can ill-afford to lose.”

Laughter rippled across the room from the ladies and courtiers who had heard the king’s quip. He strolled out onto the balcony with the two women. “Well now, Amelia, how is it you’ve been hiding this beautiful creature away from your beloved monarch?” His dark eyes snapped with passion and good humor, scrutinizing Elizabeth with an intensity that startled her.

“Your Majesty, may I introduce you to my cousin, Elizabeth Curran, Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull?”

She made a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty, it’s a great honor to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Your Ladyship.” He offered Elizabeth his arm and nodded in Amelia’s direction. “Do you mind if I dance with your lovely cousin?”

Amelia curtsied and smiled gleefully at Elizabeth as Charles escorted her away to join those preparing for the next dance.

Even though wild with worry about Darius, Elizabeth felt impressed by the king’s elegant manners. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an auburn-haired woman, who looked like an older version of herself, glaring at them when the king led her to the head of the line of dancers. The merry and rollicking music of the quartet playing in the corner rolled through the room.

They took a few steps forward and then a few steps back. Charles looked down at her and smiled, his white teeth gleamed beneath his mustache. “What is your opinion of our court at Whitehall? Do you think it’s the decadent pit of sin as so many visitors have described it?”

“What a strange question to ask me, Your Majesty.” Elizabeth glanced around briefly. “I’ve only just arrived from the country, but if your court is anything like the people here at the Duke and Duchesses’ home, it must be a place where people have lovely manners and know how to have a good time.”

The king glanced out over the crowd. “Yes. They have a wonderful time, but usually at my expense,” he said, bitterness hardening his tone. Then he threw back his head and gave a booming laugh. “Your skin must have been carved from alabaster, and you have the most beautiful eyes, purest violet amethysts. I’ve not seen eyes like yours before except for . . .”

They had reached the part of the dance where they had to part and walk down opposite sides of the room, so he didn’t complete his sentence. They met up again with a few brief steps before the dance came to a close.

He escorted her out onto the terrace where water rippled from the stone fountains, creating a lulling melody. “Are you married, my dear?”

After the briefest hesitation, she answered, “No. I’m not married, Sire.”

He raised his black eyebrows. “Not married? How old are you? You must be at least twenty, and still not married? The men in the countryside must all be knaves and fools.”

Elizabeth couldn’t hide the smile that came to her lips. What would the king think if she told him she was over one hundred years old? “I suppose I just haven’t found the right man to marry.”

“I love the way the moonlight captures the translucence of your skin. It’s as if the moonlight, and not blood, pulses through your veins.” He moved closer, and she stepped away. “Come and live at Whitehall,” he murmured. “There are empty apartments not far from my bedchamber. You’d be most comfortable.”

Having been prepared for the proposal by Amelia and Darius, Elizabeth gave the king a mischievous look and an impertinent laugh. “I’m sure I’d be quite comfortable, but exactly what would my position be at court?”

He looked quite taken aback by her question. He stammered, “You could be a lady of my wife’s bedchamber.”

“Would that be my only duty?” She gave him a direct look.

A flush crept up King Charles’s face. “You’re very honest, aren’t you?” He cleared his throat. “There might be other duties, but only those you wished to perform.”

“What if I was perfectly honest with your Majesty, and told you that I don’t ever intend to lay with you?”

“Well, I can’t deny that would be a most unusual and unexpected answer.”

“Which is unexpected? That I’m being honest with you, Your Majesty, or that I don’t intend to lay with you?”

This time the king gave a roaring boom of laughter. “Both incidents are quite peculiar for me. At my court, no one is ever honest, and no woman has ever refused me sexual favors for very long. People generally tell me what they think I want to hear, and I have to admit I’m generally happy they do.” He stroked the side of her face. “It might be refreshing to have someone around who would speak to me honestly. I’d love to be able to gaze upon your lovely face every day, even if it was just as friends.”

The woman who resembled Elizabeth came rushing over. Her beauty appeared elemental as fire and ice. Her auburn hair fell in rippling waves around her shoulders and down her back, while her complexion, nearly pale as Elizabeth’s, had a glint of apricot in her cheeks, and her lavender eyes glimmered in the candlelight.

“Your Majesty, you haven’t danced with me once this evening and it grows late.” The woman’s lower lip pushed out into a sulk, even as her eyes glowed with passion.

The king’s jaw clenched and he frowned at the woman whose eyes were almost level with his. “Let me introduce you to Elizabeth Curran, Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull. And this, Your Ladyship, is Barbara Palmer, Countess of Castlemaine.

The two women made cool curtsies, barely acknowledging one another with the slightest of nods.

After the awkward introduction, Barbara said, “Sire, have you forgotten you promised me this dance?”

With a barely suppressed sigh, King Charles bowed to Elizabeth before he said to Castlemaine, “Whatever you wish, Barbara.” Then he turned to Elizabeth once again. “Please consider the matter I’ve suggested. If you agree, you’ll be contacted by a member of my staff to make suitable arrangements.” He took her hand and kissed it before bowing and walking away with Barbara Palmer, who glanced over her shoulder, and gave Elizabeth a triumphant wave.

Unconcerned with Barbara Palmer’s perceived triumph, Elizabeth wandered around the party, feeling out-of-place and forsaken among the crowd of strangers. When she went in search of Amelia, anxious to discover if she’d heard anything from Darius, all the guests were gathering up their cloaks and belongings and ushered to their carriages. Elizabeth idly watched the servants cleaning up, feeling as relieved as they must feel that the evening had ended.

Amelia walked over, took her by the hand, and gave it a squeeze. “How did you like Charles? What did you and he talk about all that time on the terrace? Do you think he liked you?”

The two women stood in the middle of the parlor, while the servants skirted around them, carrying stacks of plates and wine goblets back to the kitchen. One maid industriously swept up nutshells and fruit peelings from the floor.

Elizabeth waved her question away. “Never mind about Charles, have you heard from Darius?”

Amelia’s expression drooped. “No word yet, but don’t give up hope. John’s out searching again.” She turned to the servants. “Oh, do stop bothering with all that cleaning tonight. You can finish the rest tomorrow.”

They didn’t wait to be told twice. “Yes, Your Grace,” one servant said, and they all quickly disappeared.

When Elizabeth and Amelia were alone again, Amelia leaned forward. “Tell me what the king said.”

“He’s handsome and charming, and he asked me to move into an apartment at Whitehall.”

“Are you serious?” Amelia squealed like a young girl. “If he asked you so soon, he must be totally infatuated with you. What did you say? How did you answer him?”

Tired and discouraged, she frowned. “What are we to do about Darius?”

“Don’t worry. John will find him. What did you say to King Charles?”

“I didn’t have the opportunity to answer him. We were interrupted by the Countess of Castlemaine. She didn’t seem pleased with our friendship.”

Amelia wrinkled up her nose. “I wouldn’t give a fig for what she thinks. Barbara Palmer is as jealous as a barren wife, even though being barren isn’t a big problem for her. I think she’s already given the king at least four illegitimate children. She’s rather like a brood mare. It’s only the king’s wife, Catherine of Braganza, who’s barren, poor thing.”

Refusing to be distracted by idle gossip, Elizabeth repeated, “Is John still searching for Darius?”

“Yes, I told you. He’ll search until just before daybreak. But tell me, what else did the king say? Was he as charming to you as he is to everyone?”

“Charles offered me an appointment as a lady of his wife’s bedchamber. I don’t know how much charm was involved. I suspect it was more self-interest. I wonder what the queen would think if she found out he wanted to sleep with me.”

“Oh Elizabeth, don’t you suppose she must be used to his mistresses by now? She has to know about them unless she’s been locked in the wine cellar all this time. The court of Charles II is a scandal throughout England, and believe me, it wouldn’t be affected one way or another if you did choose to become his mistress.”

She fisted her hands and placed them on her hips. “I have no intention of becoming the king’s mistress. What do you take me for? Thank you for everything, but I had better go now.”

“I’m sorry.” Amelia placed a hand on her arm. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Besides, I know you’re in love with Darius. You don’t kiss a man the way you did in St. Paul’s unless you’re mad about him.”

Even though Elizabeth realized her friend was teasing, she still felt a flare of guilty anger. Her chin jutted forward. “How I feel about Darius isn’t the issue right now. Where, in the name of God, is he? That’s the question. The king’s an amiable, charming man, but I never plan on sleeping with him.”

Amelia slipped an arm around her. “I wasn’t trying to be heartless, but I wanted to get your mind off Darius. It’s already well-past midnight. Why don’t you stay here tonight with me? John will bring us word if he finds out anything.”

“No. I want to be at the inn in case there’s word of him there. Some of the vampires in the community might have heard something, and I want to be near in case they have news. Could you please send for my coach?”

“Yes, yes, darling, I’ll do that straight away.” She rang the bell for the coachman.

On the way home, a raw thirst and hunger ripped through her gut, she’d forgotten to feed. Elizabeth rapped sharply on the window and motioned for the coachman to stop. He stepped down from his perch, and opened the door of the carriage. Ignoring his owleyed look, she climbed down the iron steps without waiting for assistance. Unwilling to speak, she motioned for him to drive away, disappearing down the street before he had a chance to leave.

Pulling the hood of her cloak over her head, she put on her mask before crossing the bridge over Fleet Street, moving with the rapidity only vampires achieved. On the other side of the river, she blended in with night shadows while following a cat down a winding alleyway.