Chapter 4

 

Bennett arrived at promptly in their family house in Mayfair at one o’clock in the afternoon. Mesmerized, Emma remained rooted to the cushions of her settee as he strode into the parlor. He swept off his hat, revealing his shining black hair, and removed a pair of spectacles that had been darkened as if he’d held them over a fire and gotten them sooty. He glanced about the room before his gaze landed on her, sending her nerves into a tingling frenzy.

Her mouth dried. Good thing she was already sitting or surely her knees would weaken. How was it possible he was even more handsome than last night?

It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t let him hurt her or turn her into an evil being.

Although, the though of spending eternity with him…

No. She mustn’t think of that.

Bennett greeted Mama, affecting a courtly bow, and exchanged a few pleasantries with her and some of the other guests. A moment later, he made his way to Emma. He took a seat next to her on the settee and looked at her as if she were the only person in the room. “How’s the ankle?”

His nearness emptied her mind of all coherent thought. “My ankle?” she repeated.

He gestured to her feet resting on a footstool. “The one you twisted last night?”

She let out a weak laugh. “Oh, that ankle. Still sore, I’m afraid.”

He nodded. “I’d planned to invite you to go riding with me, but it looks as though we’ll need to wait until your ankle heals.”

“Riding?”

In the daytime? How much sunlight could he take? Even with his darkened glasses, surely not much. Just how powerful was he? Or perhaps the belief that sunlight burned a vampire’s skin was false.

His dark gaze penetrated her eyes straight into her soul. “You wouldn’t mind being seen with me, would you?”

“Seen with you?”

He smiled. “Any particular reason why you’re repeating everything I ask you?”

“Ah…” No, no particular reason, except she was so confused. She loved and trusted the old Bennett. And she loved this new dark Bennett. But could she give him her trust?

She drew a breath and took herself in hand. “Forgive me. My injured ankle appears to have had some effect on my wit. No, of course I don’t mind being seen with you. I would love to go riding with you when I’m able.” Perhaps if she went riding with him, she could decide what must be done.

Bennett listened, watching her intently, as if he would rather do nothing else. She’d always loved that about him.

“We could ride by carriage instead of horseback,” he said. “I have a new team I’d like to show you. I assume you’re still horse-mad?”

She smiled and tossed her head saucily. “I am, and my father still refuses to take me to Tattersalls.”

He frowned. “Certainly not. No place for a lady.”

“He allows me to go with him from time to time when he attends auctions in Ireland.”

“I suppose that can be overlooked, even by a sophisticated gentleman as I.” A self-deprecating smile touched his mouth.

“How fortunate for me,” she said dryly.

They shared a smile, and for a moment, all thoughts of his being a vampire evaporated in his sheer masculine presence. Her heart thudded erratically and she couldn’t drag her gaze off his mouth. She’d shared stolen kisses with other men, but never him—not even when she’d pledged herself to him. What would it be like to kiss Bennett? Would he be smooth as silk? Forceful, even rough? Or would he be infinitely gentle?

“Are you well, Em?”

“Hmmm?”

“You look a little flushed.”

“Ah…” She cleared her throat and finally managed to put her attention back onto his eyes. They were still as dark as onyx, even more mysterious than ever. She swallowed. “I’m too close to the fire. Mama is convinced if I leave the hearth, I’ll catch a chill.”

A black brow rose. “She equates a twisted ankle with an illness?”

She smiled. “Apparently so.”

“A pity. That may complicate our plans to go for a drive.” And in an exaggeratedly serious tone, he said, “Do you think she’ll allow you to leave the house so sorely stricken?”

She chuckled. “It has been an uncommonly cold Spring. However, if you ply your charm on her, I think she may relent and allow me out.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “I promise to keep you well bundled so you don’t catch a chill.”

In the same overly grave tone, she replied, “You are most chivalrous, sir.”

He was chivalrous, and concerned, and gentle—everything that she loved about him before was still there. Was it possible to for him to be a vampire and yet be the same man? Nothing about him seemed ruthless or evil.

“You’re very far away,” he said softly.

She looked up at him, longing to trace the contours of his face. “I have much on my mind.”

“Tell me.”

She couldn’t very well discuss his secret. What to say? She seized the first thought that came to her. “You mentioned an illness. I assume you are feeling better? ”

“I am. It was a long recovery, but I am much better.”

Why better? Did he enjoy his new existence? A million other questions flooded her mind, but nothing she could voice. His gaze remained fixed on her in his usual intense way. She moistened her lips. “Er…it’s been a long time since we’ve conversed in person.”

“It has. Too long.”

“Your letters were few and far apart.”

Sorrow darkened his eyes. “I wish I could have written more often. But yours were a welcome contact with home. With you.”

She examined her fingers. “I had to keep my letters fairly impersonal because my father had only given me permission to write to you if I kept to safe topics such as local happenings and on dits.”

“I know. It would have been inappropriate to do otherwise. I couldn’t tell you how much your letters meant to me, or that I hoped you’d still be here when I got back.”

“There was never any danger of me not being here when you got back.” She had to look away lest he see the tears in her eyes. She was here, but Bennett—the real Bennett—hadn’t returned. Would never return “You are different.” She snuck a glance at him to judge his reaction.

He froze, those black eyes searching hers. “Am I?”

Losing courage, she stuck to a safe explanation. “I wondered if you’d return home from the war a bit rough, but if anything, you’re more refined, more…confident.”

A haunted expression flitted across his face and settled into his eyes. She sucked in her breath at the apparent agonizing turmoil trapped inside him.

He looked away. “I am different. I saw things—did things—in battle that I’d never dreamed I’d do. I doubt you’d view any of them as refining. Last week was the first time I’d stepped foot in a drawing room in four years.”

She touched his sleeve, aching to soothe his pain, and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Bennett.”

He glanced away and shielded his hurt. “Yes, well, I didn’t come here to cry on your shoulder.”

She withdrew her hand, feeling decidedly shut out. “We’ve known each other a long time. You can be honest with me. You can tell me anything.”

His mouth twisted into a humorless smile. “You’re very kind, but I wouldn’t burden you with my woes.”

“It’s what a friend would do.”

He gaze fixed hard upon her. “Are we friends, Em?”

Could she be friends with a vampire? She must at least pretend to be until she decided what to do with her knowledge. “Certainly we are.”

“Only friends? Nothing else?”

She clasped her hands so tightly that they started to hurt. Was he asking her permission to court her? Did she dare? He watched her with such dreadful hope that her resistance dissolved. “I haven’t placed a limit on our relationship, or its potential.”

Warmth seeped into his expression until he grinned. “That’s what I hoped to hear.” He paused. “I hear you received two marriage proposals.”

She nodded slowly. “Neither of them were from you.”

There. She’s said it. His would be the next move. Then perhaps she would know what to do.

“You give me hope.” He smiled, promise shining in his eyes. He leaned forward as if to say more. Instead, he glanced at her mother. With a wry smile twisting his mouth, he looked at his pocket watch. “If I’m to impress your mother, I must be careful not to overstay my visit, lest she think me uncouth.” He stood and offered a brief, proper bow. “And now, with your permission, I shall endeavor to convince your protective mama to allow you to have an outing with me tomorrow.”

She returned his smile, nearly speechless at the beauty of it. “Please do.”

“Till tomorrow then.”

“I look forward to it.”

He awarded her another lovely smile and turned to seek out Mama. They shared a brief conversation, with Mama only looking Emma’s way three times. Finally, Mama’s shoulders relaxed and she nodded, smiling. Bennett strode to the door. At the doorway, he turned, gave her another blinding smile, and left.

Emma leaned back against the cushions, smiling dreamily, her head filled with visions of Bennett’s handsome face, his winning smile, the sign that he needed her to shine light into those dark places left by war and hardship. She couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

A form crossed in front of her line of sight and someone plopped down in the cushions next to her.

Will leaned in. “I take it you’ve overcome whatever aversion you had for Bennett Ashton?”

“Hmmm?” As she focused on Will’s face, clarity rushed back. “I…” she looked away, biting her lip. “I can’t seem to help myself. I do care for him.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“He…”

How to say it? Dare she say it? Will and Bennett were friends. No doubt Will would take exception to her suspicion. Even if he’d seen the signs of what Bennett had become, his friendship could have blinded him to the truth. A rush of emotion closed over her throat and filled her eyes with tears. How cruel was fate to have brought home the only man she’d ever loved, and then hold him forever out of reach...unless she’d be willing to embrace the darkness with him and become one of the living dead.

“Em?” He covered her hand with his warm palm. Warm, not cold like Bennett’s.

In a strangled whisper she said, “He’s changed.”

“He’s the same in all the ways that matter.”

“More than that. Much more than that.”

“Tell me.”

Very well. She’d tell him and come what may. She stood and drew a steadying breath. “Walk with me?”

Will stood and offered his arm. As they slowly walked the perimeter of the room, Will matching his pace to match Emma’s, she tried to organize her thoughts but failed miserably.

“You’re limping,” Will said. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my ankle.”

“Here then.” He guided her to a settee underneath a large window overlooking the garden.

The other callers’ voices rose and fell, underscored by laughter and the rustling of clothing and feet. Mama’s trilling laughter wove in through it all. In a low voice no one else would overhear, she spilled out the whole story in broken fragments and out of order. Will listened without comment until she’d finished.

She took his offered handkerchief and wiped an errant tear. “But now I’m so confused because he really hasn’t changed that much but yet he’s changed in the most awful way, but I still love him and it hurts me deeply.” She ended on a sob that she muffled with the handkerchief.

His voice was incredulous. “You honestly believe this, don’t you?”

The roughness in his voice might have been his attempt to quell his laughter, or anger, or disbelief. She couldn’t be certain. If she’d been able to see through her tears, she would have known by his expression. “After everything I’ve told you, how can you not?”

“Because he’s a friend and I won’t believe the worst of him because of a few strange events.”

As tears streamed down her cheeks, she turned toward a window and pretended to admire the view of the gardens so others in the room wouldn’t see. “I don’t want to believe it, either. Truly I don’t.”

“Look, as much as it pains me to see how much you still love him, I won’t encourage this mad fantasy you’ve created about him.”

“Pains you? Why would it pain you?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Because, my dear, you appear to be completely blind to that fact that I’ve loved you even longer than you’ve loved him.”

Speechless, she could only stare.

Will’s mouth twisted into a humorless smile.

She shook her head slowly. “I…I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I vowed I’d wait until Ashton came home from the war to give him a chance. It seemed only fair, considering the sacrifices he made to serve king and country.”

“Oh, Will…”

“So as much as I’d love to prey on your lovably over-active imagination and beg you to marry me rather than the dreadful vampire, I refuse to win you in that manner. The question is; what are you going to do?”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know. I can’t bear to see him harmed. But I also cannot stand by and allow him to hurt others, even if he needs it to survive.”

Will waited.

Emma bit her lip, trying to think. “Perhaps he could go away, somewhere safe?”

But where would he go? People whose blood he needed would never be safe, and he’d always risk detection, a mob, a stake through the heart.

Shuddering, Emma pressed her hands over her face. “This is all so complicated. And what if he wants to feed on me? Or transform me?”

“What if he does?”

Tears began anew. “I don’t know. I can’t be one of them.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Heaven help me, I do.”

He stared out the window. “Then the choice should be easy. Place your heart in his hands and trust him.”

She sniffed. “I had no idea you were such a romantic.”

“For all the good it’s doing me,” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry, Will. Truly.” She placed a hand on his arm.

He remained rigid, staring out. “I know.” Finally, he turned to her. “Be happy, Emma. And consider carefully. He’s suffered much. He deserves happiness, and he believes only you can help him find it.” He kissed the back of her hand over her glove and strode away with his head high.

Her thoughts trailed after him a few moments, turning over what might have been. Immediately they returned to Bennett. If he truly wanted her, he might do one of three things: marry her and protect her from himself; lose control some night and feed off her; or worse, transform her into a vampire. A myth she’d read in the lending library on folklore suggested some vampires could feed off of humans without killing them, but other myths said vampires always drained their victims, resulting in death.

Had Bennett changed so much that he’d do that to her?

She replayed their time together in the garden, and then today when he called. Nothing about him suggested any evil intentions. He seemed a more sober version of the Bennett she’d always known and loved, still as thoughtful and gentle as ever.

Will was right. If she loved Bennett, she must also trust him. Love was meaningless without trust.