Banner by Vampkiss
Banner
by Vampkiss
Chapter 17
Elizabeth spent most of the early evening in the company of
the Duke’s daughter, Celeste. She was glad she’d come even if her heart wasn’t
really into having fun. After hearing the gossip of her guardian’s forthcoming
wedding, she wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball on her bed and cry
herself to sleep. The earl’s absence the day before just made hearing the news
even that much harder to bear. She wished he was here so that he could tell her
it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t planning on marrying some nameless chit of
exceptional breeding and beauty.
It wasn’t like he was going to marry her, the unwanted ward of modest nobility.
He’d not even wanted to be her guardian, was only persuaded by the Viscount when
she’d found herself alone and away from her family.
Her family.
Maybe he’d found them, and now free from his burden, could busy himself with
getting on with his life. Who knew, after today, she’d probably no longer be
staying at his home. No longer need the vampire chaperone he’d provided.
After the recent revelation that vampires walked among the ton like ordinary
creatures, she didn’t think she’d be able to stay in London. Maybe her parents
would swoop in, reclaim their daughter whilst thanking the earl for his
generosity, and then whisk her away, back to the countryside where she felt most
comfortable.
True, she’d made several friends her – all with lineage much more noble than
hers – but she couldn’t face seeing them again and perchance running into her
guardian and his soon-to-be wife at the functions they’d both, no doubt, receive
invitations to.
Better to go back to her safe world. In the country. Away from the fast-paced
city that boasted of vampires in its midst.
Elizabeth gasped in sudden dismay as the bite mark on her neck erupted with
invisible tingles, then nearly staggered as a wave of rage washed over her small
frame. Unlike the unconscious calling the earl had sent before, this feeling –
this overwhelming anger – seemed generated towards her. She needed to find her
chaperone and make her apologies; she needed to get home.
Home.
Why was it that that was the term that sprang to mind? The earl’s townhouse
wasn’t her home; it was just a temporary arrangement until her parents were
located. If she didn’t start remembering that then she was going to be
distraught when she finally did go home.
~*~
Mrs. Rothworth took one look at her charge as she
approached and knew immediately that there was something wrong. Making her
excuses to her host, she called for their cloaks and settled the trembling girl
in the carriage that made haste back to the earl’s townhouse.
Thankfully, the roads were fairly deserted and the two pulled up not ten minutes
after exiting the Duke’s residence.
As they stepped down, Elizabeth clung to her chaperone, feeling decidedly
weak-kneed at the feelings of rage running rampant throughout her body.
“What’s happening to me?” she whimpered to the vampiress, barely able to support
her own weight. “I can feel him…he’s so angry.”
“It’s my fault, child, and I’ll take the brunt of his anger from you. After all,
it was I that decided to accept the invitation, so I’ll be the one to bear the
consequences.”
The elder woman’s hand reached over to brush a soothing touch across her
charge’s cheek. She’d let the status of being this claimed girl’s chaperone get
to her and now she’d have to face whatever punishment the master vampire deemed
fit. And, if the trembling girl’s drawn features were any indication, angry
didn’t even begin to describe the earl’s temperament.
As the two stepped inside, the vampiress was proven right. The earl was standing
alone near the end of the entryway. The place was deserted of servants –
probably advised by the former to make themselves scarce. The vacant room wasn’t
the indication of his mood, however. It was the vamped features and the coiled
tension that permeated the other’s countenance that gave his true feelings away.
Leaning down, Mrs. Rothworth shooed her charge off to her room with instructions
to have her maid prepare her for bed. She just prayed whatever rage the male
vampire was exhibiting diminished before he sought out the girl.
Amber eyes followed the Slayer’s retreat until she’d reached the top of the
staircase and disappeared from sight. Then, they locked on her, and the
vampiress suppressed the shiver of fear that had suddenly gripped her body. The
demon in her quaked in apprehension as the blonde-headed vampire pushed himself
away from the wall with a lazy grace and slowly stalked towards her.
As soon as he reached her, his arm shot out and gripped her neck, easily lifting
her several feet in the air.
“This must be the Slayer’s chaperone,” a voice drolled from behind them.
“Bloody hell, Doyle, not now,” Spike growled, eyes never leaving the frightened
facial features of the vampiress held suspended from his grasp.
“Slayer?” the woman gasped.
“Figure of speech. Bloke’s a Bracken demon and they think they’re bloody
comedians. Havin’ a spot ‘o fun at my expense,” he replied, referring to the
wedding he and the Slayer were soon to be having. He shook off his demonic
features, blue eyes narrowing on the vampiress as he set her back on her feet
and removed his hand from her neck while speaking over his shoulder to Doyle.
“Tell the lady here what a kidder you are.”
Doyle, realizing his blunder, straightened away from the study’s doorjamb as the
two vampires made their way towards him to afford the threesome more privacy as
they spoke.
“Lord Frances Doyle, Viscount Tellidyne,” he announced by way of introduction.
“And, he’s right… although, I am known the world over for my comedic value, I’ll
have you know. So, where is the chit?” the half-breed asked as he settled
himself in a chair in front of Spike’s desk next to the vampiress while Spike
walked around and sat behind his desk.
“Upstairs…” Spike growled.
“In bed, probably crying her eyes out…” Mrs. Rothworth replied honestly.
The two vampires spoke at once.
“This keeps getting better and better,” Doyle responded after a quick glance at
the blond-headed vampire. “Whatever has happened to distress the girl so?”
Spike saw the demon’s look and snorted.
“Don’t look at me. I haven’t seen her in two days. Remember? And, you should
know since you were with me.”
The two males glanced at the vampiress – causing her to squirm uncomfortably in
her seat – waiting for her to respond.
“We had a small intimate gathering here, earlier today. Just a few acquaintances
from Lady Atherton’s tea party. Unfortunately, the topic of discussion didn’t
center around gowns and the Duke of Sevring’s forthcoming ball. Instead, the
tale that made its way around the room was the Earl’s forthcoming nuptials.”
She paused at the master vampire’s “bloody hell” followed shortly by the other
demon’s laughter.
~*~*~*~*~
“’S not funny,” Spike muttered as he glared at the half-breed, who didn’t look
like he was going to wind down anytime soon. With a look of disgust at the other
man, he excused the vampiress to seek her dinner.
Mrs. Rothworth made haste leaving the master vampire’s study, not wanting to
call attention to her disobedience of earlier. She thought she was in the clear
until the vampire’s words halted her hand upon the doorknob.
“Disobey me again like that, and your back will forever be bathed in red,” Spike
promised softly, yet the calm way with which the words were spoken brought
chills to her spine.
She looked over her shoulder, nodding, before quickly departing the room.
“Would you really?” Doyle asked him, sobering from his amusement.
“Bloody well right I would! Can’t have these younger vamps thinking they can be
disobedient to a master vampire. I’m cutting her a little slack because I don’t
want to fuck up my chances of getting home. But, if we were back in my time,
she’d be dust right now for what she pulled.”
Just thinking about the vampiress’ blatant disregard for his orders had Spike
fuming again – so much so, that he almost got up and went after her. But, the
news that the Slayer was aware of his impending marriage didn’t sit well with
him.
Mrs. Rothworth was right. She was upstairs crying her eyes out. Had been for the
last hour they’d been talking. A small part of him wanted to rush upstairs and
comfort the girl, reassure her that it was she he planned to marry.
Which was exactly why he didn’t move.
He didn’t like the direction these feelings of his were taking. She was a means
to an end, and if he had to constantly remind himself of that fact, so be it.
‘I’ll not cater to the Slayer’s emotions like some poncey git my poof of a
grandsire turned out to be.’
Instead, he sat with Doyle in his study, playing poker and making plans.
~*~*~*~*~
Upstairs, Elizabeth wept softly as the finality of the earl’s marriage hit her.
She’d stayed awake, believing he’d come to her, reassuring her that the rumors
were just that – rumors. That he was going to keep her like he’d said. But as
the lateness of the night progressed with no sign of her vampire, the last
thread of hope snapped, causing her to fall towards an uncertain future.
Heart broken, she cried herself to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~
In the study, Spike sat back, the tension releasing from his tightly coiled
body, when he finally heard the Slayer’s cries stop as she slipped into a deep
slumber. Unable to concentrate on the card game he was playing with Doyle with
the girl’s ragged weeping, he’d steadily lost money until he’d just about
stomped away from the table in frustration.
Doyle, the bloody bastard, had just taken advantage of him – even bluffing with
a pair of twos when he himself sported a flush. At that point, Spike was well
and truly ready to eat the half-breed.
“Finally go to sleep?” Doyle asked, sensing the vampire relax back into his
seat.
Spike growled a response, at which the other laughed heartily.
“Face it, Spike. You’re starting to care about the girl.”
“’M not. And, take that back right now!”
“Ya know, now that I think about it, I think the Powers were right all along.
They’ve got you pegged. Maybe you were meant to slip back in time, for reasons
unknown. Maybe that’s why you cornered the Slayer when you did. Did you ever
think of that?”
“No, and if you want to keep your head on your shoulders, you’ll drop it.”
“Fine. I’m just sayin…”
“Well, don’t.”
They stayed in the study playing cards until late into the night, neither
wanting to brave the club – Spike, because of the apparent leak in his
forthcoming marriage; Doyle, because without Spike with him, he really didn’t
want to venture out alone. When the half-breed began yawning into his cards in
the early morning hours, Spike called a halt to their play and sent the other
off to bed.
Still locked within his private space, Spike walked around the room for a bit,
trying to work off some nervous energy – warring with himself about whether or
not to go upstairs. He scanned the rows of books hoping for something to catch
his eye and take his mind off the slumbering girl resting a floor above him.
Doyle’s words played over in his mind, and he refused to give credence to the
half-breeds hypothesis by going upstairs.
Because if he climbed the staircase, he wouldn’t be going to his room…he’d be
going to hers.
So he paced the confines of his self-enforced prison, back and forth like the
kept lion that prowls the length of his cage – desperate not to give in to his
need to see her. His demonic countenance faded in and out as he debated the
situation, until with a growl he vaulted over the chair that happened to be in
his path on his way to the door.
Spike practically ripped the door off the hinges in his haste to exit the room.
A burst of speed saw him to the base of the staircase and his eyes lifted upward
as if he could see her from where he stood.
“Face it, Spike. You’re starting to care about the girl.”
Doyle’s words taunted him.
With a savage snarl, he whirled away from the stairs and stormed off into the
night.