Banner by Vampkiss
Banner by Vampkiss
Chapter 21
A steady stream of carriages flowed in front of the Duke of
Sevring’s home. His ball was the place to be tonight, and it seemed like every
member of the ton was in attendance. Spike’s carriage pulled to a stop in front
of the staircase and he quickly let himself out of the coach to assist the
Slayer to her feet.
She slipped her hand in his, her smile not having left her face since they’d
left his home a bit ago, and she watched as he drew it to his shoulder so that
he could grip her about the waist and lower her to the ground, completely
bypassing the steps. She looked around her agog, mouth open in wonder as she
gazed at the opulent home, surprised that she was actually attending the Duke’s
ball. Behind her, the Viscount and her chaperone alighted from the carriage.
The four joined the throngs of people slowly making their way up the steps to
the entrance. Cloaks were quickly discarded as the four made their way over to
where the butler was intoning their names as the guests stepped into the room.
Spike scanned the crowd, his cerulean gaze sweeping over the guests in search of
the Marquess. He ignored the hushed silence that seemed to descend over the
crowd as his name rang out across the room.
The prodigal son had come home, and everyone was atwitter to see how the meeting
between father and son would play out.
His eyes finally lighted on the Marquess, the people milling about seemed to
unconsciously move out of his line of sight to reveal his father, and with a nod
of his head to his small entourage, he directed them towards the older man, who
stood talking jovially with their host. He figured it was only proper to
formally introduce the Slayer to his father, before bedlam erupted when everyone
happened to notice his ring upon her finger.
“Your Grace. Father…May I present my ward, Lady Elizabeth Summers,” he greeted
the two men after affecting a stiff bow. His vampiric hearing picked up the
hushed whispers of the lesser-known nobles that had no idea as to the identity
of his female companion.
Elizabeth swept into a deep curtsy beside her guardian.
“Lady Summers, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the Duke of Sevring
responded. “Caroline has told me so much about you.”
“Your Grace,” she murmured.
Just then, the Marquess noticed the ring sparkling from its place on the girl’s
left finger and his eyes took on a happy sheen.
“I say, William! Is this-” he began, only to be cut off.
“Yes! But I haven’t said anything yet, and now isn’t the time. Let’s keep it
between the two of us?”
“Of course, of course! I only wish your mother were still alive to meet her,” he
told his son before turning to the petite and practically gushing, “Elizabeth,
it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” And to the amazement of the hundred plus
guests in the room, who were covertly watching the reunion between father and
son – if not actually hearing the exchange – with avid interest, the Marquess
embraced her like a long lost daughter.
“I…uh, that is…It’s nice to meet you, as well,” Elizabeth responded, flustered
by the older gentleman’s unusual burst of affection.
“Your Grace, I can trust your discretion in this matter?” Spike asked his host,
watching with something akin to amusement as his father practically kiss the
Slayer’s hand in gratitude.
“No one will hear it from me. Although, I can’t speak for my wife once she gets
a gander at the girl’s ring. The two have become fast friends these past two
weeks and I’m sure Lady Summers is just dying to share her good fortune. We’ll
need to convince the Duchess that it’s the future husband’s responsibility to
post the bans, not hers,” he joked.
Spike laughed at the other’s jest – well, he hoped it was a jest – and
introduced both Doyle and Mrs. Rothworth to the two men, exchanging a few more
pleasantries before excusing himself and the others, claiming he didn’t want to
monopolize his host’s time. They nodded their understanding, turning towards one
another to continue the discussion they’d been having before Spike’s party had
arrived. However, the vampire did feel his father’s eyes on his back as he
walked off.
~*~*~*~*~
After he got the Slayer seated with a drink, he left her in the care of her
chaperone with strict instructions to keep her dance partners limited to the
demonic persuasion – they would be the only ones that would notice and respect
his claim on the girl. He didn’t fancy getting into a brawl with some of the
young bucks that might try to encroach on his territory. The vampiress nodded
her understanding, settling in beside her charge, as both the Earl and Viscount
moved off to mingle with some of the other guests.
Spike glanced over his shoulder once as he walked away, assuring himself that
she would be alright with the huge crowd in attendance, then made his way over
towards a small circle of men, Doyle hot on his heels.
Four vampires looked up as they felt Spike approach, their whispered
conversation about the “affair” put on hold momentarily. The Marquess of
Eaglethorpe, as the oldest vampire of the bunch at forty years, quickly
introduced himself and the remaining members of the group. Titles and names were
spoken, bows performed, but none of the humans noticed the deference shown Spike
as his status of master vampire.
Standing beside the vampire, Doyle was in awe at how calmly they all spoke about
everyday matters as if they didn’t have a vicious demon tucked within their
skin. They traded quips between them, discussed servants and holdings, all while
nodding pleasantly to the various titled humans as they walked past. It boggled
the half-breed’s mind. If he weren’t half demon himself, he’d be hard pressed to
think that the five other men standing around him weren’t human. And, he
wondered, yet again, what the Powers were up to…
~*~*~*~*~
Elizabeth was having a grand time. Secure in the knowledge that it was she that
was marrying the Earl – even though he’d yet to formally propose, and
considering that she’d been sharing his bed these past weeks, she wasn’t going
to push it – she was able to actually enjoy the ball and all of the people she
met. Even if she couldn’t keep track of their names.
“They’ll remember your name, and that’s all that matters,” the vampiress
whispered to her as she noticed the girl’s pole-axed expression after the last
two people departed their company. “You think it’s bad now…wait until it’s
common knowledge you’re the intended bride of the Earl. And, it’ll just get
worse once you’re actually married to him.”
“It’s just so…overwhelming. All these people, and they’re being so nice to me,
too.”
“Yes, well… just beware. Once these human males see that you’re married off,
they’ll come out of the woodwork trying to proposition you. You’ll have to be
careful. A delicate innocent such as yourself would be no match against their
superior strength. And they’ve the nerve to call us the monsters.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
“You do that, child. And, learn to recognize the vampires in your company.
They’ll be the first to come to your aid.”
Elizabeth nodded at her chaperone. She glanced away to search for her lover in
the huge crush, a smile lighting her face when she saw the Marchioness of
Haversham, the vampiress who’d held the first intimate gathering she’d been
allowed to attend, walking towards her, escorted by a bookish looking gentleman.
“Renee! It’s so good you see you again,” Elizabeth gushed.
Clayton Percival, Viscount Sotheby, looked upon the young human girl in awe.
Renee hadn’t been teasing him with her tales about a claimed human! He’d only
come to tonight’s festivities to get a look at the chit – or to, once and for
all, get the vampiress to stop teasing him. Yet, here he stood, gaping at the
gorgeous brunette like some wet behind the ears lad.
“It’s nice to see you again too, Elizabeth. And, this tongue-tied dolt next to
me is Lord Clayton Percival, Viscount Sotheby. Clayton, close your mouth dear
and extend your greetings to Lady Elizabeth Summers, the Earl of Arundel’s
ward.”
Hearing his name, Clayton snapped out of his trance and affected a stiff bow in
introduction.
“Lady Summers…”
Elizabeth smiled at the thin, bespectacled vampire. Draped in the finest clothes
for tonight’s ball, he still managed to look as out of place as she felt. If it
weren’t for the vampiress at his side, he probably would have gone and hidden in
some corner. As it was, Renee held him firmly in place without appearing to do
so.
“Clayton, why don’t you ask Elizabeth to dance? She looks like she’d like to
take a spin around the dance floor.”
“I’d love to,” Elizabeth responded before the shy man could voice the question.
She’d felt the music thrumming through her body since she’d stepped inside. And,
although it somehow seemed different from what she was used to – which was a
strange thought the more she mulled it over – she wanted to be out there,
twirling around the floor.
The Viscount escorted the human girl out amongst the other couples on the floor,
both settling their hands in the proper place before gliding around the room.
His awkwardness slid away under the seemingly effortless grace of his partner.
She easily complemented his moves, as if she’d stepped into his mind and knew
what he was going to do before even he did. To test his theory, he purposefully
misstepped, and was proved right when she easily sidestepped, avoiding the
crunch of his foot upon her soft shoes, the seamlessness of the action
completely undetectable to anyone who might be watching.
Except for one.
Spike watched his ward glide across the dance floor in the arms of another
vampire and couldn’t help but admire her poise. Even without her memory intact,
she still moved like the Slayer. Unconsciously staying one step ahead of her
enemy.
Then, he watched, as it was she that faltered, although the brief slip looked
anything but contrived, and he noticed her blush and how she apologized to her
partner for her momentary clumsiness. But it was her ashen features and panicked
look that had him swooping in to rescue his girl.
~*~
Elizabeth didn’t know what happened. One minute she was
waltzing around the room on the Viscount’s arm, the next, her brain was
assaulted with visions of blasphemous music, and creatures – humans – and they
were dancing, at least she thought they were dancing. But, it was unlike
anything she’d ever before witnessed. And their clothes. It was like that time
before in the alley, when she’d woken with William by her side.
And, she became scared.
Then, he was there. She could feel him behind her, cutting in abruptly and
sweeping her into his arms, leaving the other vampire to make his way off the
floor. Elizabeth clung to her lover as much as possible in so public a place,
worried about what she’d seen, what she’d imagined. Gained strength by his just
being here, dancing with her.
She needed him to make it go away. Those crazy visions that caused her nothing
but confusion and pain.
When the music drew to an end, Spike led her off the dance floor and over to
where Mrs. Rothworth, the vampire he’d cut in on, and a raven-haired vampiress,
Renee, stood talking with Doyle.
“I’m going to make my excuses to our host and say goodbye to my father, then
we’re leaving. Watch her until I get back, she’s not feeling well,” he told her
chaperone. He watched for a moment as the four rallied around the Slayer,
nodding his thanks before striding off to locate the Duke and his father.
He found the Duke first, engaged in conversation with human and vampire alike,
completely oblivious to the fact. Spike quickly made his excuses, citing his
ward’s sudden illness, and was advised by the man that his father had left about
an hour before, pleading fatigue. The vampire thanked the man for the
information and his hospitality, with a promise to get together sometime in the
coming week.
Then, he returned to the Slayer and his small group made their way through the
crush of people, grabbing their cloaks and escaping into the night. He didn’t
bother with convention and as soon as the carriage door shut, Spike pulled the
Slayer onto his lap and soothed her. He felt her shudder beneath his touch and
part of him was worried that her memories were coming back.
And, right now, he wished they really wouldn’t.