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Chapter 40

With a last glance behind her, Buffy stepped up into the waiting carriage. It was time to go back to London.

After letting Derrick and Esme in on their secret, Spike had concluded that they’d spent enough time rusticating – as he liked to put it – out in the country. To get Buffy used to the more rigid structures of society – the vampires seemingly losing their formal manners the moment they were away from humans – he held a few social engagements at the estate; nothing too grandiose, just the crème de la crème of society.

The Slayer had accessed her memories, the time she’d been more Elizabeth than Buffy, and was grateful that the grace and poise she’d been gifted with during her amnesiac bout hadn’t left her. When the last carriage had left after the first of several such parties, she’d been beaming with pride at her accomplishments and eager to share…

“Come on, Slayer, get your arse in the bloody carriage already,” Spike grumbled from behind her, shaking her from her reverie. She threw a glare over her shoulder, just to let him know what she thought of his griping, then climbed the few steps that would gain her entry into the plush interior of the conveyance.

Buffy had barely managed to get her skirts settled around her when suddenly the vampire had vaulted inside and plopped himself in the space right beside her. For having such a compact physique, he sure managed to take up the majority of the seat. She rolled her eyes at him and tugged her skirts from where they were trapped beneath his leg, a long-suffering sigh escaping her mouth. Secretly, she was pleased; him sitting next to her afforded herself her own personal pillow. With the long journey ahead, Buffy knew it wouldn’t be long before the gently swaying of the coach would lull her to sleep.

Not even bothering to wait, she leaned against him, smiling inwardly when his arm automatically slipped around her shoulder. A few moments later, they were on their way back to London.

~*~*~*~*~

The carriage rolled to a stop a few hours before sunrise. When Spike climbed down and looked around, it took him a moment to realize that the driver hadn’t stopped before his townhouse, but his father’s. Well, his now.

He turned automatically, helping the Slayer alight. They’d stay here for now and after he woke, he’d see about a personnel change. Because there was no way he was going to keep his father’s main servants around, being that they were probably completely unaware of what he was.

The door opened without his prompt and he was shocked to see his own butler, Higgins, at the door. Maybe his staff had taken care of the “problem” for him; he’d have to speak with Higgins or Travis a bit later. Right now, the forthcoming dawn was urging him to sleep – the jolting ride in the carriage hadn’t helped either – so he left the details of seeing to his things to his butler and led Buffy upstairs.

~*~

A fire was going in the hearth and a nightcap was waiting for him, no doubt freshly poured upon word of his arrival…all the comforts he’d come to expect.

There was a brief knock at the door and a moment later, Travis entered.

“Good evening, m’lord. Will you be needing anything?”

Spike looked over at the Slayer as she sat down wearily in one of the chairs near the fireplace.

“Something to drink, please?” Buffy asked tiredly.

“I’ll see to it at once, m’lady,” Travis replied. A moment later he was out the door and bent on his task.

When the door clicked shut behind his valet, Spike walked over to where the goblet of blood sat waiting for him. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he wasn’t one to let fresh blood go to waste. A few quick gulps and he was through, returning the cup to the tray for removal upon his man’s return.

Travis was back a moment later with the Slayer’s drink, leaving a tray by her chair before grabbing the one he’d left earlier for his master.

“Will you require anything else, m’lord?”

“No…thank you, Travis,” Spike mumbled distractedly.

“Very good, sir.”

He left as quietly as he came, closing the bedroom door softly behind him.

“Come on, pet. Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured as he stepped in front of her. He reached down and drew her to her feet, turning her back to him so that he could start unbuttoning the numerous fastenings of her gown. She was half asleep and followed his directions blindly, stepping out of the middle of the circle her dress made as it fell to the floor. His fingers tore in to the fastenings of her corset, smirking behind her back when she released her pent up breath. Bloody torture device is what it was. The rest of her undergarment fell away, leaving her bare to his gaze.

Spike swung her up into his arms and placed her on the bed, quickly shedding his own clothes and joining her. As soon as he slid beneath the covers, she was rolling towards him, cuddling close and drifting off to sleep. The ride in the carriage must have worn him out too, because he just wrapped his arms around her and drifted off to sleep as well.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy hesitated before Spike’s study, unsure whether or not she should knock. In the country, she hadn’t bothered, the atmosphere at his ancestral home very relaxed. But here, back in London and subject to the gossiping tongues of the servants, she just wasn’t sure of the exact protocol.

The door opened before she could debate further, and she found her arms roughly grabbed by the vampire to be dragged inside. Then she was thrust against the door, forcing it closed, as he leaned in and kissed her senseless.

She wasn’t quite sure what had set him off, but she was more than happy to engage in some kissage. Buffy dragged air into her lungs when he finally released her mouth to trail kisses along her jaw and neck.

“Taste so good,” he mumbled against her skin.

The Slayer whimpered helplessly in his arms, her traitorous body reacting to him like she hadn’t spent several hours this morning doing this very thing. She guessed he was making up for last night.

“Uh…Spike?” She tried to get his attention after another toe-curling kiss. “William? Spike!”

Buffy was panting heavily by now, and the half-lidded gaze he directed her way…

‘Focus, Buffy!’

“Renee…luncheon…remember?” It wasn’t much in the way of coherency but it was a start.

“Cancel,” he coaxed, nibbling on her ear for a minute. “Send a note ‘round that you’re not feeling well. I’ll ditch the paperwork and we can go back to bed.”

So tempting.

When he began teasing the marks on her neck, she was just about ready to give in.

“Carriage!” she gasped out, suddenly remembering.

“How long?”

“Maybe…mmmmmm…” She moaned, she couldn’t help it. He was grinding his erection against her cleft. Rather than push him away, she hauled him closer. “…ten minutes…”

Ten minutes was plenty of time.

~*~*~*~*~

“Have fun, pet,” he called out cheerfully as she walked down the hallway towards the front door.

The look Buffy gave him should have withered him on the spot, but only made him chuckle out loud. Perverse vampire could have probably brought her off in half the time, but did he? No! As it was, Renee was going to know exactly what had made her late. And when the two of them were alone, she was sure to be subject to her friend’s teasing.

He was so going to get it when she got home.

~*~*~*~*~

“The Marquess of Brummidge, m’lady,” Renee’s butler announced upon entering the sitting room. The women had finished their meal and were engaging in some after-lunch banter.

“Show him in, Fitzhugh.”

Celeste Devlin looked up as her brother, Marcus, was announced. Though she was engaged to be married, for some reason, he saw fit to escort her about whenever her fiancé wasn’t with her and had dropped her off at the Marchioness’ place earlier with instructions that he’d return late this afternoon. Why he was here so soon was something of a mystery to the girl.

Seated beside her friend Celeste, Buffy, too, looked towards the entry as the heir to the Duke of Rutherford walked inside. She remembered the first time she’d met him, how his eyes had swept over her body in an entirely too forward glance – how her inner “Elizabeth” had been grateful that she’d already “belonged” to another.

Now, as she took in his appearance, the dark, nearly black hair that was slightly longer than current fashion, damp from the recent rain that had descended upon the city; his equally dark, thick brows that drew together as his eyes swept over the room of ladies present…the Slayer could only thank the stars once again that she belonged to Spike. His stare, when his gaze finally locked with hers, was no less intense now. The color of his eyes so dark they appeared almost black. Only, there was no “I-want-to-eat-you-up-the-first-chance-I-get” to his gaze; instead, he looked upon her with the respect befitting her station – the mated wife of a master vampire of the Aurelius line.

Buffy thought she saw regret flicker behind his eyes before he managed to tear his gaze away from her to walk over and greet Renee, murmuring acknowledgements to various ladies along the way.

“Lady Atherton, so good to see you again. My business concluded early and, since I was due to pick up Celeste in an hour or so, I decided to just wait out my time here…if that’s all right with you,” he greeted as he bent over her hand and brushed a soft kiss against the cool flesh. Then for her ears alone he added, “I need to speak with Lady Thornton… alone.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay, m’lord. I just hope we don’t bore you to tears with talk of balls and such. Mayhap you’d like to while away the time in my study? Over a good brandy?”

“You’re a true gem, Renee,” he murmured aloud, relinquishing his grip and standing upright. “I’ll see myself out.”

Polite goodbyes rang out from the assembled ladies as he made his way to the door.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy walked cautiously down the deserted hallway towards Renee’s study. Her nervousness knew no bounds as she drew closer to the room that the male vampire was waiting within. The vampiress hadn’t said what he’d wanted, only that he needed to speak with her alone. Her first thought was that something had happened to Spike, before she dismissed it out of hand. Surely she would have known if anything were to have happened to him. Hadn’t he said that she was tied to him now?

So, if not Spike, then who?

She opened the door and quickly slipped inside, breathing a sigh of relief when she noticed him across the room.

The look was back. Regret…mixed with reluctance. As if he didn’t wanted to share whatever it was that he was about to tell her.

“Lady Thornton…please…sit,” he greeted, gesturing to one of the chaise lounges. “Would you like a drink?”

“No…I don’t…that is…I wouldn’t want to be caught alone—”

Marcus smiled. A true smile that lit up his dark eyes and hinted at the mischievous boy he no doubt once was. Buffy smiled in return, feeling more comfortable without his penetrating stare directed her way.

“Don’t worry.” He tapped his ear. “I’d hear them. And, well, let’s just say that that…” He inclined his head towards the door she’d just entered. “…isn’t the only way out of here.”

“Renee…the Marchioness said you wanted to speak with me.”

“Yes. Only—”

The vampire hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the subject matter.

“Only?” Buffy drew the word out, hoping he’d continue.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth—”

“Buffy,” she responded automatically.

“Buffy?” he asked, confused.

“Yes, Buffy. My friends call me Buffy.”

“Friend? I…I’d like that…Buffy.”

The two shared another smile before the Marquess’ expression grew grim.

“I’m sorry, Buffy…there’s just no real easy way to say this. And, I’m only telling you because I was aware how close you two were…and being as I was the one that found her coach—”

Marcus was ready to stake himself. He was rambling like some lovesick youth in his first crush. But, what he needed to tell the girl was important. Only, he knew what was going to happen afterward, and he really didn’t want to have to deal with the weeping woman he’d soon have on his hands. Maybe he should have just told the Renee and let the vampiress tell the girl. Word was that the two were very close, that the Marchioness had spent much of her time the last two years in the company of the girl seated before him.

Ah, hindsight.

There was no help for it.

“I…the reason I’m here so early, is that my business was delayed. As I was on my way out of London, I happened upon Mrs. Rothworth’s coach. She was apparently on her way into town. There’d been signs of a struggle, her faithful coachman had been shot, was slowly bleeding to death, and my own driver couldn’t do anything to save him. I’m sorry, Buffy…but, she’s dust.”

The Slayer stared at the vampire in shock.

Her chaperone, former chaperone, was gone.

“I’ve got runner out,” the vampire was saying. “We’ve got to head them off…before they have a chance to talk. They’ll no doubt hole up somewhere safe until nightfall, when the need to spend their bounty will overtake their common sense and they slink off to the seaside taverns.”

Buffy hadn’t moved. Was just staring at the vampire while he continued to speak.

“I was hoping you might know where your husband is currently, so that I don’t have to waste valuable time tracking him down.”

“Home,” she murmured.

“He’s at home?” he asked.

“I need to go home,” she told him, her voice that of a small child.

“Certainly. I’ll take you there at once. Let me just retrieve Celeste.”

He waited a moment for her to nod. To show some sign that she’d heard him. After a minute, in which she just sat there unmoving, he quickly excused himself to get his sister. The Marquess didn’t elaborate, just asked Celeste to make her goodbyes and that Lady Thornton wasn’t feeling well and he’d be seeing her home. Renee gave him a hard stare to which he just gave a slight shake of his head. He’d tell her later tonight.

Once the two women were settled inside the carriage and out of the rain, he climbed up, yelling for his driver to make haste to the Marquess of Chadsworth’s residence. He had barely shut the door and settled in his seat when the driver cracked his whip, the conveyance jolting slightly as the horses lunged into motion.

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