The Rest Falls Away

Chapter Nine Miss Grantworth Becomes Frightfully Chilled at a Most Inconvenient Moment

When Victoria opened her eyes, Sebastian was still looking down at his hand on her stomach. Blinking, trying to clear her head, she realized he hadn't even noticed she'd… what? Fainted?

Only a moment had passed—she was sure of it—since everything went dark. A brief second. An anomaly.

But whatever had caused it—whether it was her own sensitivities or some other weakness—she didn't want to chance that it would be repeated. She grasped Sebastian's hand by the wrist and removed it from her lifted shirt. He looked at her then, his eyes the rich color of strong-brewed tea, all remnants of the golden color gone.

"You wanted to look. You said nothing about touching." If she weren't so wary, she would have been jubilant that her voice came out strong and sure, with a hint of the mockery Max often carried in his tones.

He bowed his head in gentle acknowledgment and drew away.

"I will be grateful to you if, now that I have upheld more than my share of our bargain, you will tell me what I need to know."

"Indeed I will, Victoria." He clasped his hands over his chest, relaxing back into his position at the opposite end of the settee, and seemed to gather his thoughts.

That was fine with Victoria, for she wasn't sure she would be able to hear or remember anything he might say over the rush of wind in her ears and the pounding of her heart.

At last he spoke, and when he did it was brief and to the point, as if he, too, felt uncomfortable continuing to be in her presence. "The book is currently in the possession of a man recently returned from travels in India. While there he purchased an old castle, and the book was included in the estate's library. A protection was placed on it centuries ago, and the book cannot be opened until the protection is broken. It also cannot be removed from the possession of its owner by a mortal human."

"But an undead could steal it?"

"Yes, that is the case. You must thus wait for Lilith to send her accomplices to take the book, and that is when you must apprehend them, after they have already stolen it. Else, if you attempt to take the book on your own, you will die as soon as you touch it."

Victoria looked at him, considering. "But I am to believe that once a vampire removes the book from the owner, it is safe for a mortal to touch."

"Indeed."

"And… how is a vampire to steal it from this man if it cannot cross the threshold of a home uninvited?" Skepticism laced her voice.

Sebastian gave a bare nod, as if acknowledging her cynicism. "That is why it will happen two nights from now. The owner of the house will leave on his travels, and the person staying there in his absence will invite the undead into the home."

"This person who will invite the vampires in… is he aware that they are vampires? And the purpose of their visit? Will this person be harmed?"

Sebastian's shoulders moved in a careless shrug. "That is all the information you will need, Victoria. You may act on it or choose not to."

"And if you are lying to me, or mistaken in your information, I will suffer the consequences."

Sebastian stirred, sitting up and leaning toward her, his eyes dark slits. "Victoria, I intend this to be only the first of many times for us to meet. Thus, I assure you, I am not lying. And when it comes to matters such as these, I am never mistaken."

Victoria and Verbena did not arrive home until the sun was peeking over the eastern edge of London's profile. Weary, exhilarated, and unbalanced by the events of the night, Victoria did not speak during the ride home, and instead contemplated her next course of action.

Sebastian had given her the direction of the man who had the Book of Antwartha. He also reiterated that the vampires were to steal it in two nights, which was now the very next night, because the owner would be away. If his information was accurate, Victoria had visited the Silver Chalice none too soon. Perhaps that was why Max had been there last night.

Should she tell Aunt Eustacia and, by telling her, inform Max, so that they could work together to obtain the book? Or should she lie in wait for Lilith's men herself, in the event that the information Sebastian gave her was false?

At Grantworth House the hackney pulled up at the curb by a yawning Barth, and Victoria and Verbena slipped down and onto the walk. Hustling toward the servants' entrance, Victoria followed Verbena through the back way, which had been left open by prearrangement, and managed to slink into her room without being noticed by any of the servants. Lady Melly would sleep until after noon, and to her knowledge, Victoria had come home from a dinner party with the headache.

Verbena helped her undress, and Victoria fell gratefully onto her feather bed. Just as she was drifting off to sleep she remembered: Tonight she was to see Phillip at the Madagascar' ball. Perhaps there would be an opportunity for him to kiss her again.

She smiled into her pillow.

"Why is it," Phillip murmured as he drew Victoria close to his side, "that I must always beat a path through a throng of bucks if I wish to dance with you?"

Her wrist tucked betwixt his arm and his side, she allowed her hip to sway against his as they strolled away. "They were not there to speak only to me," she replied, turning up her face to smile at him. "Gwendolyn Starcasset has quite a following as well."

"That may be so, but most of them were panting over your hand, not hers."

"You are too kind, sir," she replied with a coy smile.

His arm tightened hers against his side. "I am not kind whatsoever," Phillip replied. "In fact, I have not one whit of kindness toward those fops."

"And what of the mamas and belles who moon over your handsome face and bulging purse?"

"I am soon to put them out of their misery. Would you care for something to drink, Victoria?"

She could only nod and try not to stare up at him. Soon to put them out of their misery? Could he mean what she thought he meant? Her skin flushed warm and she was grateful for the cup of punch in which she could bury her face.

It was only yesterday that he'd kissed her in the park, and despite her unsettling experience at the Silver Chalice, Victoria had awakened late in the day today remembering the taste of his lips. Wondering if tonight he would take the opportunity again.

A proper lady wasn't supposed to think about kissing a man to whom she was not married, or at least betrothed. But since she'd received her vis bulla, Victoria had moved far beyond being a proper lady. Killing vampires. Wearing trousers. Walking the streets at night.

Showing her navel to strange men.

What would Phillip think if he saw her vis bulla!

Her face grew hotter than ever, and Phillip must have noticed, for he said, "Are you feeling quite all right, Victoria? Shall we step outside for some air?"

"Yes, I would like that."

Just outside the ballroom's grand French doors, Victoria and Phillip paused on the terrace. Two other couples stood at the waist-high railing, looking down over the weaving pathways and clusters of hedge that made up the Madagascars' walking garden. A gentle sweep of steps led from the center of the stone terrace down into the vegetation below.

Phillip released Victoria's arm and slid his around the back of her waist, guiding her along the railing. A gardenia tree, laden with creamy white blossoms, grew up from below and was near enough that he could choose a flower and offer it to her.

"For my lady," he said, holding it out to her. "I wanted to bring forget-me-nots, but they are out of season."

Victoria smiled as she accepted the gardenia, amazed as always by the intense fragrance that came from a single flower. She noticed that Phillip had moved them along the terrace to a more private corner, still within the bounds of propriety as they stood out in the open in a well-lit area, but away from the wide-flung doors and chatter of the ballroom. The other couples lingering in the night air appeared not to notice their presence. She recognized one of them as Lord Truscott of the inept feet and Miss Emily Colton.

Phillip turned to face her, crowding her gently toward the railing, and she tipped her face up. His dark hair rose well above his forehead, not one lock daring to fall from its high-brushed moorings even when he looked down at her. The look in his half-mast eyes made her hands damp, and she smiled nervously.

"Victoria," he said in a rumbling voice that carried to only her ears. "You must know that I have never forgotten you, and my regard for you has grown since we have renewed our acquaintance."

At that moment Victoria felt a prickle of cold air over the back of her neck. She started, so sudden was the sensation, and so unexpected. Why now?

Phillip was looking at her in concern. "Victoria?"

"Go on, please. You… were saying?" She smiled. Perhaps it was only a chill spring breeze.

He took both of her hands then, and drew each of them, one at a time, to his lips, pressing a brief kiss onto the back and then the palms of each one. "When I made the decision to look for a bride, I anticipated that it would take me nearly as long to settle on one as it had taken me to decide to look."

It was not a breeze. The chill had become harsher, more intense. Victoria, who stood with the railing behind her and the light of the ballroom spilling out in front of her, tried to keep her attention on Phillip. She smiled up at her suitor, even as it became clear that the vampire was not in the ballroom.

He or she was here, outside. Likely with a chosen victim.

She had to do something. Her fingers tightened in Phillip's grasp, and she looked back up at him. "Phillip… I feel a bit of a chill."

He stopped, as her words had interrupted his, and looked down at her. "Could we… I should like to speak with you on something before we go back inside. I have something I wish to ask you." He released her hands and boldly placed his fingers around her bare arms, gently moving his hands up and down as if to warm her.

Victoria swallowed. She wanted to hear what he was going to say… but how could she listen now?

"Victoria," Phillip had continued to speak, "as I said, I expected it to take me a long time to find the right woman to marry… so imagine my surprise and delight when I realized I'd found her… only weeks after beginning my search. Because, in truth, I had found you long ago."

The cold at the back of her neck was unbearable; it was all she could do to keep from pulling her arms from Phillip's grip and rubbing her nape while dashing off into the gardens below.

For that was where the vampire was.

And how was she going to get away to get there?

"Victoria, will you be my marchioness?"

"Yes, Phillip! Yes, I will… but would you please get my wrap? I am frightfully chilled!" She couldn't help that her voice came out with a panicked note; she had to stop the vampire.

He looked down at her, surprise stamped on his face, as if he didn't quite know how to react.

Victoria had to think: She had accepted his proposal, hadn't she?

"Yes, of course, my lady," he replied slowly, formally. Victoria felt a pit in the bottom of her stomach.

He started to turn away, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back. She flung her arms around his neck and pulled his face down for a kiss, murmuring, "Yes, I will marry you, Phillip. I want to marry you." A great burst of joy flooded her. She was in love, and she was going to marry Phillip!

He kissed her in return, and then she pulled away, the frigidity at the nape of her neck calling her back to duty. "My wrap, please, Phillip, so that we can stay out here for a bit?" She smiled, biting the inside of her lip, silently entreating him to go now so she could slip down into the gardens.

He was smiling too, now, not so formal, and she knew she'd saved that moment… now if only she could save the victim. Go now!

He did, striding quickly from the terrace back into the ballroom, and Victoria barely waited until he was inside before hurrying down the steps into the dark gardens below.