Chapter Eighteen

Interlude in a Carriage

Victoria sent a note to Madame LeClaire, canceling her fitting due to illness. The word would be out soon enough, she knew, that the engagement of the Marquess of Rockley had been broken. It would be in the paper within days—either the Society tattletale section, or the announcements; it depended who got the news first.She didn't have the heart to tell her mother. Not yet. Perhaps in a day or so, when the pain wasn't so raw. Lady Melly was so happy to be bringing a marquess into the family, Victoria didn't have the heart to tell her she'd called it off.

Verbena tsked over her red eyes, but said nothing save, "I'm so sorry, miss. It's not the same, but I felt pretty bad when I lost my Jassie to another woman. Leastwise you know it ain't that."

If that item was supposed to make her feel better, it didn't. Victoria only sent Verbena from her room and stared out the window, watching the screeching blue jay as it visited the tree.

She begged off from attending a dinner party that night; instead, as soon as her mother left to trade gossip and jokes with the other ton ladies, Victoria slipped out of the house from the back door. She was dressed in her split-skirt gown, specially made for hunting vampires.

That night she tracked and staked five undead.

The next night, three more.

The third night she only found one. It felt bloody good when she drove that stake into the vampire's chest.

But it wasn't enough, so she wandered the streets near Covent Garden and allowed herself to be accosted by several mortal criminals. After showing them her pistol and the expertise with which she could kick and punch, Victoria ran them off into the darkness and felt a bit more satisfied.

She didn't return to Grantworth House until after dawn. Then she fell into bed and slept restlessly.

When Aunt Eustacia sent a summons on the fourth day after Phillip burst into Victoria's bedchamber, she considered ignoring it. She didn't feel the need to meet with her aunt or Max, who would certainly be there. She was doing her job hunting and killing the undead; they'd retrieved the Book of Antwartha, which she had hidden at the chapel at St. Heath's Row before she and Rockley broke things off.

What could her aunt want to meet about?

Her decision was made when Lady Melly poked her head in her bedroom. "I'm attending tea at Winnie's; she and Petronilla were hoping you'd come too so we could discuss seating arrangements for the wedding. I haven't seen Rockley for a few days, Victoria. Is he ill?"

Apparently her mother didn't see the red rims of her own daughter's eyes, nor the black circles underscoring them. "Not that I know of. He's been very busy. And, unfortunately, I promised Aunt Eustacia I would visit today. It's been nearly a week."

She really did have to tell her mother.

Every day she didn't, she risked its appearing in the papers before Lady Melly knew. It wasn't fair to her mother that she might be blindsided. The Society ladies would have a field day at her expense if that happened.

"Mother, I have to tell you something. Rockley and I had an argument. We…" Her voice trailed off when she saw the stricken look on Lady Melly's face.

"Well, surely you can mend the fence, Victoria! You cannot ruin your future over one small argument!"

One small argument.

"I wanted you to know in the event that you heard any rumors," she added lamely. Blast. She could single-handedly take down three vampires; why couldn't she tell her mother the truth?

"Well, I expect you to speak with him at the Mullingtons' ball next week and fix things! No excuses, Victoria. It's the duke's fiftieth birthday; everyone will be there. Including you."

Victoria nodded. She had no choice, and Phillip possibly wouldn't attend anyway. He hated those affairs. And if there was even a hint of a rumor that he was eligible once again… well, he would be cornered before he took three steps into the room.

"Now, I will see you tonight. We leave at seven thirty. Be ready. And put something over those black circles under your eyes, Victoria. You look horridly exhausted."

But in the end Victoria didn't go to Aunt Eustacia's. She sent a message back, after her mother left, that she was obligated to spend the day making calls.

And she spent the rest of the afternoon in her room.

That night she had no choice but to attend a musicale with Lady Melly. The only redeeming factor was that it was sure to be an early night, which would allow her to sneak out of the house and go what she had come to think of as patrolling for vampires.

The musicale was just as unexciting as the one she'd attended at the Straithwaites'; perhaps more so, since this time Rockley didn't make an appearance.

Neither, unfortunately, did any vampires.

It was after midnight when Grantworth House had settled to sleep, and Victoria slipped out the back door.

Barth, her trusty mode of transport, was waiting just around the corner, and as had become their habit, he merely nodded as she climbed into the hackney. He knew his duty by now and drove the carriage to a dangerous part of town. It varied each night; Victoria didn't care. She trusted Barth to know the best places to go and to take her there.

The cobbled streets were damp from a light summer rain, glistening like gray teeth in the moonlight. Victoria left the hackney and told Barth to come for her in two hours.

As the carriage trundled off, she walked to the center of the empty street and stood there, looking around. Daring any danger to accost her.

Everything was silent. Gray and black and silent.

She favored this section of the city—wherever it was; she didn't care and didn't need to know—because the street lamps had either burned out or not been lit tonight. It was the perfect breeding ground for vampires… or other thieves who needed to be taught a lesson. She wasn't particular.

After the first night of patrolling by herself, dressed in men's clothing, Victoria had elected to wear her split skirt on subsequent trips. Garbed as a woman, she attracted more attention from those who wanted to prey on the weak.

But tonight it appeared that the streets were devoid of any dangers for men or women.

She walked down the center of the road, bold and quick, watching for anything that might move in the shadows. Feeling for any faint chill over the back of her neck.

Nothing.

Nothing until she rounded the corner of her third block and saw the shift in an alley. And the back of her neck chilled.

Her lips stretching in a nasty smile, Victoria started toward the shadowy movement. She had her stake in her hand, hidden in the folds of her cloak, and she walked along nonchalantly. She passed the alley, her movements nearly shouting innocence and temptation.

She expected him or her to charge out and attack her, but when nothing had happened after half a block, she stopped and turned to look behind. No one was there; the coolness at the back of her neck had eased.

Just as she turned to walk back to the alley, a black carriage, high sprung and elegant, wheeled around the corner. Victoria turned to look; it was unusual to see such an expensive coach in this part of town.

The carriage eased to a stop in the street in front of her. Its two black horses rolled their eyes, the only pure white in the gray of night, and stamped their feet. The driver did not look at Victoria as he sat unmoving.

Then the door opened.

"Victoria."

It was Sebastian, and he was beckoning to her; just his gloved hand was visible, but she recognized his voice, the way he said her name.

She stepped toward the carriage, walking up to the door, and looked in. Sebastian sat alone inside, leaning forward from his seat just enough to stretch his hand out. Offering his assistance to her in climbing in.

"Come. You won't find anyone to hunt tonight, my lovely Venator."

"Why is that?" She stood directly in front of the door, hands on her hips, suddenly unaccountably angry.

"Come for a ride with me. We can enjoy the full moon and I will tell you all about it."

"Unless there's a vampire in there that's ready to die, I'll walk. Thank you." She turned and started away.

He moved so quickly she had no time to react; he was out of the carriage and had his arm wrapped around her waist, whirling her back toward the vehicle in what seemed like an instantaneous movement. She stumbled over a stone that marked the edge of the road, falling toward the carriage. Her hands slamming into the wall were the only things that kept her from landing in the mud.

"So you're in the mood for a fight, are you?" Sebastian said in her ear as his hands planted on either side of hers. "That's the word on the streets. It's been the talk at the Chalice."

She whipped her arms out, knocking his hands away, and turned. He was right there, so close she could count every eyelash and smell cloves on his breath. "You're no match for me," she hissed. She didn't understand where this anger was coming from; she just knew she needed an outlet.

"Try me."

She moved, but he was fast, and he caught her wrists, one in each hand, and pulled them straight down so her arms were extended past her hips. Victoria struggled, but before she could break his grip he placed a foot next to hers and yanked her to the side. She lost her balance, and he picked her up and shoved her into the carriage.

Sebastian was up and inside before she could scramble to her feet, locking the door. He pounded a long walking stick on the ceiling for the driver to start just as Victoria sprang up from the floor.

"Have a seat, my dear," he said, looking up at her standing over him as if she'd just called for tea. "If you want to fight, I'll fight. You appear to be in need of some kind of… release. Or… you can take a seat safely over there."

Victoria sat. She was breathing hard, and a little shaken at how easily he'd bested her. Well, not bested her exactly—he'd caught her off guard, but she was not subdued. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

"What do you want?"

"That, my dear, is a dangerous question to ask. Are you quite certain you want my answer?"

She considered him, the way his eyes gleamed and a half smile curved his lips. And decided she wasn't ready to have the answer. So she asked a different question: "What did you mean, that I wouldn't find anyone to hunt tonight?"