Page 26 of Thomas
Thomas didn’t ask any further questions about Cameron’s (non-)feeding and biting habits. Instead, they focused their energy on sorting and organizing. By the time Lennon came up to announce that lunch was ready, they’d gotten through three boxes. Which was easily double the work Cameron normally achieved on his own.
The following morning, Cameron had an appointment for a visit and check-in with one of his realm’s larger farming properties. Obviously, Cameron would rather not do these visits, but his parents had taught him that showing his face and engaging with tenants at least occasionally helped said tenants to keep things in perspective. It maintained that Cameron was a real, living presence in their minds, as opposed to some theoretical overlord they never laid eyes upon but paid taxes to.
“Congratulations again on your sixth child,” Cameron said with a smile as he stood in the long drive at the front of the cottage. The weather was brisk, damp and cloudy, but the late-morning sun was fighting to pull through the fog. It made the mist hover and swirl around them in golden light. “She is lovely.”
Really, she was a tiny, wrinkled and squirming thing, but Cameron knew what he was supposed to say and stuck with that. This couple now had six children, three big dogs and two cats. For him, this kind of lifestyle felt like constant chaos andloud noises. An existence utterly rife with unpredictability and unrest. A waking nightmare, if you will.
To each their own, he acknowledged. In turn, they might look at his silent, solitary life and balk. Maybe that kind of existence would be dreadful for them?
Well, not a solitary existence anymore, technically.
“And congratulations again on your recent bonding arrangement, my lord,” Jane said as she lovingly cradled the baby vampire in her arms. “The news is buzzing all around town. Everyone wants to meet the vampire you’ve chosen. His name is…”
“Sir Thomas Blakeley,” Gracia supplied, standing beside her mate. She reached over and adjusted the blanket to cover the baby’s face. “He’s the eldest son from the southwestern realm. I have a close friend who used to reside in that area. Lord Blakeley Senior has… quite the reputation.”
“Gracia…” Jane reproached, gently bumping her mate’s shoulder. “Anyway, Lord Ashford, there’s no word of a proper celebration for your nuptials—or at least no one in town has heard of anything. Is something in the works? A banquet at the Ashford estate, perhaps?”
Cameron rubbed the back of his neck and edged closer toward his vehicle. His driver, Miles, was standing with the back door open and the engine running, waiting for Cameron to wrap this up. And he really, really wanted to wrap this up.
“We’ve decided that the contract signing is sufficient,” he said genially. “There won’t be any banquet at the estate, no.”
Jane shook her head in dismay. “Well, that won’t do, my lord! Everyone wants to meet your mate and celebrate you both and this momentous occasion.” She turned to Gracia, absently bouncing the squirming baby in her arms. “We should host something in town? Or here, at the farm?”
“Maybe both?” Gracia offered. “A proper fête in uptown followed by a midnight banquet. A midnight masquerade!”
“Ooh, that sounds positively magical?—”
“Ah, actually, no—I… My sister is planning something, I believe,” Cameron said. Tension pulled at his shoulders as he steeled himself and went on. “There will be a formal party at the end of next month, I think. I don’t know any of the details, but word will be sent soon.”
Shit.Cameron felt as if he was being backed into a corner. A party was bad enough, but a partyanda parade? A full day of loud celebration, raucous events and attention? He’d have to hibernate in his rooms for a month to recuperate.
“Oh, a formal event at the Winters’ estate would be magical in its own right,” Jane said, smiling. Gracia nodded in firm agreement. “We’ll look forward to hearing more details, then.”
Cameron returned home well in advance of lunch, so he went to his office for some downtime and requested a cappuccino and a muffin. When a knock came fifteen minutes later, Cameron was surprised to see Mira, Thomas’s maidservant, stepping through the office door with a tray.
She smiled and dipped her head politely. “Your grace.”
Cameron stood to receive her. “Oh, hello. Where is Lennon?”
“He went to the market in uptown with Miles. Sulee needed some items for dinner and they were awaiting your return with the car. Where would you like this?” She hovered between his desk and the small table near his bookshelves.
“There, please. Thank you, Mira.”
She walked to the table flanked by the comfy pair of chairs. “It’s my pleasure.” She was wearing the slacks and comfortable sweater that he offered his staff in the winter months. Cameron hadn’t cared about formal uniforms after it became clear thathis parents had abandoned him to run the estate and lands on his own. But Lennon had been adamant about keeping a certain level of propriety as a noble house.
Eventually they’d compromised. If Lennon insisted on everyone wearing uniforms, Cameron insisted that said uniforms be casual.
“How are you settling in?” Cameron ventured. He’d barely spoken to her outside of shallow greetings when they passed each other in the halls. She was another new stranger living in his home. He should probably make an effort to know her.
Mira bowed again. Her dark and buoyant curls were pulled back in a long ponytail at the nape of her neck. The length of it fell over her shoulder with the gesture. “Very well, Lord Ashford. Thank you for permitting me to have these new clothes. And my room is spacious and warm as well. Everything—and, well, everyone is so lovely.”
Her smile waned as she took a breath. Hesitating. “And I… I’m sure Sir Thomas feels the same way. He just needs time.”
A sudden and unexpected melancholy settled in the atmosphere. Cameron thought back to Thomas’s intense reaction when he’d opened the door to the secret stairwell yesterday. It was as if the man had gone into a state of shock. He’d been rigid with fear or distress. And his skin had turned even paler than it usually was.
And then he’d laughed maniacally and cried. Cameron had no clue what to make of any of it. None of this was his business, he supposed. Even still, he found that he was curious.
No, he cared. About Thomas and the things going on with him.
