Page 51 of Thomas
Playfully, Thomas pulled him forward. “I would hold your hand, Lord Cameron Dwight Ashford. Since you’re comfortable with that, that is what I would do.”
The night of his sister’s birthday party, Cameron paced back and forth in the foyer, his wingtips clacking loudly on the marble. He pulled at the satin bow tie strapped around the collar of his dress shirt. It felt as if it was choking him.
He refused to think of tonight as his and Thomas’s marriage party, because that only heightened his anxiety. Rachelle had called him almost every day for the past week to pester him and make sure he’d show up. He couldn’t wait until this nightmare was over and done with.
“Very sorry to keep you waiting, Cameron—we needed to make a few adjustments.”
Cameron lifted his gaze, then stopped dead in his tracks. Thomas stalked toward him in a finely tailored three-piece suit of matte black, a crisp white dress shirt and shiny new oxfords. His woolen trench coat was a warm midnight blue and swept down to his calves. His dark hair was neatly smoothed back and away from his face, which somehow shone a spotlight on the pale, heather-colored hue of his eyes framed by his heavy and thick lashes.
For a moment, Cameron gaped at the seemingly new vampire before him. Not new… nostalgic?
“Sir Thomas has gained more weight since I took his initial measurements,” Lennon said, trailing and admiring his handiwork. “I thought I left room for such an occurrence, but it seems it was not enough. I’m quite happy with this result, though.”
“Lennon, you’re a marvel,” Thomas said, sticking his hands into his coat pockets and briefly flapping the material out like a flowing cape. The lining of the coat was satiny and black with a subtle pattern Cameron couldn’t immediately discern. He looked dashing and cool. Thomas blinked up at Cameron. “This man helps you manage the estate, he cuts hair, tailors clothing… Is there anything Lennon can’t do?”
That helped to sober Cameron. “Mind his own business,” he said automatically.
Thomas laughed, and it was… luminous. The way his face and eyes lit up from the unexpected rapture of his amusement.
Lennon, not nearly as entertained, scoffed. “What my taciturn lord fails to realize is that his businessismy business. Miles is waiting outside for you, gentlemen. Have a lovely time tonight.”
When he stepped up beside Cameron, Thomas slipped his palm into his. Cameron gripped him back, openly staring. “You look wonderful,” he said.
It was jarring, because he looked like the man Cameron had seen five years ago. The one sitting in the velvet green and damask room lit by firelight, surrounded by dark wooden bookshelves and speaking confidently with his peers. The one with a sharp intellect and carefree laugh that had left Cameron feeling intrigued and somewhat bewildered.
“Thank you,” Thomas said quietly, his gaze radiant and piercing. “It’s a relief to know that I can still clean up nicely, at least. You look handsome and debonair as always, my gracious lord. Are you anxious?”
“Absolutely.”
Thomas adjusted so that Cameron’s arm was formally hooked within his own. He urged them toward the double doors. “You’re not alone, Lord Ashford. I’ll assist you as best I can.”
The snow-covered hills of Upper Avalon softly illuminated the otherwise dark night as they made their way to the west side of the realm where Rachelle and her mate, Henry, resided. Snow was still falling from the starry, partly cloudy sky, steadily but lightly in an ethereal dance.
Rachelle had instructed them to arrive at least thirty minutesafterthe party invitation’s scheduled start time, which had unnerved Cameron and only added to his stress. As they finally passed through the private winding, tree-lined road and into theopen grove where the estate was situated, it was obvious that the event was already in full swing.
Warm yellow light lit almost every window of the stately brick manor, and there weremanywindows. Vampires dressed in their finest attire were flittering around the circular driveway and main entrance—a fluster of movement, activity and pulsating energies.
Groaning internally, Cameron slouched lower against the seat, lifted his left hand to the back of his neck and closed his eyes. He loved his sister, truly. He and Lennon had raised her and she was not a bad vampire by any means. But in this moment, intensely, hehatedher. He hated her with every fiber of his being.
Thomas’s cool fingertips found Cameron’s free hand once more. Cameron opened his palm to him and took a deep breath. He expected Thomas to say something canned and banal like, “You’ll be fine.” Or ask some prosaic question that would only add to his stress.
And yet, he didn’t. Thomas did not say a word. Silently, he held Cameron’s hand all the way up the drive. He only let go when it was time for them to get out of the car. Even then, once they were standing in the brisk air and facing the bright lights and loud sounds floating beyond the double doors, Thomas hooked their arms together and led him inside.
To Cameron’s ever-loving relief, no grandiose announcement was made as they stepped into the main foyer. No one stopped and lifted their glass, and there was no round of applause like he’d witnessed with other couples in similar circumstances.
There were many smiles and nods. A few subtle “congratulations” as they walked toward the main ballroom, but no one stopped them for a lengthy and drawn-out conversation about their intimate affairs—when had they decided to initiatethe contract, where had they met and how long had it been. And on and on.
Rachelle appeared within their line of sight. Thomas guided them straight toward her, like an arrow shooting through a narrow gap between the trees. Her satin gown was like liquid gold against the warmth of her brown skin, and her braids were elegantly twisted and knotted to the side to show off her pink-diamond studs.
“You’re here,” she said contentedly, “you made it.” She hugged Cameron tightly first, then went for Thomas. She held his shoulders and swept kisses on either side of his cheeks. With her palms still bracing him, she looked him over. “You’re looking remarkably well, Sir Thomas.”
“Thank you,” Thomas said, gently holding her waist. “I feel much better than when last we met.”
“It seems my big brother has been taking excellent care of you? That’s his natural inclination, you know. Taking very good care of others.”
“Yes, I am a living, breathing example of this.”
Rachelle smiled. “You and me both. I told everyone in their invitation not to make a fuss over the two of you,” she said, releasing Thomas’s shoulders. He dropped his palms from her waist in turn. “We all know how you are, Cam, so hopefully everyone will behave themselves.”
