Page 17 of Wynter's Bite

“Oh dear,” Lady Mead sounded immediately contrite. “That is quick thinking of you after all.” Justus peeked to see Bethany’s mother press a gloved hand to her cheek. “You do appear to be flushed. I do hope you are not falling ill. But you had that headache yesterday evening and...” Lady Mead wrung her gloved hands. “Perhaps we should depart early and send for the doctor. Your father is growing worried of your health of late.”

“No!” Bethany said sharply. “That is, I am feeling much better. The headache is gone. I only overexerted myself taking turns around the room.”

Justus raised a brow. He didn’t smell any illness on Bethany. Had she feigned her malady to avoid seeing him last night, or was it because his failure to pay her a call had made her that distraught? Remorse cascaded over his heart. He never wanted to cause her pain.

Lady Wickshire’s voice made him draw back before he was seen. “Very well. Let us return to the gathering. Lord Willoughby’s heir was looking quite alone last I saw him.”

As their footsteps faded away, Justus gnashed his fangs. The Willoughby lad could stuff it. He hadn’t restored Bethany’s esteem only for her to waste the evening discussing the weather with milksop boys and lecherous widowers.

Withdrawing from the library, he worked to contrive a way to spend some time at her side without drawing censure from society, or his Lord Vampire.

***

THE NEXT TWELVE NIGHTS were a juxtaposition of euphoria and despair for Justus. He saw Bethany as often as possible, but between his day rest, his duties as second in command to the Lord Vampire, and of course, avoiding scrutiny from both the ton and the Rochester vampires, his time with Bethany was dismally meager.

Yet he treasured every moment he had with her all the more, participating in the contradances and quadrilles just to spend a few moments dancing with her before she was passed to the next partner. He longed to waltz with her, but that would draw too much attention. As it was, too often did they get caught up in their latest literary discussion, causing a few raised eyebrows unless others were included. Others that were definitely not desired. He’d seen Lord and Lady Wickshire casting glares at him frequently.

Still, the books they exchanged somewhat eased Justus’s loneliness. Every morning when he retired for the day, Justus would light a candle and read the latest volume that Bethany thought he’d enjoy. Her scent clung to each page, often distracting him from the story. He wondered if she could detect his scent on the books he loaned her. Likely not, as she was a human.

Not for the first time, he wondered what sort of vampire Bethany would make. She was certainly brave and intelligent enough to be able to navigate through Society undetected, and her beauty would be an asset when she hunted. Yet would the prospect of drinking blood and sacrificing the sun for immortality appeal to her?

There was no way to know without breaking one of the cardinal rules of their kind: never reveal oneself to a mortal unless they were to be Changed. The quandary was enough to make him want to scream. He longed to explain why he couldn’t call upon her or even court her, and why they had to be so discreet with their interactions. The sadness in her eyes when he told he was unable to see her some evenings speared him, for he could not tell her of his duties.

And, of course, there were other vexing matters. As he observed a few men giving Bethany lustful looks, Justus longed to tear their throats out and announce to the world that she was his. Almost as unnerving was the thought of the other Rochester vampires feeding on her. True, only Gavin and Benson, the third in command, were the only vampires aside from Justus who circulated among Society, but they all regularly fed upon the ton. Justus ground his teeth in impotent frustration. It sickened him to imagine Gavin sinking his fangs into Bethany’s throat, yet how could Justus presume to tell his lord who to bite?

If only he could Mark her. That would prevent any other vampire from touching her. Yet if he did that, he’d be alerting Gavin to the fact that he’d disobeyed his order to lessen his involvement with Bethany.

Justus’s fury came to a head one night when he was abruptly ordered to leave a soiree to help Benson chase down a rogue who’d been encroaching on Rochester’s territory. Infuriated that he’d been pulled from a deep discussion with Bethany, Justus had lost his temper and killed the rogue by driving a tree branch through his heart. Normally Gavin preferred for rogues to be brought in for a trial, but the bleeding sod had vexed him by fighting.

The Lord of Rochester would be annoyed, but Justus had hope that he’d be able to pass off self-defense as an excuse. Still self-loathing filled him at his loss of self-control and he hoped the rogue had at least been of the evil sort, rather than one who’d been exiled for a stupid mistake.

When Justus made it back to the party, he looked so disheveled that Bethany’s eyes had filled with worry. Hopefully she didn’t think he’d been dallying with another woman. Something in his expression must have put her at ease, for with an impish smile, she lured him away to the conservatory.

“I thought I would return the favor and loan you a book,” she said shyly, pulling a thick volume from her reticule.

Justus couldn’t help himself.

He pulled her small, warm body against his and claimed her lips in a fiery kiss that warmed him all the way down to the soles of his feet. She kissed him back eagerly, her soft mouth exploring his with innocent discovery. Just as he pressed his arousal to her soft belly, his sense returned with the realization of what he was doing.

Quickly, he released her before someone spied them. “I apologize once again. We should not do this.”

“Why not?” she whispered, her delectable breasts heaving beneath her gown of azure watered silk.

“Because...” He sighed. She had a point. If he weren’t a vampire, there would be nothing wrong with him paying court to her, kissing her, bedding her once she was his bride. “It’s not proper,” he explained lamely. “Now let us return to the crush before a gossip spies us.”

Her pink lips parted as if in protest, but then she nodded. The rest of the evening, Justus barely had a chance to speak a word to her, for Bethany’s mother was relentless in thrusting her before every unmarried male between the ages of fifteen and eighty. All except for Justus, as Lady Wickshire clearly disliked him.

As he watched a golden-haired Adonis partner Bethany in the waltz, envy boiled his blood.

It was then that he realized that he loved Bethany Mead, and he could not allow her to be given to another man.

Unfortunately, that meant he would have to tell her the truth about what he was and what that meant for his suit. And then he would have to confess all to Gavin.

But first he would speak to Bethany, for she deserved to learn the truth before anyone else.

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