Chapter Twenty-Four
On waking from the dark sleep, Stefan was immediately aware of Bryony’s distress, though the source was unclear. He washed quickly, dressed, and transported himself to the Barrett estate. On arriving, he opened his preternatural senses. And swore under his breath.
Barrett had intentionally informed the family that Stefan was a vampire. Bryony’s mother had declared that a vampire had killed her sister and announced that there would be no marriage now or in the future between Bryony and a monster.
He swore again, though his anger was not directed at Bryony’s mother.
He could not fault the woman for hating his kind.
She had good reason. He raked his fingers through his hair.
Once again, he had caused Bryony pain. He should have stayed away from her, as he had planned instead of letting Charis sway his judgement.
Go back to your little mortal, she’d said. No one else will make you happy.
That was true enough, he thought, but how could he be happy when he seemed to bring Bryony nothing but misery?
She loved her family and had strong ties to her brother and sister.
What right did he have to come between them?
What right did he have to make her choose between himself and her loved ones?
He shook his head. What a fool he was! The answer to his problem was remarkably simple. All he had to do was wipe the memory of what he was from the minds of her parents and her siblings. Problem solved. But first, he would have to let Bryony know what he intended.
A thought took him to the balcony outside her bedchamber. Peering inside, he saw her lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her cheeks stained with her tears. He rapped softly on the glass door.
She glanced toward him, her eyes widening when she saw him standing there. Rising, she hurried across the room to let him in. “Stefan, I have so much to tell you.”
He pressed his fingertips to her lips. “I know your family has forbidden you to marry me because of what I am.”
“You do? But how?”
“Vampire, love. I read your mind. And theirs. I have a solution if you approve.”
“What kind of solution?” she asked warily.
“I can erase the memory of what I am from their minds.”
“I don’t believe you. How can you do that?”
“’Tis quite simple. It will do them no harm. They will simply forget they ever knew the truth. I will plant a new memory.”
“What kind of memory?”
“They will believe I am a wealthy landowner, with estates in London and Ireland. Your parents will be pleased that you’ve made such a good match.”
“And it won’t hurt them in any way?”
“No. I give you my word.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers drumming on the mattress. It sounded so easy. Too easy. “When will you do it?”
“Now, if you agree.”
“Veronica and I were hoping to have a double wedding. Is that all right with you?”
“Whatever you wish.”
“And she’ll remember that we planned it?”
“Yes. No other memories will be affected.”
Bryony took a deep breath. She had seen him do some amazing things, but tampering with the minds of her family? What if something went wrong? What if he erased other memories by mistake?
Taking her hands in his, he lifted her to her feet. “Trust me, my fair Bryony. I would do nothing to harm those you love.”
How could she doubt him when he looked at her like that, his dark eyes filled with love and concern? “Have you done this kind of thing to others?”
“Every time I feed,” he said. “No one ever remembers me or what I have done.”
She pressed her lips together. Took a deep breath. And nodded. “All right. Do what you have to do.”
Opening his senses, he located her parents, Eli, and Veronica. One by one, he erased the memory of what he was and replaced it with the one he had mentioned to Bryony. It was, after all, the truth. He was a wealthy landowner, with estates in England and Ireland.
All went smoothly until his mind brushed Barrett’s. It was like hitting a wall. Stefan frowned. When he tried again, he realized Barrett was somehow immune to his preternatural power. He shook his head. Never before had he encountered anything like that.
He heard Barrett’s laughter in his mind. I know what you’re trying to do vampire, he said. It might work on my family but it will not work on me.
Stefan grunted softly. Leyton Barrett, it seemed, also knew a witch.
“Did it work?” Bryony asked.
“Not on your father.”
“What? Why not?”
“I’m not sure.” Either a black witch had woven a spell of protection around him, or he carried an enchanted talisman of some kind that blocked preternatural power from invading his mind.
Pulling Bryony into his arms, he kissed her. “You will see the difference in the others tonight.” He kissed her again. “Now, I must go down and knock at your front door.”
Bryony nodded uncertainly. She watched him leave by the balcony and then hurried downstairs, wanting to be there when Alistair let him in.
Her parents were in the drawing room. A fire blazed in the hearth. Her father was reading a book, her mother was perusing dress patterns.
“Bryony,” her mother said, smiling. “Come look at this wedding gown.”
Bryony went to sit on the couch with her mother, her heart pounding as she waited for Stefan to arrive. At his knock, Alistair went to the door. He returned a moment later to announce their guest.
“Show him in,” Barrett said, laying his book aside.
Bryony held her breath as Stefan entered the room.
Her mother smiled as Stefan took her hand in his and kissed it.
For a moment, Stefan and her father regarded each other, the tension between them almost tangible, though her mother didn’t seem to notice.
Stefan took the seat her father offered and Bryony spent the next forty minutes feeling as if she was watching a stage play.
Her mother was cordial, her father cool but polite.
Veronica and Eli dashed in and out, both having previous engagements.
When Stefan asked if he might take Bryony for a walk in the gardens, her father reluctantly gave his permission.
“We still have a problem,” she said, as they stepped outside. “What if my father refuses to let us wed?”
“We will worry about that if it happens,” he said, drawing her into his arms. “If worse comes to worse, we will elope, as you suggested.” Taking her by the hand, they walked in the moonlight.
When they reached the gazebo, he drew her inside and they sat down.
“You dreamed of me last night,” he said.
“How did you know?”
“I was drawn into it.”
“It was so real.”
“Indeed.”
“Did you really turn someone who then killed herself?”
A muscle throbbed in his jaw. “Yes.”
“How dreadful that must have been.”
He nodded. It had been far worse than dreadful.
“I’ve seen you in the sun’s light. Why doesn’t it hurt you?”
“My mother concocted a magical potion that allows me to endure the sun’s light. It tastes vile but it allows me to walk in daylight when I wish. Fortunately, I do not have to take it often.”
“And you’ve never turned anyone else?”
“No. Let us talk of something else.”
She pressed her lips together. “Veronica and I thought we would like to marry in the Fall, if it’s all right with you and Robert.”
“Not sooner?”
“There’s much to be done. Dresses to be made. Invitations to be sent. A menu to plan.”
He grunted softly. “Anything you wish to do is fine with me.” His gaze met hers. “A taste before I go?”
She sighed as she swept her hair out of the way. His bite was gentle, as always. Her eyelids fluttered down as pleasure poured through her, warm and sensual. All too soon, he ran his tongue over the tiny wounds and lifted his head.
Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her, a slow, sweet kiss that gradually grew deeper, more intense. Abruptly, he eased away from her. Rising, he murmured, “I am not sure I can wait until Fall, fair Bryony. Will I see you tomorrow night?”
“You’d better.”
A smile, another soul-shattering kiss, and he was gone.
With a sigh, she returned to the house, happier than she had ever been in her life.
Bryony was sitting at her dressing table, brushing out her hair before bed, when she sensed Stefan’s presence. The next thing she knew, he was in the room. “Stefan! What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
“Indeed.”
She worried her lower lip between her teeth. Had he come to tell her he’d changed his mind about marrying her?
“Foolish girl.” Closing the distance between them, he knelt beside her. “I realized I had been remiss,” he said, reaching into his trousers’ pocket.
“Oh?”
He nodded as he withdrew a small white box and handed it to her. “I neglected to give you a token of my affection when I asked you to be my wife. I hope this will suffice.”
Bryony let out a gasp when she lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a bed of snowy white velvet lay the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. Diamonds set in gold surrounded a blood-red ruby. “Oh, Stefan,” she murmured. “It’s exquisite.”
Taking the ring from the box, he slipped it on her finger. “I am pleased that you like it.”
“I love it,” she said, turning her hand this way and that so that the diamonds reflected the lamp light. “And I love you.”
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat down on the bench beside her. “I cannot wait to make you mine.”
With a sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder. He had never been married before, she mused. But surely he had known many other women in his long life. She told herself it didn’t matter. She was the only one he had loved enough to wed.
He stood, carrying her with him, cradling her to his chest. “It is late, my sweet. Until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she murmured, and wished the wedding was only days away instead of months.
“It is my wish also.” He glanced at the bed, wishing he could lay beside her and make love to her all through the night.
Bryony followed his gaze, some of her eagerness swallowed up in a sudden nervousness.
She knew little of what went on between a man and a woman.
It was not openly talked of, but she had caught snatches of whispered conversations now and then.
Some women complained of having to submit to their husband’s advances.
A few found pleasure in the arms of their mates.
She had heard there was sometimes pain, that some men were cruel and demanding, with no regard for their wives’ care or comfort or pleasure.
She slid a sideways glance at Stefan. What kind of lover would he be?
He carried her to the bed and sat down, still holding her in his arms. “You have no need to fear,” he said, lightly stroking her hair. “I will not hurt you.” He kissed her cheek, then stood, letting her body slide intimately down the length of his own. “Until tomorrow, my beloved.”
He kissed her one more time and then he was gone.
Bryony stared at her bed and felt her cheeks grow hot as she imagined herself lying there locked in Stefan’s arms, touching him, tasting him, letting her hands explore the width of his shoulders, his broad chest and flat belly.
Letting him run his hands over her. She slammed the door on her imagination before it went any further.
But she couldn’t help smiling as she crawled under the covers.
Soon, she thought, soon her curiosity about the rest of his anatomy would be satisfied.
The thought made her cheeks burn hotter even as she wondered if Veronica ever entertained the same wicked thoughts about Robert.