Chapter 15 #2
Not long after, Maia found herself in the deepest, warmest, most fragrant bath she could ever recall having. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she rested back against its edge, as pleasure washed over her, followed by confusion and anger and a variety of other emotions.
She’d sent the maid away as soon as she slid into the bath, telling her to return only when she rang for her. Maia needed time alone.
She could scarcely account for everything that had happened since yesterday afternoon—for the sun was just rising and it was a new day.
Come to think of it, she could scarcely comprehend everything that had happened, and that she’d experienced, since Corvindale became her reluctant guardian.
Everything from the existence of vampires, to being attacked, fed upon and kidnapped by them…
along with her sister becoming engaged to one of them, who had become mortal once again.
In her exhausted and confused state, she could no longer ignore the loneliness she often forced herself to disregard, that sense of having no one with whom she could truly talk and share the things that worried her.
She let it all pour out in tears, silent and furious recriminations punctuated by violent splashes, and even a rash of prayerful words directed to Above.
Maia was grateful for the steamy water, for she used it to wash away the tears of frustration and anger and confusion, and when she was finished, she rang for the maid.
Determined to be as strong and resilient as she always was—for if she weren’t, no one else would be—Maia allowed the maid to wash her hair and to thoroughly bathe her before helping her out of the tub.
Her dress, shift and corset were replaced by ones from Rubey, and despite Maia’s suspicion they’d be scandalous, she was pleased to find the garments tasteful and stylish.
Shortly after, her damp hair pinned in a loose braid over one side of her neck, strategically placed to hide the marks there, Maia found herself in a parlor-like chamber, waiting for she wasn’t certain what.
Rubey came in, looking fresh and elegant in a light green dress of muslin. She was carrying a tray and that was when Maia realized how hungry she was.
“I’ve met your sister,” Rubey said, offering Maia a short glass filled with amber liquid. “Here, a bit of the Irish gold for you, as me papa called it,” she explained when Maia hesitated. “After what you’ve been through, you should have twice as much.”
Maia took it and sipped the burning liquid as her hostess arranged cheese and bread on a small plate and offered it to her.
“You’ve met Angelica?” Maia asked, sipping more of what she presumed was whisky. Rubey was right, it made her feel better. Warmer and a bit looser.
“She was here some time ago with Voss,” Rubey explained as Maia nibbled on the cheese. “The night of the masquerade ball where the vampires attacked. By the by, Dimitri has sent word to her you’re found and safe.”
“I appreciate knowing that. Thank you. You seem more than a bit familiar with the Dracule,” Maia said, and noticed for the first time Rubey had bite marks on her neck, just below the ear. The sight reminded her of her own experience, and her stomach did a little flutter. “Are you one of them?”
“Stars, no, and I wouldn’t if they asked me. In fact, they have,” Rubey added with a wave of her hand. “I’ve been offered more than once to turn Dracule, and I’ve declined every time. Why would I want to live forever, and then be damned at the end of time?”
Maia flinched at the woman’s use of the blunt word, but found herself fascinated nevertheless. Here was someone who might actually answer her questions without prevarication. “Is that truly how it is?”
Rubey nodded gravely. “It’s unnatural, is what I say to Giordan.
He’s kind enough to me, and visits frequently when he’s in London, but I’m merely a replacement for—someone else.
And who’d want to live forever, anyway? The same, day after day after day?
Everyone you know and love, dying without you, while you’re staying the same?
Everything dies, everything has a season and a cycle—that’s the way God made it.
I don’t mind a few gray hairs, either. But the sagging I can do without.
” She flashed a bit of a smile as she made a subtle gesture to her bosom.
Maia nearly blushed, but the woman was perhaps a decade or more older than she, and apparently sagging was a concern. “Do you mean to say Corvindale has made a pact with the devil? And that’s how he’s become a vampire?”
“They all have, for one reason or another, made such an agreement. But Dimitri has been trying to break the covenant for over a hundred years. That’s why he studies so much, and why he refuses to drink or feed from mortals. Although”—her eyes glinted—“that appears to have changed.”
Maia’s cheeks warmed. “He certainly didn’t want to, but it was the only way I could think to get him out of there. He was too weak to stand.”
Rubey’s eyes widened. “Do you mean to say you saved Dimitri’s life? Oh, how he must have loved that!”
Maia blushed more. “I can’t say that’s the whole of it, but—”
She stopped as the parlor door opened.
“Speak of the devil,” Rubey said slyly, garnering her a sharp, annoyed glance from Corvindale.
He strode in as if he owned the place and helped himself to a glass of the same whisky Maia had tasted.
His serving was much more generous than hers.
After a brief survey of the chamber—which was furnished with a sofa, where Maia sat facing two armchairs, one of which was occupied by their hostess, he disdained all of the seating possibilities and remained standing near a tall, narrow table to her left.
The expression on his face was haughty and removed, as always. But Maia found herself unable to keep anticipation from fluttering in her middle as she looked at him. His very presence changed the energy in the room, shrinking it, making it warmer. More interesting.
He’d obviously bathed as well, for his hair was damp and spiked in sharp points around the collar of his pristine white shirt.
He stood holding his drink, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to display dark-haired skin the color of suntanned leather.
Elegant wrists connected strong, wide hands to muscular forearms, and Maia knew fully well the shape and girth of his upper arms and shoulders.
She swallowed and averted her gaze from the loose ties at the throat of his shirt where just a hint of dark hair showed.
“Enlightening your guest with the darkest secrets of my race, are you, Rubey?” His words might have been light if it weren’t for the way his eyes bored into the titian-haired woman.
She didn’t seem to mind. “She was just telling me how it all happened. Quite a story.”
“I’m certain she was,” he replied without glancing at Maia. “But it was beyond foolish of her to become involved in the matter. Things would have worked out much better if she’d simply stayed home.”
Maia went rigid. “If it weren’t for me, Lord Corvindale,” she said in her iciest voice, “no one would have known about the ruby hairpin. Which is what led me to investigate Mrs. Throckmullins.”
“And there’s where you went wrong, Miss Woodmore. You should never have been investigating anyone. Dewhurst and Cale had things well in hand. They would have found me soon enough.”
Maia could not hold back an improper snort. “I merely went for an afternoon call—”
“Nor should you have gone alone.”
“I didn’t go alone, you dratted man. Do you think I have feathers for brains?
I had three footmen with me. How was I to know Mrs. Throckmullins was your former mistress, and that she would have invited me into tea and then poisoned me?
I certainly couldn’t have brought three footmen into her parlor, now, could I? ”
He raised the whisky. “Very well. I stand corrected. You could have done nothing to prevent Lerina from drugging and abducting you.”
Maia drew herself up even more, ignoring the avid interest on Rubey’s face.
“Just as you could have done nothing to prevent her from abducting you. Because of course, being the Earl of Corvindale, you know all and see all, and could clearly foresee every possible circumstance. Which is precisely why you ended up in the condition in which I found you.”
Rubey drew in a sharp intake of breath that sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh.
“Furthermore,” Maia continued, unable to stop herself, “if I hadn’t managed not only to free myself from being chained to a chaise lounge and then gone in search of you, you would probably be dead by now from loss of blood.”
“Dracule don’t die from loss of blood,” he sneered.
“Even when tied up by ruby necklaces?”
“You were tied up by rubies, Dimitri?” Their hostess looked much too intrigued by such a concept, her eyes narrowing contemplatively. “Now there’s a fascinating idea.”
“Is my carriage here yet?” Corvindale snarled at her. “Perhaps you ought to go check.”
“Oh, but I find this conversation very stimulating.”
“Go.” He didn’t roar, but the room vibrated as if he had. Rubey rose reluctantly and started toward the door, not at all cowed.
But Maia wasn’t finished; no indeed. She had so much to say to the arrogant, impossible, infuriating man in front of her, she didn’t know if she’d be done in a week. “And then you throw a stake at me—”
“I threw it at the vampire who was holding you—”
“You could have stabbed me!”
“Of course I wouldn’t have, you addled woman. Do you think I’m completely incompetent? I knew precisely what I was doing, as is evident by the fact that you are here, intact, and so am I.”
“And then you jump through a second-story window,” Maia continued, her mind blazing with fury, the words tumbling out, “and take me with you! We could have been killed!”
“Dracule don’t die from a fall—”