Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Thomas could see that some profound emotion had suddenly taken root within Lord Cameron Dwight Ashford. The evidence of it had briefly masked his face, like a cloud passing across the sun.
“What should I remember?” Thomas asked again, confused by the shift in their conversation and Lord Ashford’s not so discreet reaction.
Cameron held up a palm and shook his head.
“Nothing at all. My apologies for being presumptuous.” He quickly rolled his shoulders before speaking further.
“You asked why I initiated this arrangement. My parents were threatening to disinherit me. They told me that if I didn’t choose a partner by my fortieth birthday, they’d remove me as their primary heir and give everything to my sister.
And my sister wants nothing to do with running this estate, nor Upper Avalon, so I was being pressured. To put it mildly.”
In Eden, there was a stigma about vampires of a certain age remaining unbonded.
As a purebred drifted closer to one hundred, they were expected to settle down and find a bonding partner.
Lord Ashford was still young in vampire years.
To saddle him with this burden when he was only forty felt unwarranted.
While this explanation answered Thomas’s original question, it was obvious that something significant was being omitted.
Something Thomas had allegedly forgotten.
My apologies for being presumptuous… Lord Ashford had swept it beneath the theoretical rug of their conversation so hastily and forcefully that it seemed uncouth to intentionally poke at it.
Thomas wanted to poke at it, badly, but decided to leave it for now. “Your parents were going to disown you if you didn’t find a mate, so you found one.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Okay… So, why me? Why did you pay my fathers for me, specifically?” Did Thomas seem like an easy and weak target? Someone cheap and quick to acquire in Cameron’s haste to avoid total dispossession? He wanted to know the full truth of his circumstance.
Because sitting across from this broad, tall, obviously wealthy and attractive purebred man that smelled of ginger and honey, it didn’t make sense to him. Thomas was certain that Lord Ashford could have had anyone he desired.
So, how did they end up here?
Did it have something to do with whatever he wasn’t remembering?
Cameron hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck once more. A nervous impulse, Thomas noted. “Well, to be honest, I thought you might not be too… exasperating.” He lifted his light hazel gaze. Thomas stared at him in silence, utterly taken aback.
That was not the answer he’d been expecting.
“What does that mean?” Thomas asked.
Cameron lifted his palms. “Many purebreds within our aristocracy are very… chatty? Sometimes egotistical—”
“Sometimes?” Thomas interrupted with his eyebrow lifted.
Lord Ashford smiled in a clipped laugh. “Yes, right. Almost always egotistical.”
“A more accurate estimation. Go on.”
“They’re constantly seeking validation from anyone and everyone, and I find that kind of behavior exhausting. I simply thought that you… might not be that way? Or, if you were chatty, you’d at least have interesting things to say.”
Huh. Thomas quietly took that in, not knowing what to make of it. Why should he of all vampires have anything particularly interesting to say? He’d need to digest and unpack that later to decide how he felt.
“To be clear, I will not make demands of you,” Lord Ashford went on, hastily filling the silence.
“You are free to enjoy the estate as you please, and my sincere wish is that you will be comfortable here. If there’s anything you need, you may ask Lennon and he’ll do his best to accommodate you.
This is your home now, and as you mentioned, the bonding contract is paid and signed, so nothing further needs to happen. ”
Thomas tilted his head. That last part was oddly worded, and it stuck out like a sore thumb. Lord Ashford was dancing around the entire objective of a bonding contract. Thomas met his gaze. “So, you do not wish to have sex, feed nor bond with me.”
Lord Ashford’s round eyes went impossibly wide.
“No, we do not need to do any of that. Ever. As I said, the contract is secure, and my parents won’t contest it because on paper, I have a mate.
And I’ve paid the dowry to your fathers, so I doubt they would care, either.
However long it takes us to… or, rather, would take us, if we were trying—but we’re not, to be clear—if we…
” Cameron blew out a breath. “I’m making an absolute mess of this. ”
Thomas was sitting across from a man who had specifically petitioned and paid to be in a bonding arrangement with him, and yet, he had no interest in bonding.
What a strange, horrific and fascinating life he was living.
“Please don’t take any of this personally,” Cameron went on, rambling quite brilliantly.
“I don’t—I am not generally attracted to anyone, and I find that I am a strange vampire compared with my peers.
But I thought… My hope is that we could live amicably?
The blood bags you’ve been receiving from the boutique will be delivered here and paid for with my accounts, so feeding will never be an issue.
There are no set responsibilities for you.
Thus, you are free to live a life of your choosing.
Perhaps in some ways, this could be a relief to you? Possibly?”
The openly pleading expression on Cameron’s face pulled at something fragile and small inside of Thomas.
Constantly, he was angry at life for the cruel hand he’d been dealt.
For his ill-fated first love, his torturous imprisonment and starvation, his vicious father and his being sold off without his consent like prized cattle.
But this man sitting in front of him was truly… sincere. Nakedly so, to the point where it felt shameful for Thomas to look at him dead on. As if his cynical mind and battered heart might be burned from the bright warmth of his earnestness.
Thomas didn’t know how to take any of this. For now, though, he understood that he should at least help the poor man to relax.
“Okay,” Thomas said simply, calming his features as best he could.
Lord Ashford blinked, uncertain. “Okay?”
Thomas attempted a weak smile. It felt foreign and probably looked that way, too. He’d forgotten how to do it. “Yes, all of that sounds fine to me. Thank you for explaining.”
It was as if a weight had lifted from Lord Ashford’s shoulders.
He exhaled a breath and rubbed his palms down his face.
“Okay. Good… and you’re welcome.” He dropped his hands, then lifted his gaze.
“Will you have dinner with me? If you’re not hungry, it’s fine—again, there is no pressure if you don’t want—”
“Yes,” Thomas answered, stopping Lord Ashford before he could work himself up again. He stood from the loveseat. “We can have dinner together.”
The two sat quietly at the table. A comfortable silence.
Thomas was lost in his own thoughts, processing their earlier conversation and this odd situation.
Lord Ashford, he assumed, was probably thrilled to be left alone and not provoked into further discussion while they ate.
Or not ate, in Thomas’s case. He had a bite or three.
Social anxiety… Thomas had never personally known a vampire with such a condition, but he’d heard of it before.
When Thomas was younger and had ardently kept up with Eden’s social goings-on, he’d known of Lord Cameron Dwight Ashford, of course.
In those days he was expected to know prominent names, faces and houses as part of his high-bred, aristocratic tutelage.
He knew of Lord Ashford, but never anything tangible about him. He was a well-regarded figure, but rarely spoken of. Always floating just beyond the radar of the social scene and everyone’s attention. Clearly, this was intentional on Cameron’s part.
Thomas glanced up from his hearty plate of lemon and herb seafood pasta to discreetly regard the purebred across from him.
Were they to be roommates, then? When Thomas considered it, he didn’t mind this arrangement at all.
He’d been purchased as a kind of mask for Lord Ashford.
A placeholder to ward off his parents’ (and sister’s?) persecution.
There were worse things. Thomas had lived through much worse.
“What book are you reading, if I may ask?” Lord Ashford inquired, cautiously breaking the silence. “Lennon told me you’ve found something in the library that interests you.”
Lennon watches me and reports my activities to him. Good to know. “I’ve been reading The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas.”
“A very good choice. Is this your first time reading it?”
“No,” Thomas said, setting his fork aside and giving up on the pretense of eating. “But I find that I’m in the mood for a good vengeance story. The relentless evisceration of one’s enemies.”
Lord Ashford’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh? Should… I be worried?”
Thomas huffed. “I don’t believe so. Do you plan to become my enemy?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then all will be well,” Thomas assured him. He rolled his shoulders and sat back, watching as Cameron used his fork to idly poke at the last bits of his pasta.
“That is a relief,” he said, offering a tentative smile. “Do you have many enemies, then?”
“Not many. Only one.”
“Oh…” Lord Ashford paused, taking his final bite and using the moment to contemplate his next words. Thomas took a sip of wine. Whether they continued down the path of this conversation or not was completely up to his new roommate. It made no difference to Thomas, and he had nothing to hide.
“So… who is this one person that has scorned you so absolutely?” Lord Ashford asked.
“My eldest father. Although, the younger is not completely innocent.”
Thomas wasn’t sure what he was expecting as far as reactions went, but Cameron simply nodded in understanding.
“Forgive me for saying so, but he does seem like a rather unpleasant purebred—your elder father, I mean.”
“No forgiveness is necessary,” Thomas said. “You do not know the half of it.”
“Are you resentful of him because of this arrangement?” Cameron ventured. Noticeably, his posture and body became rigid. His gaze was intensely focused on his nearly empty plate. “Has he forced your hand in this?”
“He has, but I am resentful of much, much more. His transgressions toward me are deeper and more heinous than the arrangement of a marriage bond without my consent. You needn’t worry about that.
” Thomas took another sip of his white wine as the familiar fury, injustice and contempt churned deep within his being.
What he wouldn’t give to have his revenge. To masterfully architect a divine plot in which everything his father owned came crashing down around him. Where everything he ever desired would never be achieved—his sincerest wishes falling just beyond his pale and monstrous grasp.
“Thank you for disclosing this to me, and I… I do apologize for this. For the disgraceful nature under which our arrangement has been formed.”
Blinking, Thomas met his eyes, the words having broken the dark trance within his mind. “You asked,” he said plainly. “And there’s no need for an apology. These arrangements are common in Eden.”
“I… Yes. Yes, they are. Regardless, I do appreciate your honesty.” Cameron sighed.
That strange cloud of emotion briefly graced his countenance yet again.
Subtly, he shook his head as if he were discarding a thought.
He met Thomas’s eyes. “Are you plotting vengeance against your father now? Perhaps you are reading The Count of Monte Cristo for inspiration.”
Thomas smirked. “More fervent wishing than actual plotting, unfortunately. I want him to suffer, primarily, but I haven’t the power nor authority to orchestrate such a circumstance.”
Lord Ashford nodded solemnly. As if he understood the matter all too well.
“You’re taking this in stride,” Thomas remarked. “You don’t find any of this… surprising?” Did he often come across vampires who casually spoke of murdering their fathers?
“Well, I prefer to stay in my home and avoid other vampires within the aristocracy for a reason,” Lord Ashford explained. “So, no, none of this surprises me. But I am dismayed that you have obviously experienced much cruelty at your elder father’s hand.”
Lord Ashford folded his arms and sat back more comfortably. “If you settle on a plan and decide to execute it, I will provide a solid alibi should the authorities come around.”
A genuine bark of amusement escaped Thomas’s throat. The sound and sensation popped out of him so unexpectedly that he smiled in its wake. Lord Ashford must have been taken aback by it as well, because he met Thomas’s eyes, then slowly grinned.
“Well, thank you,” Thomas managed, beguiled by the kind, albeit hypothetical, offer.
“You are welcome,” he said.