Chapter 9 #2
“Ah, actually, no—I… My sister is planning something, I believe,” Cameron said. Tension pulled at his shoulders as he steeled himself and went on. “There will be a formal party at the end of next month, I think. I don’t know any of the details, but word will be sent soon.”
Shit. Cameron felt as if he was being backed into a corner. A party was bad enough, but a party and a parade? A full day of loud celebration, raucous events and attention? He’d have to hibernate in his rooms for a month to recuperate.
“Oh, a formal event at the Winters’ estate would be magical in its own right,” Jane said, smiling. Gracia nodded in firm agreement. “We’ll look forward to hearing more details, then.”
Cameron returned home well in advance of lunch, so he went to his office for some downtime and requested a cappuccino and a muffin. When a knock came fifteen minutes later, Cameron was surprised to see Mira, Thomas’s maidservant, stepping through the office door with a tray.
She smiled and dipped her head politely. “Your grace.”
Cameron stood to receive her. “Oh, hello. Where is Lennon?”
“He went to the market in uptown with Miles. Sulee needed some items for dinner and they were awaiting your return with the car. Where would you like this?” She hovered between his desk and the small table near his bookshelves.
“There, please. Thank you, Mira.”
She walked to the table flanked by the comfy pair of chairs.
“It’s my pleasure.” She was wearing the slacks and comfortable sweater that he offered his staff in the winter months.
Cameron hadn’t cared about formal uniforms after it became clear that his parents had abandoned him to run the estate and lands on his own.
But Lennon had been adamant about keeping a certain level of propriety as a noble house.
Eventually they’d compromised. If Lennon insisted on everyone wearing uniforms, Cameron insisted that said uniforms be casual.
“How are you settling in?” Cameron ventured. He’d barely spoken to her outside of shallow greetings when they passed each other in the halls. She was another new stranger living in his home. He should probably make an effort to know her.
Mira bowed again. Her dark and buoyant curls were pulled back in a long ponytail at the nape of her neck.
The length of it fell over her shoulder with the gesture.
“Very well, Lord Ashford. Thank you for permitting me to have these new clothes. And my room is spacious and warm as well. Everything—and, well, everyone is so lovely.”
Her smile waned as she took a breath. Hesitating. “And I… I’m sure Sir Thomas feels the same way. He just needs time.”
A sudden and unexpected melancholy settled in the atmosphere.
Cameron thought back to Thomas’s intense reaction when he’d opened the door to the secret stairwell yesterday.
It was as if the man had gone into a state of shock.
He’d been rigid with fear or distress. And his skin had turned even paler than it usually was.
And then he’d laughed maniacally and cried. Cameron had no clue what to make of any of it. None of this was his business, he supposed. Even still, he found that he was curious.
No, he cared. About Thomas and the things going on with him.
“Mira, why doesn’t Thomas speak to you?” Cameron had heard about this from Lennon and seen it for himself. Mira would enter a room, and Thomas wouldn’t even acknowledge her presence, let alone speak to her. He’d act as if she wasn’t there.
Cameron might have initially taken this as snobbery toward the working staff (since lots of purebreds in Eden were guilty of it). But then he’d witnessed Thomas being not only polite but kind to Cameron’s own staff. The juxtaposition in his behavior was palpable.
Mira twisted her hands in front of her and avoided Cameron’s eyes.
“Sir Thomas feels betrayed by me and others in his household—as he should, I think. However… I-I do care deeply for him and his well-being. Of course I do, but I’m not sure how I can make things right between us. I don’t know if it’s possible.”
Mira looked up and met Cameron’s mutually perplexed stare.
He wanted to know why Thomas felt betrayed—one innocent curiosity leading to another, like plunging down a rabbit hole.
It was obvious that Mira was withholding the reason.
He respected her for being discreet, though, lest she betray Thomas again with truths that were not her own to disclose.
“You don’t need to tell me what happened to him,” Cameron offered, hoping to set her mind at ease.
“Just… if you wish to offer any insight on how I might help with making Thomas feel more comfortable here at the estate, know that I would welcome it.” He was thinking about Thomas’s strong reaction to the secret stairwell.
His lack of appetite and apparent frailty.
Mira nodded, seemingly finding meaning within Cameron’s vague words.
“I think… I’m not absolutely certain, but Sir Thomas had never fed from bags until there was a specific incident.
It was the first time he’d been… well, required to feed that way.
Before that time, he’d only fed from other vampires.
I think something about the bags is making him ill?
No—not ill. Perhaps mentally, it’s affecting him?
Constantly being reminded of the incident. ”
Required? Cameron couldn’t conceal the confusion likely written on his face. The word was ambiguous and could mean anything depending on the surrounding context. “So… you’re suggesting that he might prefer feeding from a natural source? Directly from another vampire?”
“I believe so, yes. He—he hasn’t said as much, but it’s just…
if it were me, I might be sensitive to bags in the wake of what I’d gone through.
Feeding from another vampire again might help him to regain a sense of normalcy, or closure?
That the event which caused this new necessity is over and done with. ”
With his arms folded, Cameron quietly absorbed everything.
Aside from his parents and when he was very young, he’d only ever fed from bags.
He hardly knew of anything else, so it didn’t bother him to feed artificially.
However, he supposed that if bags were suddenly thrust upon a vampire—no, required—it might be another thing entirely.
“Thank you for talking with me, Mira,” Cameron offered, then walked over to the small table to take a seat there. His cappuccino was getting cold. “I do hope that the two of you can reconcile things between you. If you need anything in the meantime, feel free to let us know.”
“It’s my pleasure.” She dipped her head, her soft smile returned. “Thank you, my lord, for inquiring about Sir Thomas. You are very kind, and he… Sir Thomas desperately needs kindness in his life now. I’m grateful that we’ve ended up here.”
Mira turned, then swiftly moved toward the door before Cameron could say another word.
When he took a sip of his cappuccino, it was lukewarm. He frowned. That’s what I get for being nosy. As he took another sip, he turned over everything Mira had said in his mind.
Thomas the Ever Inquisitive would benefit from a natural source.
His blood bags might be causing him distress.
Cameron exhaled a weighted sigh. The prospect of these potential truths was daunting. This spontaneously coordinated, on-paper arrangement was quickly shifting into something else entirely.
Even still, Cameron wanted Thomas to be contented within his house. For Thomas and Mira to eventually patch things up, and for Thomas to feel safe and maybe even heal from whatever obvious unkindness he’d experienced in his home estate.
As Cameron took a bite of his muffin, he decided that there was no use in stressing. He’d cross whatever bridges he needed to when they were erected before him.