Caressed by Moonlight (9 page)

He growled and snatched up her hands.

“You are a stubborn woman, Victoria Kingston. I am willing to give you everything you want, yet you spite yourself by refusing my match and for some reason that is based on speculation. I could surprise you, I could be the best husband in the history of the world, but you wouldn't give me the chance.”

He could give her all that she wanted. Margaret would be taken care of and that was what was really truly important. She was willing to sacrifice her happiness to a stranger for her sister, so why could she not sacrifice it to the one man in all of London that she knew best? Did it matter that he didn’t love her? He was the answer to all her problems. He would take care of her and Margaret. They would have a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and that’s what mattered.

Swallowing her pride was hard, but she managed to say,

“You are right. I am being foolish. I realize that this marriage is not for me, but for my sister and you meet all my requirements for a husband.”

“You will not regret your decision.”

His smile promised ecstasy.

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Chapter Thirteen

Dorian mounted the steps of his home, the storm still raged and the rain pounded down. He reached for the knob and found an envelope tucked neatly above it. He plucked the paper from its resting place and continued into the house. He removed his drenched over coat and placed it on a hook to dry.

“Good morning, sir,” Ophelia said as she brushed past him, on her way to the kitchen.

He nodded in greeting before pushing open the doors of his study. He emptied his pockets on the desk and sighed as he went to the fire. It was madness, pure madness. That was the only way to explain his actions.

He glanced over to the marriage license that now sat on his desk.

Raphael had been right; he had gone insane. Dorian sighed and rubbed his temples. In his panic he asked a mortal woman to bind herself to him, a vampire. His lust had driven him to this, but he would never go back on his word.

Dorian unseeingly gazed into the flames. He was no mortal man; he had nothing to offer a wife. He could not give her children or a love to last throughout her lifetime. She would grow old and die and he would live forever. He had to keep their time together short and that reality hurt.

Deciding that no good could come from his thoughts, he turned his attention to the issue of home. Dorian went to his desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out the letter he had received and ripped the night before. He tossed it into the fire and watched as it shriveled and turned to ash. Then, his thoughts shifted to the envelope that he had found on his door. Dorian broke the wax seal.

His eyes turned black as he read. Mark had nerve and it was going to get him killed. The witch taunted him with the announcement of more of his clansmen’s deaths and more threats on Victoria’s life.

“Damn it,” he whispered, crumbling the paper in his fist.

What was he to do now?
She is human and humans are easily
killed
. He had no doubt that Mark and the other hunters of the Red Order would go after her. The witch had plainly stated that he was willing to harm Victoria to get to him.

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His eyes glistened with a deadly light as he calmly fed the note to the flames. He wished he had killed more hunters this morning; maybe the dwindling number of witches would humble Mark.

“Vlakhos?” Victoria's sweet voice called from the doorway.

He took in a deep soothing breath while he tried to force his rage back in its cage. He could never allow her to see the monster in him. She could never know who or what he is. Dorian ran a hand through his hair and fixed his lips in the most charming smile he could manage as he turned to face her.

“You are up early, kitten. It is barely past dawn, could you not sleep?”

As she came further into the room the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. There was a power in the large study, dark and threatening. It thickened the air like smoke and made it difficult to breath. The energy was ancient and capable of terrible deeds. It pressed down on her with such a force she grew dizzy.

“Are you well?” Dorian asked watching her carefully as she stumbled toward him. “You are very pale.”

She clutched his shirt trying desperately to stable herself,

“I am just a little light headed.”

“It must be from all the stress and excitement,” he said, helping her to the sofa. “You should sit.”

“Do you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

She glanced about the room. The malevolent energy vanished.

“Nothing, my mind is just playing tricks on me.”

Dorian said nothing as he silently cursed himself for exposing his power to her. How could he have been so careless?

The pressure of his strength had claimed the lives of both humans and vampires, when they were too close. He could not slip again.

“Mr. Vlakhos–”

“Please call me Dorian. We are soon to be husband and wife and I think it is safe for us to use our given names.”

“Of course, Dorian,” she said with a light laugh.

He swept an arm about her waist and pulled her close.

“My name on your lips is like honey to my ears,” he whispered.

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She blushed and rolled her eyes. “Dorian really,” she sighed.

“I'm being honest.”

“You are a terrible flirt.”

“I thought I was the best.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze before pulling away. He would have her soon enough, she would be his wife by the end of the day and his lover by the end of the night. “You will be pleased to know that after you retired last night I went out and acquired a special license that will permit us to marry straight away without skipping off to elope.”

“How?” she asked incredulously.

“Let's just say I have an influence over very influential men. I also have arranged for Father Samuel to stop by the house later this afternoon so we can recite our vows.”

“You have thought of everything, haven't you?” Her eyes turned down to her hands, resting in her lap.

Dorian kneeled on the floor before her and tilted her chin up with his index finger.

“Is this what you want, Victoria?” he asked. The question, however, was more for his peace of mind than hers. He could not tell her that he was a vampire, but he could give her plenty of opportunities to change her mind. Damn, when had he become so chivalrous?

“I have given it a lot of thought and, yes, this is what I want.”

“You want to marry me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He kissed her brow. Dorian knew that he should not take what she said to heart, but he could not help it.

“Then we shall be wed this afternoon.”

“What of Margaret? I would love for her to be at the wedding.”

“Her presence would make the hasty tying of the knot perfect,” he agreed. “But do you think we can snatch her from your aunt's grasp without proof of your new found support?”

Victoria sighed, he was right in his assumption. Nelly had not allowed Margaret to set one foot outside her front door since they moved in. Why would she let her leave and attend her older sister’s wedding?

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It was done. The words had been spoken before three witnesses, Ophelia, Dobbins, and a chimney sweep that had been passing by. The license was signed and a large delicious meal was planed for the celebration. It was so amazing that Victoria had wondered if this match was meant to be.

The coach rolled down the streets of London at a leisurely pace. The sun had set and the stars of twilight were beginning to twinkle. Victoria wringed her fingers nervously as they came closer to Aunt Nelly's house, she knew the woman would not give Margaret up easily.

She gave an unhappy sigh as the coach pulled to a stop before her aunt's home. Dobbins swung down and opened the door.

Dorian exited and helped her down.

“You have the license?” she hurriedly asked.

He chuckled and patted his coat pocket. “For the third time, yes, you have nothing to worry about.”

She nodded and allowed him to lead her up the steps. The door was promptly answered and they were shown into the drawing room where Nelly, Lord and Lady Hennings, and the two Wisten women, sat.

“Victoria, it is nice to see you,” Tabitha said with a smile.

“This is a surprise,” Lady Hennings added. “Nelly said you would not be joining us.”

“I'm not.”

“Good evening,” Dorian said with a respectful nod of his head.

“What are you doing here?” Nelly said, her eyes narrowing, her focus on Dorian.

“Excuse me, madam, I have not introduced myself, I am Prince Dorian Vlakhos.”

“Yes, you are the Prince,” she scoffed, “that has been bedding and ruining all of London, including my wretched niece.”

“That's a lie,” he stated, his voice cold and elegant, his face as set as stone. Every eye in the room was now upon him.

“How dare you come to my home? You no longer belong here.” Her attention was entirely on Victoria now.

“I have come for my sister,” Victoria said, her shoulders squared, she was ready for battle.

“You can't have her. She belongs to me.”

“She is not a piece of land that you can just stake a claim to,” Victoria snapped. “She is a human being.”

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“You dare raise your voice to me, you little whore, in front of my guests,” Nelly snarled coming to her feet.

“I don't think that name calling is necessary,” Dorian interjected.

Nelly sneered as she came to stand before Dorian. “There is no need to defend her. She does not need your protection.

Besides, I'm quite certain that she has manipulated you and tricked you into love, just like her bitch of a mother did to my brother. You waste your time with this one. She may be a pleasure to have in your bed, but she will ruin your life. Kick her to the curb before you are trapped.”

“She has not tricked me, madam, and she certainly is not a waste of my time,” he said between clenched teeth.

“You are a fool. Think about it man, if she was willing to crawl into bed with you, how many others would she gladly join?”

The room gasped at the woman's words.

“You know as well as I that your words are false,” Victoria shot back.

“Are you ashamed, is that why your anger is pricked now?” Nelly taunted. “It is about time you pay for what you have done.”

“I have done nothing wrong!”

“You ruined my brother. You are the reason he married that tramp.”

“Stop insulting my mother.”

“It is no insult if one speaks the truth.”

“Perhaps we should return another night.” Lord Hennings said as he stood.

“No!” Nelly shouted. “I will not allow my dinner party to be ruined because the Devil and his mistress have come.”

What a lovely comparison,
Dorian thought.

“Get out of my house,” Nelly demanded.

“Not without the girl,” Dorian declared.

“You can’t have her. I would have thought that your wench would have told you the terms of her loss.”

“She did.”

“Then you know that the girl’s well being is in my hands.”

“Ms. Margaret is only to be given to you if Ms. Kingston cannot provide for her.”

“And she can’t.”

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He casually shrugged as he reached into his coat pocket.

“Sadly, that’s true.” Nelly’s lips widened in an unholy smile believing she had won. “But I can.”

The smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. “What?”

Dorian held the legal document out to her. “This is our marriage license. She is no longer the orphaned Ms. Victoria Kingston, but Princess Victoria Vlakhos.”

All the guests started in shock and Lady Wisten swooned in her seat. The entire room was speechless, with the exception of Nelly. She snatched the parchment from Dorian’s grasp and looked it over.

“You whore hound!” she railed. “You can’t just swoop in and take–”

“I am titled and possess much wealth. I am more than capable of providing for the Kingston women. Now,” he turned to Victoria. “Go collect your sister and her things.”

Victoria squeezed his hand and smiled, giving him a silent thank you, then hurried up the stairs. Dorian took the license back and folded the paper as neatly as he could and stuffed it back in his pocket.

“You have made a huge mistake. She is no good, I tell you, no good.”

“I will be the judge of that.” He stepped closer to her and hushed his voice so that his next words would be heard by her only. “From this day forward you will have nothing to do with these two women. Bother them in anyway and I will see you stripped of your title and possessions.”

“You threatening me boy?” she hissed like a snake.

“No, I’m warning you.”

Victoria quickly returned hand and hand with cheerful Margaret, who hugged her doll. Both Kingston girls carried a tattered bag stuffed full of their meager belongings.

“Goodbye, Aunt Nelly,” Margaret said with a curtsy.

Nelly took an unsteady step forward, raised her hand and prepared to strike Victoria. Dorian caught her wrist.

“We will be leaving now,” he said, his jaw clenched.

“Good evening to you all.”

The new family headed to the door. Dorian wrapped a protective arm about his wife’s shoulders and Victoria clutched Margaret’s hand lightly within her own.

“Congratulations,” Tabitha called after them. Her mother, who shot her a disapproving glare, stomped on her foot.

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“I hope they have a long, miserable marriage,” Nelly said as her front door slammed.

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Chapter Fourteen

“He is nice,” Margaret said, pulling the covers up to her chin. “And he is handsome.”

“I'm glad you approve,” Victoria smiled as she sat on the bed.

“I can't wait to go shopping tomorrow. It should be very fun. Don't you think it will be fun? I've never been to a shop before.”

“It will be grand,” she agreed, lovingly smoothing back Margaret’s hair. “Now you must settle down, you need to get some sleep.”

Ignoring her sister's words, Margaret went on, “The food was really good, even better than the food at Aunt Nelly's house.”

“Yes, she did not like to use spices.”

“That is because she is cheap,” Margaret announced.

“Who told you that?”

“Beth would mumble it when she cooked,” the girl answered with an innocent shrug. “Do you think that we will ever go to Dorian's country? He made it sound wonderful when we talked at dinner.”

Victoria started at the question and the big green eyes that were now fixed upon her. She had never given that possibility a thought. He was a prince of a far off country and he would have to return some day. But when he did go back would he take them or would he leave them behind? A death like chill settled in her bones as she was consumed with the feeling of abandonment.

“Tory?” Margaret asked.

“I'm sorry,” Victoria said shaking her head, clearing away her thoughts. “I don't know how to answer that question.”

“I would like to see it. We could live in a castle.”

“I would like to see you go to sleep,” she said, desperately needing to change the subject.

The little girl yawned. Victoria kissed her brow and stood.

By the time she had crossed the room and closed the door Margaret had entered her own special world of dreams.

Victoria paused in the hall outside the room Ophelia had assigned her the night before. Despite the exhaustion that
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demanded she seek the comfort of her own warm bed, she decided to find Dorian. She needed to speak with him and now would be as good a time as any. She had the deep desire to ask him the same question Margaret had asked her, but why should she care if he left? She knew that he would allow them to stay in this house and give them an allowance, his honor, if nothing else, commanded it.

In fact it would be better for her if he did leave. She would no longer have to put up with his desires and lecherous ways.

She descended the stairs and was about to head down the hall to his study, where he spent most of his time, when she spotted him in the dining room. He sat at the head of the table where she had left him earlier. His face was dark, brooding, and chiseled with thought, but when his eyes met hers the darkness vanished and was replaced with his smooth polished smile.

“Is she asleep?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said taking her place beside him.

“She is a sweet girl,” he sighed. “I had no idea what a horrible woman your aunt was. I should have stolen you away and married you the first night we met. That is, of course, if you would’ve had me,” he added with a chuckle. “Would you have married me then?”

“No.” She giggled at his expression of shock.

“Well,” he said with a shrug, “If I were an intelligent woman like you I wouldn't have married me either.”

“Would you have gone for Lord Rogers?”

“Hell no!” he exclaimed with a snort. “That man is as dull as a shoe.”

Victoria laughed and Dorian could not help the completely genuine smile that crept its way across his lips. It was a glorious sound.

“I love your laugh.” His voice was deep and husky.

“And I like yours,” she replied. “You should laugh more often, it would do you some good.”

“I'll try. With you and your little rag-a-muffin sister around I don't think I will find it a straining task.”

She turned her gaze from him. This conversation was growing a little too intimate for her liking. She wished to keep her emotions as distant from him as possible. He could leave any day, at any moment, and she couldn’t and wouldn’t stop him. It would be best if she kept her feelings locked away and hidden, at least that way she would not get hurt.

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“I have an odd feeling that by tomorrow everyone in the country will know we are married.”

She smiled. “Thank you again for helping me.”

“Please, I will have no more thanks.”

She yawned and he took note of her eyes, they were not their brilliant green but dull and almost lifeless. She looked as if she would topple from the chair in a dead sleep. He sighed heavily,

“Kitten, you look absolutely drained, you should go to bed.”

“We need to talk first,” she said, all humor gone from her voice.

Dorian sat up, folded his arms over his chest, and turned his all too serious gaze upon her.

“About?”

She began nervously, “You never made it a secret that you desired me physically but I just don’t think I am ready.”

“You want to wait to consummate our marriage, is that what you are trying to say?”

“Yes,” she whispered, then she hurried to assure him, “But I have no intentions of making you wait forever. I just don't feel comfortable. I know you are my husband and it is your right.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I had this entire conversation planned in my head and nothing I say seems to be coming out right.”

He tried hard not to smile. She was adorable when she was flustered and she was even tempting when she was angry. Hell, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I want to get to know you better before we move to the next step.”

“Would you have gone to bed with Lord Rogers on the first night?”

Her nose scrunched up in repulsion and she shook her head, “No.”

Dorian chuckled and stood.

“You don’t need to know someone in order to–”

“I'm not one of those women, Dorian,” she snapped.

“That's not what I meant.”

“Good, because if it was, you could say goodbye to our marriage bed.” She stood and stomped from the room.

Men were such swine sometimes, thinking only of their own pleasure. She would not feed his ego anymore by asking him what his plans were for the future. Knowing Dorian, he would
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mistake her questions for signs of caring. That was the last thing she needed.

Victoria steamed up the stairs and flung open the door to her room and froze. Her things were missing. She had gathered what was left of her possessions from her aunt’s house and had asked Ophelia to set them up. She walked all about the room opening draws and armoire doors.

As Dorian came to the flat of the second floor he peeked inside and found his bride on her hands and knees peering under her bed, giving him a great view of her backside.

“Checking for monsters?” he asked with an amused chuckle.

Victoria straightened and turned to find Dorian leaning against the frame of the door.

“Do you recall if I brought a bag from my aunt’s?”

“You mean that tattered old brown thing?”

“The ‘thing’ is a bag,” she huffed, waving a few loose strands of hair from her face

“More like was a rag,” he said under his breath.

“What?”

“Yes and you handed it to Ophelia when we returned,” he answered with a smile.

“That is what I thought,” she sighed ignoring his amusement.

“So, what is the problem?”

“I can’t seem to find the bag or my things anywhere.”

He pushed away from the threshold and loudly cleared his throat before bellowing for Ophelia.

“Oh please don’t yell at the woman,” Victoria begged.

“I’m not going to yell at her. I am going to simply ask where she put the sack.”

“Your room is all prepared, sir,” Ophelia announced as she came down the hall.

“Ophelia, where did you place Victoria’s things?”

“In your chamber of course,” she answered with a broad smile. “Is that not where they belong?”

Dorian nodded with a light laugh and dismissed the maid.

“What do you find so funny?” Victoria demanded.

“Your things, I fear, have been unpacked in my room.”

“Oh,” Victoria whispered. “I understand why she would – I guess I will just have to move them.” She jumped to her feet and
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dusted her hands off. “Will you allow me to gather my things before you retire?”

“Why don’t we just share a room?” he asked leaning against the frame once more, his hair falling invitingly across his eyes and her fingers tingled with the desire to brush them aside.

“We are after all man and wife.”

“I believe we just had this discussion,” she said, her voice stern.

“No, we were talking about something entirely different.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There is no harm in a married couple sharing a bed. In fact, it is encouraged. Besides,” he added with a sly smile. “We need to keep up appearances. What if one of the servants shared the knowledge of our odd sleeping arrangement? That would surely cause gossip and, I for one, don’t want anymore whispers floating around our hasty marriage.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. I assume everyone believes we are either madly in love or that I am…” her words trailed off as a crimson blush colored her cheeks. His stormy blue eyes sparkled with laughter at her embarrassment and she dropped her gaze to his chest.

“With child,” he finished. “Time will silence that rumor, my kitten.”

Victoria nodded, she knew that bit of gossip would soon die out. When her belly did not begin to round all would know that it was nothing but a vicious lie. But if she did move into Dorian’s room that lie may just turn into truth sooner than she would like.

She had told him that she wanted to wait and he had seemed to understand. She knew that he desired her, that knowledge thrilled her more than she would ever like to admit, but was she playing into his hand? Could this be a trap? Or was his offer completely innocent.

She studied her husband as he stood nonchalantly in the threshold. He looked like sin with one shoulder braced against the wall, his dark hair framing his smooth, hard, angelic face. His frame filled the doorway like an ancient wall that could not be moved. A shock of excitement pricked her heart as his satin gaze ran over her. They were filled with such longing, such thirst that she trembled from their force.

“I will share a room with you.’

“And bed?” he asked.

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“Yes,” was answered with a roll of her eyes. “I am not about to sleep on the floor.”

He nodded with triumph and stepped away from the entry.

“After you, kitten.”

Victoria slowly crossed the room on quaking limbs. Her entire body tingled and she feared that she would melt to the floor at any moment.

Dorian watched her step across the hall to his room. She paused for a brief breath before opening the door. He quickly followed her. He had won this round with his emerald-eyed vixen.

He knew that Ophelia and Dobbins would never spread gossip.

They were among the handful of people he trusted. They were honest and loyal to a fault, but Victoria did not know that.

“You may take the first bath,” he said, passing her and continuing on into his closet. “Tomorrow, we will need to purchase a robe for you.”

“Why?” She dipped her fingers into the hot water and sighed.

“Because mine are all too big for you.”

“Will you give me some privacy?”

Dorian chuckled and placed a soft kiss upon her forehead.

“What do you need privacy for, kitten?” he said playfully.

“I will be seeing that sweet little frame sooner or later.”

“I would rather it be later,” she stated.

“I know you would, that is why I will sit in that chair,” he pointed to the armchair facing the window, “and gaze out into the night.”

“Dorian, I would like it if you would step outside.”

“There is no reason for me to leave. It is too dark in here for me to see your reflection if that is what you are so worried about. Enjoy your bath and take all the time you need.” With that he crossed the room, sat himself down in the chair, and casually propped his booted feet upon the window seat. “Oh and you’ll find your belongs in the armoire in the corner,” he called over his shoulder.

She glanced over to the large, rich, cherry wood piece of furniture.

“How did you know they would be in there?” she asked.

“I asked Ophelia to go and buy you some furniture while we were at your dreadful aunt’s. I assume that is what she bought since it was not there before,” he answered flippantly.

“It is lovely.”

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“I will only allow the best for my wife.”

“Thank you.”

“You needn’t thank me,” he said glancing over at her.

“Now, get in the bath before the water gets cold.”

Victoria tugged at her lip nervously as she began to remove her clothing. She did not take the time to fold everything in a nice stack and instead stepped up into the tub. She quickly sank in and allowed the warmth to seep into her bones.

“Don’t turn into a prune on me,” Dorian teased.

A light laugh escaped her as she began to wash.

Dorian wished he were as calm as he appeared. His hands fisted as he heard her lather and splash, there were very few moments in his life when he had longed for normal hearing and this was one of those moments. She hummed a light tune that he knew he would never forget. The scent of lavender clouded the air and drove him mad. He wanted to look, he wanted to touch, he wanted to devour, but he would not move. He would sit, his eyes fixed on the moon, until she was dressed.

Completely ignorant of Dorian’s struggle, Victoria slowly rose from the soapy water, donned his robe, snatched up a towel and nearly sprinted to the armoire. She flung the doors open and hid behind them as she dried and slipped her nightgown over her head.

“Don’t trust me?” he asked, his voice revealing a hint of his stress.

“I’m shy.”

“Trying to soothe my wounds?”

“Why would I ever do that?” she asked mischievously, stepping from her hiding place and closing the doors. She gathered the robe and towel and placed them at the foot of the tub. “I hurried and tried not to spoil the water too badly if you would like–”