Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"I 've never had a knack for fashion," Violetta told me, sitting up in bed with a faraway look on her face. "I know, difficult to imagine. I was awkward, especially at a young age. The other girls refused to play with me even when I was dolled up by Mother." She shrugged. "That all changed when Isabel's family arrived in town. The other girls fawned over her, because, well, she was the most beautiful girl they'd ever seen."

I glanced out the window of her room at Foxglove Abbey as the curtains billowed inward on a breeze, lazily reaching toward us before deflating. The Harclay family was attending Isabel's funeral right now. They'd stayed the week to allow for Isabel's family to arrive, then traveled north to where she would be interned into the family crypt. Most of my friends and their families had made the trip as well, but I remained behind with Violetta, who'd been so overcome that she'd collapsed when confronted with the news and had been inconsolable ever since. I hadn't felt right attending the funeral of a girl I'd hardly known, not when her lover wasn't in a state to attend.

"But Isabel didn't take to them," Violetta continued. "She saw through their flattery. One New Year's, when the others shunned me as usual, she kept me company. When the other girls asked why she bothered, she replied ‘I like her much better than the likes of you.'"

I smiled. "That does sound like Isabel. I believe I misjudged her in the beginning."

"Oh, she could be tremendously self-absorbed and uncaring." She shrugged. "But she always watched out for me. And even though she never said as much, I believe she came to love me. She was very tender with me when we were alone. And with Emmett. He alone was witness to how happy we made each other."

"Yes, I saw his paintings of her. She always appeared carefree and joyous in them. She will be immortalized in them."

"I'm not sure I could ever look at them. It would be too painful to reminisce about the times they were painted. They bickered like brother and sister, you know."

I nodded. I could imagine that relationship with Isabel.

Violetta frowned. "Emmett will attend her funeral, won't he?"

I leaned back in my chair with a sigh. "No one has seen him yet. I doubt he will." I wondered if Emmett would even know of Isabel's death. He was clearly in hiding since his encounter with the robed men, which likely meant no word would reach him of her death any time soon. Ambrose would likely suffer Emmett's wrath for it, since his brother was at least part of the reason he found it necessary to conceal himself from further kidnapping attempts.

"Oh, he must," Violetta sat up, nose scrunched with distaste. "I don't know why he's insisting on remaining in hiding. He's acting so juvenile. All this secrecy is absurd."

I blinked. "Secrecy?"

She stared back at me, mouth hardening. "I just mean his unexcused absence."

"And the girl Isabel saw him with? You didn't also see her, did you?"

"No, I did not."

I deflated. Due to her untimely death, Isabel had never had the chance to point out the mysterious girl. Now I might never know, at least not until Emmett deemed it safe enough to return home. I turned over Violetta's words and sent her a questioning look. "What secrecy do you mean?" I sat forward. "Do you know something else?"

She flushed, looking away.

She did know something. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I know nothing."

"Violetta."

She glanced at me, then sighed. "I haven't told anyone. I never even told …" She shrugged. "It's nothing, really. It's just a list he gave me for safekeeping."

I frowned. "A list?"

"Yes. It makes no sense to me. He gave it to me just before he disappeared."

I straightened. "You slipped that note under his door."

She ducked her head. "I … you saw that, did you?"

"Yes. I thought it was from the mystery girl."

"No. It was me." She sent me a sheepish smile. "I wasn't too stern with him, was I? I was very cross when I wrote that reply."

"It sounded appropriately firm," I said, mind turning over this new information. "The message you received from him, it was in Emmett's handwriting?"

"Yes."

"You're sure? It sounded like him?"

"Of course. I'm positive."

I let out a breath. Okay. That certified that Emmett was still alive and all but nearly confirmed he was hiding from his kidnappers. It still nagged at me that they had attempted to grab Maxwell as well. News of Maxwell being kidnapped would have spread if they'd been successful, perhaps prompting Emmett to reappear to help his favorite brother—that had likely been the point. Yet … news of Isabel's death hadn't reached Emmett. Had the kidnappers been banking on him being smuggled into the house of a friend who would pass along any pertinent news? Or was something else going on here altogether? It could very well be that whoever Emmett was involved with had nothing to do with the kidnappings whatsoever. He could be on his way home from an elopement for all I knew. It was all conjecture.

"You look troubled," Violetta said.

"It's good news," I said, distracted by my own thoughts. "Would you mind showing me the list when we return to Hale's Corner?"

Violetta hesitated. "I promised to keep it to myself and show no one."

I grabbed her hand earnestly. "Please, Violetta. Emmett never even knew me. I'm no threat to him. I'm just trying to help Maxwell figure out what happened to his brother."

Violetta's features softened. She nodded.

"Thank you." I sighed as I released her hand. Perhaps whatever this list was would contain the answers I was searching for. He'd entrusted it to Violetta so that it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands. I wondered if those hands belonged to robed men.

It would have been convenient if Melbourne—or anyone worth investigating further—had stayed on at Foxglove Abbey, but instead I'd spent my time researching the families of Hale's Corner, creating a list of the most likely candidates for vampire hunters. Some family trees had connections to knights, and the church. Melbourne's family had connections to both. But then again, so had Isabel's, and she hadn't been involved.

"I heard the duke returned to Hemlock Manor," Violetta said after a few minutes of silence. "You didn't wish to ride along?"

It was true. The duke had taken a turn for the worse, and while a local doctor had cautioned him to stay in bed at Foxglove Abbey to rest, he had returned home, insisting the family mourn Isabel for him, especially since the poor girl had died on his property. I could have seized the opportunity to return to Hemlock Manor myself, but the only person for me there was Helena, and I didn't relish the idea of spending time alone with her, not when my wounds were still fresh from her betrayal. "I thought you would appreciate the company."

"I do." She paused and I watched her war with something in her mind for a moment. "Lucian, the vampire who killed …" She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling.

"Yes?"

"It was her, wasn't it? The one you knew?"

I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. "I'm afraid that looks likely."

Violetta stared down at her lap. "Why was she here?"

To torment me. To ensure I didn't make headway in meeting Vrykolakas's terms. To kill me. Pick any number of reasons. But I couldn't tell Violetta that. "I'm sorry, Violetta. I wish—"

She held up a hand to silence me. "Just promise you won't hesitate should you run into her again. Don't miss her heart next time."

I clenched my jaw and nodded.

We talked for well over an hour before I returned to my room to allow her to rest. For the past week, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about Isabel's prone form at the bottom of that staircase, body growing cold, drained of blood at Raven's hands.

That could have been Maxwell. Panic clawed at my chest anytime the thought reared its head. Even now, while he was surrounded by his family, safe during the daylight hours, I worried that something untoward would happen to him. If Raven knew how much Maxwell meant … I put a hand to my head as I paced my room. How had he come to mean so much? Why couldn't I bloody well stop thinking about his stupid smile?

How had I ever been so cruel? I would have done what Raven had done. I would have left Isabel's body cold, discarded without another thought.

And I would have enjoyed tormenting Raven, had our roles been reversed.

We returned to Hemlock Manor a sober party. I sat with Cecelia, Melbourne, and Zachariah in the carriage. If Isabel were still alive, I'd likely be in her company again for the voyage.

A pensive silence hung over us for most of the ride. I preferred to watch the trees pass than absorb the solemn faces of my companions, leaning back in my seat with my arms crossed so as not to invite conversation. We had been forced to witness a tragedy, and we'd turned inward to reflect upon the fragility of life. As a vampire, I'd never thought I'd be facing my own mortality ever again. Waves of panic coursed through me as I realized how fleeting life was. I needed to secure my powers again before something happened to me.

Hopefully being faced with such dire circumstances would urge Ambrose to make haste with his decision. Time was quickly slipping away. Soon his father's health would fail him, and he wouldn't have the chance to see Ambrose wed.

Cecelia cleared her throat, rousing me from my reverie. She sat across from me, eyes hovering on mine briefly before shifting to her left, where Melbourne reclined, looking bored. "This isn't exactly how we saw our time at Foxglove Abbey going."

"Clearly," Zachariah muttered beside me. He opened his fan and began to wave it leisurely. I leaned over to catch a ghost of a breeze. It wasn't exactly stifling in the carriage, but it was warm enough to border on uncomfortable.

"I'm certainly not having fun anymore," I observed with a sigh. "Everything is suddenly so depressing."

Cecelia nodded. "Life isn't all fun and games. We're moving into a phase of life that requires us to meet our responsibilities. Ambrose knows that more than anyone. We can't just indulge ourselves." She looked pointedly at Melbourne, who shifted under her gaze.

We can't just indulge ourselves. I frowned. That was all I'd ever done.

"Don't you have something to say, Melbourne?" Cecelia coaxed. She glanced from him to me.

Melbourne scowled. "You want me to apologize? You don't even know what transpired."

Zachariah perked up, pausing in his fanning, eyes brightening at the hint of scandal. "Oh? Did something happen between you two?"

Cecelia pursed her lips. "I don't know what, but I'm sure it was Melbourne's fault."

Melbourne scowled at me, but he couldn't very well announce to the whole carriage what he was. "I was having a pleasant enough time before he barged in. If anything, Lucian should be apologizing to me."

She slapped his arm. "I can take one guess as to what you were up to that required barging in on. There are consequences for our actions, Melbourne. We're no longer children. It's high time you hold yourself accountable, rather than have others clean up your messes your entire life."

"There is a social contract of conduct." Zachariah nodded. "It's only right that you respect others and admit your mistakes. Otherwise you'll just continue to hurt the people you care about. Before long, you may find you have no friends left at all, and you'll have only yourself to blame." He leaned forward. "But be a dear and spill all of the juicy details while you apologize."

I rolled my eyes, but held up my hands. "It was my fault for barging in on him. Melbourne was guilty of nothing more than being himself."

"See?" Melbourne smiled triumphantly, then frowned as he realized it had been a backhanded apology. "You're always jumping to conclusions when it comes to me, Cecelia."

"Because you're so naughty all the time, darling," Zachariah sighed.

I lifted my eyes to Melbourne's. His nose was wrinkled with distaste, but there was a gratitude in his expression for my words. And likely for not informing everybody that he was part of a secret society of vampire hunters.

"I apologize," Cecelia told Melbourne, although she didn't look convinced. "I shouldn't have assumed." She sent me a look that I interpreted as she had done what she could, and whatever bad blood remained between us was up to us to resolve.

"And I apologize for ruining your evening," I said, nodding to Melbourne. Of course, the first moment I had alone with him, I would ruin his evening again, but in the meantime, I needed him to let his guard down around me. I could play nice until the opportunity presented itself.

Zachariah threw his head back. "No sordid details whatsoever. How dull."

I snorted.

Before we knew it, we were winding down the drive to Hemlock Manor, and I smiled at the sight. It felt like a homecoming, even if this was but a temporary stay in what was sure to be a long immortal life.

I exited the carriage after Cecelia, pausing as I observed Flora, Ambrose, and Maxwell lingering beside the coach that had been at the head of our procession, observing another carriage stop behind the one I'd been traveling in. Violetta exited amid a sea of faces I was familiar with but hadn't bothered memorizing names for. I really only cared to put the effort in for true competition, and none of these suitors could be deemed such. Every ball needed a suitable number of dancers, and I considered them filler to meet a quota. Three more suitors had been dismissed following the latest challenge, and with Isabel's death, only a scant nine remained in the competition, although one of those suitors had left as a result of the hunting expedition.

There were a few handsome men and one beautiful girl left among the suitors, but as far as I'd seen, Ambrose had shown nothing but passing interest. I could very well be the frontrunner for Ambrose's hand, but if I was, what was giving him pause? Perhaps he'd been about to make his intentions known during our dance before it had been interrupted by that lout Thomas Grange. It was also a possibility that the blessing of the duke was necessary. I wasn't sure how he felt about me, but I couldn't imagine he had formed a bad opinion. I should probably redouble my efforts to be friendly with him, but I doubted I would be able to see anything but the strict man who'd ruled over his sons with an iron fist. I questioned whether I could remain civil with him for long. Konstantin had been like that, shaping me into his own image, pushing me to perform terrible deeds until I was twisted into … I put a hand to my head. I had to focus. This wasn't the time to be swept away with the past. And anyway, I was getting ahead of myself.

"It is good to be home," Flora sighed, walking up the steps as the door opened. "I do love Foxglove Abbey, but I could do with a little less excitement."

"But we have our third ball tomorrow," Ambrose pointed out. "Best get your rest in while you can."

"Oh, but we have special guests arriving tonight. It's always something, isn't it?" She paused at the door, squinting at Percival in the doorway. "Percival, are you alright? You look rather unwell."

I cocked my head. The butler's eyes were lined with dark circles, and he looked pale and tired. He waved a hand. "There's a bug going around, I'm sorry to report. Several of the servants are out for the count, resting up in their rooms. I'm well enough to perform my duties, however."

"If at all possible, have the underbutler take over. At least to rest before dinner. You know how we rely on you and need you in good health."

Percival inclined his head, a pleased smile lifting his mustache.

"How is the duke?" Ambrose asked, concern etching his brow.

"He has rebounded nicely," Percival reported, earning relief from the family members. "In fact, he seems livelier than ever. We're ensuring no one sick is in his company." He hesitated, eyes making their way to me unexpectedly. "However, I am sorry to report that Lady Grafton has fallen gravely ill. She barely has the strength to lift her head."

I stiffened. Helena was sick? I'd never seen her sick. She was always so full of life and energy. A feeble version of her seemed impossible. "May I see her?"

"The doctor insisted she not be disturbed. It appears her heart is having trouble handling the stress of the sickness."

"I'm sure a few minutes wouldn't do any lasting harm," Maxwell interjected. I sent him a grateful look.

"Just a brief visit," Flora insisted, gesturing to Percival, who nodded his acquiescence before escorting me inside.

"Would you like me to join you?" Maxwell asked, keeping stride with me.

He looked so earnest. He was always so thoughtful. "I don't need anyone to hold my hand," I said, sparing him the slightest glance. I needed to be less indulgent with him. I was courting his brother, and I needed him to understand that my friendliness toward him wouldn't lead to anything romantic. If he had any amorous feelings for me, it was best to douse them now. "And I'm sure you would like to see to your father."

Maxwell paused, before nodding. "Of course. If you need me, don't hesitate."

I turned to watch him backtrack up the hallway, and cursed myself as he caught me. I turned away quickly, preparing myself for whatever state I would find Helena in.

"My lord," Percival said, stopping to open her bedroom door. He made to step inside with me, but I stopped him.

"A few minutes alone, Percival," I told him. It wasn't a question.

Percival hesitated, but nodded, shutting the door between us.

A heavy sigh escaped me as I stared at the door, putting off turning to Helena in her weakened state. But I didn't have long. Her death was inevitable, even if she recovered from this illness and the shock it had given her heart. I would have to face it sooner or later. Such was the fate of all mortals. It would be my fate if I didn't meet Vrykolakas's challenge.

I forced my legs to carry me to her bedside, where I watched the rise and fall of her chest. I sank into the chair beside her as I stared at her sleeping face, pale and somehow more aged than before. She appeared so feeble and delicate. I grasped her hand, the same hand I had threatened to break only a week prior. Gods, I was an arse. The things she'd had to put up with when she'd been my servant … how had she not reacted to me the same as Thomas Grange every time she saw me? Yet she'd never treated me like a monster.

Her eyes opened and she shifted, struggling to sit up.

"No, no, Helena," I soothed. "Don't get up. It's only me, Lucian. Rest."

She opened her mouth, but only a croak broke across the silence of the room.

Gently, I pushed her back into her pillow. "Enough of that now. You need to save your strength." I paused to watch her throat work for a moment. "I'm sorry, Helena. You were a bigger part of my life than my own mother, and I never truly appreciated how much you cared for me over the years. I took you for granted. But I need you to pull through for me now, okay? I understand why you … did what you felt you had to. I deserved it."

She made to speak again, but I kept a firm hand on her chest to keep her from sitting up. "I need you to be okay, Helena," I said in a hoarse whisper, realizing that I was overcome with emotion. With no witnesses, I allowed the tears to gather. "I wish that I could repay you for your kindness, that I'd given you what I'd promised, but instead, I treated you like rubbish. I'm arrogant. You're right about that. I've been a fool. Perhaps I was changed at too young an age to gain a proper perspective of the world, and had only a cruel hand to guide me. I should have taken cues from you, Helena. And now, I find need of your guidance more than ever."

The door clicked at my back. "I think that will do, my lord," Percival said.

I swallowed an angry retort. I wished to throttle him for his impudence. But I needed to remain calm and collected for Helena. She didn't need my agitation to distract her from getting better. "Where is Nancy?" I asked him.

He sighed. "Out sick. We have maids checking on Lady Grafton round the clock, so don't worry."

I nodded. "I'll visit you again soon," I promised, raising Helena's hand to my lips to kiss it. I laid it back at her side with a delicate pat before leaning in to whisper at her ear. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. You're right. I should have changed you. It was selfish of me not to have done so." I paused, letting my words sink in. "You deserved better from me. I hope we can put it all behind us and begin anew once you've recovered."

She made a face, as if scowling. I wondered what she would say to me if she had the strength.

"Rest," I ordered one last time before joining Percival at the door. She looked in my direction with a grave expression, as if she could defy her blindness and find my face, before the door closed between us.