Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I returned to my room to find Stuart unpacking the things I'd taken with me to Foxglove Abbey. He tensed as I walked in, and I gifted him a wide smile.

"Stuart!" I said cheerfully. "How I've missed our encounters."

He offered me a stiff nod. "That makes one of us, my lord."

"You can't fool me. I can read between your words, and I don't blame you one bit for being madly in love with me."

"As you say."

I chuckled as I flopped onto the bed. I noticed a bowl of water on the floor near the window, with fish shredded on a platter beside it. "Has Beezle taken over my room in my absence?"

"He has made himself at home here, although he comes and goes as he pleases, it seems. He didn't eat today, but that little beast is probably hunting his own meals, knowing him. He's altogether abandoned Emmett's chambers."

"I am usually the favorite."

"Indeed."

I watched Stuart add a bundle of worn clothes to a basket. "I'm glad to see that you've managed to evade this illness that's going around."

Stuart nodded solemnly. "It's doubled my workload. At least while the family was gone, there was no need to keep up on some of the redundancies. Now I'm afraid I won't be getting much sleep until some of the others bounce back."

"Should I speak to someone on your behalf?"

Stuart blinked at me. "You would do that, my lord?"

"Of course."

Stuart looked skeptical as he resumed his work. "I'll manage. But thank you."

He paused in the unpacking to pull out a suit of deep purple. "This just arrived from the tailor. I think it will do nicely for tonight's dinner."

My eyes swept over the outfit with approval. "The duchess alluded to special guests. Any idea who they are?"

Stuart shrugged. "So long as it isn't Lord Boulliard, I could care less."

"Lord Boulliard?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Yes. A very serious man who visits the duke often. Well, he used to, at any rate. Last time he was here, he met with the duchess. Meanwhile, Emmett …" He paused, shaking his head. "Well, it hardly matters, does it?"

I narrowed my eyes at the flush creeping up Stuart's neck. I made my voice stern, making it clear that I wasn't going to take any nonsense or backtalk from him. "Stuart. What about Emmett?"

He scowled, likely annoyed with himself for the slip. "Nothing to do with you, my lord."

"No, but if it means something that could help Maxwell find his brother, you owe it to the family to speak up."

He squinted at me. "It's likely nothing of consequence anyway. I saw him venture into the spy post outside the dining room."

"So, you know about that spy post." I crossed my arms and shook my head. "Rather observant, aren't you?" I leaned forward. "Do you have any idea what he overheard?"

"Of course not. I'm an employee of the family, and it's none of my concern." He gestured to the suit. "I can be back in a few hours to help you change, if that's all."

I grinned. "Yes, savor the anticipation. It's been too long since you've helped me out of my clothes."

Stuart sighed, lifting the basket of used clothing and heading for the door.

I cocked my head as he neared the threshold. "Say, Stuart, just who is this Lord Boulliard?"

"An expert in the occult," Stuart called back over his shoulder as he disappeared.

I frowned as I slumped back into my bed, eyes finding the bare ceiling. "Occult," I murmured. "What is it with this family and the occult?" I blinked, wondering what Emmett had wanted to overhear. More about belief in life after death? What he'd intended to overhear at that spy post could have been more important to understand, for my purposes, than what he'd actually gleaned from the subterfuge. I would need to understand Emmett's interest in that particular conversation a little more clearly if I was going to get to the bottom of things.

The dining room was already buzzing with conversation when I strode in. All of the guests were seated, including Violetta, who looked pale and distracted. I would have liked to sit near her to ask about the list, but those chairs were occupied. Maxwell noticed me and waved me over, but I pretended not to see him, instead making my way to a seat between Zachariah and Ambrose. I glanced up at Maxwell across the table to find a wounded expression. I sent him a smile to assuage some of my guilt, and he seemed reassured by the gesture, for he brightened considerably and nodded before Cecelia stole his attention.

I noticed two empty seats beside the seat of honor. "Is your father joining us?" I asked Ambrose.

Ambrose glanced at the empty seats with a scowl. "No. My father wants nothing to do with one of tonight's guests."

I arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Don't mind him," Zachariah said from my other side, he leaned into me, voice conspiratorially low. "The answer to the hard question is Istria."

Question? Istria? That was a country, but why was he bringing it up? I frowned, but before I could ask what he meant, Flora swept into the room, positively beaming. "I am so pleased to have two distinguished guests joining us for our meal this evening." She shuffled aside as a woman stepped into the room.

Zachariah gasped beside me. The woman wore a gold suit of armor with a train of gold chainmail that tinkled along the hardwood floor as she walked, a veil of the same chainmail dripping over her face. She rounded the table and took the chair to the left of the seat of honor with a sweep of her train, the chainmail only permitting her to perch on the chair. Her gold lips were pulled into a smug smile, while her red hair spilled back over her shoulders like a sea of blood.

"So lovely," Flora gushed as the woman drew her veil back.

"How are you able to sit in that armor?" Melbourne asked, squinting.

The woman smiled. "The back is leather from the shoulders down, although you can hardly tell it's not more armor unless you get close."

Ambrose sniffed. "An apt metaphor for her trade."

Flora nodded to the woman. "For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, this is Lady Luna. She is a gifted medium. She will be reading you all tonight as we eat and converse."

"But there's no reason to fret. It's not intrusive," Lady Luna said, her voice thick with an accent I couldn't identify. If I didn't know any better, I would say that it was utterly fake. It sounded forced. She was likely a complete charlatan. I couldn't completely write off psychic abilities, seeing as I could hypnotize people with my own supernatural powers. If vampires and ghouls existed, why couldn't people attuned to the spirit realm? Lady Luna's initial display, however, showed me her true colors. If her gifts were legit, I doubted she would need to distract her audience with attention-grabbing dresses.

Ambrose muffled a groan beside me. "She already shared the smoke. Next, you can be dazzled by the mirrors."

I also had to wonder how much money the duchess was paying her for her services that allowed the psychic to afford such costumes. No wonder Ambrose found the woman distasteful. The duke, as well.

"Have you ever performed a séance, Lady Luna?" Cecelia asked politely. "This would be the perfect occasion."

"I only do private consultations, usually readings, to glean the future." Lady Luna sniffed. "My gifts aren't for your entertainment. I take them very seriously." She leaned forward and winked. "The outfits are for your entertainment."

I chuckled, earning a glare from Ambrose. I shrugged apologetically, but I couldn't help but find the medium amusing. At least she had a sense of humor.

Flora cleared her throat. "And for our other guest, joining us from the Carpathian Mountains of Romania, we have Lord Boulliard."

I winced as Stuart's description of the man was given form. The severe-looking man had thick eyebrows and dark stringy hair interspersed with gray, and he strode into the room imperiously. He had a slight limp, and one long scar ran the length of the right side of his face, cutting through his trimmed beard.

"Lord Boulliard is a respected historian," Flora informed us as she followed him to the two remaining seats at the head of the table. "He will test your knowledge this evening. We need an informed mind to join this family, and Lord Boulliard will ensure that is the case."

Ah. I sent Zachariah a sideways glance. Istria. So, he was watching out for me. How adorable. He met my gaze with a knowing look.

Boulliard glowered down at his plate as Flora took the seat of honor and smiled at us reassuringly.

"Has anyone heard if that vampire in the neighborhood was destroyed?" Lady Luna asked as the first course was served: chestnut soup. "And wasn't that girl at Foxglove Abbey killed by a vampire as well? They couldn't be one and the same, could they?"

I stiffened. Perhaps she was psychic.

Flora smiled tightly. "It hasn't been destroyed from what I've heard, but I doubt very much they could be the same creature. Foxglove Abbey is such a long way from here."

Violetta shifted in her seat, and I met her eyes reluctantly.

"Unless it's following Lucian," Melbourne said. "He knows it, after all."

Beneath the table, my hands clenched into fists. Perhaps some animosity still remained between us. I had half a mind to gouge out his eyeballs with the spoon he was slurping from.

"It's not following him," Cecelia corrected Melbourne. "He just knew the young lady when she was alive. Do keep up, Melbourne. It's like you're not even trying."

"Perhaps he should pay less attention to his soup," Ambrose suggested.

Melbourne straightened and left his spoon in his bowl to dab at his lips with a napkin. "My mistake." He didn't lift his eyes to mine.

"You knew it when it was human?" Lord Boulliard asked, squinting at me. "How interesting. And it recognized you?"

I cleared my throat, not particularly liking his attention focused on me. "It did."

"I hear vampires seek out the ones who were closest to them in life," Zachariah said. He glanced sideways at me. "Were you close?"

"I was little acquainted with the woman before she became … one of the undead," I said regrettably. "I'm surprised she approached me as well."

"But yours is hardly a face people forget," Maxwell said, before looking away quickly.

"Here, here," Ambrose chuckled, his good cheer wilting under the stern stare of his mother. He suddenly became fascinated as soup was ladled into his bowl.

"Shall we begin the questions?" Flora asked pleasantly. She gestured to Melbourne. "Lord Boulliard?"

Boulliard sat forward in his seat, giving Melbourne a once-over before turning to a notebook. He scanned a page before returning his eyes to the boy. "What three forms can a vampire take?"

I nearly scoffed at how easy this question was, but Melbourne frowned. I blinked before tilting my head toward Lord Boulliard. An occult question. An occult historian. Interesting.

"A bat and a wolf," Melbourne said. He paused, glancing around the table as if someone might help him. I followed his gaze, noting that Lady Luna was watching him very closely, as if reading him. For some reason, her penetrating gaze sent a shiver up my spine. Melbourne snapped his fingers. "And a human." He beamed, pleased with himself.

"Not a human," Lord Boulliard said.

Melbourne frowned. "But they aren't human. They only wear the bodies of humans."

"I'll allow it," Flora said. "Even if it wasn't the answer we were looking for, it was insightful."

Lord Boulliard grumbled in reply.

"Lady Luna?" Flora glanced to the psychic.

Lady Luna dipped her head once. Flora seemed to take this as an indication to move on. "How about Hansel next?"

The second course was brought in as the fourth guest was questioned about werewolf habits. Roasted lamb, Brussels sprouts in a buttery sauce, and savory pies stuffed with duck made the rounds. I would normally be salivating at the idea of such rich food, but my stomach fluttered nervously as Violetta's turn came to an end.

Flora gazed up the table before pausing on me. She smiled. "Lucian. We'll have you go next."

I nodded stiffly and tried not to feel Lord Boulliard's gaze as he examined me. As I avoided his eyes, I accidentally met Lady Luna's, who seemed to peer straight through to my soul. I fidgeted nervously, staring at a lovely centerpiece of green glass, with poppies and various weeds pouring from its depths.

"Where did the first known vampire come from?"

I blinked. This was a much harder question than the others, and I suddenly realized why Zachariah had thought it necessary to supply me with an answer. But, of course, I already knew the answer to this question. Konstantin had detailed its ramifications on the vampire community, how they had dispersed across Europe to avoid being implicated as a result.

"Istria," I said. "I believe the vampire was Jure Grando Alilovi?."

Lord Boulliard blinked. "Very good." There was begrudging respect in his voice and he nodded to me as Flora glanced at Lady Luna.

The psychic's eyes lingered on me a moment. She hesitated, but nodded to Flora, and I let out a breath as the trial continued around me.

The rest of dinner was rather tame, Ambrose excusing himself to avoid having to sit in Lady Luna's presence for any longer than was necessary as the marzipan was set out for dessert. One suitor had fumbled his question, while two were given somber shakes of the head from Lady Luna, suitors I was sure Flora had wanted out of the competition sooner, but hadn't had the excuse. Perhaps that was Lady Luna's role in all of this.

And now we were down to six suitors: Me, Cecelia, Melbourne, Violetta, Hansel, and Zachariah, who wasn't a serious candidate.

As many of the others approached Lady Luna with questions about her abilities, dinner effectively over, Maxwell lingered nearby, clearly waiting for an opportunity to speak with me. I took a moment to watch Percival, who looked even paler than he had earlier. He carried on nevertheless with a steady hand, scrutinizing his staff as they removed dishes, before I stood to meet Maxwell. This would be a good opportunity to ask him about what Stuart had told me, at least.

Violetta met me on the way and I paused. "How are you holding up?"

She shrugged. "As best as I can, I suppose. I've been trying to keep busy." She had dark circles under her eyes, but she'd answered her question at the table confidently enough to continue. She looked around to ensure we wouldn't be overheard. "I plan on seeing Isabel's parents tonight since I didn't make the funeral. On my way back, I'll fetch Emmett's list from my house."

"Thank you, Violetta," I said. I reached out hesitantly and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything from me."

She flashed me a smile before she slipped past me. I watched her go before I turned back toward Maxwell, who ducked his head as I approached.

"I was actually thinking about asking Lady Luna about Emmett," he told me as I joined him. "Do you think that's silly?"

I blinked at him. "Emmett? What about him?"

"You know, if she can reach him on the other side." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "If he's … no longer with us."

My heart constricted and I resisted the urge to reach out and give his shoulder a squeeze. "A medium won't be able to reach someone who's alive," I told him.

He sent me a grateful smile. "I know."

I sighed. "Although I did hear that Emmett attempted to overhear a conversation at the spy post."

Maxwell frowned. "Is that so?"

"Do you know why he would want to eavesdrop on a conversation between your mother and Lord Boulliard?"

Maxwell straightened, more attentive now. "Who told you this?"

"A servant." I shrugged. "This was before I knew he would be a guest tonight."

"Well, as you've likely gleaned from tonight's dinner, Lord Boulliard is a renowned scholar of the supernatural. His teachings usually revolve around how to keep a town safe from supernatural threats. Hale's Corner likely put some of his practices to use with the vampire in the neighborhood. I don't know what Emmett would find interesting about that."

I frowned. Stuart had said he'd visited here often before the duke became ill. Was that merely due to the duke's interest in the occult? "Did Hale's Corner have a problem with supernatural beings?" Was that why hunters had organized around here?

Maxwell waved my concern away, although he looked uncomfortable with my line of questioning. "Oh, no. Not since the incident at Gramercy House decades back. The town is too prepared for another such fiasco now. I'm frankly surprised the vampire in the neighborhood hasn't been destroyed yet, but it's probably moved on."

"Prepared?" I echoed, shaking my head. "What do—"

"Young man."

I turned to find Lady Luna standing before me.

"I'll see you in the game room," Maxwell told me, patting my shoulder and making a hasty retreat.

I nodded before raising an eyebrow to the woman. "What can I do for you?"

She reached out and grasped my hand. "Your aura is utterly fascin …" She cocked her head, frowning at me, before dropping my hand like it had burned her. She looked up into my eyes, surprised. "Your parents' death wasn't an accident."

I blinked, then swallowed hard, unable to tear my eyes from her. "I …" I didn't know what to say in response.

"You had a sister."

I continued to stare at her as she frowned, as if trying to puzzle me out. "Death is all around you," she whispered. "He is drawn to you like a scavenger, living off scraps. He hungers for more, he thirsts for …" She shook her head, putting a hand to her brow. "I … apologize. I must be tired."

"It's quite alright," I said quickly as Flora breezed over. "Thank you for … tonight."

Lady Luna listened to Flora gush beside her as I made to leave and join Ambrose and Maxwell in the game room. As I slipped out the door, I glanced back to find the medium staring after me, concern etched on her brow. Or perhaps she'd been haunted by the souls of all the people I'd destroyed throughout the years, their ghosts crowding in to watch me fall from grace. They must have been joyously celebrating my circumstances, witness to the once-proud vampire now bumbling through life, vying for the hand of a mortal man, desperate for the power I'd lost. I must have seemed pathetic. I imagined them jeering me from all sides, cursing my name, and hoping for me to fail at my quest so that I would join them after a painful, miserable human death.

I shuddered, imagining them weighing me down, their hands pulling at me so that I could barely move beneath their crushing bodies.

I stumbled out of the room with a gasp, feeling as if those invisible eyes were all around me, and I wondered if the psychic had perhaps summoned them from the other side. Or if my conscience was just growing heavier with each day I passed as a mortal man.