Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

DAPHNE

December 18, 1765

Chateau de Champs-sur-Marne

" Mon Dieu , are you really wearing that?" Charlotte gasped, referring to my plain dress. In the days since the affair in the bookshop cellar, I'd taken to wearing much more…simple attire. It wasn't that I was avoiding society at Versailles, per se, but ever since étienne had come into my life, I found myself less and less thrilled by the glitter of the palace.

Most days I spent at home working for The Order again. étienne's exoneration had been my first priority, and after that had been secured, I took advantage of their good favor to petition for some changes of my own. The Order had readily agreed; partly, I think, because of their embarrassment at being blind to Philippe's true motives. I'd forced my way into a leadership position—organizing missions and investigations, managing my own network of informants, occasionally donning a disguise to enjoy a little espionage on my own.

This style of dress made it so much easier and more comfortable to get around, especially without panniers. The gown was a deep, emerald green velvet, reminiscent of the color of étienne's jacket at the garden party months ago. The memory of our first meeting sent a wave of sadness through me.

"I'm not going to court, Charlotte."

"Well, no, but don't you want to wear something with a bit more…you know…" She gestured expansively at my bodice.

"Elegance?" I finished for her.

"Cleavage," she replied.

I laughed. Despite everything that had happened, Charlotte's spirits had not suffered more than an occasional dip. Philippe had been carted off for a secret trial within The Order where the agents and other members vehemently condemned his actions and, while unwilling to sentence an aristocrat to death, stuck him in the worst of all possible places—a filthy oubliette in the island prison, le Chateau d'If. To avoid further embarrassment, The Order offered Charlotte a falsified death record for him, which allowed her to maintain her wealth, title, and property, as well as her reputation—and she was free to pursue any number of courtly love affairs. Most of the time, however, she could be found at my chateau, assisting me with my work for The Order. Once they realized what a valuable asset she could be, they had eagerly requested her participation. We'd been devising plans for a separate branch of women agents, Les Dames Dangereuses, or DD for short. Charlotte had proven herself an extremely capable co-conspirator.

So, now she was here in my bedchamber, helping me dress and get ready for one of the most nerve-wracking errands of my life.

"Are you going to invite him to your Christmas party?"

"I have an invitation ready, just in case. If it doesn't go well, he might not want to come. He might be cross with me for some reason." I chewed on my bottom lip.

"I'm sure it'll go well," she encouraged. "Unless he was offended that you sent Doctor Van Helsing to him to spy on him for the rest of the year."

"Not to spy!" I defended. "Just to, you know, look after him, make sure he's all right. Van Helsing doesn't report to me, Charlotte. I just wanted him to be safe."

"He's a vampire, Daphne. He doesn't need you mothering him," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, how else was I supposed to be able to sleep at night? Worrying about him constantly—always thinking about him. It's maddening! I had to give myself some peace of mind. Van Helsing's support allowed me to do just that." I fastened a strand of pearls around my neck.

Her brows lifted. "Has it? You are such a horrible liar, Daphne. The whole time since the cellar you've been moping around your chateau, anxiously checking for letters from him every morning, tying yourself up in knots and consequently forcing your attentions on work. If that's peace of mind, mon Dieu , I'd hate to see what you're like when you're distraught."

Peevishness crept into my tone. "Just what are you implying, Charlotte?"

"Implying? Nothing. Stating outright? That you're in love with the man and you're too much of a twit to go after him and tell him so."

I tsked. "Don't be ridiculous. I am not in love with him. And even if I were, it wouldn't matter because he told me himself that he does not love me."

"He did not! When was this?" She came to stand behind me, helping me with my hair.

I felt the pressure of tears behind my eyes. I squeezed them shut and swallowed.

"Back at the bookshop. Asmoday—before he was exorcised—told étienne that I would never be able love him in the way that he wanted. I asked him about it afterward, but he brushed it off. Said it was a lie meant to provoke him."

Charlotte's eyes widened, then she broke into a fit of giggles. Irritated, I scowled at her.

"It's really not funny."

"No, no, you're right, darling. It's just—you're so oblivious! And you're the best intelligence agent in the country. It's not often you miss things, but when you do— mon Dieu —you really miss them!"

Anger surpassed my annoyance.

"What the Hell are you on about?" I balled my fists at my sides. Charlotte continued to cackle, until she was wiping tears from her eyes and gulping down air.

"I'm sorry, chérie ," she sighed. "I just don't understand how you couldn't put it all together. étienne is obviously in love with you, otherwise Asmoday would have offered up some other insult. He went for what he knew would hurt most."

"But he denied it!"

"Of course he did. We'd just battled your dead husband, a demon, and my own idiot husband who'd been murdering people across Europe to try and win your affections. I can't imagine he would have thought then was a good time to profess his undying love for you."

The realization slammed into me and I staggered back.

"You think—Charlotte, do you really think he loves me?"

She threw me a pitying look and poured herself a large brandy from the decanter nearby.

"Please don't be dense with me, Daphne. You know he does. I suspect you've always known, you're just too stubborn to admit that you rather like the idea."

For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of lightness. Was it true? If he had loved me before—did he still love me now? Had he moved on with other women? How did I truly feel about him? Stupid question, Daphne. The truth of it burned through me. I was in love with him .

Charlotte handed me her glass of brandy.

"Fortification? You appear to need something steadying."

I took the glass and downed it in one.

"So? What are you going to do about it?" she prodded. "He's still a vampire, after all."

I considered the question. It had taken me some time to accept that Michel's death was on Philippe's hands—to let go of the hatred of vampires that had sustained me through my grief and despair. But as my work with The Order took me out around the city more and more these days, I'd begun to see that étienne had been right all along. Certainly, there were still vampires who deserved a stake through the heart, just as there were human aristocrats who deserved the same—or more, in some cases. I could no longer lay the blame at the feet of the blood plague. Evil needed to be rooted out, wherever and however it lay.

Reading my thoughts, Charlotte took the brandy glass from my trembling hands.

"Would you give it up, do you think? To be with him forever?"

The tough question. Would I—could I—give up my humanity for him? A lifetime of sunrises? The pleasures of a mortal life?

I would.

"Yes," I breathed. "Yes, Charlotte, I think I would sacrifice just about anything to be with him."

She nodded sagely. "Great love demands great sacrifice."

I blinked back the tears that welled in my eyes.

"Besides," she continued, refilling the brandy glass and sipping at it herself. "Think how much better of an agent you'll be with all those supernatural gifts!"

Would he accept me? I wasn't certain. Regardless, I had to tell him. I would tell him—as soon as I'd delivered my message to him from The Order. I kissed Charlotte's cheeks and ran out my bedroom door, straight into Gaston. We both crashed to the ground.

"Madame! Are you all right?" he said, helping me to my feet.

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry, Gaston. I was distracted. Were you coming to find me?"

"Oui , Madame. You have a visitor." He handed me a calling card. "He is waiting for you in the drawing room."

étienne .

He is here? But I was on my way to see him! My stomach twisted. I inhaled shakily and straightened my dress.

"Thank you, Gaston."

I went downstairs and entered the drawing room. He stood at the fireplace, staring down into the flames. I hadn't seen him since All Hallow's Eve and my heart leaped at the sight. He was as uncommonly beautiful as I remembered—wavy black hair tied back, chiseled features, lean, muscular body wrapped in gilt-embroidered navy wool. His full lips were curved in a private smile that vanished when he saw me.

"Duchesse." He bowed formally and my chest tightened. His manner had me rattled.

I inclined my head. "I was on my way to you with a message from The Order, but I see you beat me to the punch. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Monsieur?"

He coughed and fidgeted with his cuff. It comforted me that he, too, appeared to be nervous.

"Shall I call for some tea?" I offered. "Or perhaps something stronger?" I gestured to the sideboard with crystal decanters of brandy, sherry, and whisky.

"No, thank you. I…I came to call on you to…thank you for Doctor Van Helsing's care. And to, you know, see how you fared."

"Of course," I said. "I hope I didn't overstep. I mean, I'm sure I did, but I was worried about you and I wanted to ensure that you had access to the best possible care. I…I'm sorry. Thinking on it, it was probably quite overbearing. I should have asked." Stop babbling, Daphne! Awash with anxiety, I sat on the small couch across from the fireplace. I pulled a cushion onto my lap and toyed with the tassels.

"No, it was kind of you, really." He gestured to the empty space next to me and I nodded. He sat, maintaining an even distance from me.

"And how do you fare, Monsieur? Are you well?"

"Yes, of course, quite well. I saw Josephine recently. She sends her regards."

Warmth filled me at the thought of his resourceful, plucky sister. I smiled. "Ah. Yes. I hope she's well, too."

He nodded. An awkward silence settled between us.

This was interminable.

"I have been working with The Order quite a bit," I blurted suddenly—and a touch loudly. I winced, but carried on. "That's why I was coming to see you. I'm trying to get a task force together to work with the vampires—looking for a cure, discussing their rights and grievances…trying to prevent that revolution you're always on about. So far, The Order isn't entirely on board; neither are the nobility, for that matter. I could use your help."

"My help?" he repeated, looking stunned. "Yes, of course. You've taken up my cause?"

I nodded. "Oh, and Charlotte has joined, as well. We have been designing missions for other members. We're forming a group of primarily women agents. It's been quite thrilling."

"How is Charlotte? Well, I hope?" A pained smile crossed his face.

"Yes, quite well, now that everything's settled with her estate."

"Good. Good."

"Yes, it is good, isn't it?"

The clock on the mantle chimed nine o'clock. The fire crackled in the hearth. I was going to die of discomfort. Tell him, Daphne. Tell him you're in love with him. Tell him you want to be his forever.

étienne studied me, his hazel eyes glittering like gold coins. He seemed to relax a fraction, then offered me the first genuine smile I'd seen all evening. The smile broke into a warm chuckle that turned into a full-throated laugh. I giggled along with him.

"It's bad, isn't it?" I sighed. "The tension between us."

"Yes," he smiled. "But I don't know why it should be." He took my hand in his and our eyes met. "I miss you, Daphne."

"You do?" I said somewhat breathlessly. "Why have you stayed away so long?" Have you found another woman?

"I wanted to give you a respectful distance after everything. For a time, I convinced myself that you would want to be rid of me—that there was nothing left for us. Our conversation at Versailles that night felt so final, I convinced myself that I'd have to let you go. That you deserved a long, happy, mortal life—a life without me. But I don't know if I can accept that, unless you tell me otherwise. If you say so, Daphne, I swear I'll leave you alone and never darken your doorstep again. But if there's hope—if you feel differently… I came here tonight to…to…"

"To find out?"

He nodded, his handsome face a study in angst. Desire gathered in me. He was mine.

"Shall we see, then?" I breathed. I didn't wait for him to respond, or for the confusion to fall from his face. I leaned forward and set my lips to his.

He melted into me immediately, returning the kiss with the full force of his passion. He brought his hands up to my head, lacing his fingers into my hair as he had before. Pins scattered across the couch and the floor. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth and stroked it with his tongue. Lust stormed through me, setting my skin ablaze, tightening my nipples, and heating my core. I bent over him, pushing him back against the cushions. He moaned against me at the feel of our bodies pressing against each other.

"God, Daphne," he growled, breaking away to drop tiny kisses along my jaw. "How I've missed you. You don't know how much. You're all I can think about. It makes every day without you feel like a hundred years." His fingers found the buttons of my bodice and he frantically tried to undo them, seeking the feel of my bare skin.

"Why the Hell do all your gowns have so many damn buttons?" On an oath, he wrenched the fabric in two, sending buttons flying in all directions.

"étienne! I liked that dress," I protested. He dropped his head to tug one of my nipples into his mouth, and the dress was forgotten. I ground my hips against him, loving the feel of his arousal beneath my legs. He sucked in a breath.

"I missed you, étienne. I was so worried that you didn't care for me, or that you'd found another lover since we— Oh, yes, right there! I cannot go back to my life the way it was, the way I was, before you. You were right about me—about everything. I don't want to be without you, étienne." I fumbled with the buttons on his breeches and he reached for the hem of my skirts, lifting them up to my thighs. When he pushed them up to bare my sex, he bit back a groan.

"Perfection," he breathed, sliding a finger through my damp heat. He circled the bud of my pleasure and I cried out. "You're so wet—so ready for me. So responsive to my touch. It's one of the things I love most about you, darling. I'm afraid this won't last as long as I'd like. It's been a while since?—"

I grasped his hard length and he huffed in torment.

"Drink from me," I murmured.

"What?" he gasped, growing harder in my hand. "Darling, no. I will not just use you for blood."

"I want to be yours, étienne, completely. I want to be yours forever."

His eyes snapped open and found mine in the firelight.

"Daphne," he said, placing a hand on me to stop my explorations of his body. "You don't mean that. I can't ask you to give up your mortality, not for me. I don't deserve such a sacrifice."

"I'm in love with you," I blurted.

For a moment, we remained frozen. He stared at me, eyes wide. Panic started to build while I waited for him to respond.

"étienne?"

His lips broke into a wide, beautiful smile and his eyes shimmered with emotion.

"Daphne, I've loved you since the very moment you tried to kill me and I'm going to love you until one or both of us is dust."

I bent to kiss him, shutting my eyes against the threatening tears. I slid my tongue into his mouth, gently testing the sharpness of his fangs. He slid his hands up my thighs and I sighed into him, stroking his hardness until he threw his head back with a guttural curse.

"Putain de merde , Daphne, that feels?—"

I stroked him again, firmer this time. His eyes squeezed shut again and he whimpered.

"Daphne, please, you're killing me. I'm going to?—"

I straddled him, shifting slightly to position him just at my entrance.

"Tell me again," I demanded. Once more, his gaze flew to mine. That devastating smile again. He let out a breath so deep, it seemed he had been holding it since he first arrived.

"I love you, Duchesse. In fact, I'm really quite mad for you."

I laughed and slid him inside me. He cursed a litany of smut that rushed through me. He pushed me back down on the couch, driving into me with fire. My pleasure built to its breaking point and étienne sensed it. He reached between us and pressed his fingertip against my bud.

He pulled out and ducked between my legs, setting his tongue and fingers to work. In moments, I began to see stars. When I came apart, I felt his teeth on my thigh—a momentary prick of pain, and then another tidal wave of pleasure, unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. He moaned helplessly against my thigh, gently sucking while I twined my fingers in his hair. Too soon, he stopped, and I mourned the loss of his warm, wet lips.

"You are, without a doubt, the most delicious thing I've ever had," he grinned.

He collapsed above me and rolled off the couch, bringing me down to the floor with him. He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my neck.

"My love," he said again. His smile would have made angels weep.

We lay there for a few moments, temporarily sated.

"So," I hedged, breaking the silence. "Is that the only reason you came here tonight?"

étienne kissed my temple and adjusted his clothing. He reached into his pocket and produced a small box. I gasped.

"It's not what you think," he said hurriedly. "That is—I visited Georges the jeweler after we questioned him. He didn't have any real information for me about the murders. He could not find Jeanne's ring, for obvious reasons." He chuckled. "He was incredibly worried about how you'd respond to his failure. I told him you'd changed your mind, and that I was there to acquire something else on your behalf."

I opened the box to find an exquisite amethyst and diamond choker. It sparkled in the glow of the fire and I blinked back tears.

"étienne, it's beautiful. You didn't have to—I don't deserve—" He silenced me with a kiss.

"Yes, you do. I came here tonight to ask for your forgiveness—to tell you that I can't help myself. You're worth someone ten times the man that I am, but I'm too selfish to let that man come along and take you from me. If you let me, Daphne, I swear I'll endeavor every single day to deserve you."

Tears rolled down my cheeks and I kissed him again—this time slower and more gently.

"No, étienne. I was wrong about so many things. I thought the world was divided into light and dark, but then you came along and showed me otherwise. If anything, I should be the one proving myself to you."

étienne tightened his hold on me. "You have nothing to prove to me, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to hear it again."

I sat up and tugged at the rest of his clothes, eager to have his sculpted, naked body beneath me again.

"I could tell you," I teased. "But perhaps I should just show you instead."

He laughed, low and seductive. "Nymph and goddess no longer," he said.

"No?" I slipped out of my skirts and chemise, baring myself to him. "Then what am I now?"

A heady possessiveness that heated me all over again flashed in his gaze and he smiled.

" Mine ."