My Lord Vampire

“Good evening, then.”

Turning, he made his way down the street, his thoughts already focused on the swiftest means of making his way to Devonshire.

Soon, he assured his raging bloodlust, he would have Lady Gilbert in his grasp.

And the Medallion would be his.

All his.

Chapter 8

The drive through the park had been intended to clear Simone’s tangled thoughts. After all, there were few things more pleasurable than having a bevy of anxious gentlemen fiercely vying to gain her attention. It certainly was the best means possible of healing any wounded pride she might have felt after having nearly tossed herself at Gideon’s feet only to be rejected.

But while there had been any number of suitors who had anxiously preened and strutted in her path, she had been unable to appreciate their attempts.

What troubled her was not that she had revealed the desire she had been determined to hide at all cost— Gideon was annoyingly aware of her weakness no matter how she might wish to deny the truth—or that he had thankfully brought an end to the kiss before true disaster could occur.

What troubled her was the fact that she was no closer to understanding the gentleman who had managed to bring chaos to her life.

Who was he?

More importantly ... what was he?

Leaving the carriage Simone slowly made her way up the steps to her town house.

She had never been a woman who believed in nonsense such as witches, goblins or ghosts. She did not believe in mystical signs or those who claimed to read the future, or even ill omens.

Life had been too hard to dwell upon superstitions and the fear of vague evil. There were enough troubles without adding mythical dangers.

Now, her shrewd common sense battled to deny the evidence that Gideon was ... was not entirely human.

A shiver raced through her as she allowed the horrible thought to race through her mind.

It was not possible.

It was utterly absurd.

There was no doubt a reasonable explanation to all the seeming mystery if only she could force herself to think coherently, she tried to tell herself over and over.

But she could not manage to rid herself of the awful sense that there was far more to Gideon than just another arrogant man of leisure.

Weary of wondering if she were perhaps on her way to Bedlam, Simone waited for the door to open before she entered the foyer and handed her parasol and gloves to the servant.

If a drive would not ease her troubled thoughts, then perhaps a relaxing afternoon in the privacy of her garden would help.

Stepping toward the mirror to smooth the long curls she had pulled back with a simple ribbon, she had barely managed to raise her hands when Daisy came charging into the foyer with a flushed countenance.

“My lady,” she breathed in obvious excitement.

Startled, and not a little alarmed, Simone turned to regard her servant with a worried gaze.

“Good heavens, Daisy, what is the matter?”

“You must come and see what has arrived,” the girl breathed with an impatient wave of her hand.

Regaining command of her jumping nerves, Simone chided herself for her hasty flare of fear. Botheration. She had been certain that the house had been invaded, or perhaps worse. Now it appeared there was nothing more alarming than the usual gifts that arrived daily from her admirers.

“Yes, yes.” She returned her attention to the mirror. “I will be along in a moment.”

Disappointed, the maid dipped a curtsy. “Very good, my lady.”

Straightening the neckline of her shimmering buttercup gown, Simone at last turned to make her way up the stairs toward the front parlor. It would be there that the housekeeper would have distributed the various flowers and tiny gifts that would have arrived that morning.

She possessed little interest in the offerings, but the servants enjoyed preening over her success. Stepping into the elegant room she swiftly noted Daisy standing beside the settee and the housekeeper standing by the heavy chimneypiece with her hands upon her hips.

“Now, what was it you wished me to see, Daisy?” she demanded before her mouth abruptly dropped open in shock. Piled upon the far sofa and numerous chairs were long lengths of shimmering cloth. Satin, silk, cambric, wool, muslin and velvet glowed in the late afternoon sunlight, along with ribbons and delicate lace in all colors. “Oh.”

Nearly hopping up and down in her excitement Daisy clapped her hands together.

“Mr. Ravel’s footman arrived earlier this morning to deliver these.”

Gideon?

Thoroughly bemused, Simone moved across the room with a shake of her head.