The Rest Falls Away

evening, Phillip drew her along with him past the end of the brick terrace and down one of the four paths that spiked from it.

As his healthy stride slowed to a stroll and he remained silent, Victoria could hold back no longer. 'Why have you not posted the announcement in the Times?'

'I have been wondering the same thing about you.'

'But… thank you. That's very kind of you to help me save face. But it's no matter to me.'

They had walked quite far from the party, and Victoria was just about to speak again when they rounded a bend in the pea-gravel path and came upon a small arbor. A stone bench sat under the archway, and more clematis and climbing roses were tangled in it.

Victoria thought Phillip meant for her to sit when he slid his arm from her grip, but as she moved toward the bench, he pulled her back—and into his arms.

He kissed her… oh, he kissed her. She recognized there the same emotion she'd felt upon seeing him again: familiarity, comfort, and something new… need. It told her all she needed to know.

After a long interval, in which she found her fingers loosening the hair clubbed at the nape of his neck and her belly pulled up against his, Phillip pulled back and looked down at her. 'I have missed you. I meant to stay away and let you do what you would tonight, for I have no further claim to you, but in the end, I could not. And it wasn't because of what Society thinks. It was because of what I wanted.'

Victoria blinked rapidly. 'I've missed you too, Phillip. I checked the paper every day, sure that the announcement would appear. And it never did.'

'I thought you would be the one to cry off.'

'But I did not. Phillip, you said…' She stepped back and he let the hands clasped at the base of her back release. 'Nothing has changed. I cannot tell you what you wish to know.'

'I have been thinking—doing much thinking at my club, riding through the park at dawn, in my study.' His smile was crooked. 'In all of the places that I would be certain not to run into you.'

She smiled back. She'd been doing the same… in all the places she was certain not to run into him, like the streets of St. Giles after midnight. The bowels of London.

'You mentioned destiny. Your destiny. You said it was indelible, unchangeable. But Victoria, I do not believe destiny is a fixed thing. There is some choice that comes with it.

'For example. I was destined to love you—I know that is true, for I never forgot you from that summer. I did not even think to seek a wife until this Season… and you were in mourning for two years after you should have come out. As if you were waiting for me, and for the right time. Or as if I were waiting for you… to be ready.

'My destiny is to love you. But I have a choice as to how I can fulfill this certain thing, this destiny. I can love you and be with you, or I can love you from afar. After tonight it became clear to me that I cannot love you from afar. That I must love you with me.' He took her hands and raised them, gloves and all, to kiss the backs of them, looking at her over them as he did so.

'Phillip—'

He moved her hands up to press against her mouth. 'Victoria. Whatever is your destiny, you do have some choice. You can decide how to handle it, whether to embrace it or fight it. Whether to share it or hide it.'

'Phillip, I swear to you… I swear that this thing between us is nothing that I can change and nothing that I can tell you about. But…' It was her turn to press gloved fingers to his mouth to keep him from responding. 'But if you will still have me, I can promise you that I will make the choice to balance that part of my life with the life we'll build together. That is the part of my legacy that I can control.'

Closing his fingers around her wrist, he tugged her hand away from his mouth. 'Then, since there is not and could never be anyone for me but you, Victoria, we will have to let our destinies live together.'

And he kissed her.

Chapter Twenty Maximilian Is Pressed into Service

'I received this today.' Max flung a thick ivory envelope onto Eustacia's piecrust table. It slid to the edge of the highly polished oak, knocking her stake aside. 'I cannot believe she is going to go through with this madness.'

Eustacia knew what it was; she had received her invitation to Victoria's wedding a week earlier. She exchanged glances with Kritanu, who was working on fitting the wooden pieces of a new weapon he'd created. 'I didn't realize you were on the guest list.'

He snorted. 'She's asked me to attend in order to make certain… as she puts it… 'nothing untoward happens.' She wants me to patrol for vampires while she gets married!'

Eustacia camouflaged her chuckle with a cough. 'Well, she certainly can't be doing it herself, now, can she? And I am in no position to help out, with my arthritis. The rest of the family thinks I'm mad anyway. They would send me off to Bedlam if they saw me skulking about with a stake! Max, Max… I have my reservations about her choice, but I can't stand in her way. She deserves the chance to try it if she feels so strongly about it.'

Max stalked over to the sideboard and helped himself to a glass of whiskey. 'It's ridiculous. You could forbid her, Eustacia.'

'And face the wrath of my niece Melly? I'd rather come up against Lilith in person than that.' As a joke went, it was a feeble attempt, and she knew it. But Kritanu, bless him, gave a little laugh and went back to what he was doing. But not before she saw the sympathy in his jet-black eyes.

It had been so much simpler when it was just the two of them, fighting, studying, loving.

'Max, really. She's managed to help us locate and steal the Book of Antwartha; she's been hunting and executing vampires on a regular basis even while maintaining her societal duties. And it has been a great help to us for her to have access to some of these events, where she can move about freely and find and kill any vampires that have managed to penetrate that level of the ton. That is something not as easy for you or I to do, being from Italy, and something we have needed for a long time. As the Marchioness of Rockley, she'll have even more access to these kinds of venues. And perhaps even have the chance to do so at court.'

'Yes, and when she's the Marchioness of Rockley, she'll have a husband who will want to follow her when she comes out on patrol, as he did two weeks ago. Or who won't let her go at all, and because he's her husband he'll be able to keep her in on the nights we might need her. Or enforce her presence at more and more of those ridiculous balls, or evenings at Almack's, or weekends in Bath… We have life-and-death business here, and my concern is that she'll be less available for help when we need it.' As always, when he became impassioned about something, his English grew thicker with their homeland accent.

'You've never been one to want to work with someone, Max, so why are you so concerned about it now?'

'Lilith grows stronger every month, and we need to work together. All of us. And what happens, Eustacia, when Victoria begets an heir for the Marquess of Rockley? She can't be hunting vampires in that condition.'

Porca l'oca! Max was right. Eustacia had her own worries, but she'd tried to push them away, tried to play devil's advocate with him because she didn't want the rift between him and Victoria to grow any wider. But she could not argue with his points, and indeed, had spent some sleepless nights worrying on them herself.

From all aspects, it could not work. She could not believe it would, had never known it to happen. Yet Eustacia had learned not to live by absolutes. Just because it hadn't happened didn't mean that it could not.

Time to change the subject.

'And the marquess—I presume he has recovered from his experience at the Silver Chalice and is not rushing about London trying to hunt vampires?'

Max grimaced, presumably a reaction to the large gulp of whiskey he downed. 'He called on me the day following the incident. Did I not tell you that?'

'No… you did not.'

'He wanted to know why I put the salvi in his drink. He was quite… agitated. We nearly came to fisticuffs. He appeared to be under the impression that I had taken Victoria to the Silver Chalice,