from the psychic vampire demons. That’s what we must focus on.”
She lowered her eyes. “Very well, I’ll be at the reception tonight, but if you hear from Darius, promise you’ll let me know.”
“You’ll be the first to hear.” Amelia leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks, and whispered, “Remember, love is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not in love with him?” Maybe if she spoke the words enough times, it would come true.
Her friend raised her hands in defeat. “All right, fine. You don’t love him. Just make sure you come to our reception tonight.”
Once left alone, Elizabeth started pacing again. What had Amelia been talking about? Of course she didn’t love Darius. She respected the man, she admired him, but love? They had been friends for one hundred years, but that was an entirely different matter. She paused in the middle of her pacing. Or was it? What if Amelia was right? What if she did truly love him?
Ever since she’d given him her blood, something had been growing between them. She shoved the thought from her mind. What good would it do if she loved him? She had no soul, and if she had no soul to give, what was the purpose of love? Loving him was a mistake she couldn’t afford to make.
She kept the draperies pulled tight against the fading sunlight, shuffling through her gowns, trying to decide what to wear to the king’s reception. She found it a sorry distraction, and couldn’t stop thinking of Darius. The musky scent of his skin, the feel of his muscled body pressed up against hers, and the honeyed taste of his lips on hers was impressed upon her mind. What would she do without him?
Finally, nine o’clock arrived. She wore a long-trained gown made of black velvet with a silver lace covering it, with diamonds glittering from her throat and arms. The coach delivered her to the courtyard of Denham House, where the large estate ran through the palace grounds. Amelia’s linkmen held torches and led her up the sweeping stone staircase.
Amelia and John stood in the antechamber, greeting their guests. When Elizabeth entered, Amelia grasped her hand and John announced her as her Ladyship, the Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull.
“You are my unmarried cousin from Kingston. None of that side of the family ever troubles to come to court, so you are safe,” Amelia said softly.
She nodded and stepped into their sumptuous drawing room, which was hung with draperies of gold velvet, dozens of candles burned in the gold-leafed wall-sconces, and chandeliers dripped thousands of crystal prisms from the frescoed ceiling. The sound of laughter and music assaulted her ears, and she was quickly surrounded by the hum of laughing ladies and courtly gentlemen.
Once Amelia finished her welcoming duties, she took Elizabeth by the hand and led her toward Charles, who already sat at a card table holding a dice-box he was just prepared to throw. When he looked at Amelia and Elizabeth standing across the table from him, he set down the box, speaking to Buckingham, who stood behind him, “Here, George, you take my place. I’m never good at dice, and besides, with my tight-fisted Parliament, I can ill-afford to lose.”
Laughter rippled across the room from the ladies and courtiers who had heard the king’s quip. He strolled out onto the balcony with the two women. “Well now, Amelia, how is it you’ve been hiding this beautiful creature away from your beloved monarch?” His dark eyes snapped with passion and good humor, scrutinizing Elizabeth with an intensity that startled her.
“Your Majesty, may I introduce you to my cousin, Elizabeth Curran, Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull?”
She made a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty, it’s a great honor to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Your Ladyship.” He offered Elizabeth his arm and nodded in Amelia’s direction. “Do you mind if I dance with your lovely cousin?”
Amelia curtsied and smiled gleefully
She lowered her eyes. “Very well, I’ll be at the reception tonight, but if you hear from Darius, promise you’ll let me know.”
“You’ll be the first to hear.” Amelia leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks, and whispered, “Remember, love is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not in love with him?” Maybe if she spoke the words enough times, it would come true.
Her friend raised her hands in defeat. “All right, fine. You don’t love him. Just make sure you come to our reception tonight.”
Once left alone, Elizabeth started pacing again. What had Amelia been talking about? Of course she didn’t love Darius. She respected the man, she admired him, but love? They had been friends for one hundred years, but that was an entirely different matter. She paused in the middle of her pacing. Or was it? What if Amelia was right? What if she did truly love him?
Ever since she’d given him her blood, something had been growing between them. She shoved the thought from her mind. What good would it do if she loved him? She had no soul, and if she had no soul to give, what was the purpose of love? Loving him was a mistake she couldn’t afford to make.
She kept the draperies pulled tight against the fading sunlight, shuffling through her gowns, trying to decide what to wear to the king’s reception. She found it a sorry distraction, and couldn’t stop thinking of Darius. The musky scent of his skin, the feel of his muscled body pressed up against hers, and the honeyed taste of his lips on hers was impressed upon her mind. What would she do without him?
Finally, nine o’clock arrived. She wore a long-trained gown made of black velvet with a silver lace covering it, with diamonds glittering from her throat and arms. The coach delivered her to the courtyard of Denham House, where the large estate ran through the palace grounds. Amelia’s linkmen held torches and led her up the sweeping stone staircase.
Amelia and John stood in the antechamber, greeting their guests. When Elizabeth entered, Amelia grasped her hand and John announced her as her Ladyship, the Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull.
“You are my unmarried cousin from Kingston. None of that side of the family ever troubles to come to court, so you are safe,” Amelia said softly.
She nodded and stepped into their sumptuous drawing room, which was hung with draperies of gold velvet, dozens of candles burned in the gold-leafed wall-sconces, and chandeliers dripped thousands of crystal prisms from the frescoed ceiling. The sound of laughter and music assaulted her ears, and she was quickly surrounded by the hum of laughing ladies and courtly gentlemen.
Once Amelia finished her welcoming duties, she took Elizabeth by the hand and led her toward Charles, who already sat at a card table holding a dice-box he was just prepared to throw. When he looked at Amelia and Elizabeth standing across the table from him, he set down the box, speaking to Buckingham, who stood behind him, “Here, George, you take my place. I’m never good at dice, and besides, with my tight-fisted Parliament, I can ill-afford to lose.”
Laughter rippled across the room from the ladies and courtiers who had heard the king’s quip. He strolled out onto the balcony with the two women. “Well now, Amelia, how is it you’ve been hiding this beautiful creature away from your beloved monarch?” His dark eyes snapped with passion and good humor, scrutinizing Elizabeth with an intensity that startled her.
“Your Majesty, may I introduce you to my cousin, Elizabeth Curran, Countess of Kingston-Upon-Hull?”
She made a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty, it’s a great honor to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Your Ladyship.” He offered Elizabeth his arm and nodded in Amelia’s direction. “Do you mind if I dance with your lovely cousin?”
Amelia curtsied and smiled gleefully
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