“Are you quite all right, ma’am?” asked James.
“Oh, yes, indeed, pardon me, my lord,” she said. “Er . . . a bit of arthritis, and I’m never quite certain when it will kick”—she glared at Victoria—“in. ”
“Perhaps you ought to return home and rest a bit if it’s too painful, Mama. ” Her daughter smiled blandly. Then she turned to James. “I see that you recovered from the fire with nary a scratch. ”
“I was lucky. And it ’pears that although you didn’t completely escape injury, you’re feeling better today. I’m glad to hear it. ” His blue eyes twinkled. “I was afraid you’d be feeling too ill to join me tonight. ”
Victoria opened her mouth to explain that she was, indeed,feeling the renewed throb of a headache. But Lady Melly’s strident voice overruled anything she might say, claiming that her daughter was of strong constitution and had fully recovered from her fright of the previous night.
Victoria considered whether speaking even louder than her mother would negate her claim of a headache.
“That’s quite a shame, ma’am, Lady Rockley,” James said, all charm and dimples, speaking easily over the volume of Lady Melly. “Mr. Starcasset and his friend Miss Regalado invited me to join them this evening. They claim there is some special comet that can be seen tonight in a certain location, near one of the parks. I confess, I’m not altogether sure I care about stargazing, but I thought it was a splendid excuse to see if you’d join me for a drive later tonight. ”
Victoria closed her lips around the automatic declination. George and Sara had invited James to join them for an evening ride? “Of course I’d be honored to attend with you,” she replied, aware that she had just sent Lady Melly over the moon.
What more could a matchmaking mother hope for? Victoria was certain her maternal parent was imagining a romantic carriage ride by moonlight, whereas the reality was likely something much more disagreeable. Namely, a ruse to entrap someone.
But who was the intended prey: James . . . or Victoria?
“And where might your paramour be this evening?” asked Max. His tone implied that Sebastian’s appearance would relieve him of the taxing obligation of conversing with Victoria. “Tell me there hasn’t been a lovers’ spat. You do seem a bit . . . distracted. ”
Distracted was one word to describe Victoria’s state of mind, but not the one she would have chosen.
It was after dinner. They had settled in the only sitting room on that floor—the small parlor that had entertained not only Lady Melly and her friends, but which also held the cupboard wherein the Gardella family Bible was kept. When Aunt Eustacia had been alive, and first acclimating Victoria to the world of the Venators, the three of them— four, when Kritanu was there, and sometimes Wayren— had sat here many times.
“I’m pleased to inform you that your plans for my future are still intact. Sebastian and I have done nothing but share wistful glances, swoon at the sight of the other, and spout poetry—all since you’ve given your blessing to the match. ” Her smile was sweeter than the double-iced pink sugar biscuits favored by Lady Winnie.
Max’s lips twitched. “Ah, if only I had been witness to such a spectacle. I expect it would have provided me amusement for weeks to come. ” He stretched his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. “Did Vioget position himself on one knee so as to look up into your crystalline eyes whilst waxing rhapsodic?”
“I believe I shall have a bit of sherry,” Victoria said. “Would you like me to pour you some whiskey? Apparently my aunt had a fondness for it, but I can’t say I share her taste. ” She closed her mouth with a snap, realizing how close she was coming to babbling nervously.
“By all means. ”
Victoria stood at the sideboard and prepared their drinks, then turned back to deliver the amber liquor to Max. Then she took herself to the chair near a small piecrust table where she’d sat, sharpening stakes, nearly two years ago, defending her decision to marry Philip.
A glance at the clock told her it was after nine. James was due to arrive at ten o’clock. Victoria took a significantgulp of sherry, despising the watery liquid for its weakness. And herself.
“Am I to understand that you haven’t any intention of going out tonight?” Max asked. He was looking at her over the rim of his glass. Then he drank, and put the glass back down.
“Perhaps later,” Victoria replied.
He raised his brows. “No social engagements? No vampire hunting?”
“James is to call for me later. ”
“James, is it? And what does Monsieur Vioget think of this? Or are you hunting the daytime vampire?” His eyes narrowed in speculation. “You believe it’s he, don’t you. I’m not so certain. ”
“Truly? How odd, since you were the one who suggested that it might indeed be he. ”
“Ah, so you hadn’t considered him before my mention. ” He looked utterly pleased with himself.
She stood abruptly and walked over to the cabinet which housed the Bible. “I have not seen this since the first time Aunt Eustacia told me about the legacy of the Gardellas. ”
Feeling Max’s attention on her, she fumbled the small gold key into its slot. Click, click, clunk. She swung open the bifold doors, heavy and slick.
Inside the cabinet, on its gently inclining display, rested the elderly Bible.
It was heavy, with gilt-edged pages that shone stubbornly despite its age. The leather corners were rounded and bumped, but the spine was as rigid as Aunt Eustacia’s own had been. Three faded silk bookmarks fell lifelessly from their places.