Читать книгу Always - Krystle Triplett - Страница 7

1

London, Early 1800s

Tristan

“Really, Tristan, this seems pointless,” Sabrina Anderson, Lady Dashwood, complained breathlessly as she heaved herself over the low garden wall. “Oh, and thank you very much for the assistance. I nearly tore my dress.” After brushing off pieces of dirt that may have clung to the burgundy silk creation, she tried to adjust the low-cut bodice before she fell out of her dress.

Tristan glanced back over his shoulder. “Apologies, dear,” he murmured, “but we couldn’t very well walk in the front door. Lord and Lady Tilden now despise me and anyone who associates with me, as you well may know.”

He looked back toward the window to see if anyone was looking in their direction. As he took her arm to help her up the garden path leading to the open French doors of the crowded ballroom, she mumbled under her breath about ungrateful men and their infuriating attitudes.

Tristan noticed that she seemed to be complaining a lot in the last few days, or perhaps he had just run out of patience for it. Either way it seemed like his liaison with the lovely widow was coming to an end. Tristan sighed. Was it really worth the trouble to find another mistress? Perhaps he was being rash. After all, she was a beautiful lady who served her purpose and did so very well.

“I still think we should have gone to Jezebel’s,” complained Sabrina. “There’s never anything exciting that happens at the Tilden’s ball. Just a bunch of whining, simpering misses, and wannabe rakes. Let’s leave.”

Then again perhaps he had let the affair go on too long, thought Tristan. “We can’t very well leave now,” he said aloud. “Tilden is on his way over. We wouldn’t wish to be rude, now would we, pet?” As the robust man made his way to them through the crowded ballroom, Tristan glanced around, looking at the swirling dresses that wafted the scents of beeswax, perfume, and body odor throughout the room. The grimace on his face was more for the smell than the man now standing in front of him.

“How did you get in here, Bradley? I gave specific instructions to keep you out!” exclaimed Benjamin Finch, Lord Tilden. “It’s bad enough you show up uninvited but accompanied by this…this…woman!” He was trying to keep his furious gaze on Tristan, but his eyes kept slipping to the comely widow and her tight-fitting bodice.

“Oh come now, my lord, surely you don’t mean to send us away,” purred Lady Dashwood, as she very slowly ran her finger down the front of his person, stopping only when he grabbed her wrist about two inches above the top of his trousers.

He glanced back and forth between Tristan and the stunning red head who was batting her eyelashes at him. “Very well. You may stay this time, but one speck of trouble and I will have you both thrown out in front of the entire nobility of London.”

“Wouldn’t dream of causing trouble, my lord,” drawled Tristan, as he took Lady Dashwood’s arm. “We only came for the festivities you offer, not the ones we truly enjoy.”

Lord Tilden’s face turned an alarming shade of purple, but he kept his mouth closed and turned away, probably heading off to find a stiff drink. What a shame, thought Tristan. A nice fight with a pair of footmen might be just the thing he needed to cure him of this restlessness that he’d had for the past fortnight.

He glanced to his left. “Come, my dear, let’s take a stroll about the room,” he said into her ear. “Lady Tilden has spotted us, and I’m afraid she will continue where her beloved husband left off. And unfortunately, I don’t think you can persuade her half as well as you did him.”

Sabrina laughed a deep, seductive sound that made several heads, male and female, turn her way. “I wouldn’t be so sure, darling,” she said in his direction. “Lady Tilden is much more masculine than her husband. She definitely wears the pants in their family, in more ways than one, I believe.”

Tristan didn’t feel like explaining that he knew for a fact that wasn’t true. Lady Tilden did enjoy the company of men. This is why Lord Tilden didn’t want him within one hundred yards of her. Tilden knew she had approached Tristan with an offer at the soirée last week, an offer that he had to refuse. Married women were too much trouble. She was currently shooting daggers at him from across the ballroom; apparently, she didn’t take rejection well.

Tristan shrugged. He did the honorable thing and people were still upset with him. He made it a habit of not stepping on another man’s toes, but even if there was no significant other for Lady Tilden, she wasn’t the type of woman he went for: too skinny, with ordinary brown hair and eyes. Some might consider her pretty, but Tristan preferred more diversity and more flesh, hence Lady Dashwood with her red hair and curves.

Tristan was pondering this as he felt a heavy clap on his shoulder.

“Tristan Bradley, as I live and breathe, I never thought I would see you at this ball, not after the events of the Radcliff soirée.”

“Jonathan, I see that you also passed up the excitement of Jez’s for this dreary ball,” said Tristan, while shaking the hand of his good friend Jonathan Meyers.

“Tristan, if you find it so boring, then why did you force us to attend?” whined Lady Dashwood.

“I didn’t force you,” grated Tristan. “You said you wished to go wherever I was.” He knew he was being rather short with her, but he couldn’t help it. Her question bothered him because he, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why he wanted to be here either. He only knew he felt he must be here. Like his very existence depended upon it.

“Ah, Lady Dashwood. What a sight you are! Why, you are the envy of every woman here, and if you shall give me this dance, I shall be the envy of every man,” said Jonathan, as he bent over her hand. He must have been trying to spare her more of Tristan’s bad temper.

She looked at Tristan. “Are you at least going to dance with me?”

“No.”

“Very well, sir,” she said as she turned away from Tristan to face his friend. “I’ll dance with you. At least you seem to appreciate my company.” Tristan watched the two walk off toward the dance floor, shaking his head and laughing at the smug smile and wink from his friend. If Jonathan wanted her, he could have her. Sabrina and he were over; he just had to officially let her know that. A pretty bauble or two and he’d be done with her.

He was still chuckling as he walked over to a group of his other companions. “Hello, gents. Anything exciting I should know about?”

“Tristan?”

“Bradley, good to see you!”

“What brings you to this party?”

He acknowledged each of his friends with a nod or a handshake, then he answered Harold Cole’s question with one of his own.

“Have any of you seen William yet? He was supposed to unlock the back gate for us, but we had to climb over a wall instead. It was damned difficult with a whining chit clinging to my leg.”

They all laughed at the image. “I believe Will should have been here by now. He’s always ghastly early to these things. But this is only the first dance,” said Douglas Hale.

“Wonder why he has yet to arrive? The man is never late for anything, even fashionably so,” pondered Tristan as he glanced around the crowded ballroom. William had been his best friend for a number of years. They were both young immortals in a large city with a growing population of both mortals and immortals. Most of the immortals in London were much older than them.

“I hear he’s supposed to debut his sister tonight,” whispered David Benton.

Tristan’s head whipped back to David, eyes narrowed slightly. “His sister?” he asked suspiciously. “What sister? The man is my best friend. If he had a sister, I would know about it.”

“It’s true,” admitted Douglas, looking a tad uncomfortable as he pulled at his necktie. “William told me he was bringing her. They are due to arrive any minute.”

“Why didn’t he tell me he had a sister? We’ve known each other for”—a slight pause as he realized he about slipped up and said something to give away his true age—“several years,” he finished. “Where has she been all this time?” He and William had known each other for almost thirty years. They were around the same age; he was in his nineties and William was around one hundred thirty, which was still very young for an immortal.

“Maybe it slipped his mind,” offered David with a slight grimace on his face. “He only just mentioned her to me last week. He said she just got into town.”

“Slipped his mind?” said Tristan slowly, each word dripping with sarcasm. It seemed as if William had told each of them his sister would be here tonight yet failed to mention her very existence to him.

“Having a sibling is not something one forgets, believe me.” Thinking of his older brother on the continent always put him in a melancholy mood. It had been years since they had seen each other, but they still wrote as frequently as the mail would get the letters across the ocean.

“I meant perhaps he didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“Or possibly he was afraid you would be too interested,” chuckled Douglas as he winked at Tristan.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” growled Tristan. He didn’t like the implication in the other man’s words or the fact that the others seemed to agree with him.

They all stepped away from him slightly. “N-nothing, Tristan,” said Douglas, stuttering slightly. They all knew what that low voice from Tristan signaled, and none of them wanted to anger him. “I only meant that you have a way with the ladies. He might have been trying to protect her or some such thing.”

Tristan considered what Douglas said as he tried to fight the hurt that he felt at the betrayal of his closest friend. Why would William keep this from him? Surely, he didn’t think Tristan so evil he would go for his best friend’s younger sister. He looked around the room and noticed all the women batting their eyes at him. Then again, maybe William was worried about how she would react.

“Speak of the devil,” murmured Harold, looking over Tristan’s shoulder. Tristan turned around and caught sight of William St. James and a woman he couldn’t see clearly. He was helping her off with her cloak. Ah, so this must be the mysterious sister. All he could see of her so far was honey blond hair curled with light blue ribbons. Everything else was still covered by the cloak.

Tristan wondered if something was wrong with her, to keep William from introducing them. Then again, she must be immortal like both of them if she was truly his sister, therefore she must be a beauty. Their kind was typically way above average in looks. They almost never lacked physical beauty; most were just missing the inner kind.

Once the cloak was removed, Tristan could see from behind and slightly to the side, that her body was something that should never be covered, curves that can make a man’s mouth water and legs that went on for miles. Oh, please let her face match the rest of that perfection, prayed Tristan, already forgetting that this was his best friend’s younger sister and he’d said he wasn’t interested. Finally, the crowds parted, and she turned around…and time stopped as her eyes met his from across the ballroom.

*****

Lily

“Don’t make me go tonight, William. I beg you!” pleaded Lily St. James to her older brother. They were seated across from each other in his couch on the way to the Tilden’s ball. She was wearing an ice blue gown, with a semi-low-cut bodice. The material soft and flowing, spreading out all around her on the seat. It had taken hours to get ready for tonight’s ball, her maids working furiously away on her hair and clothing.

All day, she had a feeling that tonight was going to be a very important night. The night that her last few weeks of nervousness and impatience had been leading up to. She wanted to be here more than anything, and it frightened her enough to want to stay home. Something monumental was about to happen, and she didn’t know if she was ready for it.

“You’ve already made us late, Lily. We’ve probably missed the first dance,” grumbled William as he peered out the curtain window at the dark streets of London. “I promised Jane I would save that for her, so I hope you’re happy.”

“Oh, William, you know she’ll forgive you! They always forgive you,” teased Lily. Her brother was a scoundrel when it came to the ladies. They practically flocked to him, what with his sandy brown hair and clear green eyes. He was very popular with women of all ages. Lily knew this from all the tales she had heard over the last two weeks.

“Well, you better hope so,” he said, shutting the curtain and turning back to her. “Because otherwise we’ll have to think of a different way to get her fathers’ support.” As he adjusted his tie, he gave her a knowing look that made her stomach plummet. She knew exactly what different way her brother planned on getting his backing.

“No,” she said, raising her head to look down her nose at him. “I will not allow you to take away that poor man’s freewill over something as silly as one of your new schemes. It isn’t right.”

“First of all,” explained William, “it isn’t a silly scheme. It is a legitimate business proposition that could benefit both of us. Secondly, you need to stop denying who and what you are. Compulsion is one of our many gifts. We’re immortals, Lily! Why deny it?” Both of them had inherited extra powers from their immortal parents, but compulsion was also very strong in their family.

“I know you are still too young to fully understand what being an immortal means, but one day, when a human discovers what you are by accident, what then?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “Are you just going to let them go when you have the ability to stop them?”

“Taking away someone’s freewill is wrong,” she said very quietly, fidgeting with her blue silk gloves. “Because we are stronger and more advanced, we should be able to take the high road, not force someone to do something that he or she clearly didn’t want to do.”

The two of them have had this argument a thousand times it seemed, with neither of them bending on their opinions. William may be young compared to the thousands of others of their kind, but he still thought the same way that most of them did. William was born over a century ago but still looked like he was in his late twenties. Their kind froze into their immortality at their peak physical age. Lily hadn’t yet reached hers. If he was considered young and naive, then she might has well be an infant for all the good it did her to have an opinion on matters such as these.

William took up residence in London almost five years ago, escaping from France and the wars still going on there. He tried to persuade Lily to leave with him, but at the time she wished to remain with their mother until she was absolutely forced to leave. Three weeks ago, she decided that she’d finally had enough and left behind the comforts of the only home she had ever known for the hustle and bustle of London life.

William sighed. “We can’t keep having this argument, Lily. You are the only one who feels this way. It’s not like we’re hurting them. Even Mother thinks you’re too soft-hearted.”

There was a pause in the argument, the only sound being that of the horse’s hooves on the cobblestone drive and the carriage wheels rolling along after it. Lily had already lost track of the argument, lost in thoughts of home and the life she left behind.

“I miss her,” whispered Lily, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over when she thought of her mother back in France. She wasn’t able to come back to London for another twenty years or so, once everyone who knew her here either died or forgot who she was. If their kind stayed in one place too long, then people would start to get suspicions as to why they hadn’t aged. Lucia St. James was over a thousand years old, and she still looked to be in her mid-twenties. It made having her grown children around kind of a difficult situation to explain to humans.

“I know you do, Lil, but I’m sure this war will be over before too long. You can go back home then or just wait till she’s able to come back to London,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He was never very close to their mother, preferring to set out on his own at a young age and send the occasional letter. These last two weeks with William was the most time she had spent with him in her entire life.

“Wait twenty years here!” exclaimed Lily, her eyebrows practically in her hair line, her voice rising with each word she spoke. “I know that doesn’t seem like that long to you, but for me that is a lifetime, literally!”

William chuckled. “Too true, sis.”

“Mother wouldn’t make me go tonight,” whispered Lily, almost too quiet for even his superior hearing to pick up.

He threw up his hands. “Geez, Lily, it’s a ball not a hanging.” As he pulled on his gloves and adjusted the fingers, he said, “You used to love going to balls back home, all your letters said so.” Content with the fit of his gloves he glanced up at her expectantly.

“Well yes, I did love them in Paris, William. I knew everyone there.” Lily had been very popular with the nobility of Paris. Her looks made everyone want to be close to her, and once they were, they realized her personality was just as beautiful.

“You will know several people here tonight. I know you have been making friends these last two weeks, plus you’ve built up quite a few admirers, or so I hear,” he said with a wag of his eyebrows. “Anyone caught your fancy?”

“Don’t be ridiculous William,” said Lily with an indulgent look on her face. She knew he was trying to change the subject to cheer her up, but asking about her love life was not the way to go. “What would be the point in dating a human? It’s very unlikely he will be my promised one,” she said, an almost wistful sound to her voice.

All immortals spent their lives searching for their fated mate or promised one as it had come to be known. Most only found him or her after hundreds if not thousands of years, and they were almost always another immortal. It was possible to find their promised one in a human, but it didn’t happen very often. It was very hard for a human to become an immortal without tuning into a vampire. The transition was hard on the body and mind. The immortal population had grown over the years, but it was still miniscule compared to that of the human one. There were less than ten thousand of them spread over the world. With each new discovery of another land, more and more of their kind left their homeland and traveled across the sea, for the promise of a fresh start.

“I’ve met a few of the other immortals who live here and none of them will be here tonight.” Larger cities had places where immortals could go to mingle with each other. London actually had few because of its size. Lily had managed to visit all of them already.

“Well actually, Lily, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” started William very carefully. He knew this could be a tricky conversation. “One of my good friends is in town, and I don’t believe you have met him yet. I wouldn’t mention him now, but there’s a possibility he will show up tonight…although I hope not.” He had tried to persuade Tristan to go out with his mistress tonight by sending her over to his townhouse. There was no way even Tristan would be so brash as to bring her to the Tilden’s ball.

“Oh, really, William?” asked Lily excitedly. “Who is it? Why haven’t I met him yet?” Lily was very young, but she was also very lonely. She would love to meet her promised one, even though she knew that it would likely be hundreds of years before that happened.

“Easy, Lily,” cautioned William. “He’s not someone I think you should concern yourself with.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, it’s just that he’s not exactly a paragon of virtue. His moral compass doesn’t always point north. Not that he’s a bad man,” said William quickly before she could interrupt. “He’s just a little rough around the edges. He’s had a difficult life.”

“I thought you said he was your good friend?”

“He is, Lil. And like I said, he is a good man, he’s just a little bit of a lady’s man, that’s all.”

“Even more so than you?” teased Lily with a raised eyebrow.

“Very funny, and yes. He makes me look like a saint. Any young lady he associates with usually finds herself ruined, if not literally then just because of his reputation.” There seemed to be a note of envy in his voice as he talked of his friend. Why anyone would admire traits like these was completely lost on her.

“William! Whatever are you friends with that man for? He sounds absolutely dreadful.” Their kind was always very popular with others because of their looks. Most of them were discreet though and chose to blend into the background as much as possible. For someone to be that much in the spotlight of London society, he had a higher chance of someone realizing he was more than human.

“Well, actually,” started William, probably going to defend his friend. Fortunately for him, they could feel the carriage start to slow down. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. Like I said, he shouldn’t be her tonight, but there will be other scoundrels sniffing around you for sure.”

“Stop being so overprotective,” she said with a final tug on her gloves. “Of course, I’ll be careful. I have one more question though. If he is such a good friend of yours, then how come he won’t be here tonight?”

“It’s a long story,” explained William, with a slightly guilty look on his face.

She knew that look. “What did you do, William?”

“Nothing.”

“William.”

“Oh very well, I was supposed to help him enter tonight’s assembly, but it may have slipped my mind. Besides, I have a feeling he will be rather busy,” he said with a slight grin on his face. Whatever that grin meant, for some reason it almost made Lily feel like she should blush. Obviously, her brother had manipulated certain events to prevent the two of them from meeting.

“You did this because of me?” asked Lily. She got her answer when she watched the look of guilt on his face transfer to one of steely determination. He was doing this out of a sense of brotherly concern and an almost paternal protection.

“I thought it best that the two of you do not meet quite yet.”

“For god’s sake, William, I can take care of myself!” exclaimed Lily, throwing her hands up in the air.

“I know that, but I’m just looking out for you. Now come on,” said William as he started to open the door. “Let’s go in here and charm Jane and her father so he will invest in my irrigation scheme.”

“Very well,” she said as she descended from the carriage with the help of a waiting footman. She then stopped and turned around, facing her brother as he put his hat back on his head. “Why did he need to sneak in tonight anyways? Was he not invited?”

“Just another reason why you should have nothing to do with him,” he said as he climbed down from the carriage. He looked splendid in his evening wear.

“Why wasn’t he invited, William?” she asked as they turned toward the house. “Everyone was invited tonight. My new friend Sarah said so. If he’s that popular in this town, then surely he would get an invitation.”

He took her arm to lead her up the steps. “He is currently having a disagreement with the lord and lady of the house. It’s nothing to concern yourself over, Lil,” he said while patting her hand.

They were to the top of the staircase. The entrance to the ballroom was on the other side of these doors. Lily could feel her heart racing. It felt as if she was walking toward a firing squad, not a party.

With a flourish, a pair of footmen opened the doors and stepped back, allowing the duo to walk into the room. The host and hostess were already mingling, and luckily it was too late to be announced. They might be able to sneak in without causing too much of a fuss.

“Help me off with my shawl, William,” said Lily. “You were the one grumbling about gentlemanly behavior earlier.”

“I was getting to it, Lily,” he said while glancing around the room. “I was trying to spot Jane.” He was so distracted looking about that he almost got her arms tangled up in her shawl.

“I think you fancy her,” said Lily as she finally shrugged out of it. She was saying anything now, trying to distract herself from the feeling of being watched. It felt like a thousand eyes were on them. So much for sneaking in unnoticed. She took a deep breath and tuned around.

“Don’t be crazy, Lily, she is—”

Lily knew he had kept talking, but she couldn’t seem to focus on what he was saying. All of her attention was immediately centered on the tall, muscular, extremely good-looking man across the ballroom. It seemed as if the moment her gaze met his that all the air rushed out of her lungs and her heart stopped beating. He was magnificent.