Читать книгу Blood Secret - Sharon Page - Страница 8

4

Lies and Vows

“What are you doing, Lucy? Why are you packing?”

Lucy whirled to find Helena standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Her sister was tearing at a piece of embroidery, nervously shredding it. With her pale gold hair and enormous blue eyes, Helena was a beauty, and at nineteen, she was also old enough to understand what their brother’s stupid gambling had done to the family. In fact, Helena understood all too well—Lucy knew her lovely sister was noble enough to agree to a wretched marriage to save them all.

Lucy let the blue silk gown in her arms fall into her open trunk. She was still shaking. It had been draining to face her fear and painful memories and go to bed with the duke. It had stunned her to actually like it. She’d been wild with terror when she’d started to shift into dragon form.

It had been a miracle she hadn’t been caught. At least she had been alone in his bedroom when she had shifted shape, but as a dragon, her head had brushed the high ceiling and her tail had been curled and pressing against the wall. Then she’d managed to regain control of her body and change back. Trembling, exhausted, disheveled, and itchy with dried perspiration, she had summoned his maid, dressed, and come home.

In her carriage, she had concocted a story. Now she faced the elder of her two sisters and used it. “I have an invitation to a house party.”

Helena frowned. “Lucy, it is the beginning to the Season. Who on earth would be having a house party? Everyone is in London.”

“Not all the Drakes,” she said, amazed at how smoothly she was able to lie. “Since we can’t shop for our prospective husbands on the marriage mart, many of the dragon clans do not bother to attend Society events. There will be eligible men in this house party, Helena. Drago men. Men who are dragons, like we are. If I can snare one and marry well, then I can rescue us.”

Helena crossed her arms, sighed heavily. Lucy flinched as her sister’s perceptive gaze searched her face. She tried to give no hint that all this was a complete fabrication.

“Lucy,” Helena said. “You said you would never think of marrying—”

“I am ready to marry now,” Lucy broke in. “I’ve recovered from Allan Ferrars.” She went to her wardrobe so Helena could not see her face. The more impassive and natural she tried to make her expression appear, the more Lucy was certain she wore an enormous sign on her head that read LIAR.

“Are you certain?” Helena came over to her, and touched her arm. Doubt furrowed her sister’s smooth, pretty forehead. Helena knew her far too well.

Bother. Lucy had never lied to any member of her family before... .

Well, that was not true. Neither of her two sisters knew exactly what Ferrars had done or what she had seen when she had yanked open the bedroom door. They did not know he had battled with Jack and that their brother had been forced to kill him. Not telling them why had not been a direct falsehood. It had more been a lie by omission.

She didn’t want Helena to know what she was doing. And anyway, she had no choice now: She had already done it. She had given up her virginity, and she certainly couldn’t retrieve it. The problem—losing her virginity made her feel different. She felt more world-wise and experienced, older, and more ... more aware of everything around her. The lavender sprinkled on her underclothes smelled more sweet and intense, like a field of wildflowers. She was aware of the touch of things—the caress of her muslin petticoats as they brushed her thighs. The tug of her garters on the sensitive skin of her legs. The way her bodice bound her breasts. And since she felt so ... different, she was afraid someone who knew her well would guess what she had done.

“It’s not just to save us,” she said firmly. “I want to marry. I know Father would have wanted it, and I can’t live with myself for disappointing him.”

She hated herself in that moment. Using their father’s wishes to convince her sister.

As she expected, Helena’s eyes teared. But to Lucy’s surprise, Helena vehemently shook her head. “Father would not have forced you to do something you didn’t want. He truly thought Mr. Ferrars was a gentleman and a noble dragon. Father would not want you to marry if you didn’t wish to.”

“I know. I’m going to open my heart and fall in love, Helly. I promise. I know wonderful gentlemen will be at this party and one will sweep me off my feet.” The lie was so very much the opposite of what was going to happen that her throat felt thick.

“How long will you be gone?”

“A fortnight.”

Helena’s eyes widened. “With Jack missing?”

“Creadmore will look after both you and Beatrix.” Creadmore was loyal—he had been Father’s butler for twenty years. He would ensure the family was safe. But Helena’s ingenuous question reminded Lucy that she could not look for Jack for the two wretched weeks she had to spend with the duke. “I will write every day, Helena,” she promised impulsively. “I’ll send letters by footman or by the express.” Which would save her from having to explain a London postmark.

She was weaving a tangled mess.

But in two weeks, the debt would be paid. They would be safe. Then she could find Jack, and she would give him a kick in the breeches for all the trouble he’d caused.

As for her ruination and possible pregnancy ... she wouldn’t think of that now. She would give Jack an extra kick in his behind if she was expecting a child.

At least, she was certain Jack was alive and safe. He always ran away when he got into trouble. It had driven Father mad. Now it was going to do the same to her.

Late in the night, but before dawn began to touch the sky, he walked to his sister’s grave.

Sinjin flicked up the collar of his greatcoat and stalked through the cemetery, toward the massive crypt that held his sister’s coffin. He carried a bouquet of roses.

He had lost all his family except Emma when he had been nine years of age. The dragon slayers had found him, had taken him in and raised him. With his father dead, he had become the Duke of Greystone. But the only title that had mattered to him had been that of dragon slayer. Wreaking vengeance on dragons had helped him survive the pain of losing his parents, his younger brother, and his other two sisters.

Emma had never been able to heal. She’d always been lost in a sort of make-believe world. She had believed she had fairies for friends, and she would not even speak to anyone but him.

Emma had been made into a vampire by the dragon slayers, just as he had been. When she was as old as he was, when he had been turned, he had insisted she be given immortal life.

All members of the dragon slayers clan were given immortality. Their souls were taken and their bodies were made stronger by the transformation. As vampires, they were almost invincible. Emma should have lived for eternity. But Emma had fallen in love with a forbidden man—a dragon. She had run away with him. Other dragon slayers had hunted the man down and destroyed him. After she had lost her husband, Emma had gone mad. She had destroyed herself. She had walked out into the sunlight, had screamed with agony as the light burned her to ashes and dust.

With her death, he had lost everyone in his family—except Emma had a child. And when she had killed herself, she had left her son alone, without parents.

Sinjin pulled open the door to the crypt, ducked his head, and stepped into the dark. It was pitch dark, but as a vampire, he could see easily. Emma’s cool marble sarcophagus stood in the middle. Her likeness was carved into the top. On it, with her marble eyes closed and her sculpted hands resting on her chest, he could imagine she was still alive and she looked this way, as though she was merely sleeping. But all that was inside the coffin was a small pile of dust.

His heart cold, he laid the roses on top of the marble hands. “I know James is safe, Emma,” he said aloud, into the quiet of the tomb. “I will have him home soon. I promise.”

And he would. James was the only family he had left.

He had to ensure he acquired Lady Lucy Drake’s trust. After that, he could question her, and try to find clues to where James was being held by her family. If he could coax her to trust him, he would be able to slowly break through the defenses she carried as a shape-shifter and see into her thoughts.

But before dawn, he would try one more time with her brother, Jack.

One of his servants had brought him word this evening: they had discovered where her damned brother was hiding.

Maybe the Earl of Wrenshire would be more forthcoming with his information when he found out what his sister was willing to do to save him.

Her trunk was packed. Lucy swiftly tied her bonnet ribbons beneath her chin, her gloves tucked beneath her arm.

She was ready to go—to run for the carriage before she lost her nerve—when the front door opened, the scent of smoke whirled in, and one of her investigators bowed, gave her a crooked smile, and said softly, “I have findings to report, my lady.”

She led him into the study, which would have been her brother’s room if Jack had not disappeared, and sat at the desk. Arching her brow, she waited for her investigator to begin. He doffed his beaver hat and gave her another grin, looking relaxed and devilish. A former Bow Street Runner, Mr. Armstrong did not look like the sort of man who respected the law, but he reputedly took cases without payment or hope of reward when he felt justice should be served.

He had agreed to find her missing brother and accept his payment later. Lucy suspected it was because the handsome, dark-haired man admired Helena.

“I believe I’ve traced the last movements the earl made before he disappeared, my lady.” Armstrong drew a notebook from a deep pocket and flicked the pages with his black-gloved hands. “At eight of the night, the earl left his club and proceeded to—” He stopped abruptly, then ran his fingers around his collar. “Beg your pardon, my lady, but the rest might not be suitable for a lady’s ears.”

Lucy sighed. “You cannot shock me, Mr. Armstrong. I assume it was either a seedy gaming establishment or a brothel.”

“Indeed it was a combination of both, my lady. At midnight, he took his leave and visited several gaming halls.”

She arched a brow. “Several? Could he not lose enough money at one?”

She didn’t expect an answer but to her surprise he gave her one. “It appears he was not engaged in deep play but in the pursuit of a duke,” he said.

“A duke? And this was on the night he disappeared?” Normally her brother stayed out all night, but returned in mid-morning, where he would collapse in a drunken stupor on his bed. But on that particular day, he had not appeared. He had gone out the night before and he had not come back. “Which duke?” Though, really, what other duke would it be?

“The Duke of Greystone,” Armstrong confirmed. “They encountered each other in a tavern near the London Docks. According to several witnesses, they left together.”

“They did?” And the wretched duke had said nothing about it. Did he know what had happened to Jack?

“I take it, my lady, you wish to know what they spoke about? They were overheard.”

“Yes, of course I do!”

“They spoke of the duke’s nephew. The duke accused the earl’s father of kidnapping his young nephew.”