Winterly (Dark Creatures Book 1), стр. 84
Milli dropped her eyes and watched from beneath her lashes as he left the room with a curt promise of returning with medicaments and a bandage.
She threw herself back against the chair, dejected. Now Nicholas was wroth with her for being recalcitrant and would doubtless take to treating her like a child instead of the grown woman she was. “They all think I’m a silly child.” More tears spilled over her cheeks, but she was not left long to wallow in dolor.
Nicholas soon returned with a glass of sherry and strips of clean linen. He wore that grim look again.
“I truly am sorry to have caused you such trouble, Mr. Valko.”
He handed her the sherry, his gaze unreadable.
Milli took the glass from him. “And I hope you do not esteem it so great a trouble as warrants my sister being told. In fact, I do not see that anyone outside this room should know of my…”
“Indiscretion?”
She set her teeth. “My injury.”
Nicholas knelt down beside her and availed himself of her injured arm. “I shan’t tell your sister.” He seemed to want to say more. Instead, he removed a vial of some clear liquid, poured it over a scrap of linen, and thereupon began cleaning and mending the wound.
It stung like the devil and it was all Milli could do to keep still and silent as her would-be physician exacted his ministrations with lamentable rigor.
At last, he ceased his torture and concluded the surgery by wrapping her wrist with the last of the clean linen. He fastened the loose end by tucking it in on itself. Then he stood to his full height, his palm settling warmly beneath hers. “I too am truly sorry.”
“Why should you be sorry? You did nothing wrong.”
“No,” he agreed, “but I am sorry all the same.” He had about him an unspoken look of grave regret that raised the hairs on Milli’s nape. And then he did something altogether unexpected and leaned in to press his lips to her cheek. “Sleep tight, Miss Rose.”
She released the breath she’d been holding in. “I…I rather doubt I shall sleep at all.”
“If that sherry does its office even a little, you shall sleep like the dead.” The smile did not quite reach his eyes, but Milli was far too thrilled to let morbid words and thoughts taint what was to her the very sweetest moment of her life. That goodnight kiss served to banish the ache beneath her bandage. And if this was to be the first of many that might ultimately culminate in matrimony…well, then her blood had not been spilled for nothing.
Chapter Forty
A Madness Of Truth
Dearest Emma,—Have faith and courage. The right words will come in time. When you are ready to unburden your heart, I shall be disposed to listen and believe the words you speak. With love always,
Mary.
“Yes?” Markus stilled. “You mean it?”
“Yes,” Emma replied shyly. “My room…tonight.”
There was a sudden, quiet knock at the library door. Even Winterly appeared to have been caught off guard by it. She tore her eyes from the obliterating black gaze wherein she had nearly drowned and watched as the door latch turned to no avail. Markus had locked the door.
Emma knew she ought to feel the crimson blast of shame upon her cheeks, but no guilt was forthcoming. Neither the thrilling weight of the hand still splayed over her naked thigh nor Milli’s hesitant call from without could summon any shame. But though Emma might not scruple to renounce her virtue, it did not follow that her impressionable sister should bear witness to her fall.
It was late in the afternoon, nearly the dinner hour. Milli had evidently slept the better part of the day away and was likely wondering at Emma’s whereabouts.
Emma tried to sit up, but the vampyre proved himself perversely incommodious. “Are you going to let me up?”
“I had not intended to.” His mouth curled into a devious smile before he moved to stand and plucked her up from the floor. When she was on her feet, her skirts back in place around her ankles, he strode to the door.
The younger Miss Rose glided shyly past the master of Winterthurse, who now stood impenetrably grave. Her eyes darted askance between Emma and the stately man in whose company Emma had allowed herself to be secluded.
Perhaps the sight of her sister’s knowing looks might finally have elicited a blush from Emma, but, instead, her skin grew cold with dread. The flesh on the side of Milli’s throat was violently red as though some abuse had taken place there. Some excoriation or virulent sucking.
With a cry, Emma rushed forward. “Who has done this to you?”
“Done what?” Milli sidestepped her sister’s searching hands and sank onto the sofa. “Don’t fuss, I am only a little exhausted from the ball.”
“The devil you are!” Emma whirled on the silent vampyre who had not moved from the door. “Explain to me, sir,” said she with deadly calm, “how my sister came by that mark.”
“Mark?” Milli sat up, bemused.
Winterly said nothing at first, his face was like marble as he closed the door. “That savors of accusation, madam.”
Emma had to tilt her head back as he closed the distance between them. “Did you bite her?”
“Nobody’s been bitten, for goodness sake!” Milli’s voice, however, trembled with a lie.
“I am accountable to no one,” said Winterly, “least of all to you.”
Emma gasped, outraged. Without thinking better of it, she struck him hard across the jaw. Had he been of mortal flesh and bone, he might have given some indication that he’d felt the blow. As it was, he maintained his unnatural immutability.
“Emma!” Milli threw her hands up to her mouth, horrified. “No!”
Emma hardly noticed her sister’s shocked outcry, her fulmination was focused on another. In Winterly’s eyes there lurked an ominous glint that warned her not to strike him again. Disregarding the warning,