My heart skipped. “Me!”
“Mr. Hilliard had told me that the woman who found my solicitor worked at The Magpie, but I didn’t realize she was someone I knew. Though until you appeared at my table that day, I’d only known you by ...” He trailed off, and I saw the muscles of his jaw tighten.
“By what, sir?” I asked, both curious and uneasy.
“By your smell.”
I stared at him, truly horrified. My gaze dropped to my dress, and I tried to remember the last time I’d properly cleaned it. But then I remembered the frankincense. “You mean my blood.”
“Not precisely. I can smell things most people cannot. I’ve known you for some time not by your name, but by the way you smell to me as you pass near my home. Part of that is indeed the maddening, warm, copper-and-salt smell of your blood. But the rest is ... honey and almonds, like meadowsweet blossoms. I recognized it the moment I walked into the tearoom, and when you came out with my tea, I was flooded with it. I nearly choked on it.”
My tongue had stuck to the roof of my mouth. Finally, I managed, “Not anunpleasantsmell.” Even then it was not lost on me that he’d made it clear how badly he thirsted for my blood, and I was somehow more worried that something about me might have disgusted him.
His brows lifted. “No, Miss Penrose.”
My ears throbbed with the heavy thumping of my heart. My feelings were in such a jumble I could hardly sort them, like after a cat’s been in the yarn basket. Some of what I felt was fear, but there was also the strange new excitement—part wonder, part anticipation. Which didn’t seem the right kind of feeling to be having.
So I thought about Mr. Roscoe, and I reminded myself of what Mr. Tregarrick was.
Straightening in the chair, I said, “Who was it that you ‘possibly’ killed, Mr. Tregarrick?”
His lips pursed and his gaze lowered. I noticed his eyelashes were thick, and darker than his hair and brows.
“I believe I mentioned that our earliest days as vampires are the most dangerous,” he said. “My father knew this, and when I came of age, I was confined in the chapel, and my thirst was managed in ways that risked no one’s life.”
His eyes came to my face, and I merely nodded, afraid if I interrupted him he might not go on.
“My memories of that time are fevered and fragmented. I couldn’t even say for sure which are true recollections and which are memories of dreams. In my memory, I hunted. I let the bloodlust take me. The thrill of it was terrifying.”
My breathing shallowed and my heart raced as I waited for more. But his attention seemed to have drifted inward. A tremor in my voice, I replied, “But you said you were confined to the chapel. Theymusthave been dreams.”
“I’m inclined to agree, but there is uncertainty on one point in particular.” The blue-black of his eyes deepened even as the whites brightened. I held my breath. “For a decade of my life, my father paid a woman to teach me violin. I grew attached to her, I suppose because I never had a mother or sister. But she was also very beautiful, and when I was older, I fancied myself in love with her.”
Warmth flooded my belly even as dread gnawed my heart.
“From the time of my change,” he continued, “I never saw her again. When the feverish state finally left me, I asked my father about her, and he said that he’d released her from our employment for her own safety. But one of the dreams I had during that time—one I still have to this day—is a dream of ...”
He turned his face from me to the fireplace. I remembered the smashed fiddle I’d seen upstairs.
Steadying my hands against my lap, I said, “You think you may have killed her.”
His eyes closed, and his throat worked as he swallowed. “The dream feelsveryreal.”
His story had indeed given me the shock I’d hoped for. A shock strong enough that itshouldhave jerked me out of my chair and sent me back home where I belonged.
“Even if ...” I took a deep breath. “Even if it is as you fear, if all you’ve told me is true, you’re not the same man now that you would have been back then. One who could be overtaken by such a savage urge.”
His brow furrowed as he frowned. “I’ve never truly been tested since then. I’ve never been willing to take the risk.”
“Until two days ago on the heath, when you were overtaken by a very different kind of urge.”
He blinked. “Yes.”
I couldn’t hate him. I could barelyfearhim. Monster though he might be, he was also a man. One who had saved my life. One who had told me his dangerous secrets. And in this moment he seemed a softer, kinder man than my own brother.
But I wasn’t likely to see him again, and I still wished to offer him what small help I could for what he’d done for me.Even if he laughs at me.
“What are you thinking about, Miss Penrose?” asked the vampire, his hand going to the back of the chair in front of him. For a moment I thought he might sit, but he didn’t.
