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“I need to find him, Horris. You must know where he is.”
“I’m afraid I do not. He does not write often these days; last I heard he was on a ship to America.”
Dammit. America. “When was this?”
“A few months ago. He was headed to Boston.” Horris answered. I shivered, we’d been so close yet again. How was it so? I stood, gathering my own umbrella from beside my chair and heading toward the door. Horris was behind me, gentlemanly as ever to open it for me.
“Where are you going?” he asked, keeping pace with me as I tromped down the wet sidewalk toward my hotel.
“I’m going to America.”
“Rosemary, that was ages ago. He’s been all over the place the last thirty years, his soul is restless. If you leave for America now you may miss him on his return to London.” Horris very gently took hold of my arm, barely tugging me to face him.
“What are you suggesting?” I asked, the rain pelleting the soft fabric of my parasol.
“I am suggesting that you wait; he always returns to London. Stay with me if you want, I’ll write to Filip and see if he knows anything.” A few cars chugged by on the street, sloshing the rain water in every direction. The Thames could be smelt from nearby, and thunder rolled far off. I worried my lip, fingers drumming on the handle of my umbrella. Could I wait? I had already wasted so much time.
“Alright, just until we hear from Filip.”
“You’ll stay with me?” he asked, his eyes lighting in excitement. I gave him a curt nod, and he rejoiced, his suit jacket darkening as it drenched with rain. “Wonderful, wonderful. Oh happy day, come, let us get your belongings and head to my flat. I think you’ll fancy it.”
We walked together down the South Bank in the rain, boats bottlenecked in the brown river. I’d miss the view of Parliament and Big Ben from the hotel, but alas if I could find William, perhaps we could stay there together. Horris helped me load all my belongings into a small suitcase and we continued walking once more in the rain to his flat.
Gratitude was not quite the word I felt for sharing space with him after so many years alone, it was bigger than that. Seeing a familiar face, someone I did not have to lie to, was deliverance. I allowed him to slide under my umbrella as we walked with arms interlaced.
Horris’s London apartment was ostentatious with a view overlooking Hyde Park. I hadn’t realized how much wealth could be amassed by many lifetimes in various lucrative businesses until I crossed the threshold into his dwelling.
The apartment was cozy in size, French country and gorgeous. The floors were oak, the walls papered in a bright floral design, large windows were shaded with gold curtains. The theme was high society and it screamed wealth at every corner.
A large, exquisite fireplace on the right side of the living area sat in front of an equally as sumptuous collection of seating. The seating was plush and golden accents adorned every possible surface.
“Horris!” I exclaimed, coming to the large windows, glancing down into the beauty of autumn in Hyde Park. The trees were bathed in red and yellow, the sunset only exacerbating it all as the rain and clouds cleared.
“It is not much, I know,” he said, standing beside me, hands in his pockets.
“Not much? Don’t be absurd, I feel as though I am not near wealthy enough to share the same space! Look at your view!” I motioned down to the park. “Look at it all!” I spun, eyes tracking the space.
He laughed loudly, freely, “Miles better than Charleston, is it?”
“How can they compare?”
“Come, let me show you to your room.” He guided me to one of the four doors off of a narrow hallway. “You can stay as long as you’d like, make yourself at home. I’ll leave you to settle and send word to Filip. Then, should you feel so inclined, we can discuss your change of heart.”
“Thank you, Horris,” I squeezed his arm. For the first time in many years hope bloomed in my heart. “Thank you for so much more than you could possibly know.” He took leave and I allowed myself the reprieve of a bath.
When I emerged with a dressing gown tied tightly around my waist, Horris sat on his camelback settee, a glass of wine in his hand. The windows outside were black with night, lighting low and warm in the room, however, from the sconces in the living area. A wine glass sat on the table in the center of the room, shimmering in the orange light.
I joined Horris, letting the muscles of my body relax against the velvet cushions; I knew there was no need to fear with him near. He handed me the glass from the table with a smile on his full lips.
“May I enquire after Clementine in this setting?” I asked teasingly. Horris chuckled, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and over his heavily scarred forearms.
“Yes, I suppose so.” He cleared his throat, “You see, I have always had an affinity for human women; back when Will met me even. When he Changed me–lord, 200 years ago now–that did not falter a bit. I had been with quite a few mortal women, and for much of their lives, a painful process really, but the heart wants what it wants.” Horris swirled his wine, stretching his long legs across the table. I nursed my own glass, attempting to be composed and not probe for more. I was curious, I needed to know but my heart quivered in response to the memories, memories of what Noel had said about human women, ofmytime as a human woman with William.
“Clementine was one of the only human women I ever told about my being a vampyre. She was also the only one I ever gave the choice, should she want to be Changed or not.”
“She said no?” I asked, taking another swig of the wine. It wafted berries and pomegranate, rich and smooth.
“Hell, Rosemary, I told her fairly soon after we started our relationship. She was shocked, of course. I don’t think she spoke to me for damn near a month before she came back and told me she didn’t care, but she did not want to be what we are.” He threw an arm over the back of the settee.
