“No one should ever see this much of you,” he said absently. “No one but me.” His fingers, whiter even than her own magnolia skin, brushed a dark bruise on her ribs. “How much are you hurting?”
“I’m pretty stiff and sore,” she admitted. “I guess my muscles were all tensed up, and then, when I got knocked around...”
He touched her side gently, his hand very close to her breast. “Will you be able to dance tonight? We need to call Sylvia and cancel if you will not be able. She can get Thompson and Julie to do it.”
He was still hard, ready for her. She was having a difficult time remembering her sore muscles.
“I don’t know,” she said, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt.
“Turn over,” he said, and she obediently rotated. “How’s your back?”
She moved her shoulders experimentally. “Feels okay,” she said. His fingers traced her spine, and she gasped. His hand rubbed her hip.
“Don’t think I got bruised there,” she said, smiling into the pillow.
“What about here?” His hand traveled.
“There, either.”
“Here?”
“Oh, no! Definitely not there!”
He entered her from behind, holding himself up so his weight wouldn’t press on her tender ribs. “There?” he asked, the mischief in his voice making something in her heart go all soft and mushy.
“You’d better...massage...that,” she said, ending on a gasp.
“Like this?”
“Oh, yes.”
After they’d basked in the afterglow for a happy thirty minutes, Rue said, “I hate to bring this up, but I’m hungry.”
Sean, stung by his own negligence, leaped from the bed in one graceful movement. Before Rue knew what was happening, he’d lifted her from the bed, ensconced her in a chair, and clean sheets were on the bed and the old ones stuffed in a hamper. He’d started the shower for her and asked her what kind of food she liked to eat. “Whatever’s in the neighborhood,” she said. “That’s what I love about the city. There’s always food in walking distance.”
“When you come out of the shower, I’ll be back with food for you,” he promised.
“You haven’t bought food in years, have you?” she said, and the fact of his age struck her in a way it hadn’t before.
He shook his head.
“Will it bother you?”
“You need it, I’ll provide it,” he said.
She stared at him, her lips pressed together thoughtfully. He didn’t say this like a wimp who was desperate for a woman. He didn’t say it like a control freak who wanted to dole out the very air his sweetheart breathed. And he didn’t say it like an aristocrat who was used to having others do his bidding.
“Okay, then,” she said slowly, still thinking him over. “I’ll just shower.”
The heat of the water and the minutes of privacy were wonderful. She hadn’t been around people on a one-on-one basis so much for some time, and to be precipitated into such an intimate relationship was quite a shock. An enjoyable one, but still a shock.
Having clean hair and a clean body did wonders for her spirits, and in the light of Sean’s determination to provide for her, she found a pair of his jeans she could wriggle into. She rolled up the cuffs and found a faded pumpkin-colored T-shirt to wear. It was pretty obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra, but she didn’t know where her bra was. Rue had a terrible conviction that it was still in the studio, which would be a dead giveaway to the other dancers. She left the bedroom and went out into the living room/kitchen/office to wait for Sean. It was small and neat, too, and had a couple of narrow windows through which she could see people’s feet go by. For the first time, she realized Sean had a basement apartment.
Shortly after, he came in with two bags full of food. “How much of this can you eat?” he asked. “I find I have forgotten.” He’d gotten Chinese, which she loved, and he’d bought enough for four. Luckily, there were forks and napkins in the bags, too, since Sean didn’t have such things.
“Sean,” she said, because she enjoyed saying his name. “Sit down while I eat, please, and tell me about your life.” She knew how his face looked when he came, but she didn’t know anything about his childhood. In her mind, this was way off balance.
“While I was in Pineville,” he said, “I looked in the windows of your parents’ home. I was curious, that’s all. In the living room, your father was staring into a huge glass case that takes up a whole wall.”
“All my stuff,” she said softly.
“The crowns, the trophies, the ribbons.”
“Oh, my gosh, they still have all that out? That’s just...sad. Did he have a drink in his hand?”
Sean nodded.
“Why did you tell me this when I asked to know more about you?”
“You’re American royalty,” he said, supplying the link.
She laughed out loud, but not as if he were really amusing.
“You are,” he said steadily. “And I know you’ve heard Sylvia say I was an aristocrat. Well, that’s her joke. My origins are far more humble.”
“I noticed you could make a bed like a whiz,” she said.
“I can do anything in the way of taking care of a human being,” he said. He looked calm, but she could tell he wasn’t—something about the way his hands were positioned on the edge of the table. “I was a valet for most of my human life.”
Chapter 9
“You were a gentleman’s gentleman?” Her face lit up with interest.
He seemed taken aback by her reaction. “Yes, my family was poor. My father died when I was eleven, so I couldn’t take over his smithy. My mother was at her wits’ end. There were five of us, and she had to sell the business, move to a smaller cottage, and my oldest sister—she was fifteen—had to marry. I had to find work.”
“You poor thing,” she said. “To have to leave school so early.”
He smiled briefly. “There wasn’t a school for the likes of us,” he said. “I could read and write, because our priest taught me. My sisters couldn’t, because no one imagined they’d need to.” He frowned at her. “You should be eating now. I didn’t get you food so you could let it grow cold.”
She turned her face down to hide her smile and picked up her fork.
“I got a job with a gentleman who was passing through our village. His boy died of a fever while he was staying at the inn, and he hired me right away. I helped out his valet, Strothers. I went with them when they returned to England. The man’s name was Sir Tobias Lovell, and he was a strange gentleman. Very strange, I thought.”
“He turned out to be a vampire, I guess.”
“Yes. Yes, he was. His habits seemed very peculiar, but then, you didn’t question people above you in social station, especially since anyone could see he was a generous man who treated people well. He traveled a great deal, too, so no one could wonder about him for too long. Every now and then, he’d go to his country house for a while. That was wonderful, because travel was so difficult then, so uncomfortable.”
“But how did you come to be his valet? What happened to Strothers?”
“Strothers had already grown old in his service, and by the time I was eighteen, Strothers had arthritis so badly that walking was painful. Out of mercy, Sir Tobias gave him a cottage to live in, and a pension. He promoted me. I took care of his clothes, his wigs, his wants and needs. I shaved him. I changed his linen, ordered his bath when he wanted, cleaned his shoes. That’s why I know how to take care of you.” He reached over the table to stroke her hair. “Once I was in closer contact with Sir Tobias, it became obvious to me there was something more than eccentricity about the man. But I loved him for his goodness, and I knew I must keep his secrets, as much for my own sake as for his. We went on, master and man, for many years...maybe twelve or fifteen. I lost track, you see, of how old I was.”
That seemed the saddest thing she’d ever heard. Rue lowered her gaze to hide her tears.
“I realized later that he’d take a little from the women he bedded,” Sean said. “He pleased them very much, but most of them were weak the day after. In our small country neighborhood, he had the name of being a great womanizer. He had to go from one to another, of course, so no one woman would bear the brunt of his need. He seemed much healthier when we went to the cities, where he could visit houses of ill repute as much as he liked, or he could hunt in the alleys.”
“What happened?”
“The village people grew more and more suspicious. He didn’t age at all, you see, and people grew old very quickly then. But he lost money and couldn’t afford to travel all the time, so he had to stay at the manor more often. He never went to Sunday church. He couldn’t be up in the daytime, of course. And he didn’t wear a cross. The priest began to be leery of him, though he donated heavily to the church.
“People began to avoid me, too, because I was Sir Tobias’s man. It was a dark time.” Sean sighed. “Then they came one night to get him, a few of the local gentry and the priest. I told him who was at the door, and he said, ‘Sean, I’m sorry, I must eat before I run.’ And then he was on me.”
Rue had lost the taste for her food. She wiped her mouth and laid her hand over Sean’s.
“He gave me a few swallows of his blood after he’d drained me,” Sean said quietly. “He said, ‘Live, if you have the guts for it, boy,’ and then he was gone. The people at the front door broke in to begin searching the house for him, and they found me. They were sure I was dead. I was white; I’d been bitten, and they couldn’t hear my heart. I couldn’t speak, of course. So they buried me.”
“Oh, Sean,” she said, horror and pity in her voice.
“Lucky for me, they buried me right away,” he said briskly. “In a rotten coffin, at that. Kept me out of the sunlight, and the lid was easy to break through when I woke.” He shrugged. “They wanted to be through with the job, so they hadn’t put me in too deep. And they didn’t keep watch at the churchyard, to see if I’d rise. Another stroke of luck. People didn’t know as much about vampires then as they did a hundred years later.”
“What did you do after that?”
“I went to see my sweetheart, the girl I’d been seeing in the village. Daughter of the dry-goods dealer, she was.” He smiled slightly. “She was wearing black for me. I saw her when she came out to get a bucket of water. And I realized I’d ruin the rest of her life if I showed myself to her. The shock might kill her, and if it didn’t, I might. I was very hungry. Two or three days in the grave will do that. And I had no one to tell me what to do, how to do what I knew I must. Sir Tobias was long gone.”
“How did you manage?”
“I tried to hold out too long the first time,” he said. “The first man I took didn’t survive. Nor did the second, or the third, or the fourth. It took me time to learn how much I could take, how long I could hold off the hunger before it would make me do something I’d regret.”
Rue pushed her food away.
“Did you ever see him again?” she asked, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Yes, I saw him in Paris ten years later.”
“What was that like?”
“He was in a tavern, once again the best-dressed man in the place, the lord of all he saw,” Sean said, his voice quite expressionless. “He always did enjoy that.”
“Did you speak?”
“I sat down opposite him and looked him in the eye.”
“What did he say?”
“Not a word. We looked at each other for a couple of minutes. There was really nothing to say, in the end. I got up and left. That night, I decided I would learn to dance. I’d done village dances as a boy, of course. I enjoyed it more than anything, and since I had centuries to fill and no pride to be challenged, I decided to learn all about dancing. Men danced then, almost all men. It was a necessary social grace if you were at all upper-class, and I could go from one group to another, acting like Sir Tobias when I wanted to learn the ballroom dances of the wealthy, and like my own class when I wanted to pick up some folk steps.”
They both unwound as Sean talked about dancing. Rue even picked up her fork again and ate a few more bites. Gradually Sean relaxed in his chair and became silent. When she was sure he’d recovered from his story, she said, “I have to feed the cat. I need to go to my apartment.”
“But you can’t stay there,” Sean said stiffly.
“Then where?”
“Here, of course. With me.”
She did her best not to glance around the tiny apartment. She could probably fit her books and clothes in somewhere, but she would have to discard everything else she’d acquired with so much effort. How could they coordinate their very different lives? How much of his feeling for her was pity?
He could read her mood accurately. “Come on, let’s get your things. If I’m right, you’ve missed one day of classes. You’ll need to go tomorrow if you’re able. How is walking?”
She was moving slowly and stiffly. Sean put socks on her feet and laced her boots in a matter-of-fact way. There was something so practical and yet so careful about the way he did such a lowly task that she felt moved in an unexpected way.
“At least I don’t have a wig you have to powder,” she said, and smiled.
“That was a great improvement of the twentieth century over the eighteenth,” he said. “Hair care and shoes—they’re much better now.”
“Hair and shoes,” she said, amusement in her voice. She thought that over while Sean got ready to go, and by the time they were outside in the night, she felt quite cheerful. She looked forward to lots of conversations with Sean, when he would tell her about clothes and speech patterns and social mores of the decades he’d lived through. She could write some interesting term papers, for sure.