James's sisters had been persistent about seeing the lady that captured his attention and with persuasion directed towards the Captain and their father it was soon decided that they would invite Izabella Brighton to dinner on a summer evening. Where stories could be shared and life could be celebrated, James always spoke highly of the woman and in digression from his sisters he had even spoken to his father about marriage. The thought of marriage had rarely crossed his mind since the school days where many men would sport a woman for nothing more than a trophy of class and wealth but the longing was there. To settle down as his mother and father had done, to have that relationship and the love that never died. One day as Jamie came to ride with the Captain he had even made mention about looking at rings. To which the Major laughed, all in good nature, of course.
"What did I tell you Jim? From that day we all had tea together, hook, line, and sinker." James rolled his eyes and urged Bill into a gallop, Topthorn never straying too far behind. I love her, his heart was very adamant about reminding him of that fact, every time the two were together, whether it be a day's outing or the few nights he had stayed with her. Questions ran rapid through his head. How do I tell her? Is this too soon? When should I tell her? Will she return my affections? But there was that nagging voice in the back of his head, that voice that told him that becoming involved with her was dangerous, not just because of his profession and that the threat of war could arise, but because of the strange things that he had seen of the course of their months together.
Her disappearances on the nights he stayed, though brief did not sit right with him. The glass he had seen on her bedside table stained a dull red as if it had once held blood. The avid avoidance of attending church and while many homes still had small crucifixes to show devotion to the religion there was nothing holy on the Brighton Estate. Often she had mentioned and spoke of events that had long been in the past as if she were there and experienced them first hand but he had always excused it because of her education and collection of historical books.
The meticulous way she never wore silver, not a necklace nor a hair comb, not even accents on her gowns when silver would have been the more appropriate match to some ensembles. And when he was attacked by the wolf, he could see the cringe she gave at the sight of blood, and the way her pupils dilated with bloodlust. On some nights and occasions she seemed to forget the elongated canines and smiled and while it was breathtakingly beautiful it also reeked of danger. All the pieces clicked, all the clues were there but the only thing that kept him from labeling her as such a creature was that she could walk in the sun, but despite that his brain told him that she was one, even though he could not bring himself to use the word, and yet his heart still held nothing but love for the woman.
The Brighton Estate, London; June 29, 1913.
Her outings with James had grown more frequent as for a long while he had no duties to attend to, they rode often and visited the shops of London on more than one occasion, pointing out ridiculous items and those that they felt would be suiting for one another. Hand in hand they would walk down the streets though her heart stalled when he slowed down at the shop front of a jeweler's store, elegant diamond rings sitting in the windows display. They had even passed an art supply store that had been hidden away in one of the alleys, the pastels and paints were all aligned by color, pencils and pieces of charcoal had been sharpened and were ready to be purchased and used but what had caught Belle's attention were the sketchbooks. Some were large, obviously for landscapes and perhaps planning as well, the size range was impressive but it was a leather bound book that held her focus. It resembled James's, the make and style, though it was a tad bit larger and the leather had been stained to appear the color of cognac. She knew that she would return before his birthday to purchase the book and fresh tools, a smile grew on her lips at the thought.
Adam had been at her house after she arrived from the outing with the Captain, he saw her smile as they walked through the front door, the way she looked alive, and the fact that she was in love. He decidedly vanished to find Eve and speak of his revelation that if James agreed to being turned he would aid Belle in the process. It was a week later from the day of window shopping that he was returning back to his own home after a day of riding and lounging in her garden that the words almost slipped from her lips. I love you, James. Questions ran rapid through her head. How do I tell him? Is this too soon? When should I tell him? Will he return my affections? The voices of doubt were there in her head, lurking about, but she would not let those thoughts and voices win, she rarely even heard them even when they were screaming at her.
Izabella sat at her vanity looking back at the reflection, she missed her blue eyes, but she had James's and they held an entire sea in each iris. Her hair had been curled and coiffed with the assistance of Adam, she was shocked that he remembered anything about such things as his and Eve's hair was dry and frayed, not that it made her adore them any less it was merely surprising when he offered to aid her. The lady of the house stood in front of her mirror, her reflection looking back at her, as the vampire behind her pulled at the laces of the bodice of the corseted gown. His nimble fingers elegantly tied the off the strings and tucked them away from sight.
"Thank you, Adam." He contemplated kissing her lips as he had done so often in the past, but this time he stopped himself and instead kissed her forehead. Izabella was thankful for the restraint but quickly she threw her arms around him, kissing the corner of his thin lips. The grandfather clock echoed through the house and told her that is was four o'clock, James would be arriving any minute. Pulling a flask from his trouser pocket Adam passed it to Belle, curling her fingers around the rusting container that was filled with the only thing that could prevent her from losing herself around the Captain. She drank, greedily, as she hoped that she would not be back at her own estate till morning. When Tutti announced that her courter was now in the foyer she turned the flask up, downing the rest of the contents before smiling at Adam and throwing the metal flagon back to him as he turned to curl up in her bed until night was upon them again.
Had she looked at her reflection afterwards she would have noticed the blood smeared on her bottom lip but the excitement overtook her and it left no time for once overs. Her smile was wide and welcoming if not a bit frightening as she descended the stairs, a pale hand gliding over the smooth varnished banister. She stood in front of the Captain and quickly they both brought each other into their arms, though when James stepped back he tipped her chin up, his thumb resting below a small droplet of what appeared to be blood. "Is that blood?"
If she could have kicked herself for the sheer stupidity and recklessness of the moment she would have, but the lady was quick at conjuring a falsehood to cover her identity. "Oh my! I stubbed my toe on the way down and bit my lip. Seems I may have bit it harder than I thought." They both shared a light chuckle but tentatively she swiped her tongue over her lower lip, though the small burst of ecstasy that flooded through her veins was hard to suppress she managed.
"Shall we?" James extended his arm for her to take as they walked back to his awaiting car, the engine rattled the same way it always did. The bumps down the dirt dry were ever present and on the old road hole were filled in with water from summer storms, sloshing about as the wheels drove through. He looked over as the gentle breeze caught her hair and lifted it away from an angelic face. "I hope you will not have any objections to Jamie dining with us this evening, it seems my dear little sister has caught his eye." She almost laughed at the thought of Jamie, the stoic and strictly business man that he was ever fancying a woman, let alone James's younger sister but she knew he was respectable man and it was a smart match.
Olivia rushed to greet Belle and James as they entered the house, her arms opened wide to bring the vampiress into a warm hug. "I was worried that Jim would never bring you around again." She chuckled and the two followed the lively young woman into the sitting room where Jamie and James's father were deep in conversation, by the brief glimpse she heard it had something to do with military strategy. With a questioning look James seemed to ask if she would be all right with his sister while he joined the other men in their discussion, of course she could handle his sister.
"You and Major Stewart, eh?" A vibrant shade of red rushed to Olivia's cheeks and she nodded, but not without hesitance. "He is an honorable man, though from the few times I've been graced with his company it seems as if he is all business and no play. I can't say I've ever seen the man smile." Olivia chuckled as the two woman made their way to a separate room while final touches to the night's meal were being made.
"Ahh, yes. Jamie is a very serious man but underneath that exterior is a very loving man. We've known each other for years. Our families have been friends for generations according to my father." Izabella had heard of the Stewart and Nicholls families though she never went out of the way to meet them in her long life but now she was glad for there was no one that could create suspicion towards her. "So how are you and James?"
The fiery haired woman smiled, her hand folded on her lap. "We are well. I feel like I'm living in a fairy tale and he's Prince Charming. Your brother is wonderful, I care for him, dearly." Talk of the latest trends in fashion, music, and art had been discussed between the two woman before both James and Jamie came along to retrieve them for the meal, each with gentle look in their eyes accompanied by a very small smile.
Dinner went by quickly as the meal was plated up, bottles of wine were opened and glasses had been filled and refilled. For the first time she saw the Major crack a genuine smile and laugh, though the way he looked at Olivia was nothing short of sincerity and caring. Before long the conversation had dulled and James's sister sat at the piano, cracking her knuckles before she began to play, Jamie sitting at her side on the bench. James smiled and extended his hand for her to take. "Dance with me?" His voice was honey and impossible to resist, even though the clock had struck ten.
As the music started, the feel of his hand at her waist, the other holding her own hand tightly but not painfully, Izabella felt faint for the first time in her life, it was absolutely absurd considering that they had danced before. But as they swept into the first turn, she felt all resistance fall away, any thought of speaking of his skill was chased away by the piercing, burning eyes that found and held hers. Her breath strangled in her throat as they revolved, her skirts brushing his breeches, the reality of his hard body impinging on her senses. And oh how she could smell the sweet scent of his blood, it could drive her mad and suddenly she realized how Adam had felt the day they had met.
James felt like he was in an odd mix of heaven and hell. Holding Izabella in his arms felt so right, so natural that he never wanted to let go, yet he knew her to be something dark, dangerous, and ancient. But the way her body sank against his, pulling scandalously close during the turns as he negotiated the empty floor, her golden eyes gleaming, her lips parted and redder from the exertion of the dance. He was glad their waltz was silent; he wasn't sure he could have managed conversation, or coherent conversation at least. He saw the same sensual awareness and shuddered as need lanced through him, painful and hot.
Heated awareness faded as Izabella stepped back. James's arms fell reluctantly but he extended his arm and with heavy breathing she accepted, allowing him to take her into the night air, under the trees and the full moon. He led her to the stone bench where he had first asked her permission to courtship and now they sat once more. Belle placed her hand atop her diaphragm as if to regulate her breathing, but it was all becoming too much, the scent of him, the tightness of the corset. She gripped his hand and squeezed to the near point of pain for standing in hopes to alleviate the feeling. "I can't breathe...too tight. Breathe."
Without stopping to think, he reached for her lacings, batting away her hands and undoing the knots, being too far up her back for herself to reach. As soon as he loosened it, the back gaped and she exhaled with a gasp, leaning against him as she forced air back into her lungs. Lust rushed through him, at the sight of her gently sloping shoulders, exposed by her loosened gown, pearly skin gleaming in the moonlight, red hair darkened to deepest scarlet. He was almost afraid of the heady rush of lust, at the feel of her soft weight in his arms, her silken hair against his cheek.
Izabella gasped when she felt his mouth on her neck, against the soft curve where her pulse still beat erratically, as her head cleared and the dizziness faded only to be replaced with desire. His lips were cool, his touch set her alight, wiping her mind clean of everything except for him. "James!" The laugh he gave was breathy and warm as it fanned out against her neck. Keeping her modesty in mind he retied the strings, loser this time as to prevent what had happened moments prior. She sighed contentedly, Adam had shown her love once more, but James, James had already gone above and showed her how it felt to be cherished.
"Come now, I think I may have to get another piece of cake." He smiled at her in the pale moonlight, she laughed as he had already eaten two pieces and his sweet tooth was very prominent. They ventured back into the house, the music from the piano had stopped and the room was vacant though in the dining room Jamie sat at the table with a napkin wrapped around his hand, blood beginning to seep through the white material. "What happened?"
"No worries Jim, my own blunder I'm afraid. The knife slipped while I was cutting a slice of cake for Olivia." The Major's response was unconcerned for the cut, Izabella closed her eyes, her grip on the Captain's hand tightening. His blood smelt different than James, but like his she could tell it was uncontaminated, and the hunger resurfaced but rather than making a fool of herself she focused and urged herself to faint. James had just enough time to stop her from falling forward and quickly Olivia shooed them away so she could tend to the Major's hand.
"Belle?" She was in a bed that much she could easily tell, her head ached and at the pain she desperately wished that the man calling her name was Adam with a vial of blood but she knew better. It would be James. "Darling?" he dabbed a cool cloth over her forehead and her neck but she turned away from his touch, resisting what he was doing. She was tired, worn, and above all parched as the small amount of blood she consumed earlier in the evening had already left her system famished. Though when he offered a goblet of water to drink she did and for what seemed a small eternity he sat on the edge of the bed, his bed to be exact.
"James, I want to go home." Her voice was meek but the Captain only nodded and before she could protest he swept her into his arms, unknowingly exposing his neck and vein to a vampire. All she would need to do is wrap an arm around his neck for leverage and sink her fangs into the soft column of flesh. They passed Jamie and Olivia still chatting and with affirmation from both Izabella and James they knew that the lady would be just fine with some decent rest. Despite his gentle commands for her to lie in the backseat she insisted to sit in the front next to him, head resting on his shoulder whilst he drove. The gentle shaking of the car on the old dirt roads was somehow able to lull her to sleep, when they arrived at her home he took her into his arms once against with the utmost delicacy.
The maid opened the door and smiled, ushering the Captain inside before the storms could roll in for the night. From one of the rooms on the east wing Adam looked out of the door but never did make his presence known, frankly Izabella would probably have his head if she knew he had been continuing some of his own experiments within her home, but regardless he slipped back into the shadows recognizing that she was indeed safe with Captain Nicholls.
He laid her on her own bed and stripped away what clothing he could but instead of joining her as he would have done on any other night prior to his discovery, he sat on the edge, back turned from Izabella. James twiddled his thumbs and toyed with the buttons on his dress shirt as he tried to decide what to do. If she was indeed a vampire then she had lied to him, inadvertently by means of concealing the truth but a lie nonetheless. James being a military man and gentleman valued honesty, but he knew she had good reason behind her motives, or so he hoped.
Did he want to leave? Heavens no, he was already far too fond of the lady to do that, his heart would overrule his mind and he would not be strong enough to stay away. But was he unsettled? Most definitely. She was perilous, or so the folklores said her kind would be, but he had no reason to suspect that she was dangerous to him, or anyone else for that matter. She was loved and respected by the community, even the lesser royals knew of her. Izabella had a kind heart it easily could be seen by the care and devotion to her animals, there was also a passion burning within her for literature and art, not to mention the tedious work she had put into such a lavish garden.
He looked over his shoulder to see that she was still sleeping, though it appeared she had grown paler in the candlelight. God, I think I love you Izabella. The hand on his back startled him, but the light pressure and cool touch he felt seep through his shirt told him it was Belle, but still he did not turn to face her. "James?" Her voice was stronger but his name was spoken with such uncertainty that it made his heart ache. Rather than turning and taking her into his arms he looked straight ahead at the door and risked everything they had built over the past months with one statement that he hoped would not destroy them.
"Belle, I...I know what you are."