The next few days passed blissfully. Her illness did not return, namely because Melbourne remained at her side.

For his part, the Palace afforded not only the opportunity to spend almost every moment with her, but sanctuary also. Here, Byron could not find him.

Melbourne lay with her every night, and on the second he felt he could feed from her again. And so, after sinking his cock into her, he sank his teeth into her also and drank. Their mutual pleasure eclipsed all else.

He stopped feeding before it was too late, and she asked afterwards why he had. In truth, his moral compass was not entirely broken and the thought of draining the life from her was one he struggled with, despite the extraordinary pleasure and desire she wrought in him. He would not be able to resist much longer, but for now he would delay a while.

'I wish we didn't have this damnable ball tomorrow,' Victoria complained as they lay together that Thursday night.

'I quite agree, Ma'am.' He stroked a single finger along her arm. 'Well, you are the Queen – you could cancel it.'

She giggled and nestled into his chest.

'I cannot possibly do that! There have been so many arrangements … and people do seem to enjoy these things. I wouldn't mind if I could dance only with you.'

'You know that isn't possible. Even Peel enjoys the occasional waltz with you, I've noticed.'

'He is a better dancer than Leader of the Opposition!' She laughed again. 'Oh! I had almost forgotten. I have invited Lord Dorchester. Have you come across him?'

The stroking along her arm ceased. 'Dorchester? Who the devil is that?'

'Edward, Lord Dorchester. He wrote a charming letter telling me about a time we'd been out boating as children and I fell in and he rescued me.'

'I know of no Lord Dorchester.'

'He wrote from a house in Belgravia and his invitation was delivered there and accepted from there. He must be reputable to have such a fine address.'

'Must he?'

She looked up at him. 'Oh, don't be too distrustful. He sounds like a pleasant enough fellow. Anyway, he is coming tomorrow. We shall find out what he's like then.'

Melbourne sat up. 'Ma'am … I would urge you to reconsider this.'

'Why?'

'You know nothing of this man. To the best of my knowledge, there is no Lord Dorchester.'

'Well … you can't be expected to know everybody.'

'With all due respect, when it comes to Peers of the realm, Ma'am … I do.' He rose from the bed and paced around the room.

'Lord M! William? Whatever is the matter?'

Melbourne turned back to her, his hands on his hips, his anxiety clear. 'Did this man give any indication of how old he is?'

'He implied he is a few years older than me.'

'His address? I wish to see it. I will go there myself and seek him out.'

'Lord M! That would be most impertinent!' She got out of bed and rushed over to him. 'Oh, do stop this. What on earth are you so troubled about? Even if the man is an impostor, there will be plenty of people and guards about. There is nothing to fear.'

He stopped, breathing heavily, and looked down at her.

'He is back.'

She frowned in bewilderment. 'What? Who?'

'Byron.'

She sniffed out a laugh of disbelief. 'How do you know this?'

'I saw him. I spoke with him.'

'When?'

'At Smithfield the other day. He found me.'

His distress was suddenly all too understandable. She reached for his hand. 'Is this what was troubling you? Why did you not mention this before, my darling? I could have eased your worries.'

'I did not wish to trouble you.'

'But, what? You think this Lord Dorchester could be Byron? I have so many distant relatives who creep out of the woodwork; it is not unusual. I am sure your fears are simply heightened because of you seeing him.'

'Perhaps, but it is a coincidence, do you not think?'

She stepped up to him and curled her arms about him. 'What have you to fear from Byron? He has nothing compared to you.'

He met her eyes and said, 'That is exactly what I am afraid of.'

-xoOox-

Victoria tried her best to assuage Melbourne's concerns, and her body and blood and spirit eased him, perhaps too much, perhaps she convinced him and he became complacent. The next day he was busy with work. Many meetings took place at the Palace and he had no time to worry about the matter even if he had wanted to.

His constant proximity ensured that Victoria's illness did not return, and she was busy with preparations for the ball. It was not a major affair, but enough to keep the staff occupied and rushing about. By the time it started, she had almost forgotten the matter of Lord Dorchester.

She danced with Peel and complimented him on his ability, which seemed to please him greatly. The evening wore on. Melbourne hovered around the edge of the room but she could tell many people wished to speak to him and she kept losing sight of him. She realised at one point that she had completely forgotten to inquire whether Lord Dorchester had arrived or not.

She would soon have her answer.

Victoria took a breath between dances and managed some surreptitious sips from a glass of champagne. She took herself off to a quiet corner and for once managed to escape simpering looks and questing conversation. She would go and find Lord M and perhaps they could have a quiet few moments somewhere secret. She smiled softly to herself at the idea.

'Your Majesty … how wonderful to see you again after such a long time.'

She turned to the voice. A dark-haired man stood behind her. Late twenties perhaps, intensely handsome, with a penetrating gaze from which she could not escape.

'Thank you, …?'

'Lord Dorchester.'

'Oh! I see, yes! How very lovely to see you … again.'

'Indeed, Ma'am.' He took hold of her hand and raised it to his lips. 'And how very beautiful you have grown to be.' The compliment, however effusive, was not unappreciated.

The man smiled. He had dark red lips, she noticed, soft, but the way they curled up did not quite work somehow. Victoria drew her hand away, although not quite as hastily as she wished she had.

He continued. 'And I am also pleased to see you dry, Your Majesty.'

She laughed. 'Yes, of course … the pond.'

'You remember?'

She frowned, trying hard to do so. 'Well … I think so.'

He stepped in and his gaze did not leave hers. 'It was traumatic for you. Perhaps your memory protects you from it.'

'That is most likely it.'

The man motioned towards the dance floor. 'You must give me the honour of a dance.'

'Oh, I'm afraid my card is full.' She felt she should be grateful that it was, yet at the same time a strange sense of disappointment tinged her.

'Surely not? Allow me to see.'

With no hesitation, he reached for the card around her wrist and lifted it so that she had no choice but to raise her arm to help him. He read her card quickly and tutted. 'Why, it is full. But you don't really wish to dance with him, do you … or him … and certainly not him. I will see what I can do.'

She laughed at his presumption. 'You cannot do anything, Lord Dorchester.'

'Oh, but you see … I can.' He stepped yet closer. The way he looked at her made her almost feel rooted to the spot, cornered, although she wasn't entirely sure if she was scared or not. She felt she should be but somehow only found herself staring into the man's eyes instead. At last she shook herself out of her reverie – as that is what it felt like – and glanced anxiously around.

'Well … I really must speak with Lord M … Lord Melbourne … he should be here somewh-'

'I wouldn't worry about him. He has far more important things to trouble himself with. The country won't run itself, you know.'

She sniffed away his assertion. 'Well, even the Prime Minister is allowed the occasional night off. Where is he, I wonder?' Her eyes sought Lord M out but he was nowhere to be seen. Victoria swallowed hard. She should go and search for him but her feet seemed to defy her.

'He is clearly occupied. But I am not. Now … let us dance.'

'But I am promised to Lord Ilchester next,' she tried, studying her card intently.

The man laughed dismissively, almost mocking. 'He is also occupied … with a large bottle of brandy. I passed him in some disorder earlier. Come, Ma'am … you are, after all, such a wonderful dancer. I have been watching you.'

She blushed, but also found herself unable not to warm to the flattery. There was something about this man which was both impossibly attractive and dreadfully disturbing. She did so wish Lord M was about.

The man took her hand and led her onto the floor. She followed him and her pulse quickened with an excitement which was undeniable.

He held her, moving with a grace and fluidity that she couldn't help but respond to. He was unfeasibly handsome, with a cat-like charm, but it unsettled her more than attracted her. She glanced around for Melbourne again but he was still nowhere to be seen.

If Melbourne was too far from her, even further than the next room, her malaise would creep back, but for some reason it hadn't this time. Her gaze rose to the man before her and realisation dawned at last.

What a fool she had been! What an utter fool.

'I know who you are,' she said, her breath catching.

'Why of course you do,' he smirked. 'I introduced myself.'

'No, you are not that person. Lord Dorchester does not exist. I know exactly who you are.'

'Pray tell. I am intrigued.' It was almost a purr.

'You are Byron.'

He merely deepened his smirk and did nothing to deny it. 'How very astute.'

She tensed against him but found herself still following his lead around the floor. 'You should not have come,' she tried.

'Oh, but I have.'

She glanced about anxiously yet again.

'Looking for your Lord M? He will be a while. The last I saw he was being harangued by a large group of lobbyists over welfare reform. Never his strong point, but he may be able to maintain a semblance of interest and enthusiasm.'

'I need him,' she said, more to herself than him.

'Do you indeed?'

'We should not be dancing.' She tried to pull out of his grasp but he held her fast with an unearthly strength. She was turned and turned and felt herself dizzyingly compelled by him.

Byron held her in closer; each of his fingers dug into her waist. She tried to escape them but could not.

'What a writhing little pussycat you are,' he said, his voice darkly intent. 'And all for lack of him. My my … the Lamb is more influential than I realised.'

'Please stop this.' But she wasn't sure she could stop it herself.

'I will not, I'm enjoying it too much. But wait a moment …' He slowed momentarily, but still held her firmly. 'How do you know who I am? What has he told you? And more importantly … why?'

She turned her head away from him to try not to meet his eyes and in so doing exposed her neck more prominently.

At this he stopped dancing abruptly and stared at her neck, a look of amazement taking hold.

'Well, I'll be damned.'

She dared look at him. 'What is it?'

'It's you.'

'What is?'

Byron's mouth crept up into a sly smile of disbelief.

'He's had you.'

She realised and tugged at her necklace to ensure it covered her neck wounds.

'Too late, my sweet. I know, and I have to say, I'm rather impressed with the man for once. I only came tonight out of curiosity and to meet you. I never dreamt he would have been quite so bold as to sink his teeth into you, the Queen of England no less. Bravo, Will!'

She took advantage of his amazement and pulled herself from his grasp, quickly pacing from the dance floor. She left the ballroom, ignoring the queries as she swept past people. But he followed.

Victoria rushed down the hall, trying to get away. She must find Lord M, she must tell him.

But everywhere she turned was empty hallways and hollowness. Lord M was nowhere to be seen. But the footsteps followed her. She seemed to forget her own palace and after rushing down corridor after corridor she found herself at a dead end.

Immediately, Byron was there and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into a hidden alcove.

'He's not here, I told you. But I am.'

She wanted to yell. She wanted to scream, 'Let me go!' But her mouth seemed to be locked, her tongue silenced. She could only stare at him as he drew closer, forcing her into a corner, preventing any escape.

'He hasn't turned you yet, has he?'

She shook her head, desperate not to give him anything, but seemingly unable not to.

Byron smiled, that sly smile which was at once repulsive and hideously alluring.

'He's eking it out, and quite right too … because you, my sweet little Vicky, are too, too succulent and ripe and perfect.'

His fingers touched her wrist and he drew his hand up her arm. She fought to deny the effect it was having. She wanted to push him away, wanted to run, but her feet seemed riveted to the ground. His hand ran up slowly, leaving what felt like a trail of fire along her arm. He drew it over her shoulder then along her neck. When he reached her head he exerted a force, tipping it back a little, and instead of fighting it she let him.

Stop! Stop! Her instincts screamed, but she couldn't.

Byron stroked over her face with his thumb and she could only admit the sensuous power of it. Still her eyes were locked into his; they had a dark depth she could not deny, like two limitless pools dappled by moonlight.

He leant in closer and murmured, 'We were very close, you know, Will and I. The best of friends.' His thumb stroked, and his fingers angled her head back further. His eyes flittered to the jointure of her throat and shoulder. 'And friends share … don't they?'

Her eyes widened. His gaze was now fixed on her neck and his tongue dampened his lips.

'You don't know what it's like to be sucked out by another, do you? Oh, you'll like it, Vicky, trust me. You'll like it very, very much. You see, unlike little Lamb, I don't prevaricate. I lack any of that tedious, restrictive stuff called doubt. When I take you, you will fly, my sweet.'

Her breath caught and she wanted to scream, but no sound emerged. His hands were on her and they were warm and strong. Her mind told her to pull away, but instead she only seemed to melt into him. Her head fell to the side, inviting his bite.

He smirked and when he did she saw his fangs.

Yes, yes, it would feel good, wouldn't it? Different, new, fresh and sharp and deep. Oh, yes

She bared her neck for him.

'Good, good girl, oh, you are such perfection. How I will enjoy this … and then keep you. Mine forever.'

His eyes reddened, far more acutely than Lord M's ever had. His face was stretched and tight so that his skull was nearly visible beneath. He had a sudden horrific malevolence which should have terrified and repulsed her but only made her want more. She was beyond escape. She welcomed his fangs.

'Together we will rule,' he continued. 'Together, we will be magnificent. He may not have turned you … but I will.'

With a gasping cry of anticipation, Byron threw his head back and gripped her shoulders painfully, ready to plunge his fangs deep into her neck.

But at that moment he was pulled sharply backwards and off her.

Someone had taken hold of him and in the next instant a blow was delivered which hit Byron with such force across the jaw that he stumbled back and fell with a thud to the floor.

'No!' yelled a voice which at once wrenched Victoria from her nightmare and cossetted her. Melbourne was there and on him. He stood over Byron who lay shocked and bruised on the floor.

Her lover looked more magnificent than ever. Tall and strong, he seemed to possess an almost supernatural power. His eyes burned red, his fangs were out, sharp and furious. Reaching down, he grabbed Byron brutally and dragged him to his feet, only to land another brutal blow across his jaw. But this time he didn't fall as Melbourne held him too strongly and started to rain down blows upon him, ending with a knee in his stomach which made Byron collapse in doubled-up agony on the floor.

Melbourne immediately bent down and picked him up, making him appear feather light rather than the weight of man he actually was. He carried him forcefully to a window and opened it.

'Never again. You will leave and you will return to your place of hell and you will remain there forever.'

And with that he pushed him from the window and Byron tumbled out with a shriek. Victoria heard the dull thud as he landed on the stony path one floor below.

Melbourne immediately turned back, took hold of her and walked, pulling her away from it all.