Elias chuckled. “I’ve always thought of you as the most practical of men, Sir Rhys. The question that we need to answer is whether the Seymours are employing a Vampire knowingly or unknowingly. The stakes are so high I suspect they would do so knowingly to keep their sister safe and the king in their power.”
“Or it may be that there is a Vampire faction devoted to ensuring the ascendance of the Seymours for reasons of their own.”
“The Council encourages factions. It keeps the premier families busy fighting among themselves and allows the Council to grab more power.”
Rhys swung his attention to Olivia, who had been listening quietly, her hands folded in her lap. “Do you know the man who fought me, Olivia?”
She shook her head without meeting his gaze. Irritation laced through him. Either she wanted to help or she did not. This sudden shyness was not like her.
“Perhaps you might bestir yourself to find out.” His tone was sharper than he had intended and Elias glanced at him. Rhys met his interested gaze. “I assumed Olivia was here because she wished to help us.”
Olivia stood up, her fists clenched. “I am here to help.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
“I thought you’d prefer it if I didn’t.”
Rhys raised his gaze heavenward for a brief moment. “What I ‘prefer’ has no bearing. You must take your orders from Elias.”
“I shall. At least he speaks some sense.” She hissed and he caught a glimpse of her fangs. By all the saints, he did not want to argue with her now. It had been a long and tiring day. He wanted his bed.
Elias cleared his throat. “I’ll find out whether the Seymour family has ties to the Vampire community and let you know.”
“That would be helpful.” Rhys focused his attention on Elias. “I’ve set Verity to discover who is getting into the queen’s apartments at night and what they might be up to.”
“That is an excellent idea. Lady Verity is the closest of us to Queen Jane and she has a keen nose for Vampires.”
Olivia snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yet she cannot fight very well, can she?”
Rhys glared at her. “Lady Verity is improving. She has some skills and she is willing to learn.”
“So I see,” Olivia replied. “Although some of the skills you are teaching her are not for the battlefield.”
Rhys set his jaw. “Have you been spying on me again?”
“I merely sought you out when Elias asked me to.” She shrugged. “It is not my fault if you were too busy ‘training’ to notice me.”
Rhys took an impulsive step forward and Elias moved smoothly to block his path. “I regret that I have nothing more to report at this point, Sir Rhys.” Elias even managed to sound genuinely regretful. “I hope to remedy that soon.”
“So do I. The queen must live to deliver her child. The Tudor dynasty must survive.” Rhys nodded at the Vampire. “I appreciate your help.”
Elias looked pained. “Ever since we fought Anne Boleyn and her brother, I have developed a certain . . . tolerance toward humankind. It is very worrying.”
Rhys smiled. “Mayhap your connection with Christopher enriches you both.”
Elias scowled. “Do not even entertain such a thought! I have survived four hundred years of brutal monarchs, the scourge of the Black Death, rogue Vampires . . . Surely one half-breed human cannot change me!”
Elias disappeared and Rhys was left staring at nothing. He turned to go, only to find that Olivia was still there.
“Can I help you, my lady?”
Olivia inhaled sharply. “You smell of that Llewellyn woman.”
“And you are prying into my personal affairs.”
“She will use you just like her cousin did, and then leave you for a more powerful man.”
Rhys set his jaw and pushed past her. “As I said, this is not your concern.”
“It is if she hurts you. I . . .” Olivia hesitated. “I do not want to see you hurt.”
Rhys wanted to keep walking, but something in Olivia’s voice made him pause. Was it possible that Verity was right? That Olivia was in love with him? He spoke as gently as he could. “Please do not concern yourself with me. I spent many years of my life yearning for something that could never be mine. I don’t wish you to suffer like that, Olivia.”
She raised her chin at him. “You think I am suffering? Unlike you, I have all eternity to get what I want.”
She disappeared and Rhys started walking again. Olivia’s reaction hadn’t surprised him. It had taken a catastrophe of the worst order for him to understand that Rosalind was not only lost to him but perfectly happy with her choice.
It would be better if Olivia accepted that her relationship with him must remain as it was—untouched by any amorous intent. But she reminded him so much of Christopher with her passion, her honesty, her naive belief that if she truly wanted something she would get it.
Rhys pushed open the door to the East Tower and shut it quietly behind him. Olivia’s concern for him was also unnecessary. He was in no danger of being hurt by Verity. Rosalind had meant everything to him, whereas Verity . . .
He paused to stare up into the blackness of the stairwell. What exactly did Verity mean to him?
Chapter 7
“Y
ou wish to do what, Lady Verity?” The king’s voice rose with every word and rebounded off the oak-paneled walls and ornate ceiling. Verity fought hard not to wince.
“Do you believe my wife is in danger?”
King Henry was a large man with a fiery disposition and her quiet request to watch over the queen had obviously stirred his temper. His fair skin was flushed red and his small eyes were narrowed and fixed on her.
“There is no cause for alarm, sire. I simply wish to offer the services of the Llewellyn family as an extra safeguard for your queen during this important time.”
King Henry paced the dais in front of her and the gold embroidered thread in his doublet glinted in the candlelight. Verity held her breath. It was just before the last meal, and beyond the tightly closed doors she could hear his courtiers stirring and laughing. The king stopped pacing and pointed his finger at her.
“You are certain that the queen is not in danger?”
Verity met his suspicious gaze. “I am not aware of any immediate danger surrounding her, sire. I just wished to offer my family’s help.”
The king stared at her for so long that she almost forgot to breathe.
“All right, then. Guard my wife. If anyone dares take issue with you, tell them it is a royal command.”
Verity curtsied low. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” She backed out of his presence, leaving him still frowning. Verity consoled herself with the thought that almost lying to her monarch was a small price to pay to keep his wife and unborn child safe. She must remember to confess the sin on the morrow.
She walked down the drafty stone hallway that connected the king’s apartments to the great banqueting hall. A stream of people headed in the same direction and the fatty stench of roasting meat from the kitchen fires caught at the back of her throat. There had to be more she could do to help the king. If only she was as skilled with a blade as Rosalind had been.
Up ahead, she noticed the unmistakable gleam of Elias Warner’s golden hair. Perhaps there was something she could do after all. She picked up her heavy bronze skirts and ran to catch up with him.
“Master Warner.”
He turned at the sound of her voice and regarded her quite amiably. “Lady Verity. May I escort you into the great hall?”
Verity took his proffered arm and admired the lavish silver lace on his sleeve. “Thank you, Master Warner, but I wonder if I might speak to you in private?” She smiled and his silver eyes narrowed. “I promise I will not keep you from your dinner for long.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
Elias guided her out of the great hall and toward the separate kitchens. Servers were already running between the two buildings carrying huge platters of food to feed the hungry masses in the hall. He opened a side door that led into a deserted corridor and followed her inside. The musty scent of preserved apples and pears filled Verity’s nostrils and reminded her of home.
“Now, what can I do for you, my lady?”
Verity took a deep breath. “I wish you to take my blood.”
His sudden smile revealed a hint of his fangs. “You wish to offer yourself to me as food? I am honored.”
“No! I wish you to take my blood as you took Rhys’s, so that we can call on each other in an emergency.”
“I am not sure about this, my lady.” Elias frowned. “Sharing blood with any Druid, let alone a Llewellyn, is considered most unwise among the Vampire kind.”
“Even for a Vampire as powerful as you?”
“Ah, you seek to appeal to my vanity.” Elias nodded approvingly. “I find that quite tempting. I’m not afraid of your power.”
“And I am not afraid of yours.”
Elias held her gaze. “Give me your hand, then.”
She placed her right hand in his. He turned it over and raised her wrist to his nose. “Your heart is beating very fast. Do you feel like prey?”
Verity swallowed hard as she watched his fangs extend and scrape gently against her skin.
“My lady, close your eyes if you are afraid.”
The slightly mocking quality of Elias’s words made Verity even more determined to look. She gasped as his fangs sank into her wrist and then moaned at the sensation. It reminded her of Rhys—of his mouth on her most intimate parts, drawing pleasure from her . . .
As her knees gave way, Elias caught her around the waist and kept her upright. Her face was pressed against the gold chain on his chest and her left arm was wrapped around his neck. Verity stayed in his arms, feeling a peculiar comfort in the Vampire’s strength as he finished feeding.
“Are you all right, my lady?”
She looked into his face, and for the first time saw not the cold mask he wore but the man beneath, the complex being who inhabited a dangerous, threatening world that she understood only too well. Before she could stop herself, she reached up to touch his cheek and he jerked his head away.
Mortified, Verity snatched her hand back. “I’m sorry.”
Elias attempted a laugh. “It is of no matter. A Vampire’s bite can produce the strangest of reactions, even among Druids. Though I am the one taking your blood, a little of mine lingers in you too.”
Verity eased away from him until she leaned back against the wall. “It didn’t affect you, then?”
He licked the tips of his fangs and swallowed hard. “I confess, the purity of your blood made it hard for me to stop drinking.”
Verity shivered at the mellow sweetness of his voice. Druids were supposed to be immune to the effects of a Vampire’s magic, yet she couldn’t shake off the sense of Elias’s power. She wanted to touch him again, to feel his fangs scrape delicately along the pulse at the base of her throat . . .
With a gasp she shook her head to try to clear such insidious thoughts. “Thank you.”
Elias bowed and offered her his arm again. She took it reluctantly, aware that his nearness was still confusing her. She wondered if he felt the same and was simply better at concealing it. He glanced sideways at her and she caught a glimpse of turmoil in his silver eyes, which he quickly suppressed.
“What did Sir Rhys say about your intention to have me take your blood?”
“I have not had the chance to tell him yet.”
Elias opened the door for Verity to pass through. “He will not be amused at the thought of a Vampire tasting a Llewellyn’s blood.”
“Then perhaps I won’t tell him after all.”
Elias gave a delicious chuckle. “Poor Sir Rhys. It seems the Llewellyn women are destined to outwit him at every turn.”
“I hardly think so,” Verity protested. “Sir Rhys seems to hold all the power in our relationship.”
“I doubt he feels that way.” Elias stopped by the main doors into the great hall and bowed. “Sometimes Sir Rhys is too honorable a man for his own good.”
Verity scanned the Vampire’s amused face. It was back to being a mask that concealed all traces of his real emotions. “You will not tell him what I have done, will you?”
“And risk the anger of such a formidable opponent?” Elias brought her wrist to his mouth and kissed the place where he had taken her blood. The tip of his tongue glided over the puncture wounds and she gasped. “I will keep it a secret just between us.”
Verity quickly reclaimed her hand and waited until Elias went past her into the great hall. Through the open doorway, she could see both the king and the queen sitting at the high table. Even though the court was reduced in size, there was still very little room for everyone to sit.
The thought of food made her nauseous and she turned back to the queen’s apartments. Her impulsive decision to share blood with Elias seemed more foolish and reckless with every step. To her relief, the majority of the queen’s ladies had followed the queen to dinner and the apartments were deserted. Verity smiled at two of the older ladies who had remained behind. They both came from Druid families.