"Yes," he agreed in low tones.
Nefri regarded him with a knowing gaze, easily able to sense his growing bond to the young maiden. "But, Lucien, do not allow your feelings for Jocelyn to conceal the truth too long. There must be honesty between you," she warned.
Lucien took an instinctive step backward, shaking his head in denial. "She will never understand. How could she?"
The smile returned to the old woman's lips. "You will find a way."
So easy for her to say, Lucien acknowledged wryly. This great and powerful vampire had dedicated her life to the ancient lore of the past. She had created the Veil that brought peace and wisdom to her brothers. She had sacrificed herself to bear the burden of the Medallion until the traitors had attempted to steal it from her. She was beloved among all.
While he had devoted his life to pleasure and revelry. He had never had another depend upon him or seek his protection.
It was terrifying to suddenly be thrust into the role of hero. And even more terrifying to hold Jocelyn's safety in his hands.
"I wish I could share your confidence," he said in husky tones.
"Have faith in yourself, Lucien," Nefri retorted. "I do."
He studied the thin countenance, not for the first time wondering how he had ever been chosen for such a dire task.
"Why?" he demanded simply.
Her expression softened as her hand reached up to lightly pat his cheek.
"Because like Jocelyn, you possess a pure heart and a spirit that brings joy to all those about you."
Hardly the stuff of heroes, he thought with a pang. Surely he should be responsible and brave? Able to slay dragons?
His lips twisted as his gaze returned to Jocelyn. "Will it be enough?"
"That is for fate to decide," Nefri said softly. "We can do only what is in our power. Be at peace, Lucien."
With a last smile Nefri stepped back into the shadows and disappeared.
For many moments Lucien pondered the appearance of Nefri.
We can do only what is in our power...
Wise words, no doubt. He was perhaps not a perfect hero. Or even the most suitable vampire to protect Jocelyn. But there was no one else who would be more concerned for her welfare, he acknowledged with a renewed sense of hope. Or more determined that she was kept out of danger.
He would devote his heart, his soul, and his very life to her.
He could offer no more.
Needing to be close to the maiden, he slowly moved to the bed, then, careful not to disturb her slumber, he lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms.
The sweet scent of her wrapped about him, and with a smile Lucien allowed his taut muscles to relax.
At least for the moment she was safe.
Jocelyn knew she was being a coward.
For three days she had virtually hidden herself in the small, stuffy study. She had avoided Meg and Lucien with determined care and even neglected those upon the streets who so depended upon her.
A part of her was embarrassed by her sudden bout of brooding self-pity. It had been years since she had allowed the pain of her scandal to darken her heart. It was the past. Wishing that she had not been such a foolish, headstrong maiden could alter nothing.
But the encounter with Lord Patten had ripped open the wounds that had never fully healed.
She might easily tell herself to forget the gentleman who had been her downfall and concentrate upon the life she had made for herself, but the heavy mood would not lift.