Had it simply been designed to allow Drake to be alone with Amelia?
Or had it been meant to put a permanent end to him? And if so, why had the vampire not finished the task? If he were willing to use forbidden powers, he could have destroyed him. Or placed him under a spell that would have held him captive for an eternity.
"But who?" he demanded in harsh tones. "And why attack me?"
Nefri's countenance hardened with a bleak expression. "Those are questions that I fear will be answered soon enough."
After yet another restless night, Amelia rose and attired herself in a muslin gown the soft shade of daffodil. She even took extra care with the raven curls that she piled atop her head, leaving a handful to softly frame her face.
A glance in the mirror assured her that only close scrutiny would reveal the shadows that darkened her eyes and the faint hint of strain upon her features. It was important that she hide her prickling sense of unease. She did not want William or Mrs. Benson fretting needlessly. Having to devote her days to comforting and reassuring them was an additional burden she did not desire.
Smothering a sigh, she ran her hands over the soft muslin of her skirt and squared her shoulders. She was already late for breakfast. If she did not show herself downstairs soon, Mrs.
Benson would be in search of her. The mere thought of her squawking was enough to make her teeth clench.
With a measured step she left the peace of her chambers and made her way to the lower floor.
She discovered a portion of her lingering alarm fading beneath the bright summer sunlight that tumbled through the wide windows. Mrs. Benson had even filled the rooms with freshly cut flowers that managed to mask the less pleasant aromas that drifted from the streets.
Entering the small breakfast room, she was surprised to discover that William had already eaten his meal and departed. As a rule he remained, awaiting her arrival, regardless of how late she might be.
Her brows pulled together in concern. Surely he had not left the house—not after her stern lectures.
Standing in the center of the room, Amelia more sensed than heard someone enter behind her and she swiftly turned to find her housekeeper bustling in with a tray to clear the table.
"Oh, Mrs. Benson, have you seen William?" she demanded, before she could stop the words.
Rather than responding with her usual fuss, Mrs. Benson merely smiled with a surprising satisfaction.
"Yes, he is in the front salon with his visitor."
Amelia blinked in surprise. "A visitor?"
"A Mr. St. Ives. William appeared right pleased to have him call. A nice change from moping about with his long face."
Sebastian.
Suddenly Amelia was aware of that familiar tingle that was racing through her blood. Of course. If not for her distraction, she would have already known that he was near. Perhaps a ridiculous fancy, but one she could not dismiss.
There were times when he rose to mind that she could almost believe that she could actually feel his thoughts and emotions.
Ridiculous, indeed.
"Thank you," she murmured, already moving toward the door. She needed to see Sebastian.
She wanted to ensure that her hasty words of yesterday had not made him utterly despise her.
"I'll be having a nice tea tray prepared in a few moments," Mrs. Benson called after her, in a considerably happier frame of mind than she had been in some days. Amelia could only presume the poor woman had wearied of merely having William and herself as dis-tractions. Any guest would be a blessing.
Resisting the urge to rush down the hall to the front parlor, Amelia instead kept a stately pace and man-aged to enter the room with every semblance of composure.
That did not mean her heart did not instinctively leap at the sight of his striking features and the bronzed hair that had been left unbound to fall against his shoulders. Or that a disturbing heat did not pool in the pit of her stomach as his silver gaze ran an appreciative gaze over her slender form. Only that she managed to hide her fierce reaction with at least a resemblance of equanimity.
The moment she stepped through the open door, Sebastian was swiftly at her side, a rather guarded expression on his face.
"Good morning, Amelia."
She smiled warmly, simply happy to have him near. "Mr. St. Ives."