Hunting Prince Dracula Page 61

Understanding flashed across his features, and he didn’t hesitate to bring his mouth to mine. We stumbled against the wall, the entire length of him encompassing me in his warmth. His hands slid up my frame, knotting themselves in my hair as he deepened our kiss. The corseted world fell away. Restrictions and rules were bindings of the past.

There were only the two of us left standing in a star-filled sky, oblivious to anything but the way our bodies fit together like constellations. He was my match in all ways. I tore my gloves off, allowing my fingers the freedom to trace the planes of his face without hindrance and he replied in kind. His skin was smooth beneath my touch. Thomas drew back, gently caressing my bottom lip with his thumb, his breath no more than a rasp. “Audrey Rose, I—”

I pulled his face to mine and gave his mouth something more interesting to do. Thomas didn’t seem to mind the interruption as we explored new ways of communicating.

Eventually, we dragged ourselves out from our secret spot behind the ferns and danced and laughed until both my feet and stomach ached. Tonight wasn’t meant for sadness and death, I realized. It was a time to recall how extraordinary it felt to be alive.

Dear Miss Wadsworth,

I’m sure it will come as no surprise, but I must inform you that you did not place in the academy this season. After much thought, I determined that the students who were most deserving during this course were Mr. Noah Hale and Mr. Erik Petrov. They exhibited exemplary behavior as well as forensic skill. Perhaps next time you’ll do as you’re instructed. Part of one’s education includes listening to those of higher rank and experience–something you failed at miserably on more than one occasion.

However, on behalf of the academy, I do offer my sincerest gratitude for your assistance. You might become proficient in forensics with more practice and polish, though that remains to be seen.

I do wish you well.

Sincerely,

Wadim Moldoveanu

Headmaster, Institutului Naţional de

Criminalistică şi Medicină Legală

Academy of Forensic Medicine and Science

CEL RĂU-CRESSWELL RESIDENCE

BUCHAREST, ROMANIA

26 DECEMBER 1888

Prince Nicolae leaned against the settee in the receiving room, face gaunt but back to his normal olive complexion. I’d never been more pleased to see him.

“You’re much less corpselike,” Thomas said plainly. I couldn’t help but laugh. For all the growth I’d witnessed in him, there were still some edges that would never be smoothed out. He turned to me, a furrow in his brow. “What? Does he not appear better?”

“I’m glad you’re well, Prince Nicolae. It was…” Calling what he’d been through “awful” felt too mild for what he’d experienced. What we’d all experienced. I inhaled. “It will be quite a story to pass down to our children one day.”

“Mulţumesc. Just ‘Nicolae’ is fine.” A smile began but didn’t fully expand across his face. “I wanted to thank you both personally. And I wanted to apologize.”

He pulled a piece of parchment from the journal he’d been holding and offered it to me. It was the illustration of me—the one where I appeared as if I were the Countess Dracula. I flicked my gaze to his, ignoring the way Thomas snorted from over my shoulder.

“No one believed me,” he said simply, holding his palms out by way of explanation. “I’d tried warning my family, and then the current royal court, but they thought me mad. Nebun. Then… when Wilhelm died… they still didn’t listen. I decided to send threats. I’d hoped they’d take precautions. I assumed if our lineage was being targeted, it was only a matter of time before the king and queen were also threatened.” He pointed at the drawing of me. “I thought you were the one to blame. I drew that with the intention of passing it out to villagers. If the academy wouldn’t listen… Dăneşti or Moldoveanu… I thought maybe the villagers would dispose of anyone perceived to be a strigoi. I’m—I apologize.”

Thomas said nothing. I stood and took the prince’s gloved hands in my own. “Thank you for the truth. I’m glad we’re parting on better terms than when we first met.”

“I am, too.” Nicolae pushed to his feet, using an ornate cane, and limped to the door. “Rămâi cu bine. Stay well.”

A long plain box tied with twine was delivered to my room along with the receipt that afternoon. It was the best Christmas gift I’d ever purchased for myself. Without preamble, I ripped off the twine and opened the lid.

A pair of black breeches were folded along with a silky blouse. My attention fell upon the most precious part of the package: the leather belt strap with gold buckles. When we returned to London, I’d be quite the force to contend with. I hoped Father would be accepting, though perhaps I’d go a bit easy on him at first. I pushed those worries aside and found I couldn’t wait to try on the new clothes. I disrobed immediately.

Tugging the breeches up, I secured them around my waist, marveling at the way my silhouette appeared to have been dipped in the finest ink, then laid to dry in the sun. Gentle curves arced over my hips, then tapered into my legs. I pulled the blouse over my head next and secured it with a series of ties in the front before tucking it into my breeches.

The seamstress had crafted a silky shirt, yet it also had enough structure to keep my assets in place. It was perfectly done.

I ran gloveless hands down the front of the shirt, smoothing away wrinkles as I shifted from side to side in the looking glass. My figure was shown in a way that meant there would be no mistaking me for one of my male classmates when we returned to Uncle’s lessons, no matter if I were dressed like one. Part of me wanted to blush at how much of my form was revealed in this ensemble. But mostly I felt like marching around with my head held high. There was a freedom in movement that I rarely experienced with all my layers and bindings.

With effort, I walked away from my reflection and lifted the leather belt from the box. I stepped one limb into it and secured its buckles against my thigh. I slid my scalpel into place and grinned. If I’d felt like blushing before, this was a whole new level of indecency to be toying with. I’d need to wear my apron to avoid whispers and stares. As of now I appeared to be—

“You’re stunning.”

I flipped around, hand straying to the cool metal of the scalpel sheathed against my thigh. I allowed my fingers to brush against the smooth blade before dropping my hand. “Sneaking into a young woman’s sleeping chambers twice in one month is rude even by your lax standards, Cresswell.”

“Even when I’m sneaking about my own home this time? And when I’ve brought a gift?”

He had a feline tilt to his smile as he laid a canvas against the door and stalked into the room, circling me. Unapologetically, he inspected each inch of my ensemble, then stepped close enough for me to feel the heat of his body.

Suddenly feeling shy, I nodded toward the back of the canvas. “May I see it?”

“Please.” Thomas swept his arm out. “Indulge your fancies.”

I walked over to the painting and turned it around, my breath catching at the sight. A single orchid glittered as if it had been encapsulated in ice. I bent closer, realizing that wasn’t correct at all. The orchid actually was a star-speckled sky. Thomas had painted the entire universe within the confines of my favorite flower. A memory of him offering me an orchid during the Ripper investigation crossed my mind.

I leaned the painting against the wall and flicked my gaze up. “How did you know?”

“I…” Thomas swallowed hard, his attention fixed on the painting. “The truth?”

“Please.”

“You’ve got a dress with orchid blossoms embroidered on it. Ribbons in the deepest purple. You favor the color, but not nearly as much as I find myself favoring you.” He took a deep breath. “As to the stars? Those are what I prefer. More than medical practices and deductions. The universe is vast. A mathematical equation even I have no hope of solving. For there are no limits to the stars; their numbers are infinite. Which is precisely why I measure my love for you by them. An amount too boundless to count.”

Slowly enough to make my heart race, he reached out and pulled a pin from my hair. A section of raven curls fell in a cascading layer down my back as the gold plunked to the floor.

“I am wholly bewitched, Wadsworth.” He plucked another pin, then another, releasing my hair entirely from its restraints. There was something intimate about him seeing me with my hair unbound in this private chamber. About his confession. Like a secret language only the two of us knew how to speak.

“Are you implying your feelings are the result of some sort of spell craft, then?” I teased.

“What I mean is… I cannot pretend I’m not… I suppose what I’m saying is it’s been a few months.” Thomas scratched his brow. “I was hoping to make things a bit more… official. In some capacity. Whichever way you prefer, actually.”

“Official in what way?” My heart banged around the inside of my chest, searching for a crack to escape from. I could scarcely believe we were having such a conversation, especially while alone. Though I could also scarcely believe Thomas had practically said “I love you.” Which was what I needed to hear again. Just once without prodding.

“You know what way, Wadsworth. I refuse to believe you’ve misinterpreted my affections. I am wholly in love with you. And it is permanent.”

There it was. The admission I’d been craving. He nervously bit his lip, unsure even with all his powers of deductions if I could ever truly love him back. I wanted to remind him of our conversation—about how there was no formula for love—but found my pulse racing for an entirely different reason.

I was ready to accept Mr. Thomas Cresswell’s hand. And it terrified and thrilled me at once. He watched as I stood taller and thrust my chin up. If I was going to submit to my own feelings, I needed to be sure of one last thing.