Of silk and steam, p.34
Of Silk and Steam, page 34
“I am not a good man, nor a kindly one. I am what my father made me, as I have tried to make you. A duke. A man of power. Marguerite…for a brief moment in my life, she made of me something else. She made me happy. And when she was gone, so was her light in my life, and all I had left was you.
“It took me a long time to be able to look at you and not see what I had done.” The duke toyed with his sleeve. “I know you think I despised her, but the truth is…” His voice roughened. “I shall never forgive myself for what I did to my Marguerite. The doctors said afterward that she wasn’t built to accommodate children. I should have left well enough alone.”
No. Caine wasn’t going to do this to him. Leo steeled himself. “Who wrote that pretty speech?”
To give him his due, the duke didn’t try to lie. “Madeline. She seemed to think…” He sighed, then added stiffly, “The sentiment was mine. The words…”
Hers. “You should take care of her. She may be all that you have left someday.”
“Leo—”
“Why did you never let me speak her name? Or show me her photographs?” The sleep deprivation, the strict discipline and harsh training as a child…he thought he understood that now, but the rest…
“I did not wish to be reminded of her. I did not wish to show the world my weakness.”
An awkward silence reigned between them.
“I am not like you,” he told Caine. “No matter how many times you tried to whip me into your shape.”
A dignified nod. “You are like her. You always have been. Questioning everything, championing causes that have no financial worth or personal gain. Disobeying me at every turn. She always spoke her mind, arguing that we were too harsh on the human classes…” His voice trailed off. “She would have been proud of what you have become, what you have achieved.”
More silence. A glimmer of the mother he had never known.
“Do you think this changes anything?” Leo demanded. In the past few days he’d thought he’d finally found peace with his past—and with the man he called a father. He had Mina now, and his sisters and brother, a family that Caine could not even begin to comprehend. He’d even begun to renew his friendship with Malloryn, despite being fairly certain about what had caused the rift between them. Malloryn had wished him well on landing Mina, but there’d been a hint of sadness hidden behind his cynical smile.
“You are my son,” Caine said. “No matter what the world says. I have lost her, but I will not lose you, no matter what I must do.”
Leo barked a laugh. “You manipulative son of a bitch. You had the chance to prove yourself my father in Council chambers.”
“I never…I didn’t expect it. I didn’t know what to do.”
“You didn’t know who to choose,” Leo corrected icily. “Your loyalties to that bastard, or your ties to me.”
“That’s not true.” This time there was a hint of steel to the words. “I made my choice. I killed my prince and broke my word, for you. Everything that I have ever believed in… Change…change does not sit well with me.”
Leo shook his head. Everything that he thought he’d settled within himself in the last few days was thrown into turmoil. In spite of everything, a part of him wanted to believe Caine’s words. His own personal weakness. “I’ve delivered my queen’s message. Consider my familial duties finished.” He turned and strode toward the door.
“Wait!” Caine shuffled across the carpets, pushing the journal into Leo’s hands. “Here! Before you go. Take this! For your…for your fiancée. Perhaps this will explain some matters for her.”
Not that there was any choice. Leo’s fingers curled around the leather-bound spine. “What is it?”
“An abomination,” Caine said. “And a miracle.”
Leo flipped the journal open.
Project: Dhampir.
An initiative undertaken by the Dukes of Lannister, Casavian, and Caine.
1864.
That caught his attention. More than fifteen years ago. What in blazes had Caine and Casavian been working on together, especially when they’d despised each other?
Spidery scrawl filled the journal. Test notes, tables of subject names, CV levels… Leo flipped through the pages swiftly. “What is this?”
“An undertaking. A means to transmute the effects of the Fade by means of an elixir vitae. There was word of it from an ancient Oriental transcript that spoke of the origins of the craving virus.”
Leo’s heart quickened. “Did it work?”
“Only on seven of the test subjects. And…myself.”
Leo’s gaze jerked up, interested despite his feelings. Focusing on Caine’s silvery hair—not gray with age, so much as faded—and his pale, unblemished skin and eyes. “Who else tried the elixir?”
“Casavian, of course.”
Their eyes met.
“What one ventured, the other must as well.” The slightest curling of Caine’s lip. “Only one of us survived it. In a way, he poisoned himself.”
Leo’s hands trembled as he kept flipping through the pages. Mina would be devastated, but perhaps this would bring her some peace of mind. The truth behind her father’s death.
“And the elixir vitae?” he demanded. Honoria’s vaccination could reverse the effects of the craving to a point, but what if one could change the fate of all blue bloods? To control their evolution, as Caine had?
“The secret to the elixir…you will find that at the end of the journal.”
Leo hurriedly riffled through the pages to the back, where he found an entry written in a less than steady hand.
It has been decided to destroy all records of this project. All of the test subjects are to be executed by Vickers, the Duke of Lannister, and all documents destroyed, after the debacle of Subject X. The testing facility suffered a fire and all that remains of my work is this one journal. I should destroy it, for the elixir is a most dangerous tool in the wrong hands.
However, I cannot bear to see all of my work—of the last fifteen years—turn to ash. Perhaps, if I were a stronger man, I would consign these records to the fire myself, but pride—vanity—compel me to keep some record of such flawed genius.
If you read this, you will know that I have created a creature of such utter perfection that God himself has cursed me for my impudence, and that perhaps, for the first time in my life, I understand the consequences of dabbling in matters best left to the Almighty.
I pray only for redemption now.
With regret,
Dr. Erasmus Cremorne
“It is dangerous knowledge,” Caine said softly. “A weapon in the right hands.”
And you’re placing it in mine. His curiosity was stirred, an itch beneath the skin. Perhaps an inclination inherited from Todd, and Caine, the bastard, knew it. “What happened to the doctor?”
“He hanged himself shortly after writing this appendix. He sent the journal to a compatriot of mine. However, I managed to intercept it in time.”
Leo shut the book with a hard slapping sound. “Do you think this can buy my goodwill?”
“Perhaps I think you will know how best to use such knowledge. I have no need of it now.”
Eyes narrowing, Leo gave a terse nod. “Thank you.” For what it would mean to Mina.
The duke took his seat again, folding into his padded armchair with a stiff kind of grace that made a blue blood seem clumsy. His fingers laced over his middle. “You should continue our chess game. You still have deplorable lack of foresight. I can teach you how to—”
“I’ll think about it.” He eyed those laced fingers. Left hand over right, the same as his own manner of sitting at times. A disconcerting thought. “And now, I believe I have an appointment at my club.”
“Leo?”
Leo jerked the door open, tucking the journal beneath his arm. “We’re done here.”
“I am proud of what you have achieved. You have done what I could not see was necessary for our country.”
The words followed Leo through the doorway, and if he slammed the door a little harder than necessary, nobody was around to see it.
The easiest thing to do would be to walk away and close this chapter of his life. Caine had done little but cause him pain over the years, and nothing about this sudden revelation spoke of any change to that. Caine was—and obviously always had been—a manipulative, cold-hearted bastard. But Leo paused at the bottom of the stairs as the maids rushed forward with his coat, hat, and gloves. …I killed her. I killed my Marguerite… Something had quivered in the duke’s voice then. Not the sound or words of a man who’d married for a political match, and if he truly had been raised the way he’d raised Leo, could Leo blame him?
Perhaps his mother’s death had more of an impact than Leo could ever realize. Caine had no one else to show him how to live any differently. It was true that Caine did not understand change. He was a relic of the past in more ways than one.
The footmen holding the doors open waited impassively as Leo stewed over the matter. He could walk away, but a part of him would always wonder. Perhaps now that he understood why the duke was the way he was, they could form some sort of relationship. It would never be the one he’d desired. Never the father he’d always wanted. But maybe he didn’t need one now.
“Tell His Grace to move my knight to D5.” Taking his top hat, Leo fit it to his head and sauntered down the front steps of Caine House to go find his fiancée.
Epilogue
Six months later…
“I’m not quite certain I understand this custom.”
Leo slid a hand over the small of his wife’s back, the other arm laden with brightly wrapped boxes. Her jacket was a dark aubergine, complete with mink fur around the collar, and a black velvet hat crowned a pile of luxurious red curls. Elegant from top to toe. He’d never had much interest in women’s fashion before their marriage, but peeling her out of each luxurious layer was becoming one of his favorite pastimes, particularly discovering what she was wearing beneath. Mina liked silks and lace and naughty little bits of French frippery that she called undergarments.
Leo liked removing them.
“It’s a human custom,” he replied, holding open the back door to the Warren for her. The scent of baked ham assaulted him, along with something sweet and spicy. “I believe that the Countess of Leverstein brought the traditional customs with her from her homeland. Since the Echelon refused to partake due to the holiday’s religious undertones, humans took to it with deliberate enthusiasm.”
“Christmas,” Mina murmured. “How quaint.”
The realm’s first official Christmas, something the queen had set in motion to celebrate the passing of her husband’s tyranny and help to bring in a New Year. Tomorrow they’d be expected at Balmoral, where the queen was spending the holidays, for a Christmas dinner. Tonight, however, was something he planned on sharing with his own family before the train trip in the morning.
Brushing snowflakes from Mina’s back, he stared around the kitchen. Copper pots hung from the ceiling and an enormous stove dominated the hearth. It was like walking into a wall of heat and scent, almost a little like coming home.
Esme entered the kitchen, moving much more slowly than she had before. The froth of bows and silk drapery on her dress somewhat disguised the distinct bulge of her figure, but nothing could hide her brilliant smile and the bright glow of her eyes. Far from struggling with her condition as Honoria had, Esme looked as though it suited her.
“Oh, Barrons,” she said, hurrying forward. “And Duchess. Here, let me take those from you.”
Leo twisted out of the way. “Absolutely not.”
Esme’s lips thinned. “I wasn’t aware I was suddenly useless.”
“’Ardly.” Rip’s voice echoed in the room as he entered on the heels of his wife. “Leo. Duchess.” He nodded. “What are you doin’ in ’ere, woman? This is tradition.” Taking hold of Esme’s shoulders, he turned her about. “Women stay out o’ the kitchen today. Blade and I managed not to burn the duck last year, and we can do it again today.”
Esme gestured over her shoulder. “Come on in then. Everybody’s waiting in the sitting room. I’ll just fetch some—”
“You’ll sit,” Rip growled, steering her through the door. “And let me do the work. Now what were you goin’ to fetch?”
The door closed behind them.
Exchanging an amused glance with Mina, Leo helped her out of her jacket. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he curled his arms around her and drew her back against his chest. “That shall be us one day.”
“I doubt it.” She laughed. “Neither of us can cook.”
Leo pressed his mouth against her neck, the vibrancy of her laughter jolting against his lips. It was one of his favorite places to kiss her—the soft skin now warmed by her coat and smelling faintly of the rose soap she used on her hair. His arms softened, his lips lingering there.
“Leo,” she warned, tugging free. There was a hint of warmth in her eyes, that melting little expression she got when she was intent on teasing him. “Later.”
“Are you going to be my present?”
“If you behave, I might let you unwrap me,” she teased, reaching up for her hat.
Watching her undress was almost as enjoyable as doing it himself. Leo set the presents down on the kitchen counter and helped her pluck her hat pins free.
“Do you know,” she murmured, glancing up from beneath her thick, dark lashes, “that a trunk arrived from Madame Peignoir’s today?”
“Mmm?” He glanced down into those warm brown eyes, his cock hardening a little. Madame Peignoir was the perpetrator behind most of the flimsy little bits of lace. He could just imagine.
“You should see what I’m wearing under all of this.”
“Is this a new way of torturing me?” He tossed her hat aside and stepped closer. He pinned her against the bench, the sleek press of his trousers lost in the swagged velvet skirts she wore. His voice dropped. “Or are you inviting me to do wicked things to my wife in my sister’s kitchen?”
“I don’t think—”
“Sounds terribly fascinatin’,” Blade said, shoving the door open and giving them a bland smile. “But Esme says, ‘not in her kitchen,’ and some of us ’as preternatural ’earin’.” He winked at the duchess.
Molten relaxation washed off her, replaced by her usual upright pose. Leo rubbed the back of his fingers against her cheek, shot her one last amused smile, and then stepped back. Later, his eyes told her.
I’ll hold you to that, hers replied.
“Blade,” he said, nodding at his brother-in-law as he shrugged out of his own greatcoat. “Merry Christmas.”
“Sir Henry. The Hero of the Realm.” The duchess tipped her own head in a polite nod, her eyes devilish. It wasn’t beyond her to provoke her brother-in-law, and she’d recently figured out that the use of his proper name and title made Blade’s nose itch a little. Blade might have taken a great deal of credit for the uprising, but it embarrassed him when people called him the Hero of the Realm in the streets. “Should I curtsy?”
“Duchess,” Blade replied, swinging the door open and gesturing through it with an elegant bow. He wasn’t above retaliation.
Light and laughter welcomed them into the sitting room where everyone else was gathered. Lena came to her feet with an enormous smile and hurried forward to press a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “I thought you two were never going to arrive! We’ve been waiting all night to distribute the presents!”
Presents. “Damn it, I’ve left them in the kitchen—”
“I’ll get them,” Lena replied promptly. She turned toward Mina and took her hands, a little more reserved now. “Duchess.”
“Mina, please.”
Leo didn’t quite watch the exchange, but it made him relax a little when Lena repeated her name, wished her a “Merry Christmas,” and then kissed Mina on the cheek. Forgiven, he suspected, but not entirely forgotten, though time would heal that wound.
There was a never-ending barrage of people to greet: Will, looking more relaxed than he’d been in a while; Charlie, who clapped hands with Leo with a weak smile, before glancing at Lark who murmured a hullo to Leo and pointedly ignored Charlie; and then Honoria and the baby. Tin Man’s absence from the scene was a hollow blow, and he noticed Charlie shooting Lark hesitant glances as they avoided each other.
Leo arched a brow at Honoria, then gestured to the young pair standing apart. Lark had lost a great deal of weight since Tin Man’s death, and he’d heard that she’d had a few choice words to say to Charlie at the funeral. Blade had gone easy on the lad in the end; Lark’s grief was punishment enough.
Honoria graced Leo with a sad smile and a little shrug that could have meant anything. “It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise.” Leaning in, he kissed her cheek. “It’s been too long.”
“I hear Her Highness has been keeping all of you busy.”
“One would think she plans to introduce ten years’ worth of legal changes in one,” he said dryly. “It’s keeping Mina on her toes though. The situation suits her.”
Honoria snuggled baby Emma against her throat, while Blade watched his wife from across the room. Mina looked a little out of her depth, but she graciously accepted a glass of blud-wein and settled in beside Esme on a sofa by the roaring hearth. “She suits you.”
“You sound surprised.”
“No.” A secretive smile. “If anyone was ever to catch your eye, it was going to be someone with a mind of her own. Easy bores you.”
Blade sauntered over, leaning in to smother kisses under Emma’s jaw. “Easy bores most men. ’Ere, luv. Let me take ’er for a moment and give you a rest.”
Honoria reluctantly handed over her daughter, settling Emma’s white bonnet more securely on her head. Blade cooed at her, lifting her high in the air as he strolled toward the fireplace. Honoria laughed under her breath. “Not that it has anything to do with playing dirty.”
