This Same Earth
Page 56
“Don’t be such an old man,” she teased him. “How long are we staying, anyway?”
“As long as we need to, tesoro. I may not be very fond of London, but Gemma and Terrance are close allies and this is the best place to start looking for Lorenzo. If the information you found is correct, he’s still in England or France. Between the three of us and all of their contacts, we have a very good chance of finding him. It may only take a few weeks if we’re lucky.”
She fell silent; finally, he heard her heave a great sigh.
“Beatrice?” He turned to look at her grim face.
“I’m going to have to quit my job.”
Giovanni turned around so she didn’t see his satisfied smirk. “Oh no. Whatever will you do?”
She pinched his ear. “Shut up and don’t gloat. I’m quite capable of surviving without a job, thanks to my superior embezzling skills. I haven’t agreed to work for you yet.”
Carwyn snorted, but Giovanni just grinned.
“Yet.”
Chapter Fourteen
London, England
January 2010
“Another glass of wine…B?” Gemma arched an eyebrow at her in the formal sitting room of the house in Mayfair. They had arrived at the home of Terrance Ramsay only an hour before and been immediately welcomed by more household staff than Beatrice had ever seen outside a period film.
“No, thank you.”
“Perhaps some tea?”
“No,” she smiled stiffly at the extremely elegant vampire sitting across from her. “Thank you.”
Gemma Melcombe may have been Carwyn’s oldest daughter and second child, but her manners, accent, and wardrobe revealed none of what Beatrice suspected were probably humble origins. It wasn’t just the staff that seemed to belong in a period film. Gemma’s delicate features, gold-spun hair, and tinkling laugh made it hard not to imagine her in lace and petticoats, riding in a carriage to a ball.
Which she had most likely done on more than one occasion. Possibly in Giovanni’s company.
Casually involved, my ass. Beatrice plastered a pleasant smile on her face.
“What do you mean, you were involved? She’s an old girlfriend or something?”
“Nothing that serious, tesoro. I just wanted to let you know. We’re friendly now. She’s apparently quite happy with her fiancé.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous? You said it was years ago.”
He had winked at her. “A vampire can hope, can’t he?”
Beatrice hadn’t asked more about their involvement, and she pushed away the cold lick of jealousy, knowing it was unreasonable. Giovanni, for all his keen intellect, could be startlingly obtuse about human nature at times. Because whatever he thought about their friendship, Gemma Melcombe was completely in love with him.
“Perhaps I should show you to your room,” Gemma said with a polite smile. “I’ve prepared one of our guest suites for you. The windows are east-facing, so you’ll be able to enjoy the morning—”
“Beatrice will share my room, Gemma,” Giovanni murmured.
He had been sitting next to her on the small sofa, lost in his thoughts and absently playing with the ends of her hair. Upon their arrival, Carwyn and Gemma had taken a few moments together, presumably to talk about Ioan, before Terry and Carwyn had retreated to the study to speak to Terry’s lieutenant about the current political situation, leaving Giovanni, Gemma, and Beatrice in the elegant sitting room to become acquainted.
Giovanni’s skin, Beatrice observed with perverse satisfaction, was still flushed from feeding from her the night before, and she noticed he seemed quicker than he had been in weeks. His amnis was stronger, as well; she wondered how much his diet of donated blood had been affecting his health.
“You want her to share your room in the basement?” Gemma laughed, cutting her eyes toward Beatrice. “Surely she will want something brighter, Gio.”
“We always share a room. We both rest better that way.” Beatrice tried not to sound smug, but she remembered Giovanni telling her years ago that no one had seen him sleep in hundreds of years, so she knew Gemma was probably included in that. She placed a proprietary hand on his thigh and smiled.
“Well—” Gemma’s blue eyes frosted. “—I’m sure that will be fine.”
“Tesoro, if you want to rest, I will meet with Carwyn and Terry and fill you in at first dark. Gemma, will you be joining us in the study?”
“Of course,” Gemma said. “Terry always asks for my opinion. It’s what makes us such excellent partners.”
“I forgot to offer my congratulations on your engagement. You and Terrance are a wonderful couple.”
Beatrice could see the flash of hurt in Gemma’s eyes and wondered again how Giovanni could be so dense.
“Thank you. We’re very happy. I’m sure you can imagine how pleased Father is, as well.”
“Congratulations,” Beatrice added. “If you could show me to a phone, I have a few calls to make before I turn in.” She turned to Giovanni, still resting a hand on his thigh. “I need to talk to Dez, and I’ll call Dr. Stevens this afternoon.”
He frowned and reached up to trace her cheek. “All joking aside, I am sorry about your job. I never intended—”
“Oh, yes you did,” Beatrice laughed. “Don’t lie. You wouldn’t have forced the issue, but don’t pretend like you’re not pleased.”
“As long as we need to, tesoro. I may not be very fond of London, but Gemma and Terrance are close allies and this is the best place to start looking for Lorenzo. If the information you found is correct, he’s still in England or France. Between the three of us and all of their contacts, we have a very good chance of finding him. It may only take a few weeks if we’re lucky.”
She fell silent; finally, he heard her heave a great sigh.
“Beatrice?” He turned to look at her grim face.
“I’m going to have to quit my job.”
Giovanni turned around so she didn’t see his satisfied smirk. “Oh no. Whatever will you do?”
She pinched his ear. “Shut up and don’t gloat. I’m quite capable of surviving without a job, thanks to my superior embezzling skills. I haven’t agreed to work for you yet.”
Carwyn snorted, but Giovanni just grinned.
“Yet.”
Chapter Fourteen
London, England
January 2010
“Another glass of wine…B?” Gemma arched an eyebrow at her in the formal sitting room of the house in Mayfair. They had arrived at the home of Terrance Ramsay only an hour before and been immediately welcomed by more household staff than Beatrice had ever seen outside a period film.
“No, thank you.”
“Perhaps some tea?”
“No,” she smiled stiffly at the extremely elegant vampire sitting across from her. “Thank you.”
Gemma Melcombe may have been Carwyn’s oldest daughter and second child, but her manners, accent, and wardrobe revealed none of what Beatrice suspected were probably humble origins. It wasn’t just the staff that seemed to belong in a period film. Gemma’s delicate features, gold-spun hair, and tinkling laugh made it hard not to imagine her in lace and petticoats, riding in a carriage to a ball.
Which she had most likely done on more than one occasion. Possibly in Giovanni’s company.
Casually involved, my ass. Beatrice plastered a pleasant smile on her face.
“What do you mean, you were involved? She’s an old girlfriend or something?”
“Nothing that serious, tesoro. I just wanted to let you know. We’re friendly now. She’s apparently quite happy with her fiancé.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous? You said it was years ago.”
He had winked at her. “A vampire can hope, can’t he?”
Beatrice hadn’t asked more about their involvement, and she pushed away the cold lick of jealousy, knowing it was unreasonable. Giovanni, for all his keen intellect, could be startlingly obtuse about human nature at times. Because whatever he thought about their friendship, Gemma Melcombe was completely in love with him.
“Perhaps I should show you to your room,” Gemma said with a polite smile. “I’ve prepared one of our guest suites for you. The windows are east-facing, so you’ll be able to enjoy the morning—”
“Beatrice will share my room, Gemma,” Giovanni murmured.
He had been sitting next to her on the small sofa, lost in his thoughts and absently playing with the ends of her hair. Upon their arrival, Carwyn and Gemma had taken a few moments together, presumably to talk about Ioan, before Terry and Carwyn had retreated to the study to speak to Terry’s lieutenant about the current political situation, leaving Giovanni, Gemma, and Beatrice in the elegant sitting room to become acquainted.
Giovanni’s skin, Beatrice observed with perverse satisfaction, was still flushed from feeding from her the night before, and she noticed he seemed quicker than he had been in weeks. His amnis was stronger, as well; she wondered how much his diet of donated blood had been affecting his health.
“You want her to share your room in the basement?” Gemma laughed, cutting her eyes toward Beatrice. “Surely she will want something brighter, Gio.”
“We always share a room. We both rest better that way.” Beatrice tried not to sound smug, but she remembered Giovanni telling her years ago that no one had seen him sleep in hundreds of years, so she knew Gemma was probably included in that. She placed a proprietary hand on his thigh and smiled.
“Well—” Gemma’s blue eyes frosted. “—I’m sure that will be fine.”
“Tesoro, if you want to rest, I will meet with Carwyn and Terry and fill you in at first dark. Gemma, will you be joining us in the study?”
“Of course,” Gemma said. “Terry always asks for my opinion. It’s what makes us such excellent partners.”
“I forgot to offer my congratulations on your engagement. You and Terrance are a wonderful couple.”
Beatrice could see the flash of hurt in Gemma’s eyes and wondered again how Giovanni could be so dense.
“Thank you. We’re very happy. I’m sure you can imagine how pleased Father is, as well.”
“Congratulations,” Beatrice added. “If you could show me to a phone, I have a few calls to make before I turn in.” She turned to Giovanni, still resting a hand on his thigh. “I need to talk to Dez, and I’ll call Dr. Stevens this afternoon.”
He frowned and reached up to trace her cheek. “All joking aside, I am sorry about your job. I never intended—”
“Oh, yes you did,” Beatrice laughed. “Don’t lie. You wouldn’t have forced the issue, but don’t pretend like you’re not pleased.”
