Jane knew her friend was trying to cheer her up. She appreciated the effort and didn't want Clair to feel bad, so in a lighter manner she said, "All right, I have it. My life could be the play Hamlet—all of us doing our familial duty."
Clair waved the suggestion away. "No, too gloomy. Everyone dies in Hamlet. Your ending will be a happy ending."
" 'To sleep, perchance to dream,'" Jane quoted. And dream she did. Of a world where love reigned and she was queen. Of a father who adored his daughter, whose only duty was to love and be loved. Of a vampire with a rakish smile and a heart that beat just for her.
Clair grinned. Yes, Jane was perfect for Asher; she knew more than enough Shakespeare. "All's well that ends well," she joked. Now, if Ian would go have a talk with the piqued Asher and get quickly back to bed, she had a few dreams to come herself.
"Somehow I doubt it," Jane remarked. After a moment she added, "Well, at least Orville can be happy."
"Hmm?" Clair asked, distracted.
"He won't go to the butcher," Jane told her. "Just a vampire's lair." But then a look of horror crossed her face. "Good grief! Does Asher like pets? Vampires don't drink bird blood, do they?"
A Van Helsing by Any Other Name…
Returning to the library, Ian found Asher, a study in icy reflection, staring silently out the large bay windows. Even with his world in turmoil, the Earl was still the best-dressed vampire about town. Yet, below that facade was a smoldering rage that was ready to burst into a white-hot inferno.
Ian wondered if Asher would suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune, or if he would take up fangs against his sea of troubles? He sincerely hoped not.
Warily Ian seated himself at his large mahogany desk. Asher glanced over at him. The vampire's face gave no indication of the violence of his feelings, but he stiffly raised a hand, growling, his eyes glowing with a strange bluish red light.
"Say nothing about where I was staked," he said. "In fact, a blood oath of secrecy might be best."
Ian stifled a grin. He was no fool. To get staked where he had must be mortifying for the arrogant earl. He couldn't resist a little ribbing. "Perhaps you're slipping, old man. You might want to practice your lovemaking techniques if this is what you get in the end."
Asher turned, his eyes ablaze. "You know better than that! Miss Jane is simply a pain—in the arse. She's a menace to polite society and clothing everywhere."
Ian nodded because he couldn't help but agree. Jane Van Helsing had certainly put a crimp in this party along with the stake in Asher's backside. "In this day and age, being found alone with an innocent unmarried female in a state of dishabille is asking for marriage. She's stuck you both in an unpleasant situation I'm afraid," he admitted.
Asher's rage flared, and he was clearly unamused. "Huntsley… take care where you step."
But Ian had no choice. As host of the house party, he was responsible not only for Asher's well-being but also Jane's. "Well… this wasn't well done, Asher. Miss Paine, besides being a bosom friend to Clair, is a young lady of family. An innocent, unmarried lady. How you two were found… Do I need to speak to you of honor?"
Asher remained silent, his jaw muscles clenched. He glared fiercely at Ian. He wanted to strangle Huntsley with his bare hands. The baron was second, right after Jane Paine.
The thought of Jane made Asher see red; the very idea of her made him cross. The fact that he had longed for the unhinged chit made him want to spout foul curses. She'd never know just how much he wanted to bite her neck and spank her bottom. He was living a nightmare, all courtesy of one crazy girl.
"She's a madwoman! Running about splashing people with brandy, rambling about spiders, sticking people in the ass with sharp objects! I tell you, Huntsley, she's just not natural."
Ian shook his head. Treading cautiously, he said, "Be that as it may, Miss Paine has been severely compromised by you."
"I was the one who was injured!" Asher snarled. "Talk about ripped clothing, that femme fatale is hell on wheels. Renfield is already quite beside himself."
Ian arched a sardonic brow. "You speak of your wardrobe, but Miss Paine will be ruined. No man will want to marry her after this."
Asher snorted. "As if any wanted to before. Huntsley, that calamity-ridden female is safer on the shelf. Bloody damn! Nothing occurred between the two of us. We did not do the deed—and looking back now, I wonder why I was even tempted to tarry with such a demented mortal."
Ian shook his head. "The world of the living is not unlike the undead one. All society will know of Jane's ruin in less than a fortnight. It won't help your reputation any, either. Her family is well-known, and you know how the combined Councils of weres and vampires feel about bringing ourselves into public scrutiny. They will be livid unless you do the honorable thing and marry her." He reminded Asher, "It was not so long ago that we were all hunted nearly to extinction. We must blend in with society and live our lives like humans, or as humanly as possible. Besides, there is your duty. You have ruined an innocent—"
Asher interrupted harshly, running his fingers through his hair. He began to pace, wincing sharply from the wound in his backside. "She's no innocent. Potty, insane, deranged, but no innocent. Bah! No innocent wields a stake like that. Or kisses like that, either!"
Ian glared at him. "You know she's a virgin. And you were trying to get a little taste when you were caught. Honor demands and depends upon your marrying Jane. You were seen in a state of dishabille with her, a respectable lady of good breeding and background, her gown twisted, her breasts half revealed, her lips red and swollen, late at night. You have no choice, Asher, and well you know it. You could escape the scandal by going to the continent if you refuse to do the honorable thing, but the vampire council will hunt you down and imprison you for four hundred years for drawing attention to the otherworldly."
He waited patiently for Asher to gather his emotions. It was a rare opportunity to observe the earl's cool facade so crumbled.
"The woman is consistently inconsistent," Asher complained. "One minute she is kissing me madly, passionately—the next she is planting a foot of wood in my ass!" He banged his fists on Ian's massive walnut desk, and Ian held his breath, hoping it could withstand the vampire's wrath.
The Earl of Wolverton continued his tirade. "Her mind must be the size of a chestnut to do what she did. Besides, the feral female has a foul temper. I do not want to marry her.
"I don't even know her people," he raged on. "Her heritage. I am a bloody earl, for pity's sake. I am a master vampire with a lineage longer than all my titles. I am descended from kings both mortal and immortal." Asher roared, his fist clenched high in the air as he shook it. "I shall not marry beneath me. Most especially not a madwoman!"
Ian debated telling Asher of Jane's lineage, but decided to wait, knowing he would only be pouring fuel on the fire.
"Marriage is the only route," he said instead, hoping Asher would agree. If the arrogant vampire refused, then Major Van Helsing would surely call him out. The attention would be disastrous. The eyes of the ton would be focused on the supernatural world, and one mistake could mean a revelation that could result in full-scale panic. And mortals always tried to kill what they feared. It would be a war—costly, bloody and devastating to men and monsters alike. "There is no other option. Too many eyes saw you tonight."
Asher nodded, his expression brooding. He said, "I, who have spent hundreds of years as a connoisseur of the beautiful, will be shackled to a female only slightly above ordinary." In his anger, he forgot the sweet taste of her kiss and her mouthwatering breasts. No matter how lush, no tit was worth this tat. And her to-die-for neck was little added incentive.