A Night of Redemption (The Night Series Book 2)

The further into the pits of the house they traveled the louder the sounds of the crowds grew. The sweat that had coated his body grew chill, and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He ignored his unease. After all, it was normal to feel restless here. Even upstairs it would never be a warm and welcoming home.

  They bypassed the audience, where he got just a peek of the happy crowd sitting in chairs behind iron bars, before the butler led him up the narrow stairs to the seats that looked down below. An exalted position where only Lord Perkings and his closest friends resided. Lanterns lined the perimeter of the half-circle and a table had been set up with food and drink. Nate’s stomach growled as he took in the roasted duck, cod, and pheasants.

  The man of the estate sat in a plush, red-velvet chair with a woman on each side. Both were finely dressed, although he knew they were not ladies. One slid her hands down the lord’s chest, while the other fed him green grapes from a golden bowl. His mouth watered at the site of those grapes, his thirst and hunger insatiable. The beast inside him wanted the women, while the human hungered for mere food and drink. He could take it all, overpower Lord Perkings, if he wasn’t injured. Blast it, why wasn’t the wound healing?

  “My lord.” He bowed his head slightly, just enough to show respect. “I’ve returned.”

  “So I see, Brockwell.” The man glanced disinterestedly at him, caught sight of the wound and raised a gray brow. “My, what happened to you?”

  “I had one, my lord.” He shuffled forward in his excitement, ignoring the man’s two guards who stiffened in response to his nearness. Perkings was heavily guarded. “Two, actually, but as you can see…I was injured.”

  The man frowned, looking annoyed. He tapped his fingers along the arms of his chair. Fingers covered in golden rings with rubies and diamonds and sapphires. A small fortune. Christopher hungered for those jewels almost as much as he hungered for the food.

  “You lost?”

  Christopher stiffened. “My lord, it was two, a wolf and blood-drinker. I was outnumbered.”

  He waved at one of the women, who slid off his lap and raced to a side table to get him a glass of wine. Her massive bosom practically bounced from the low neckline of her blue satin gown. Blast Perkings for having what Christopher deserved. One day. One day soon this would be his.

  “You’re telling me you had two within your grasp…a wolf and a blood-sucker, but lost them?”

  Christopher swallowed hard. How he hated the man. Despised his arrogance. His money. His title. Once he healed, he would take care of Perkings, guards or not. Below a roar of cheers vibrated the stone walls. It was a small crowd tonight. He could smell blood, pain, death. Something had died. The beast inside him craved that blood, the fight, the attack.

  “I was overwhelmed. Injured.”

  The man’s gaze flickered to his leg where the blood had soaked through his trousers. “Yes, I see.”

  Christopher shifted, the wound aching as he stood. “It’s not healing.”

  “Of course not, you idiot.” Perkings took the goblet of wine and drank so deeply that a trail of the red drink slid down his fat chin. “You don’t heal from the bite of another wolf.”

  Christopher swallowed hard. “I was bit before.”

  Empty, Perkings tossed the cup aside. The clang of the silver cup against the stone wall was drowned out by the roar of the crowd below. “Yes, when you were human.”

  “And if I’m a wolf bitten by another wolf?” he demanded, his skin growing cold, his mind angry and frantic. “What happens?”

  “You die.”

  Christopher released a nervous laugh. “Certainly you can call for a doctor?”

  The man looked completely bored. Below the crowds were screaming, cheering on the winner. Christopher gave into temptation and glanced down at the arena. Through the metal bars he could see a wolf had killed a blood-drinker and was circling the body. Any other day he would have enjoyed the fight.

  “You seem to know an awful lot about us,” Christopher muttered, partly in irritation and partly in curiosity. It annoyed him to no end that the man knew more than he did. Die from a wolf bite? Certainly not. Perkings was trying to frighten him. But it would take more than that.

  The man snapped his fingers and one of his women jumped from his lap, racing to the table to fill a plate of food. “It’s an…interest. A hobby.”

  “Yes,” he replied, holding his tongue. “Of course.”

  “If you’re wondering why I have such an interest…no, I wasn’t attacked. And no, a loved one didn’t die at their hands.” He shrugged, then grinned. “I merely enjoy a good fight between the best. And they are the best.”

  Christopher forced himself to smile. The blood was draining fast from his wound. The entire room spun so he wasn’t even sure if he still stood. The injury needed to be cauterized, or stitched…something. The bastard hadn’t even invited him to sit. Dare he demand a chair? He was, after all, a bloody fucking viscount. He shouldn’t be left standing and waiting like a servant.

  “I need a doctor,” he demanded, having had enough. “And I’d like some nourishment and rest somewhere.”

  Perkings stared thoughtfully down at the arena. They’d caged the wolf and were pulling the remains of the vampire from the area. “You would have died from that fall, but that wolf bite brought you back to life. When you arrived, I had such high hopes. But, as with many things, you’ve become a disappointment.” He nodded toward the dark corner. A guard stepped forward. “Take him to the pit. I have no use for him.”

  “What?” Christopher stiffened. “You can’t be serious!”

  “We’ll see just how well you do.”

  “I’m injured!”

  “Yes, and you’ll die. This way it’s more interesting for all of us. Come now, you don’t want your death to be in vain, do you? Wouldn’t you rather die a hero? A warrior?”

  “No! I wouldn’t!” Not that it mattered what he had to say. The guards grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back toward the door. He struggled within their grip but was too weak to truly fight them off. “I’m a viscount!”

  Perkings sipped his wine. “Such a silly title. Worthless, really. I should kill you myself just for trying to use it to your benefit.” The two women on his lap giggled. His gaze shifted to the guards. “When it’s over, throw him in the Thames. But this time, let’s make sure he’s truly dead.”

  “Perkings!” Christopher cried as they dragged him down the stairs.

  Epilogue

  6 Months Later

  “It’s over,” Meg said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. “Six months, and it’s finally over.”

  She scurried across the chamber in a familiar swirl of apples and vanilla and lay the dress upon the bed. A beautiful amber and gold gown that she claimed matched Beth’s eyes. Beth released a nervous breath and stepped away from the windows that overlooked the back garden. The servants were setting up lanterns and tables for the feast that would follow the ceremony.

  She’d done this before, so why was she so anxious? Perhaps because she kept expecting her husband to pop back to life and ruin it all. Or maybe because so many terrible things had happened that she didn’t truly have faith in her turn of good fortune.

  Meg chuckled. “I still can’t believe you made him wait six months.”

  Beth returned her friends grin. “I wanted it to be…proper.”

  Or maybe, just maybe, she wanted Nate to be sure. But his unwavering loyalty and love hadn’t changed. If anything, they’d only grown closer as a couple.

  “Oh Beth, proper ended long, long ago with the two of us. Now, take off your dressing robe.”

  Meg held up the skirts of Beth’s wedding dress, and helped her into the fine, silk material. She’d owned clothing almost as nice as a youth when she’d lived with her titled, spoiled parents. But it had been some time since she’d enjoyed such riches. The fabric felt like melted butter.

  “Still,” Beth said. “I rushed into my
first marriage and look how well that ended.”

  Christopher had disappeared the day of the attack and Nate had insisted she return with him. He would not take no for an answer. And so she’d returned as the governess, waiting for her husband to arrive. Only he hadn’t.

  “Oh, I’d say it ended perfectly well indeed, with him at the bottom of a river where he belonged,” Meg muttered under her breath.

  Beth should have felt guilt at the comment. At the very least some sort of sadness. How she wished she could dredge up an ounce of feeling for her late husband, but none remained. He was a monster who had done this to himself, and his hatred and greed had gotten him killed. So she felt oddly numb when she thought about him. As if that life had been a dream. Or nightmare.

  “Stunning,” Meg murmured.

  “Look at us,” Beth said, taking in Meg’s pretty mauve gown. “Who would have thought we’d end up here?”

  Meg laughed as she pulled the skirts tight around Beth’s waist, a waist that would never feel the growth of a child again. But she’d made peace with the realization that she could no longer carry children. Although she’d only had a very short time with her dear daughter, she’d savor the moments and appreciate them as much as she could. She had even spoken to Nate about taking in an orphan or two. A lovely little girl would add some warmth to their male-centered abode.

  “Certainly not the kind people of our town,” Meg added. “You wouldn’t believe the way they treat me now. Smiles and curtsies, when only a year ago they barely deemed me worthy enough to make eye-contact.”

  She understood. How many times had they avoided Beth, guessing what went on behind their closed doors. It wasn’t as if her husband’s beatings were a secret. Servants talked, and Beth had gone to town with a bruise a time or two when it couldn’t be helped. As if she had a disease they feared catching, they would merely nod and scurry on their way. But that was in the past, something she would never have to experience again.

  Beth’s gaze went to the windows. Night was falling, and a few stars had managed to pierce the evening sky, twinkling mysteriously against a dark velvet backdrop, their secrets held close. “Do you worry that it’s all just too good?”

  Meg paused. “I suppose I did at first. But truth is, my love, if you look hard enough you can find the bad in anything. I choose to instead look for the good from now on. And sure enough, it’s there.”

  Beth couldn’t help but smile. She had so much good to think about, to appreciate. Nate. The boys. Being a mother, a wife. Being in love. Friends. Family. Everything she had ever wanted. She would not worry that it would vanish. As Meg said, she would merely enjoy it.

  Meg went to the bed and lifted the bodice that went with her skirts. Concentrating, she brushed it clean of any lint. “It’s time to start focusing on the good, my friend. The bad can go to bloody hell for all I care.”

  Beth laughed. “I do wish we lived closer. Tis the only blight on my marriage.”

  Meg sighed. “We’ll meet in the middle to work on our next book. I’m thinking birds.”

  Beth clapped her hands together, truly delighted. She’d dabbled in painting a bird or two, and had wanted a reason to practice more. “Lovely!”

  “Which reminds me…I have a gift for you.”

  Before Beth could question her, Meg reached for a package on the bed that had been hidden by Beth’s dress. “I hope you like it.”

  She’d never seen her friend so nervous. Quick to reassure her, she proclaimed, “I’m sure I will.”

  “Open it,” Meg urged.

  Beth took the package and settled in a chair near the hearth. Nate had insisted on moving her to a better room the moment they were engaged. Mrs. Turner and Reynolds had been delighted Nate finally had someone to trust.

  Nate was only down the hall but she swore she could feel him as if he was right next door. There was more than one night when she’d found him sliding into her bed, having snuck into her room. More than one night when she’d done the same to him, although with his senses he’d known she was coming the moment she stepped outside her chamber.

  She opened the package, revealing a leather-bound book. “Flowers of Cumberland. Written by Meg Bellamont. Illustrations by Beth Chambers.”

  Beth Chambers.

  It took a moment for her to recognize the name. Her name. Her new name. Meg had known she would marry Nate even before Beth had said yes. But then her friend had always known her.

  “It will be in book stores next week.”

  “So soon!” A lump of emotion formed in her throat. She was an illustrator. She was…someone. She wasn’t her parent’s daughter, her brother’s sister, her husband’s wife, she was an illustrator.

  “I thought, perhaps, you’d want to use your new name for a new start.”

  Beth gave a terse nod, it was all she could manage. She feared if she opened her mouth, she’d start to cry. When she’d lived through hell, the one and only bright light in her life had been Meg and her friendship.

  Meg knelt beside her. “Are you well, Beth? I hope you’re not upset with me for not telling you.”

  “No. Not at all. I’m well. Very well,” Beth whispered.

  She drew her fingers over the gold lettering. Her late husband’s name had been a blemish she couldn’t escape, until now. She’d have a new name, a new life with Nate and his boys in less than an hour. She’d be a mother. Yes, it was true she would never have her own child, but she had four wonderful boys. Perhaps more, if they took in a few orphans as she hoped.

  Beth hugged the book to her chest. “Thank you, Meg.”

  Meg gave her a wobbly smile, full of love and friendship, secrets and trust. Besides the stars, Meg was the one who knew what she had truly been through. She leaned forward and hugged her friend, the book trapped between the two of them.

  “He is gone, Beth.” Meg gently rubbed her back. “You’re free.”

  Only a week after the fight, they’d found Christopher’s body in the Thames. They said he’d been shot. Nate had traveled to London to make sure the man was truly dead this time. When he’d returned and given her the nod she’d needed, she’d burst into tears. The constable who had returned with Nate assumed she was devastated, and she’d let him believe her sorrow. He had no idea that it had been the happiest day of her life.

  “Here.” Meg lifted the bodice. “Let’s dress before we both make our faces all puffy and blotchy with tears.”

  Beth set the book on the table and stood, sliding her arms through the sleeves, reveling over the sewn swirls and flowers embroidered with gold thread. Nate had hired a French seamstress, only the best. Meg drew the bodice tight, clasping the buttons at the back. It fit snugly over the curves of her breasts and nipped in at the waist. The gown fit her well. Curious, Beth glanced at the mirror sitting in the corner of her room.

  “Governess no more,” Meg whispered. “Utterly perfect. You look like sunshine.”

  “Indeed.” She stood still as Meg smoothed down her skirts like a helpful handmaiden and studied her reflection in the mirror. How very different she looked. “I do believe I actually appear pretty.”

  Meg laughed. “Of course you do! You’ve always been pretty, and the goodness inside of you only adds to your appeal. Now come, your new family awaits.”

  Beth drew in a deep, trembling breath. “I do wonder though if we will ever find a governess to replace me. I highly doubt anyone will put up with the boys. I do love and adore them, but…”

  “Rambunctious lot,” Meg said, too kindly.

  Beth slid her a wry glance. “To say the least.”

  “Well.” Meg drew her into a quick hug. “You just need to find another woman in dire straits, one who has nowhere else to go.”

  Beth laughed. “Poor girl.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, look how well it worked out for you.”

  Beth frowned. “She will not fall in love with the master of the house. He’s already taken. She’ll have to find her own lord.”

  “Oh
posh,” Meg said, gently patting Beth’s elaborate coiffure, making sure the curls were still in place. “Nate wouldn’t even look at another woman. He only has eyes for you, and you know it. If I wasn’t in love myself, I’d be quite envious.”

  Beth blushed but how could she deny it? She couldn’t, and so instead she held the knowledge close, like a warm hug.

  There was a sudden knock at the door.

  Meg squeezed Beth’s hand. “Are you ready?”

  Beth nodded. She’d been ready for such a long, long time.

  With a grin, Meg moved to the door and pulled it wide. They were both surprised to see Tommy standing there, his usually mussed hair combed neatly into place, his dark suit clean and free of wrinkles, no doubt thanks to Mrs. Turner. “Might I have a moment?”

  Meg’s amused glance found Beth. “But of course. I’ll just wait in the hall.”

  She closed the door behind her as she left the two alone.

  “Mrs. Church,” Tommy whispered, stepping hesitantly forward. “We know you don’t have any children, and Oliver heard Mrs. Turner say that you probably can’t have any because surely a woman of your age would have a child or two by now. But I…we…was wondering…do you think…perhaps we might be your children?”

  Beth’s amusement quickly turned to shock. She couldn’t speak, too choked up by the sudden flow of emotions. The warmth of affection that flooded her body left her quivering and once again near to tears. She’d known they cared for her, but hadn’t expected this.

  “You don’t have any,” he repeated, frowning. “And we don’t have a mother. It’s seems natural, or so Oliver said, that we—”

  “Yes,” she said on a sob. “Oh yes!”

  She lunged forward and gathered the boy into her arms, the skirts of her dress crinkling around them. She knew she’d be a wrinkled mess and didn’t bloody well care. The boys needed her, and blast it, she needed them.

  “Nothing would make me happier than being your mother.”

  “Can we call you that then?” he asked, his voice muffled against her chest. “The others wanted to ask, but were too afraid.”