Tribes Of The Vampire - Eternally Bound Part 3

"He's a n.o.bleman, sir," Henry said. "Certainly, he wouldn't suggest he come to claim Tatiana without meaning to marry her. I am confident, in his translation of our English words, he simply misspoke ... or more to the point didn't speak of it at all. I'm positive that such a n.o.bleman would a.s.sume we knew his intentions were purely honorable. More to the point, one can hardly protest the advantages of such a good match. Tatiana has always wanted to travel and the Count said he'd take her away from here. He promised to give her protection. He must have developed some tender feelings for her if he would go to such lengths to--"

"I just can't believe that ... they were so close, those girls," William broke in, almost lost. "Your grandmother, on your mother's side, always claimed to be descendent of powerful witches. Perhaps...."

"Let us not give credence to that family history, please, Father. Grandmother was certifiably insane. She held conversations with the air." Henry swallowed, guiltily. His father's eyes turned down. Henry forced his heart out of his throat. Everything was working out, he wouldn't ruin it. Smoothing down the straight lines of his dark green jacket, he muttered, "Perhaps we should go up to see her."

"Yes," William said, standing tall once more. "Yes, Henry, I think you're right."

Tatiana moaned. She awoke to discover her father's worried face leaning over her. He tapped at her cheek with the tips of his fingers. She grimaced, jerking away slightly as her mind tried to clear. Blinking, she laid still and listened for the voice in her head to come back. To her great relief, it didn't.

Mr. Sinclair pulled away, standing tall at his daughter's bedside. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his heavy cotton jacket, hooking his thumbs over the outside edge. A deep sigh resounded from him as he looked her over.

"Father? What are you doing here?" Tatiana asked weakly. She sat up on the side of the bed, studying his face before turning to Henry. Henry couldn't meet her gaze. She frowned. "Have I been sick? I don't feel like myself this morning."

"You don't recall?" William asked. His eyes roamed over her almost innocent face. She was perplexed, but that was to be expected. Her wide green eyes stared up at him trustingly. She was pale.

"Recall what?" Tatiana asked, rising to her feet. She turned to them in confusion. "Has something happened?"

Henry finally deigned to look at her. "You don't remember the Count bringing you home?"

"The Count? What Count?" Tatiana frowned. What were they talking about? Her head lightly throbbed and she rubbed warily at her temple. The thick folds of her nightgown flowed as she crossed her bedroom. Finding her silk robe thrown over the back of a chair, she threaded it over her arms. "What are you talking about?"

"Tatiana...." William hesitated.

"Perhaps you'd better sit." Henry placed a meaningful hand on his father's arm, briefly squeezing in rea.s.surance.

Tatiana automatically sat in the chair that so recently held the robe. She waited, watching them both expectantly.

"Alice is gone," William said carefully. Henry cleared his throat. William stopped talking at the interruption and looked at his son. Henry merely sighed, giving a pained glance to the floor.

"She ran away," Henry said. William nodded, agreeing with his son's choice of words. It was clear Tatiana had no memory of what had happened. And, until they were sure or had evidence, they couldn't accuse her of killing the woman. Neither man had been brave enough to charge the Count with the hideous crime. All they'd seen was the large amount of blood on her ball gown the Count had given them as his proof. Since Tatiana wasn't cut, they could only a.s.sume the blood wasn't hers. Then again, there was no proof the blood was even human.

"Alice, run away? Impossible," Tatiana said with a dismissive chuckle. She began to stand. "Go find Thomas. He is sure to know where she is."

"She's gone," William stated, ending the discussion. "Thomas has looked everywhere for her, as has her family."

"Well, it's only been a day." Tatiana stopped as her father shook his head.

"Five," Henry stated.

"Impossible, just yesterday...." She looked from father to brother then back again.

"Tatiana," Henry said sternly, addressing down to her as if she were a small child, "You've been at the old Glas...o...b..ry Castle for the last four days with an Italian Count. You don't remember it? He took care of you."

"No, no he ... he was a dream," Tatiana denied. Her head pounded harder. Did they think she was compromised? Memories that couldn't be her own tried to surface within her mind. "Lady Cottley told me of an Italian Count who let the old ... and I must have dreamt ... him...."

She stopped. Henry was shaking his head in denial. Why was he looking at her like that? Why was her father eyeing her as if she'd gone mad?

Delicately, William said, "It wasn't a dream. The Count saved your life. He's found himself quite attached to you and has asked me for your hand. I have granted it."

Tatiana's eyes narrowed suspiciously, not understanding.

"You are to be married to him," Henry inserted.

"Married? But, I don't know him," Tatiana protested, though she didn't find the prospect of being a Countess all that objectionable. She'd confessed as much to Lady Cottley, hadn't she? "Does this man have a name, or is he just a Count?"

There were more questions she wanted to ask, but seeing her father's expression,she thought better of it. Was he handsome? Kind? Did he carry himself well? Did he say anything about her? She wanted every detail of their discussion. She wasn't going to get it.

"There was a lot of confusion. You'd been gone for four days. It was late when he brought you home to us. He's Italian. I could only understand about every three of his words," her father said.

"Conte Spoleti, I believe he said," Henry supplied.

"Count Spoleti?" Tatiana repeated. The name made her go weak. His must have been the voice she heard in her head. Lightly, she whispered,"Belle mia."

Both men watched her carefully, wary of her changing expressions.

"When?" she whispered, not sure how to feel. Her whole world was spinning out of her control. Nothing made sense. This morning should've been a day like any other. Yesterday she'd been at a dinner party and now she was engaged, compromised, and missing four days from her memory? It was impossible to believe such a wild contrivance. And yet, seeing her father's and brother's faces, she knew it was true.

"He said he would come for you when he is ready," her father answered. He took a hesitant step forward and laid an awkward hand on her shoulder. Tatiana wondered at his cautious look. It was almost as if he was afraid of her. He moved away, backing toward the bedroom door. Suddenly, he was gone, not saying another word. Tatiana could hear his footsteps rushing off.

When she could hear her father no more, she turned her eyes to Henry. He was regarding her carefully.

"He'll come for me? When might that be, Henry?" she questioned. Her words came out in a hush now that they were alone.

She stood to face him. Her hands reached out to take up his. "You saw him, didn't you? What did you think of him? Will I at least meet him properly first? Did you like him? Was he kind? What did he say?"

"What happened?" Henry whispered, studying her face for a sign of the truth. "I went back to the cottage but you were gone.

Everything was gone. What did you do with it? Where did you go? How did he find you? What does he know?"

"With what?" Tatiana asked, confused by the fierce nervousness in Henry's ever-changing expressions. She didn't understand what he was talking about. "What cottage? What was gone? I don't understand."

"You really don't remember?" Henry asked, part in wonder, part in apprehension.

"Remember what?" Tatiana asked. "This is like a nightmare. I expect to wake up at any moment. You say I am engaged. When will I meet him? Why didn't he ask me himself? Why didn't he stay to speak to me if he is taken with me? What is going on, Henry? Please, I beg you to tell me."

"It is how he wished it," Henry said. "He'll make you a fine husband, Tatiana. Trust in Father's decision for you. It's a fine match."

"You say that I've met an Italian Count who wishes to marry me and that I spent the last four days alone with him," Tatiana mumbled, still trying to wrap her mind around the facts. She barely heard her brother's answer. "Why can't I remember him? I don't remember him, Henry. I--"

'Bella mia'.

Tatiana stiffened, feeling a possessive caress down her spine. It was like a ghost walked behind her back. She shivered, cold.

Her eyes closed, as if she could ward the feeling off by her determination. She felt like weeping.

Henry saw the light fade from her features, replaced by a pale haze over her eyes. He took a step back from her. Her skin turned dramatically to an ashen grey, draining all the beautiful life from her complexion. Her eyes almost appeared to darken into emeralds before turning lighter into jade.

"Good G.o.d!" Henry shot, gasping for breath, staring at her as if he saw a dead woman standing before him. "It's true."

Tatiana looked at her brother. He signed a cross over his chest, moving away from her like she carried a pack of demons on her shoulders. He stumbled into her wardrobe, b.u.mping into it with a loud bang.

"What?" Tatiana tried to lift her arms to him, but they stayed heavy at her sides.