On A Poet's Lips Chapter 22
New chapter of The Vampire's Heir
Finally updated
On a Poet’s Lips Ch 22
Pale grey light spread through the room outlining the two figures curled beneath the rumpled coverlet. They’d dallied long through the remainder of the night until finally the clatter of the servants moving in the halls roused them from their languorous ease. The cool morning air made Xander shiver. He twined his fingers through Asheton’s disheveled blonde curls and sighed.
“You must be away, Will, else you be ruined.”
William knew as well as Xander that what one servant knew, soon enough the artfully embellished facts would spread to every household in Bath with deadly results for the both of them. Asheton buried his nose in his lover’s fragrant neck, savoring the delicious fragrance of a night well spent. The warm arms of his beloved were a struggle to leave, but at last he exerted himself to rise.
“One kiss more and I depart.”
A long drugging embrace later and William was nearly unable to find the strength to arise, but at long last fastened his robe about his slender frame and left as quietly as he had entered.
Xander stretched, his body aching deliciously, and yawned. He wrapped the coverlet closer and snuggled into the pillow still bearing the imprint of his lover’s head.
Dreamless sleep overtook him and when he awoke it was long past the hour for luncheon. He took his time dressing, finding pleasure in stroking the tender spot on his throat where he bore the half-healed brand of William’s fangs. He grinned at the stranger in the mirror, sated with pleasure and his eyes half-lidded with remembrance of placing his own marks on the cool white skin. What a magnificent devil he was, his William.
William was waiting for him in the library, invitations and notes in an untidy stack scattered about his desk and an unfolded sheet in his hand.
“I’ve superb news, Xander!”
Xander came to sit in the chair next to the desk and sorted through some of the notes, “Are you going to share your news, or must I wait to read it in the…”
William tilted his head to the side and flashed him a flirtatious grin, “I could be persuaded…” he chuckled, then held out the letter for Xander to peruse. “ It’s from my publisher! He has bought some of the songs from the play and is anxious that I complete the rest.”
“Marvelous news indeed!” Xander read through the letter carefully, “He says here that someone wishes to perform some few scenes privately. He mentions that a particularly fine soprano has been hired to play Dulcith as well as one of Mr. Elton’s protégées to sing the part of Wilfred.”
Asheton contemplated the note again, tapping it against his chin, “I suspect I may know who our mystery patron is. Did you see an invitation for a masquerade ball in there from D’Hoffryn?”
Xander’s stomach sank. He had forgotten about his “fiancée” yet again. He would have to speak with her in private before something went horribly awry. He pretended to look for the invitation in the mass of engraved cards while he thought of a thousand things he should have said when Anyanka made her proposal-had it only been last night?
“Perhaps it will be at Lady Batersby’s musicale. She is quite the champion of the arts.”
“No, no. I’m certain that it is D’Hoffryn. Miss Jenkins mentioned to me last night that her father would be holding a large entertainment at the Abbey and especially requested my attendance.”
Xander leapt up and began to pace around the room, throwing open the draperies to the wan afternoon sun. It was worse than he could imagine. Something would have to be done and soon, before…
“Damnation! Are you trying to scald the flesh from my bones?”
Xander’s eyes widened and he snatched the drapes shut and turned to meet Lord Asheton’s annoyed countenance.
“There’s something troubling you, Xander.” He offered, “If it is about last night…”
“No, no of course not. It’s not that. It’s just that…”
Whatever explanation he would have made was stalemated by the butler’s announcement of a pair of visitors. Now that it was known that the reclusive viscount was receiving, the rest of the afternoon was spent entertaining one curious visitor after another, until the time for revelations was past.
Captain Quinn and his family were among the last to leave and Xander drew him aside under the pretense of looking over a book of nautical maps of the South Seas. The captain fixed Xander with a quizzical eye. “I know nothing more of that man than what was said last night. It’s as though he appeared from nowhere.”
Xander bit his lip in frustration. He had hoped that more information about the mysterious stranger would be forthcoming. “Thank you, Captain. This is strange news, indeed. I shall try and puzzle out more information from my lord Asheton, but he has not made mention of this cousin. I suspect…”
He had several ideas about this mysterious Irishman, several of which would not bear sharing with even such a kind gentleman as Captain Quinn. He flipped through the maps desultorily, trying to bring his emotions under control. It would not do to cause needless gossip though his own fault, but no doubt many of the visitors were also had come today to discover something more regarding the odd manners of the new visitor to Bath.
“Mr. Harris?” Asheton called from his tête-à-tête with Mrs. Quinn and young Miss Winifred, “Would you bring me the transcription of the Belinda’s farewell song from Act III, please?”
Quinn nodded to Xander and the moment was past. The rest of the hour was spent going over the music for the play and many exuberant exclamations from the ladies. The Quinn’s declined a supper invitation and continued on their way to their own accommodations for the evening.
Later, in the steamy confines of the bathing rooms, Xander decided to broach the subject of Angelus. He grit his teeth and began the questioning with a simple one, he thought.
“I hear there was someone new at the Upper Rooms last night.”
Asheton kicked the hot water into froth from his perch on the stone pedestal. “Several people in fact. I believe I saw one of the Royal Dukes, though it could have been just another gouty pensioner.”
Xander came nearer, stroking the ivory skin of William’s thighs with a tender hand, “Someone you know.”
William’s eyes grew hard and narrow, his black brows lowering like thunderclouds over a battlefield, “Leave that alone.”
Xander tried again, moving behind Asheton, wrapping his arms around the other man’s chest in a hard embrace, as the water swirled in angry whirlpools around his waist. “Don’t be angry with me, please, but…”
William was fast, whirling in Xander’s encircling arms to face his tormentor, griping him hard and dragging him into the dark reaches of the baths. With a throaty growl, he crushed Xander to him, bending his head to the side and plunging his fangs deep into the soft flesh of his throat in a near-frenzy. Xander groaned and sucked in deep, frightened breaths of the hot air, gasping out, “Will…please…”
William raised his head, lips glistening black in the darkness and pressed them to Xander’s, hard enough to split the flesh of both their lips and mixing yet more blood in a welter of passion. Finally William relented, and pulled away with a harsh gasp, still clutching Xander tightly. He stared into Xander’s brown eyes for a long moment, and then laid his silvery head on the other man’s broad chest where his heart drummed out a thundering rhythm.
“You’ve seen his portrait,” he whispered, almost unheard over the pounding of his lover’s heart. “Liam D’Angelus, my heir.”
Then it was true. The vampire heir who’d set spies about his progenitor was here, in Bath. But there was something more than mere hatred here, he knew. Something that William was hiding, and something that he was afraid of.
William insinuated his hands around his lover, stroking the hot flesh as though to reassure himself that he would not be abandoned, then sucked in a deep breath.
“You must leave Bath immediately.”
“No! I cannot…I will not leave you!”
“You must. He only suspects, now. If he knows for certain…you have no idea what he is capable of.”
“I will not leave you here alone.”
William closed his mouth in the best way possible, wrenching him backward and bending him to his will, plundering the sweet taste from his lips and savoring the last few stolen moments. Any other time, Xander would have thrown his caution to the wind and fallen into his embrace wholeheartedly. Now, though, he revolted against the very thought of deserting his magnificent devil, his dear Will.
“Please, Will, let me stay a while longer.”
His soldier’s strong arms twined about him, mesmerizing him with the power of hot blood and lust, turning his bones to jelly and his mind to malleable clay, “Until the masquerade, then. But afterward, you must go.”
They floundered in the water, splashing awhile until the play turned serious and William pressed his lover high against the water’s edge. They savored each other’s flesh for a time, kissing and nibbling until neither could bear it longer.
Near at hand, voices drew close and a small light appeared in the doorway leading toward the tepidarium.
“Someone will hear us, Will. We must stop.”
“I hear nothing but the beat of your heart, my boy.”
Previous chapters in Memories spander
Finally updated
On a Poet’s Lips Ch 22
Pale grey light spread through the room outlining the two figures curled beneath the rumpled coverlet. They’d dallied long through the remainder of the night until finally the clatter of the servants moving in the halls roused them from their languorous ease. The cool morning air made Xander shiver. He twined his fingers through Asheton’s disheveled blonde curls and sighed.
“You must be away, Will, else you be ruined.”
William knew as well as Xander that what one servant knew, soon enough the artfully embellished facts would spread to every household in Bath with deadly results for the both of them. Asheton buried his nose in his lover’s fragrant neck, savoring the delicious fragrance of a night well spent. The warm arms of his beloved were a struggle to leave, but at last he exerted himself to rise.
“One kiss more and I depart.”
A long drugging embrace later and William was nearly unable to find the strength to arise, but at long last fastened his robe about his slender frame and left as quietly as he had entered.
Xander stretched, his body aching deliciously, and yawned. He wrapped the coverlet closer and snuggled into the pillow still bearing the imprint of his lover’s head.
Dreamless sleep overtook him and when he awoke it was long past the hour for luncheon. He took his time dressing, finding pleasure in stroking the tender spot on his throat where he bore the half-healed brand of William’s fangs. He grinned at the stranger in the mirror, sated with pleasure and his eyes half-lidded with remembrance of placing his own marks on the cool white skin. What a magnificent devil he was, his William.
William was waiting for him in the library, invitations and notes in an untidy stack scattered about his desk and an unfolded sheet in his hand.
“I’ve superb news, Xander!”
Xander came to sit in the chair next to the desk and sorted through some of the notes, “Are you going to share your news, or must I wait to read it in the…”
William tilted his head to the side and flashed him a flirtatious grin, “I could be persuaded…” he chuckled, then held out the letter for Xander to peruse. “ It’s from my publisher! He has bought some of the songs from the play and is anxious that I complete the rest.”
“Marvelous news indeed!” Xander read through the letter carefully, “He says here that someone wishes to perform some few scenes privately. He mentions that a particularly fine soprano has been hired to play Dulcith as well as one of Mr. Elton’s protégées to sing the part of Wilfred.”
Asheton contemplated the note again, tapping it against his chin, “I suspect I may know who our mystery patron is. Did you see an invitation for a masquerade ball in there from D’Hoffryn?”
Xander’s stomach sank. He had forgotten about his “fiancée” yet again. He would have to speak with her in private before something went horribly awry. He pretended to look for the invitation in the mass of engraved cards while he thought of a thousand things he should have said when Anyanka made her proposal-had it only been last night?
“Perhaps it will be at Lady Batersby’s musicale. She is quite the champion of the arts.”
“No, no. I’m certain that it is D’Hoffryn. Miss Jenkins mentioned to me last night that her father would be holding a large entertainment at the Abbey and especially requested my attendance.”
Xander leapt up and began to pace around the room, throwing open the draperies to the wan afternoon sun. It was worse than he could imagine. Something would have to be done and soon, before…
“Damnation! Are you trying to scald the flesh from my bones?”
Xander’s eyes widened and he snatched the drapes shut and turned to meet Lord Asheton’s annoyed countenance.
“There’s something troubling you, Xander.” He offered, “If it is about last night…”
“No, no of course not. It’s not that. It’s just that…”
Whatever explanation he would have made was stalemated by the butler’s announcement of a pair of visitors. Now that it was known that the reclusive viscount was receiving, the rest of the afternoon was spent entertaining one curious visitor after another, until the time for revelations was past.
Captain Quinn and his family were among the last to leave and Xander drew him aside under the pretense of looking over a book of nautical maps of the South Seas. The captain fixed Xander with a quizzical eye. “I know nothing more of that man than what was said last night. It’s as though he appeared from nowhere.”
Xander bit his lip in frustration. He had hoped that more information about the mysterious stranger would be forthcoming. “Thank you, Captain. This is strange news, indeed. I shall try and puzzle out more information from my lord Asheton, but he has not made mention of this cousin. I suspect…”
He had several ideas about this mysterious Irishman, several of which would not bear sharing with even such a kind gentleman as Captain Quinn. He flipped through the maps desultorily, trying to bring his emotions under control. It would not do to cause needless gossip though his own fault, but no doubt many of the visitors were also had come today to discover something more regarding the odd manners of the new visitor to Bath.
“Mr. Harris?” Asheton called from his tête-à-tête with Mrs. Quinn and young Miss Winifred, “Would you bring me the transcription of the Belinda’s farewell song from Act III, please?”
Quinn nodded to Xander and the moment was past. The rest of the hour was spent going over the music for the play and many exuberant exclamations from the ladies. The Quinn’s declined a supper invitation and continued on their way to their own accommodations for the evening.
Later, in the steamy confines of the bathing rooms, Xander decided to broach the subject of Angelus. He grit his teeth and began the questioning with a simple one, he thought.
“I hear there was someone new at the Upper Rooms last night.”
Asheton kicked the hot water into froth from his perch on the stone pedestal. “Several people in fact. I believe I saw one of the Royal Dukes, though it could have been just another gouty pensioner.”
Xander came nearer, stroking the ivory skin of William’s thighs with a tender hand, “Someone you know.”
William’s eyes grew hard and narrow, his black brows lowering like thunderclouds over a battlefield, “Leave that alone.”
Xander tried again, moving behind Asheton, wrapping his arms around the other man’s chest in a hard embrace, as the water swirled in angry whirlpools around his waist. “Don’t be angry with me, please, but…”
William was fast, whirling in Xander’s encircling arms to face his tormentor, griping him hard and dragging him into the dark reaches of the baths. With a throaty growl, he crushed Xander to him, bending his head to the side and plunging his fangs deep into the soft flesh of his throat in a near-frenzy. Xander groaned and sucked in deep, frightened breaths of the hot air, gasping out, “Will…please…”
William raised his head, lips glistening black in the darkness and pressed them to Xander’s, hard enough to split the flesh of both their lips and mixing yet more blood in a welter of passion. Finally William relented, and pulled away with a harsh gasp, still clutching Xander tightly. He stared into Xander’s brown eyes for a long moment, and then laid his silvery head on the other man’s broad chest where his heart drummed out a thundering rhythm.
“You’ve seen his portrait,” he whispered, almost unheard over the pounding of his lover’s heart. “Liam D’Angelus, my heir.”
Then it was true. The vampire heir who’d set spies about his progenitor was here, in Bath. But there was something more than mere hatred here, he knew. Something that William was hiding, and something that he was afraid of.
William insinuated his hands around his lover, stroking the hot flesh as though to reassure himself that he would not be abandoned, then sucked in a deep breath.
“You must leave Bath immediately.”
“No! I cannot…I will not leave you!”
“You must. He only suspects, now. If he knows for certain…you have no idea what he is capable of.”
“I will not leave you here alone.”
William closed his mouth in the best way possible, wrenching him backward and bending him to his will, plundering the sweet taste from his lips and savoring the last few stolen moments. Any other time, Xander would have thrown his caution to the wind and fallen into his embrace wholeheartedly. Now, though, he revolted against the very thought of deserting his magnificent devil, his dear Will.
“Please, Will, let me stay a while longer.”
His soldier’s strong arms twined about him, mesmerizing him with the power of hot blood and lust, turning his bones to jelly and his mind to malleable clay, “Until the masquerade, then. But afterward, you must go.”
They floundered in the water, splashing awhile until the play turned serious and William pressed his lover high against the water’s edge. They savored each other’s flesh for a time, kissing and nibbling until neither could bear it longer.
Near at hand, voices drew close and a small light appeared in the doorway leading toward the tepidarium.
“Someone will hear us, Will. We must stop.”
“I hear nothing but the beat of your heart, my boy.”
Previous chapters in Memories spander