Gareth’s brow rose in surprise. “An odd request, sir. Why not just have your men hold me down and take it from me?”
“Let’s just say, I feared it might get tainted. And I need it pure.”
“Indeed? And why—”
Millicent lurched forward, and Gareth bent down and caught her in his arms. A light sheen of sweat covered her brow, and a low moan escaped from her clenched teeth. “Don’t give him what he wants,” she gasped. “No good will come of it.”
“Do you truly think I would allow you to die?”
She groaned, hunching so far over that he guided her to the floor, kneeling next to her puddle of golden skirts, his hands on her shoulders the only thing holding her upright.
“It’s better than what the duke has planned, I’m sure.” Millicent sucked in a breath. “Don’t let him manipulate you, Gar—” The rest of her words turned into a scream as her body twisted, flinging her backward against the marble floor, only Gareth’s hands cushioning her head from the stone.
“Nell!”
But the old woman already knelt at his side, her red hair appearing to ripple like fire. He nodded, and she cradled Millicent’s head to her thin chest, stroking the rest of the twists out of the coiffure Gareth had so artfully arranged, while Millicent continued to scream. And scream.
The duke raised his voice. “It seems I did not misjudge the knight’s honor, were-cat. Of course he must rescue a damsel in distress, whether he cares for her or not. Perhaps you cannot understand it, but a gentleman such as myself recognizes the sentiment… although I’ve never had much call for it myself.”
Gareth rose to his feet.
Selena stood at the duke’s side, watching Millicent’s contortions with a grin of satisfaction. “I don’t think she can hear you, Your Grace.”
Rage swelled within Gareth, and he did not know where he found the strength to pull his sword without running both of them through. But instead, he swept the blade across his wrist and held out his bloody arm.
Selena licked her lips and darted forward. The duke reached out and grabbed her skirts, hauling her backward.
“Damn were-bats can never control their instincts. Guards, hold her.” He rose, shoving the girl at his men. “I will have to do this myself.” He picked up a golden goblet off the table and held it out, staring at the blood dripping from Gareth’s wrist as if it were gold.
Gareth dropped his arm. “Give my lady the antidote first.”
The Duke of Ghoulston did not argue. He strode to the sideboard and opened a small drawer, held forth a vial of black liquid. Gareth snatched it and brought it over to Millicent, his blood staining the golden velvet of her gown while he forced it past her taut lips. She swallowed once, twice, and then her body stilled.
He rose and faced the other man. He had no choice but to trust him, and it rankled. “She will recover?”
The duke nodded. “Hurry up. If I have calculated the sunrise aboveground correctly, we have only a few minutes left.”
Gareth held his arm over the goblet and watched it fill with his blood. Then he felt the tug at his soul, the call to return to the relic. His sight began to fade as he turned and glanced back at Millicent. She lay so very still now, her chest hardly rising and falling. If the duke had lied… if she died while he was trapped within the relic…
He could not leave her like this. He would not! The relic could not take him…
Nine
Millicent woke in the red bedroom once again, every muscle in her body aching. She opened her eyes. Bloody hell. They ached too. She sat up with a groan, glanced around the room, the fuzzy memory of her dinner with the duke slowly coming back to her. Someone had stripped off her golden gown, and it sat on a velvet wing chair, crimson blood still staining the skirts.
Gareth. Nell.
She crawled out of the bed, stood on shaky legs, and forced them to take her across the room. By the time she opened the door and walked into the parlor, her muscles had loosened enough to almost make her drop with relief at the sight that awaited her.
Gareth lounged on a low armless sofa, his wavy blond hair falling across his sculpted cheekbones, his sexy mouth curled in a smile as he played some sort of card game with Nell. The old woman had a pile of buttons in front of her, apparently gathered from several of the cushions in the room, and cackled as she hauled another pile of them toward her.
“Ye’ve got no luck with the cards,” chided Nell with barely stifled glee. “Let’s have another round, shall we?”
But Gareth turned his head, his brilliant blue eyes suddenly fixing on Millicent, and he did not answer. His gaze held her transfixed, for she saw so much in his eyes that she wanted to weep, or scream, or fall into his arms. No one had ever looked at her like that before. As if she were the most precious thing on earth.
Then his lids lowered, and those blue eyes darkened as his gaze roamed her body. Millicent realized she wore nothing but chemise, petticoat, and a rather loose corset. But she could not imagine donning the gold gown with his blood staining it. Besides, he had already seen her without a stitch on. She should not feel this self-conscious.
“Ach,” said Nell, turning to follow his gaze, oblivious to the tension in the room, “ye are awake. How do ye feel? Are ye hungry?”
Millicent could only nod weakly.
Nell muttered while she slowly rose and hobbled over to the sideboard, and slapped cold meat and cheese onto a silver plate. “Bloody duke and his evil schemes. If I were only a few years younger, I could have flamed the hair right off his bushy brows, I could. But the shape-shifting don’t come as easily to me anymore, ye know. My bird likes to surprise me…”
While the old woman rattled on and arranged a setting near their cards on the table, Gareth continued to watch Millicent in silence. She felt his affection and desire curl around her like a warm blanket. He had tempted her before, with his blatant sexuality and compelling charisma. But now that it had been combined with the reality of their lovemaking, Millicent did not know how she would manage to stay in such close quarters with him and keep her composure.
The beast lurking inside her made it even more difficult. The urge to claim him as her mate again made shivers run through her.
She gritted her teeth and sat on a pile of cushions in front of the low table. Her stomach growled, and she began to eat the feast Nell had prepared. Thankfully, the food managed to soothe her cat.
“You are well, my lady?” murmured Gareth.
He had abandoned Nell on the sofa, and settled himself on a cushion next to her. She had been acutely aware of his every move, while trying to pretend otherwise. Again, she could only nod.
“It’s cold,” said Nell, lowering her old bones onto the sofa with a pop and crackle. “The dinner, that is. The vamp brought it just before Gareth came forth from the relic. She brought some more gowns, as well, but nothing that would fit me. She seemed in an awful hurry to avoid ye, Sir Knight. Per’aps she’s afraid she won’t be able to resist ye?”
Millicent felt Gareth shrug. Bloody hell, she could feel his body heat next to her, smell the clean scent of his skin. She could not blame Selena. The man was simply irresistible.
“See what we found, Millie? A faro box! How abouts another game while she eats, Gareth?” Nell rubbed her hands together in anticipation.
“Of course, my lady. Whatever you wish.”
Millicent kept her head lowered, her eyes on her plate, trying to hide another surge of emotion that went through her. Gareth treated Nell so gently. So kindly. As if she were a queen, and not an old woman dressed in rags who had spent most of her existence being disdained by those around her. He made Millicent feel… unworthy, somehow, all that goodness and honor such a contrast to her own inner darkness. No wonder she could not release him from the spell. A love like hers held little consequence in the grand scheme of his world.