Part of the problem was that he was an earl. Add to that the fact that he was a creature of the night with supernatural powers. Few would interact with such a superior being.
World-weary, Asher shook his head, amazed that he had finally married after centuries of being extremely particular about who would bear his name. This was what fate had in store for him; a bizarre female who was having a one-sided conversation with an ostrich?
Below in the garden, unaware of her husband's surveillance, Jane petted Orville.
"It's a different world here," she said to the bird. "And it can be rather lonely." She glanced around at the massive gardens. "I'm glad you're here. You're a piece of home. A wonderful piece of my past. Now, we are all here together—you, Spot, Bert and me. We have a new future to make as bright and loving as we can. If only I can be strong and brave enough to storm the castle walls that hide the earl's heart. The reward would be a love that I've only dreamed of in my deepest dreams." Jane scratched Orville's beak, picturing a good life with Asher. Bringing his slippers to his coffin at night. Sharing his love and his thoughts. Laughing with him over the day's events. Waiting for him to come home from the cemetery while she worked on her bird sketches. Could she be bold enough to make such a dream come true? Could she brave the vampire's lair and survive?
Orville nudged her gently, almost knocking her over. Jane laughed, and her heart told her to reach for the stars. "I am a Van Helsing. We are used to storming walls and are rather expert on working our way into hearts. Well, in one manner of speaking," she qualified, thinking her strategy should be a little less pointed than her father's.
Finally Jane hurried away, butterflies filling her stomach. She vowed under her breath, "Tonight I will have dinner with my husband. Our very first dinner as vampire and wife."
The Prime of Miss Jane's Body
Jane hurried down the large marble staircase, her heart pounding in her chest. Her husband had agreed to have dinner with her. Smoothing back the soft wisps of hair that framed her face, she warily prepared her fortitude, uncertain what kind of greeting she would receive from the moody groom.
To say she was surprised would be an understatement. Entering the lush, massive drawing room, Jane halted abruptly. Shock made her mouth round into a perfect O. Asher was adjusting his cravat and studying his profile in a large oval mirror.
Jane gasped. Her husband was a vampire. She knew that. She had seen his fangs, felt them pressed against her neck! Yet, he had a reflection, and a very attractive reflection at that.
Observing Jane's reaction, Asher laughed—a wicked sound that sent her toes curling. "Don't believe everything you hear or read about us," he said, guessing her shock.
He couldn't help but be pleased by the surprise he saw on her face. He had decided to put his short wife on her toes tonight and try to discover any hidden agenda she might have, such as early widowhood. He knew it wouldn't be easy, since the Van Helsings were a tricky lot. As treachery was their family middle name, Asher well knew that getting info out of a Van Helsing wife would be a slow dance, with steps cunning and cagey; he'd have to keep her off balance with wit and charm. But the end result would be Jane as butter in his hands, and he would get her pathetic plans down pat.
Staring at her husband in bewilderment, Jane blurted, "But… I can see you in the mirror. How can this be? Vampires don't have reflections. I learned that in vampire class."
Asher smiled wickedly, engaged in a deadly deception with his deceitful companion. Tonight his deft illusions in this daring encounter with the damnable stranger who was now his wife must be done with decided charm if he didn't want to be dead and buried. And he had no death wish.
"You can see you in the mirror. Everyone can't be wrong," Jane said, her brows furrowed.
"Yes, they can. And glad I am. What a waste it would be to miss this" he replied, gesturing vaguely at the face staring back at him in the gilt-framed mirror. Elegantly he turned, a small sardonic smile on his face. "What a tragedy that would be, if I couldn't see my own smiling face each sunset when I awake. How would I know if I'm getting gray hairs, or if my cravat is crooked?"
Jane smiled, her stunned reaction fading. Her husband seemed approachable tonight, even teasing her. She liked this lighter mood much better than his usual caustic self. "And how old are you? Did you help Noah with the ark?" she joked.
"You knew I was old when you married me," he replied.
"Ah, but not bow old."
"That's a question you never ask a vampire," Asher said, making a dismissive gesture with his hands.
Jane retreated, not wanting to spoil the mood. "Then let me ask you what it's like to live forever," she said curiously. She really wanted to know. "Did you know Henry the Eighth? What was Anne Boleyn like? Did she often lose her head? Did you ever get to see a Shakespeare play in person, with the playwright in the same theatre? How exciting, to not only be able to read history, but to have lived it."
He shrugged, his expression enigmatic. "Eternity can be very long. 'Men may come and men may go, but I go on forever,'" he quoted.
"Tennyson?" Jane asked, thinking she recognized the words from a volume of poetry she had kept upon her bookshelves back home. Her husband nodded, and she could see a faint hint of approval in his eyes.
"It seems I have married a bluestocking."
"I strive to be well-read and well learned. The Van Helsing heritage, you know. Learn everything." Jane left unsaid that her ancestors believed in knowing everything about their enemies. Although she didn't think any had ever gone as far as marrying one.
"Lessons which no doubt included the killing of my race," Asher said. He couldn't seem to resist getting in a jab at her heritage, despite his plan to ferret out her deadly agenda by being witty and charming.
Jane's lighter mood dissolved. "I learned many things, my husband." Seeing a hint of disgust in his eyes, Jane tried again to reach him with words. "It is not easy being a Van Helsing, a protector of humanity. When you are a Van Helsing, the dark at the top of every staircase could be a vampire or demon hiding there to kill you. Our journeys are dark, our victories darker. Of course, we work at night," she admitted.
Asher's face remained coldly detached—a death mask, Jane thought. But why wouldn't it? He was one of the walking dead.
"You murder my species," he accused.
"Your species eat my people," Jane argued calmly, without wholesale condemnation.
"You Van Helsings judge without a trial," Asher continued.
"And you, my lord, have a hard head to match your stubborn heart."
"The better to withstand you, my dear little wife." Asher found himself speaking curtly as he stared at Jane's luscious chest. He was again envisioning his unwanted wife opening her thighs, beckoning him to have a taste. Would she have freckles on the flesh there? He would kiss them, savoring the sweet flavor.
Blinking rapidly, he realized where his thoughts were leading him: down the garden path to a dirty grave! "You Van Helsings are a menace to every blue-blooded Nosferatu around. Your ancestors have decimated whole families of us. We have learned our lessons well about you and yours. A Van Helsing does his duty through rain, sleet, snow, and the fires of hell."
"And you don't think we Van Helsings have learned lessons from you as well? We die too! Each death a hard lesson. You don't think my ancestors have suffered?" Jane pointed a finger at him. "During the French Revolution, my aunt lost her head over Count Langella and ended up as his top-off of the day. That drained the family bloodline, I can tell you. My great-greatgrandfather went up in smoke when he tried to dispatch one of Lucifer's fallen angels. He forgot to give the Devil his due!"