Clair patted Jane's hand, commiserating. "But I've seen the way Asher looks at you. He wants you, all right. He's just too stubborn to act. But he will. Men like to sulk a bit. I imagine the earl will sulk a bit longer."
"If I were a man, I'd never sulk and treat my wife shabbily," Jane declared. "I'd be free to do as I please. And I'd punch Asher in the mouth."
Clair laughed.
Jane sighed. After a week of marriage, she was still a virgin. And the way things were progressing, she just might die one. Imagine, being married to one of the biggest rakes in London, being the envy of all women, and yet she slept alone, untouched and unwanted.
There were good things, however. For the first time in her life, Jane was free not to be a Van Helsing. She was free to do the things she enjoyed, to be herself and not have to tote stakes, formulate battle strategies or be around blood and gore. For the first time in her life, Jane was mostly happy. And she was falling in love. She felt excited, agitated, hurt and a little sick. Shaking her head, she wondered why people raved about the experience.
"I just know everything will turn out well. I believe when Asher comes to his senses, he will realize what a wonderful wife you will make. He will fall down on his knees and declare utter love and devotion to you," Clair confided confidently.
"I wouldn't hold my breath, Clair. I rarely even see my husband. He has quite the aversion to me," Jane said. "He didn't want a wife. And if he did have to marry, he would have much preferred someone else."
Clair shook her head regretfully. "Who? Jane, you have a beauty that shines forth from your lovely eyes, a brave heart, a good nature and a bright wit. You have a beautiful neck, the envy of any woman, and especially desirable to a vampire. And your bosom is large—larger than my own!" Sneaking a peak at her husband, Clair blushed, adding, "Believe me, the bosom being big is a big thing for men, be they mortal or immortal."
"I wouldn't know," Jane remarked despondently. She glanced down at the plump fullness of her breasts, displayed quite deliberately and prettily by her low décolletage. "But I could be the very loveliest lady and Asher wouldn't care. You know he is in love with you." Jane said the last with a hint of jealousy in her voice. She couldn't help it; she loved Clair dearly, but some small part of her resented her friend's hold on her husband. It made her feel small, but she felt it just the same.
"He thinks he is, or was. But you love many people and many things in life," Clair stated firmly. "The heart is a most wondrous organ. It is big enough to love deeply and passionately more than once in a lifetime. Asher will realize that. He has loved before me, and he will love you. I know this, Jane. I know this with all my soul."
Jane's eyes misted, and her misery lessened just a tad. She gripped Clair's hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "Yet… we have so much against us, Clair, for him to love me."
"You, my dear Jane, are well worth loving. Never let a little thing like you having been a vampire-slayer and him being a vampire spell the end. Such small things in a marriage can set it on a rocky course, but you have the power to overcome."
Jane hid her smile. Only Clair Frankenstein Huntsley would think that their problems were small things, easily overcome. "So, do you take your own advice?" she asked, her tone light. "Ian being a werewolf doesn't bother you at all?"
Clair laughed. "Of course not! It's bloody marvelous. My supernatural research has never gone so well. And never has it been so much fun. Having your own private specimen to study in the flesh… it's quite invigorating."
Jane blushed, a quick visual of what Clair meant flashing through her mind. But it was a dark visual. It was so unfair! She had been married a week and still was ignorant of what went on in the bedchamber at night.
"I've quite given up my Bunsen burners," Clair said slyly. "Ian was tired of getting singed."
Jane laughed this time, but the laughter died abruptly as she saw her husband enter a box directly across the theater. On his arm was a stunning woman with dark hair piled high upon her head. Her scarlet gown was daringly cut, revealing a large cluster of rubies and a rather impressive bosom. Jane frowned, thinking that the so-called lady looked as if she knew exactly what went on behind closed doors between a woman and a vampire.
Seeing the distress on her friend's face, Clair turned her attention to the box. "Drat! Drat! And double drat!" she exclaimed. Nudging her husband none too gently in the ribs, she indicated that he look across the crowded theatre.
"What the bloody hell is Asher doing with that wicked bitch of the west?" Ian asked.
"I thought she was being punished," Clair retorted.
"She is supposed to be locked in her coffin," Ian agreed in a bewildered tone. "I like this not."
Regaining her composure, her hands fisted in her skirts, Jane asked, "Who is she?" But she knew: The woman was an encroaching tart, and her husband was a contemptible cad.
"An old friend of Asher's," Clair answered. "Lady Montcrief." Her lack of elaboration spoke volumes.
Jane read between the lines. "You mean his old mistress."
Clair remained silent, but Ian nodded.
"She is very beautiful. And, I take it, she is one of the undead?" Jane recognized the pallor and predatory look that some vampires could not hide from her expertly trained eyes.
"Yes," Clair said, her eyes blazing. "And at one time she tried to kill Ian, Asher and myself. What the fool is doing with her now is beyond me."
Glancing in the direction of Asher's box, Jane saw her husband leaning over the voluptuous lady, staring down her gown. "He appears to be looking into her heart," she remarked, hoping her droll wit would cover the sound of her own heart breaking into a thousand pieces.
Ian gave a sharp bark of laughter, but quieted when Jane and Clair glared at him.
"He also appears to be trying to humiliate me before the tow," Jane went on coldly. And he had. She was hurt, humiliated and angry that Asher would bring his old lover to such a public place where all eyes would be upon them. Especially since he was so newly wedded.
She wanted to pull out the brunette's hair by the roots. She wanted to claw her tooth and nail. She wanted to wipe that lascivious smile off her arrogant face. She wanted to plant a fist in his.
Frowning, she looked away. Lady Montcrief and Asher made a very handsome pair. The vampiress was very beautiful. Again, jealousy raged through Jane's system, making her want to kill her opponent. It wasn't fair for the vampiress to be so lovely, while she was nothing more than plain. Where was a Van Helsing model-four when you needed one?
Breathing deeply, she fought the feelings of betrayal, anger and jealousy that made her want to screech like a fishwife and act like a true Van Helsing. But just because she was married to a monster didn't mean she had to act like one. One soulless fiend per family was more than enough.
"Perhaps I should go to Edinburgh and buy a love potion from Dr. Jekyll," Jane muttered morosely.
"All the way to Scotland for a love potion is a bit extreme—even if Henry Jekyll is quite brilliant with magic potions," Clair said. "Besides, you don't need magic potions to win Asher's love. All you need is your big heart and a lot of patience. The idiot."
Just then Asher threw back his head, laughing at something his companion said. Jane gritted her teeth. She was so furious, she could chew Neil. She wanted to scratch out his leering eyes. She wanted to lock him in his coffin for a month.
Taking another deep breath, she tried to calm herself, to recall her mother's lessons in deportment. If she were a true lady, she could pretend that nothing had happened. If she were a better Van Helsing she would go home and make good on her threats.
"Smile," Clair warned, glancing around the theatre . and noting that the members of the ton were craning their necks for a better view. They looked from this box to Asher's and back again.