The Vampire Voss by Colleen Gleason Page B

being interrupted?
    Voss didn’t bother with a dry, bored comment this time. He merely turned and lifted an eyebrow at Corvindale, who’d stepped into the doorway. The butler stood behind him, holding a hat and cane, obviously having just given the earl entry to the Woodmore home.
    â€œAh, Voss. What a surprise to see you again. So soon.” Corvindale bared his teeth in a definite nonsmile. “I presume Miss Woodmore explained to you that today would be the last day she and her sisters were to receive callers here at Turnbull? I advised them of that earlier today, and they’re already in the process of moving to Blackmont Hall until Chas Woodmore returns.”
    Bloody blasted hell. “I cannot imagine that they would find it very comfortable there,” Voss said. “Without a woman to see to things, I can only imagine the drafts, dust and ill illumination they might find. Not to mention skeletons in the closet and—”
    â€œMirabella,” Corvindale interrupted just as blandly, “arrived yesterday morning—along with my dowager Aunt Iliana—and has been preparing for the Woodmore sisters’ arrival. I sent for her immediately after you spoke with me at White’s.” He looked at Angelica. “My sister is in raptures at the thought of having companions her own age living under the roof.”
    â€œAnd so you will be ushering not one, but three young women throughout Society this Season?” Voss made no attempt to hide his amusement. “Balls, fetes, the theater and of course Almack’s. Rides in St. James. Picnics in the country.Presentations at court. And, of course, shopping on Bond. Why, Dimitri, that will be such a departure from your normal, hermitish life. I do look forward to watching the entertainment.”
    â€œI don’t believe you’ll be close enough to observe any of the details, Voss. I’ve just come from the apartments at White’s.” This time, Dimitri’s smile was genuine. “You’ve been chosen to see Brickbank’s body back to his home. In Romania.”
    Â 
    Maia knocked a second time on the door to the earl’s study. While she waited for his response, she looked around the corridor, noticing the fine paintings and elegant statues in her temporary (she prayed) home.
    They’d been ushered here more quickly than she could have thought possible, arriving early this morning after the visit by Lord Dewhurst yesterday afternoon. Corvindale hadn’t even allowed them to pack; their clothing and maids would be arriving later today. Apparently once he’d set his mind to things, they moved very quickly.
    Blackmont Hall lived up to its name in some ways, for instead of being bathed in open-windowed light and filled with pintuck and lace pillows and frothy curtains like Turnbull was, the earl’s residence had more sober furnishings. The upholstery and wall coverings were of dark colors: midnight-blue, charcoal, wine, forest. The decor was heavy and masculine and gave a sense that its owner preferred to keep his residence without a hint of a woman’s touch.
    â€œYes. Come in,” came a very annoyed voice.
    Maia pushed the door open and, drawing in a deep breath, stepped in.
    Corvindale hadn’t bothered to look up. He was reading or studying some sort of massive ledger on his desk, and a pile of pens lay haphazardly next to him instead of in their cup. Theink blots dotting the cloth protecting the desk indicated that he habitually eschewed putting the pens in their holder. The inkwell next to him had a ring of dripped ink around it, as well as several other circles. A sheaf of papers sat neatly at the opposite corner of the desk, held in place by a smooth black stone. And there were books everywhere, on every surface, piled opened, unopened, faceup, facedown…even held to an open spot with another tome acting as a bookmark.
    â€œNo bloody need to knock twice,” he said in