"I shall see to it—and that she insist her husband bring Rockley. Nothing would please me more than to see our dear Victoria steal the heart—and purse—of the elusive Marquess of Rockley." Winifred, who had been widowed a decade earlier and was childless, had fairly adopted Victoria as her own. Betwixt Petronilla, Winifred, and, of course, Melisande, Victoria had three full-time mothers worrying about her marriage prospects.
She was more worried about whether the small crucifix she sometimes wore about her neck would be enough to deter a salacious vampire.
According to Aunt Eustacia, it would; but as Victoria had yet to come face-to-face with one of the creatures, she wasn't completely convinced. In fact, that had become her biggest source of distraction in the last days—when would she see her first vampire?
Would one simply leap out of the woodwork one evening? Or would she have some kind of warning?
A sharp rapping on the parlor door drew the tittering ladies' attention from discussions of Rockley's physique and his income. "Yes, Jimmons?" asked Melisande when the butler peered into the room.
"I am in receipt of a summons for Miss Victoria to Lady Eustacia Gardella's home. Her ladyship's carriage awaits the young miss, if she agrees to attend her aunt."
Victoria set down her teacup with a sharp clatter. More training. And a chance to ask more questions of her aunt.
"Mother," she said as she rose rather more abruptly than she'd intended. Fiddlesticks. The last thing she wished to hear was a lecture regarding the smooth, graceful movements a lady must adopt.
Especially since Aunt Eustacia's assistant, a man named Kritanu, had spent the last two weeks teaching her to move with quick, precise actions. And how to fell a man with the perfect kick. How to take an attacker by surprise by dodging and leaping in a most unladylike manner. Her mother would expire on the spot if she had seen the way Victoria had learned to strike with her arms, legs, and even her head. "I would attend Aunt Eustacia, if you will excuse me."