Emma's Dilemma

  Emma’s Dilemma,

  a Gothic Vampire Romance

  by

  Donna Hatch

  Copyright 2012 Donna Hatch

  Smashwords Edition

  ISBN: 9871301752010

  This ebook, Emma’s Dilemma, is licensed for your personal enjoyment, and to help get the word out about my books. If you want to recommend this book to your friends, please refer them to the Smashwords website where they can download their own free copies.

  Chapter 1

  London, 1816

  A bolt of nervous energy shot through Emma as the creature who once was Bennett Ashton glided with the grace of a panther into the crowded ballroom. Darkness clung to him as if the night couldn’t release one of its own. Bennett. He was here. With the same horrified fascination one watches a carriage accident, Emma held her breath, unable to tear her gaze away from him. Dear Bennett, her one love, so cruelly snatched from her by the forces of darkness and transformed into a vampire!

  Nearby musicians played their instruments with skill and passion. Guests danced, laughed, and flirted. Overhead, cherubs painted on the gilded ceiling flitted through clouds in blissful ignorance. Servants threaded through revelers with trays of champagne. All remained oblivious to Bennett’s dark new existence and their own danger. If only Emma could return to such happy ignorance.

  Wearing a tailored black superfine, the dark, new Bennett slipped between the guests, occasionally murmuring a greeting. Hundreds of candle-lit chandeliers illuminated his midnight hair. His unnaturally pale skin was almost as white as his crisp shirt and cravat.

  Emma’s heart raced, and his magnetic pull nearly propelled her toward him. She locked her legs and bit her lip. No. She must not give into temptation. He was no longer her Bennett. Regardless of her love for the man he once was, she couldn’t fall prey to this monster.

  She ran a trembling hand over her ivory silk ball gown. What to do, now?

  Standing next to Emma, Millie caught her breath and whispered, “He’s here.”

  “I know.” Emma fought back her tears and tugged on the pearls at her throat which seemed to strangle her. “My soul felt his touch the moment he entered the room.”

  Millie touched her arm, her mouth turned down in sympathy. “You’re just like Winifred in Miss Vernon and the Vampire.”

  Emma nodded. She’d identified with Winifred in that gothic novel so many ways. And yet, she’d never dreamed she’d experience the same tragic loss. If only Emma could return home, throw herself onto her bed, and weep. But she had a decision to make or lives may be lost.

  Glaring at Bennett, Millie shook her head, her ostrich feathers shaking. “He has a lot of nerve coming here like he belongs.”

  Emma made no comment. She still couldn’t believe Bennett had become a creature of darkness. Emptiness drove a ragged hole through her heart. He’d betrayed her. The man to whom she’d promised her heart four years ago had turned into something dark and horrible.

  When could it have happened? Nothing in his letters suggested he’d changed that dramatically. The early missives he’d sent after he’d arrived on the peninsula had been full of youthful expectation to crush Napoleon’s forces. Later, they’d become bleak, filled with horror at the human suffering he’d found on the battlefield. But he’d still remained the same Bennett she’d known, if only a more sober, more disillusioned version of himself.

  His letters had abruptly stopped after the one mentioning an illness. Emma’s heart turned cold as another thought hit her; the illness could actually have been a transformation from human to monster. After that letter, weeks had gone by without word. She learned from his mother that he’d returned home and was convalescing in the country. Still, he never wrote. How long did it take to turn into a vampire? Had it been painful? She choked at the image of Bennett writhing in agony.

  No. She’d remember him as she once knew him; with laughter tugging at his lips, the time they’d thrown more strawberries at each other than they’d eaten, the long walks they’d taken along the seaside, his reckless laughter as he’d finally beaten William Cavanaugh at a steeple chase. And most of all, she’d cherish the joy dancing in his eyes when, underneath a lilac tree with petals falling like snow to nestle in his black hair, they’d vowed to marry when he returned home from the war. He’d been hesitant to accept her vow, concerned that as a girl of fifteen, she might be too young to know her own heart. How noble and honorable he’d been to receive her pledge only on the condition that if her affection had changed, she was free to make another choice. Yes, this was the Bennett she would love and none other. She would live out her life as an old maid, broken-hearted and alone with only her treasured memories.

  Millie put an arm around her and gave her a brief, sideways hug. “You aren’t alone. I will stand by you, whatever you decide to do.”

  Dear, dear Millie! No truer friend ever lived. She always mourned with Emma’s woes, and rejoiced with her triumphs. Millie never accused Emma of being overly dramatic, or overly imaginative, as others had. Millie remained a steady source of support and love. What would Emma do when Millie married and had a family of her own? Emma would be truly alone, then.

  Tears filled Emma’s eyes. “Thank you for believing me. No one else thinks vampires are real. I didn’t, either, until recently.”

  “Do you think he’ll attack someone tonight?” Millie said from behind her fan.

  Chills crawled down Emma’s spine at the image of her Bennett sinking his fangs into her neck. What would she feel as they entered her flesh? The initial puncture, the pain, the helplessness as her life drained away…

  Shivering, Emma rubbed her upper arms despite the heat of the ballroom. “I’m not certain how often vampires need to feed, but I doubt he’ll do it in public. Wouldn’t want to get caught, you know.”

  “No, indeed.” Millie fidgeted with the fingers of her long evening gloves.

  In a rustle of silk, a third friend joined them. “Who doesn’t want to get caught?” Susan’s eyes—as blue as her evening gown—sparkled as if delighting in learning some juicy on dit.

  “Bennett Ashton,” Millie said mournfully.

  “Bennett Ashton?” Susan’s voice conveyed her disbelief. “I doubt very much he does anything scandalous. He’s the most perfect gentleman I’ve ever met. A trifle serious of late, but Papa says he’s the most upright man he’s ever had the pleasure to know.”

  Emma’s gaze strayed to Bennett. Playing the part of the perfect English gentleman, he bowed over the hostess’s hand. As he straightened, he awarded the lady with his blinding smile. Every nearby lady nearly swooned at the sight.

  Susan added, “Mama has set her heart on him for me.”

  “No!” Emma practically screeched. As several heads turned toward her, she ducked her head, her face flaming at her lack of decorum, and used her fan as a shield.

  Susan stared before she chuckled. “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot; you have a tendré for him, too. Why, half the women under fifty fancy themselves in love with him.”

  Emma let out her breath and squelched the jealousy that arose at the idea of other ladies throwing themselves at him. No, not jealousy. Only concern that the creature who was once Bennett might make a meal of them.

  Shaking her head, Emma softened her voice. “Oh, no, not that. I mean, he’s terribly handsome, of course, and very charming, and I admit I felt something for him years ago before he left for the war, but he’s not…well…” she looked around and dropped her voice to a whisper. Words she’d sworn she’d never utter tumbled from her mouth. “I no longer deem him a suitable husband.”

  Millie shook her head vigorously, her ostrich feathers flapping frantically like a bird about to take flight.

  Susan’s mouth dropped open.
“You’re both mad. He’s one of the most eligible bachelors of the Season.”

  “Not so eligible, by my accounting,” Emma choked.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Susan demanded. Her diamond necklace seemed to glare as sharply as her eyes.

  Glancing furtively around, Millie whispered, “We can’t tell you.”

  Susan folded her arms. “Well, why ever not?”

  Emma gritted her teeth at the superior tone Susan took. At one and twenty, Susan thought she was so much more mature and wise than Emma, but a year’s difference between them didn’t matter that much. And Susan obviously wasn’t in possession of the powers of observation Emma had developed.

  Emma fanned herself. “I have my reasons.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake.” Susan said. “Stop whispering behind your fan like a wallflower.”

  Emma folded said fan with a snap. “Very well, suffice it to say I think he’s dangerous.”

  Susan let out an unladylike snort. “You’ve been reading too many gothic novels.”

  Stung, Emma recoiled. Susan never understood her, calling her sensibilities ridiculous. But since Susan clearly didn’t possess a stitch of Emma’s passionate sensibilities, she’d never understand.

  Shoring up her courage, Emma raised her head. “I admit I do have a weakness for gothics, but that’s not what I mean. This is serious. No one is safe from him.”

  Susan’s gaze darted from Emma to Millie, her eyes narrowing. “Why?”

  Hesitating, Emma held her lower lip between her teeth. If she said anything incriminating about Bennett, she’d be disloyal to the man he once was, the man she held close in her heart. Furthermore, if she voiced her dark suspicion to anyone other than Millie—especially to Susan—she’d be mocked.

  Emma fingered her pearls with trembling fingers. “You’ll have to take my word on this matter.”

  Susan frowned. “Well, it’s clear you’ve set your cap for him, and you wish to avoid competition, so you’re stooping to spreading vague rumors about him.”

  “Susan!” Emma drew a breath. “That’s not it, I vow.”

  Sobering, Susan eyed her patiently. Then in an uncharacteristically quiet voice said, “You don’t believe that rumor about his father’s death pointing toward him, do you?”

  Emma exchanged glances with Millie, unable to speak. At first, the sudden and unexplained death of his father only days after Bennett’s arrival home had seemed an untimely tragedy. But in light of what she now knew…

  Millie spoke when Emma couldn’t. “That’s part of it, but it’s truly much, much worse.”

  “What, then?”

  Emma shook her head. “Never mind.”

  Susan’s expression softened. “Please tell me.”

  If she told Susan, Susan would laugh at Emma. If she withheld her information, and Susan ended up a victim, Emma would never forgive herself. That would be the same as helping a vampire. She would have Susan’s death on her shoulders.

  With a weary sigh, Emma beckoned, and the other two young ladies followed her into an alcove where they could speak without being overheard. “You’re not going to believe this, but…I have reason to believe he’s a…” she swallowed “…a vampire.”

  Simply voicing her fears to anyone other than Millie made the whole idea so much more terrifying, more real, more tragic. Bennett was a monster. He killed people. She’d lost him to something worse than death. It would have been better if he’d died at war than to have become this abomination. At least then she could truly mourn him.

  “A vampire?” Susan blinked, then burst into laughter.

  Millie stared at Susan as if she couldn’t fathom why Susan didn’t believe them, but Emma wasn’t surprised. At first, she couldn’t believe it herself. It was all so awful! Still, it stung to have her theory so summarily dismissed. She’d have to take matters into her own hands. Somehow.

  Emma folded her arms. “I told you that you wouldn’t believe it.”

  Susan laughed harder, before finally taking control of herself. “Oh, my, thank you. You’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, Emma, but this is the most diverting tale I’ve ever heard, even from you.”

  Emma set her mouth. “It’s not a tale.”

  That set off Susan into fresh laughter. “You cannot be in earnest. Why, vampires only exist in myth. They are not real and I cannot believe even you would believe it.” “I didn’t at first,” Emma said quietly.

  Susan wiped tears from her eyes and then let out a gasp as if she’d had an epiphany. “Let me guess; you’ve read Miss Vernon and the Vampire like half the girls in London and now you think you have your very own gothic story.”

  Emma stiffened, unwilling to admit the novel may have opened her eyes to the possibility of mythical monsters in real life. “I have proof he’s a vampire.”

  Snickering, Susan shook her head. “By all means, tell me your ‘proof’ at once.”

  “I will as soon as you stop laughing!” Emma snapped.

  This sent Susan off again. Emma tapped her toe, sorely tempted to leave the oh-so-jovial Susan in a room alone with Bennett—it would serve her right. Yet while Susan might be annoying, she was still a friend of sorts, and no one deserved to die by having one’s blood sucked out, or become one of the horrifying walking dead.

  Never mind that Emma couldn’t stand the thought of anyone locked in Bennett’s arms, even if he were merely feeding.

  Her stomach tightened. Bennett had been an officer in the cavalry, and she’d understood that in battle, he’d been forced to kill enemy soldiers, but that was for king and country. To think of him killing to feed some horrible bloodlust left her alternating between wanting to throw something or fainting on the spot. At the moment, she’d settle for some privacy so she could immerse herself in her pain and have an earth-rending cry. Emma took several deep breaths to hold back her tears. She must not lose control. Not here. Not now.

  When Susan finally quieted her mirth, she patted Emma’s arm. “Go head and tell me what you’ve seen.”

  Emma gathered in her roiling emotions and carefully composed herself. Then, after an encouraging nod from Millie, she began. “When I first saw him after his return home, it was at the Smyth-Buchanan garden party. He was paler than I’d ever seen him. At first I assumed it was because he’d been ill, but now, I know his pallor is because he is one of the walking dead.”

  “Oh, Emma, that’s ridiculous. Any number of explanations—”

  “There’s more. Then, it was so strange, but he looked at me as if he were about to devour me.”

  Susan raised a brow and her lips curved upward. “He fancies you, then. He has a grand passion for you.”

  “I thought so too—I’d actually hoped—but when he greeted me, he kissed the back of my hand and…” she paused dramatically, “his lips were as cold as ice.”

  Emma swallowed hard to keep her stomach in place. It was all too terrible and she heartily wished she didn’t know. But she had to protect herself and others; keeping silent would only put people in danger.

  “Your gloves were off?” Susan asked.

  “I’d taken them off to eat.”

  “Oh.” Susan look upward, her eyes narrowing as she seemed to remember that day. “Didn’t they serve lemon ices at that party? They can certainly make one cold.”

  “Well, yes, but he would have to have eaten the entire serving bowl to have gotten that cold.”

  Susan smiled as if she were an adult indulging the fancies of a child, and began fluffing the sleeves of her ball gown. “I’m sure there’s an explanation besides his being the walking dead. Furthermore, the garden party was during the day time. Vampires aren’t supposed to be able to tolerate sunlight.”

  “Yes, but as you recall, it was a dark and cloudy day, and the rain forced us all indoors; therefore, there was no sunlight to have harmed a vampire.”

  If the book she’d borrowed from the lending library was correct, according to myth, only the most powerful vampires could w
alk in the daytime. So, either the myths were flawed, or Bennett was more dangerous than the average vampire. She almost had to admire his unflagging competitive nature. Leave it to Bennett to insist on being the best at everything, even this.

  Susan opened her mouth but before she could speak, Millie cut her off. “There’s more.”

  After sending her dearest friend a look of gratitude for her support, Emma moistened her lips. “Mama and I called upon his mother during her ‘at home’ day. After removing our bonnets, we went to smooth our hair, but couldn’t find a mirror. There used to be large gilded one in the foyer, but it was gone. They must have removed it so visitors wouldn’t see that he has no reflection.”

  Susan waved her hand. “Perhaps it got broken. Besides, you don’t think his mother is a vampire, too?”

  “No,” said Millie, “but perhaps she’s protecting him.”

  Emma nodded. If she were agonizing over what to do about Bennett, his own mother must be positively wretched. Her mother’s love had clearly won out. Had enough humanity remained in him that he wouldn’t harm his mother? And what about his father? Had he fed on him? That would account for his father’s sudden death.

  Emma continued. “Two nights past, my parents and I were driving home from a late dinner party, and I saw him entering the graveyard.”

  His black cloak had billowed as he glided through the swirling fog, as if he weren’t quite walking. She’d longed to run to him, to throw her arms around him and vow her heart had remained constant. Yet she’d hung back, fear scraping down her spine as the last pieces of the puzzle snapped into place. He was a vampire. Beautiful and terrible. A killer. A monster.

  Emma blinked back tears and gripped her fan as if it alone kept her sane.

  Susan shook her head, her forehead creased in confusion. “So? He went to visit someone’s grave.”

  “It was the middle of the night!”

  Susan blinked. “Oh. Well, I admit that’s unusual, but he did lose his father recently.”