Page 12 of Once Bitten, Twice Mine

She expected Valeria to cover herself, but she made no effort to right her sleeve. Caroline wasn’t sure if it was shamelessness or not. Looking up at her glassy eyes, she realized that though the woman before her seemed all right, she was still quite sick and may not realize how exposed she was. Therefore, it was her responsibility to ensure she wasn’t made uncomfortable. Being sick was vulnerable enough.

“Since you’re toiling away at your veil, I imagine your fiancé isn’t around.”

“No.” Caroline picked up her bobbins at the reminder she had work to do. “He left for London earlier today, but he doesn’t live here, so it’s safe for me to work on my wedding outfit.”

“Is he already holding the purse strings so tight that you need to make your own veil rather than buying one? I know we aren’t in London, but I’m sure there’s some store around here where you can purchase a veil. A dressmaker at the very least.”

“Our village may be small, but we have a modiste and a milliner.” They had much of what she needed there, and London wasn’t terribly far now that there was a train station less than half a day’s ride away, so if she needed a specialty retailer it wasn’t much of a hassle. “I looked at their stock and knew I could make something better.”

Lady Valeria leaned across the table to take a closer look. Her sleeve slid down further, but Caroline did her best to ignore the curve of her breast that the movement exposed. She ran her delicate hand over the lace, carefully minding the pins as she admired her work.

“You certainly know your way around lace. I suppose I can’t blame you for wanting to make your own.” She sat back down across from her, sitting in the simple wooden chair as if it was a throne. “Have you always had such deft hands? It’s a shame that I’m only learning this now”

Caroline’s eyes flicked back to her project as her cheeks burned. She had never been good at accepting compliments. She never tried to be accomplished; she only wanted to find ways to pass the time, and there was no use in doing something if you weren’t trying to do it well.

“I’ve always enjoyed working with my hands. I enjoy creating things myself, knowing that I’ve made something new in the world.”

“Creation can be satisfying, but I’ve always found it far easier to outsource such work.”

“Not all of us have such options, Lady Valeria.” Her craftiness had become particularly useful over the last few years when mending old dresses became more important.

“Don’t tell me you actually want for anything, cara. I bet it doesn’t take you long at all to have everyone wrapped around your little finger.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Please call me Valeria. Titles are too formal for what we have already gone through together.”

“I was surprised when everyone knew you as Lady Valeria. I didn’t think you had a title.”

“I don’t have a formal title, but since the Count took me in, people have referred to me with the honorific. It’s embarrassing, but you English do enjoy the distinctions of class.”

Caroline had no clue what to say to that. Though she supposed it was true after all. Her mother had mentioned similar sentiments many times over the years. It was also why she had never gone to London for a season; there was still too much gossip for her to marry up. Edgar came from a respectable family, but they weren’t part of the gentry.

“Are you lonely now that your fiancé is away?”

“He is working to secure our future. Besides, he won’t be gone long.”

Even if Edgar had been there, she would still be lonely, but that wasn’t the kind of thing one admitted to anyone, let alone her.

“What a practical answer,” she sighed, drumming her fingers against the table.

Caroline wasn’t sure how to read her expression, but something in it made her nervous in a way she couldn’t explain. Her eyes darted to the door. Something within her needed to know her way out; she didn’t need to run, but she wanted to be ready.

Valeria noticed her unease, and Caroline saw her relax. It was a strange reaction, but whatever primal instinct had thrown those impulses to Caroline also caused them to calm. She was able to sit taller as she continued her lacemaking.

“I think I have hit my limit with being out of bed. I think it is for the best that I retire now.”

“Would you like me to help you back to your room?”

“I can manage,” Valeria responded with a close-mouthed smile.

* * *

As a girl, Caroline suffered from the worst nightmares. Premonitions of monsters, death, and destruction haunted her every night. She believed she had left that all behind once she reached womanhood. Yet, here she was, a woman of twenty-four, whimpering as she thrashed about in bed while her brain conjured imaginary adversaries.

“You are feisty, aren’t you?” The voice taunted; it was too close for comfort, but it also seemed so far away. She felt like she should know who it was, but the knowledge was just beyond her grasp.

If you imagine enough monsters, they all blend.

Caroline’s braid was tugged; she turned her head away to free herself from whatever tried to grasp her and was met with a throaty chuckle. She wanted to scream and ask what it wanted, but like all of her dreams, her mouth was frozen shut with fear.

“I think you’ll be last.”