Free Seducing the Vampire by Michele Hauf Page B

next.”
    She recited them all, and when the short word beginning with h ended the list, she traced her finger beneath the letters. “Hawk.” Which wasn’t exactly what she’d wanted. “If I put an s at the end?”
    â€œIt will mean more than one.”
    â€œMy lady, there’s a visitor in the foyer,” Portia called as she entered the study. “Lord de Salignac.”
    â€œI did not expect him. He knows I do not receive on Saturdays.”
    â€œShall I send him away?”
    â€œNo, I will speak to him.” There was still half the hour for her lesson, and she did not want to send Master Rosemont home. “I’ll send him away quickly,” she said. “Write a few more words for me, please. These few will hardly keep me busy the week.”
    â€œI agree.” With a determined élan, Master Rosemont leaned over the paper.
    Flames on a wall sconce flickered as Viviane entered the sitting room.
    Constantine wore black, as usual. It was not a color aristocrats embraced, for black was the color of mourning, and of cheap wool they could only afford when they’ve nothing in their purses. Yet he wore the color as if he’d invented it. The damask coat was shot through with silver threads. In one pose the coat looked black. Yet if he tilteda shoulder or lifted a hand, it shimmered the fabric, turning it a jet silver, and then steel.
    â€œI have told you this is not a day I receive visitors.”
    â€œBut surely you’ll receive me? Is there someone else here?” Constantine peered over her shoulder. “It’s a man, isn’t it? Viviane, I asked for exclusivity.”
    â€œAnd I asked for proof of your devotion.”
    â€œThree kin have left the brood,” he stated. Straining his head over her shoulder he glanced toward the study.
    â€œIt is not what you would guess it to be.”
    â€œReally? So there is a man in the house?”
    â€œYes, but—”
    He flew into a rage so quickly Viviane was swept off balance as he brushed past her. The last thing Master Rosemont needed was a raging vampire interrupting his work. She hurried after him, but he beat her to the study, and held the writing master slammed against the wall when she arrived.
    â€œLet him go!”
    â€œI demand an explanation,” Constantine hissed at the reddened teacher. “What are you doing in Mademoiselle LaMourette’s home?”
    Viviane could but cross her arms and sigh. So the truth would be out.
    â€œHe is teaching me to read and write,” she confessed. “Now do release him.”
    â€œReading?” Constantine dropped the man, who crumpled to the floor.
    â€œYes, reading.”
    The vampire leaned over the table, inspecting her work papers. He jerked a look at her, apologetic yet tinged with a creased anger.
    â€œI believe you owe Master Rosemont an apology.”
    â€œOh, not necessary,” the frazzled teacher piped up. “I am fine.”
    â€œForgive me,” Constantine said, and Viviane was glad for his humility.
    â€œI think perhaps I should be off.” Master Rosemont gathered his leather satchel and shoved the paper across the table. “I completed the list for you, mademoiselle. Perhaps you should send for me next Saturday? I shouldn’t wish to intrude.”
    â€œNo, please, return at the usual time. I promise this embarrassing situation will not be repeated.” She delivered Constantine knives with a glance. “Will it?”
    â€œOf course not. Can I ensure your ride home, Master Rosemont?”
    â€œOh no, no. I’m off.” He bowed hastily and made a leg for the front door.
    Constantine picked up the list and inspected the words. “Hawk?”
    Feeling as though he’d raped her most precious secret, Viviane marched out of the room, hands on her hips.
    He followed close on her heels. “So you don’t know how to read?”
    â€œWhat of it?” she spat