Genevieve pondered Kendrick as he emerged from behind the screen and reached for the book they had been reading before their rest the past few mornings. He had seen it in a shop window and bought it because he’d thought she’d like it. He was continually doing that. Giving her gifts.
She bit her lip.What would he like for Christmas?
She could not ignore that the holiday was only a week away. Regardless of how she viewed the day, surely a wife should give her husband something for the occasion. He did so much for her. Fulfilling her requests and sometimes anticipating her needs, or acting on a whim to present her with a token just because he’d thought it would bring her joy.
It all seemed—unbalanced, somehow, that she should have so much benefit from their marriage and him so little.
They still did not live together as true man and wife, though they did share a bed. Sometimes she didn’t even wake from bad dreams anymore.
What does he want?Genevieve wondered as Kendrick passed in front of the window to make sure the drapes were secured.
His words came back to her, about being on the outside of life, looking in.
He wants to come in from the cold, she thought, much struck.
How could she bring him in?
ChapterThirty-Five
“Since we’re lifting the travel ban Rupert put in place,” Kendrick told Genevieve a few days before Christmas as she sat at her vanity, “I’ve decided to deliver some of the ball invitations in person to residences in the London countryside, to allay any fears about coming.”
“Should we go together? A united front?” Genevieve asked, pausing in her hair brushing.
“I thought of that, but you and Sparrow are in the midst of your preparations helping everyone here ready themselves—that’s more important. It should only take a few evenings. Will you be all right without me?”
“Of course,” Genevieve said. “We haven’t heard a peep from Laurent or his ilk in days. When will you leave?”
“At dusk. Do you need anything? Any requests from my travels?”
She turned, shooting him a slightly exasperated glance. “You’ve already given me gifts.”
Kendrick smiled. “A husband can’t buy things for his wife?” Though what he had given her so far had been mere tokens: a pair of gloves, a hat, a soft scarf, a new book he’d thought she might enjoy. Just signs he’d been thinking about her. That he cared about her.
She rose and pulled back the covers on their bed. “I don’t need anything, truly. Will you wake me when you go?”
“I will.” Kendrick stripped off his clothes down to his smalls and got into bed beside her. She hadn’t had a nightmare for the last three nights. Kendrick dropped a kiss on Genevieve’s lips. “Good night, Wife.”
“Good night,” she whispered, laying her head on his arm.
When the sun had journeyed across the sky and begun to set, he slipped out of her embrace and rose. Dressing, he secured the invitations in the pocket of his coat and settled his sword on his back.
“Travel safe,” Genevieve murmured, still mostly asleep. “And return soon.”
Her dark hair fanned across her cheek and the pillow, the sight enchanting to him.Will you miss me, Genevieve?“Always.” He bent and kissed her forehead before he slipped out of the room.
He was telling the truth. The first night, he did go around to the vampire households around London and deliver the invitations personally, visiting with the inhabitants and assuring them of his promises to the vampire citizenry of London, if they had not yet heard of his oaths.
But the second night, he boarded at Paddington Station for the train to Oxford. In the baggage car, he pushed aside some trunks and a gentleman’s portmanteau and crossed his arms.Christmas, Kendrick thought. Christmas, and Genevieve. She did not want a Christmas ball, but a New Year’s ball she would have. He had even dashed an invitation off for Salem, though Kendrick doubted that he would come.
But what about Christmas?
Twenty years ago, Jenny was turned just before Christmas, and last year her father had died before Christmas. She had admitted that that chapter of her life did not feel closed. Her journey to Oxford in the wake of her broken blood bond had been panicked and she had returned in the grip of grief. There might have been possibilities she’d overlooked, colleagues of her father’s whom Kendrick could coax to speak, neighbors he could question. He hadn’t wanted to mention the possibility to her in case he raised her hopes.
His were already high enough.
He disembarked the train at Botley Road and stepped out into the old cathedral city that was home to pillars of knowledge and learning. He had asked Elspeth for the direction of Genevieve’s former home, as that seemed like the most logical place to begin, and she had told him the street. He wended his way through the old city that always felt strangely comfortable to him, surrounded as he was by every style of building and architecture he could remember.
Making his way to the little side street, he stared up at the cozy and comfortable house with a light glowing in the window and the sound of sleepy children’s voices behind the doors. Kendrick waited until the small voices dropped off into slumber before he knocked on the door.
