She looked up at him through her lashes. “I don’t think it would hurt.”
His smile made the room take on a glow, just like the lamp. He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to hers, sweetly. A shiver traveled through Genevieve, but not one of fear this time. Of delight. She reveled in the feeling of his beard against her cheek and against her palm, which she brought up to cup his jaw.
She had not realized how much she would like kissing. She had grown quite fond of it over the last week.
His hands traveled down her back and then lifted her into his lap. “This is better,” he said in a low voice.
“For what?” she asked, her voice thready.
“This.” He kissed her, his lips stroking across her own, coaxing them open. “Mmm.”
Mmm, Genevieve thought in return as he sipped at her lips, keeping the slow, drugging kisses sweet. Her toes curled in response.
Since their wedding, they had shared a bed and blood, but nothing more. Genevieve liked the closeness of falling into dreams beside him—wanted it, in fact, because he made her feel brave enough to fall into dreams where she might meet some of her worst fears, and safe enough to go into his arms upon waking. After the second such dream, Kendrick had offered to give her a knife to put under her pillow if it would make her feel more secure.
“Then I might stab you!” she had objected.
“Not unless your aim is much better than everyone else who has tried,” he had said, unconcerned.
“Oh, don’t tease!”
He never pressured her—only inquired if she was hungry at the close of the evening. He always made it a point to feed while he was out, so she could feed from him. He had said nothing more of them making their bond a real marriage. But sometimes she thought about what it might be like, like tonight when tingles traveled all the way down to her toes and to other places. She liked his strong arms about her. Liked his kisses more.
His kisses eventually relaxed her enough that the pull of the sun overhead, outside their darkened and protected bedchamber, was enough to make her drowsy once more.
“Sleepy?” he murmured in a rough voice.
“Mm-hmm.”
He blew out the lamp and slid them both under the coverlet again, her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair, careful of her neck, which still made her start if he touched it without warning.
They lay in the dark for a time before Genevieve lifted her head and asked, “Do you think having a group of vampires making lace will undercut human lacemakers?”
Silence.
“Is that what you were thinking about all this time?” he asked, sounding highly amused. “And here I thought I might have put some other thoughts in your head.”
“Well, I was worrying about it before we fell asleep. It seemed like a good way for some of the women in the Ossuary to earn a living if we provide them with the materials, like I did with Elspeth. But will we be undercutting the human market by selling less expensive lace?”
“Not if you’re inventing your own patterns. And you’re keeping humans from losing their eyesight to the lace.”
“All right. Thank you.” Genevieve relaxed and set her head back on his shoulder. After a moment, she added, “And youdidput some other thoughts in my head. I’m…contemplating.”
“Mull those thoughts over as long as you like, my heart’s gleam,” Kendrick said. She could feel him smiling against her hair. “I’m just glad to know they’re there.”
Kendrick smiled in the dark as Genevieve relaxed into sleep. Being married agreed with him more than he’d ever imagined.
Every night beforeuhta, just before sunrise, they would return to Carmine House after their long night’s work and, after assuring themselves of the household’s comfort and safety, they would go to bed. Nothing had happened in their bed yet except kissing, but every night, Genevieve fed from him before they surrendered to slumber. Kendrick did not think any other pleasure could compare to knowing his wife was safe and well-fed and happy.
Kendrick stroked his hand over her hair again. Shewashappy now that she could finally throw herself into the changes for which she had longed for years, but she also pushed herself too hard. She needed her rest.
Genevieve had taken the bit in her teeth this week, beginning a census of the vampire population, evaluating who still had an active master bond and what was the health of the relationship. Her rationale was that this would then allow them to set up committees for training young, newly turned vampires to control their urges, as well as connect makers with mentors and oversight. Dominic had volunteered to provide some names he thought would be interested in mentoring, and Elspeth had begun working with Evangeline, making notes of what she and Genevieve had had to learn on their own.
Knowing where people resided would also be crucial if portions of the Ossuary were deemed unsafe and the inhabitants would need to be rehoused. It would also allow them to take the temperature, as it was, of the vampires in London and which of them were dancing a little too close to the line of madness. Kendrick had lifted the restrictions on the comings and goings of those who resided in the Ossuary and was brainstorming with Etienne what kind of focused efforts could be enacted to bring people back.
Every evening at dusk, they woke and dressed, taking some time to meet with the human members of Carmine House—of which there were more besides just Fletcher now. Kendrick and Genevieve had gone to her friend Sally Blevins and offered her the housekeeper position at Carmine House, a paid position with rooms for herself and her children.
When Genevieve had hesitantly said that there were a few key conditions of the employment, Sally had said, “Miss Dryden—you could be holding bloomin’ orgies in the back garden, and I’d come keep house for you.”
