Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire Read Online Free Page A

. . . affection? . . . for one another.”
    “Now you’re being crude.”
    “No I’m not. When I get crude, you’ll know it, dear sister. Who do I look like?”
    She tilted her head, unknowingly copying Mother’s affected mannerism, but in an unaffected way. “Father, of course, but younger and not as heavy.”
    “Father’s not fat,” I protested.
    “You know what I mean. When men get older they either go to fat or put on another layer of muscle.”
    “Or both.”
    “Ugh. But not you. You’ve put on the muscle and look just like him.”
    “That’s reassuring.” We always regarded Father as being a very handsome man.
    “Peacock,” said Elizabeth, reading my face and thus my thoughts. I grinned and saluted her with my glass. It was empty, but I corrected that. The wine tasted wonderful but was shooting straight to my head.
    “Mother will burst a blood vessel if you turn up drunk in the kitchen,” my sister observed without rancor. “Or anyplace else for that matter.”
    “If I really get drunk, then I shan’t care. Would you like some?”
    “Yes,” she said decisively, and got a wineglass. “She’ll make drunkards of us all before she’s finished. I’m surprised Father isn’t . . .”
    “Father has other occupations to distract him from unpleasantries,” I said, pouring generously.
    “I wish I did,” she muttered, and drained off half her portion. “Father goes out, you have your riding and studies, but I’m expected to sit here all day and find contentment with needlework, household duties, and numbering out my prospects.”
    “Prospects?”
    Elizabeth’s mouth twisted in disgust. “After she finished going on about Cambridge, she started asking about the unmarried men in the area.”
    “Uh-oh.”
    “All of them, including old Mr. Cadwallader. He must be seventy if he’s a day.”
    “But very rich.”
    “Now who’s taking sides?”
    “Not I. I was thinking the way she would think.”
    “Please don’t.” Elizabeth groaned and finished her wine. I made to pour another, and she did not refuse it. “I hope things settle down quickly in Philadelphia so she can go back. I know that it’s wicked, wishing one’s mother away, but. . .”
    “She’s only our mother by reason of birth,” I said. “If it comes to it, Mrs. Montagu’s been a mother to us. Or even Mrs. Nooth. I wish Father had married her instead. Mrs. Montagu, that is.”
    “Then neither of us would have been ourselves, and we wouldn’t be sitting here getting drunk.”
    “It’s something to think about, isn’t it?”
    “A most wicked thought, though,” she concluded with an unrepentant grimace.
    “Yes, I’m born to be hanged for that one.”
    “God forbid,” she added.
    As one, we lifted our glasses in a silent toast to many different things. I felt pleasantly muzzy now, with my limbs heavy and glowing from inner warmth. It was too nice a feeling to dispel with the inevitable scolding that awaited me the moment I stepped into the kitchen.
    “P’haps,” I speculated, “I should leave Mother and Mrs. Nooth to their work. It would be boorish to disturb them.”
    Elizabeth instantly noted my change of mind and smiled, shaking her head in mock sadness for my lost bravado.
    “P’haps,” I continued thoughtfully, “I could just borrow a loaf of bread from one of the lads, then pick up a small cheese from the buttery. That would fill me ’til supper. Father should be home by then and Mother will have something else to be bothered about besides me.”
    “And have one of the servants blamed for the theft of the cheese?”
    “I’ll leave a note, confessing all,” I promised gravely. “Mrs. Nooth will surely forgive. . .” Then something soured inside and the game lost its charm. “Damnation, this is my own house. Why should I creep around like a thief?”
    Someone’s shoe heels clacked and clattered hollowly against the wood floor of the hall. Elizabeth and I instantly recognized a familiar step and