Walter de Ville's Advocate

Chapter Eleven

Almost an hour later, the clock struck midnight as I walked around to thank my guests for coming, and to bid them a goodnight.

"She's so charming, Lord de Ville," a young Bianca Billington mused. "I've not seen such a sensational event held at your estate before tonight."

"Yes, you are quite a lucky man," Vince Klopstock added as he bumped into Bianca. Evie was right to assume that the drinks would be flowing freely tonight. "Evelyn Alexander is quite different than your usual lot."

"Mm," I nodded, "she is quite talented in her own style of dance, as you saw tonight, but it's her art in ceramics that will truly set her apart." I took another sip of my glass. Bianca was fairly young still, having only known the full story about her family's agreement with me for the last four years, so she still presented unease when I openly drank in front of her, but as with all of them, she would grow accustomed to it.

Emmaline's words from earlier that day stormed my mind then:

"She is not tainted like the rest of your followers. She wasn't brought up with broken morals, thinking that her life was more important than other's deaths."

While Emmaline was right to a degree, I knew that just like Bianca Billington, Evie would learn to accept it as the standard . . . especially since it was the only way she would be able to sustain herself.

Though my late wife had tried to avoid it until the urge couldn't otherwise be held off.

I would have to find a way to keep that from happening again.

"That isn't exactly what I was trying to say, my lord," Vince Klopstock chuckled, "given that Evelyn—."

"Father, I think that's enough for us tonight," Vince's son Erik jumped in, grabbing his father's arm. "Mother has been ready at the car for ten minutes now. Let's not pester Lord de Ville."

I watched as his eyes darted up to mine for a short bow, and then to his father. It was normal for the younger family members to be more openly scared of me – and I did not dare correct it – but something seemed off about this encounter.

"No, please do stay for another moment. I'm curious as to what Vince has to say about my new bride," I smiled widely. From Bianca's expression, I supposed I either still had blood on my teeth, or there was something going on that I was yet to know.

Vince Klopstock seemed to sober up in that moment, his glassy eyes blinking furiously.

"Uh, my apologies, my lord," he bowed. "I meant no offense."

I stepped forward, causing him to step back. "What offense? I've not heard anything of the sort. Perhaps you would care to illuminate me?"

He swallowed hard, and an idle fantasy crept into my mind.

"Ju—just that Evelyn isn't like the rest of us, g—given that sh—she's . . ."

"Go on," I said in a low tone.

"Well, I'm not trying to say that she's subpar . . ."

The side of my neck tightened, causing my head to twitch to the left. I could feel the beast within me trying to break free, my nails turning black as they grew.

". . . or that she is beneath us, exactly . . ."

"Then what are you trying to say?" I snapped the stem off my glass, allowing the two pieces to fall from my hand. "Because it seems like you are speaking out of turn, Vince, if not from your arse."

Bianca shrieked, staggering back. Erik trembled as he went to her, leaving his father beside himself with anguish.

This wasn't the first I'd heard of these opinions. First from my head butler, then again from Viktoria multiple times, but from those of the three families whose wealth was entirely dependent on both the contract and their subservience . . . I was stunned; then again, Alfred had felt he could speak more freely when we met earlier.