by Claudy Conn
He bowed his head. “Perhaps my Queen could be a little more forthcoming with what the bloody hell she wants me to do then?”
She smiled indulgently. He was her favorite prince, her most loyal council member, and she allowed him much. “Indeed, my Prince. You may tweak matters…you may bend situations, but you may not cut the threads. Understood?”
He gave her a slight nod. It was going to be a nuisance. Such things always were. However, he knew the queen of his race had a compellingly personal stake in the outcome of this mission. Thus, he would unquestioningly do what she asked—well, perhaps not quite unquestioningly, for that was not his way, but in the end he would get the job done. He knew he should be remembering something, something about the Talbot fellow and the queen, but he couldn’t quite grasp just what it was. At any rate, he knew that the Talbot Druids were favorites of the queen, and at the moment that was all he needed to know.
“And, my Prince, try and control that propensity you have for getting involved with humans. Use the Féth Fiada whenever you can. Remain invisible…there is no need for you to speak or interact with these people. The MacCleans are one thing because of your connection to Chartelle and her family…but please do not become embroiled with these particular humans—understood?”
He thought of Destinee…broken and living with his human family, the MacCleans, and for a moment thought to argue. Humans were fascinating, and he loved interacting with them. He sighed over this edict. It would be most difficult—for how was he to protect the queen’s interests if he didn’t become involved? However, the prince nodded dutifully—though what she didn’t know, he thought, wouldn’t hurt her.
~ Two ~
JULIAN TALBOT’S BLUE eyes glittered as he guided his horse down the long drive of Reigate towards the wide, square courtyard. His thoughts rushed at one another for first place, but they didn’t stand a chance against the one overwhelming need to be with Maxine.
Brussels had been hell, and then he'd come home, only to find shortly afterwards that their victory at Waterloo had lost them so many… many of his dear friends among them.
Done, he told himself. The war was over, and business as well had been put into order. London was at his back, and Maxie’s beautiful, waiting arms were ahead.
As he pulled his horse up, a neatly dressed stable boy hurried forward to take the reins. The youth grinned broadly, showing an expanse of unhealthy looking teeth. “Aye then, oi bid ye welcome, m’lord.”
“Walk him a bit for me, lad, and have someone saddle up your mistress’s steed. With any good luck we should be out here again shortly.”
“If it’s luck ye be wantin’, well then oi be wishing it for ye, and that’s the truth of it, m’lord.”
Talbot’s eyes twinkled as he flipped the urchin a coin. A moment later he was taking the stone steps two by two to Squire Reigate’s ample front doors, where the Reigates’ long-established and formidable butler met him. In fact, Talbot still held the knocker in his kid-gloved hand as the door started to open; he grinned appreciatively.
Kettles (the staid butler) held the door open wide and displayed an acceptable hint of a smile as he informed his lordship that the squire was not at home.
Julian Talbot dropped his hat, gloves, and heavily tiered riding coat into Kettle’s waiting arms with a wink. “No? By Jove, fancy that! But then, it isn’t the squire I am here to see.”
Kettles rarely betrayed his emotions. He was extremely proud of his station in life and knew well the obligations of his position. However, he had watched his little mistress grow up, and he absolutely adored her. Thus, a smile in his faded eyes betrayed his pleasure. “Just so, m’lord. I will show you into the library, where Miss is busy about some work or—”
“Ah, but, Kettles…” declared his lordship, cutting him off, “I know the way.” With that Julian strode forward confidently towards his goal. He was a happy man with his future all before him.
She sat sprawled on the floor, heedless of her fashionable yellow gown and looking much like a hoyden. She was attempting to concentrate on the novel she had picked to read. Julian, Julian, Julian was all she could think. Where are you, Julian? You are late. Are you safe? Oh, Julian love…
Julian opened the library door quietly and watched her a moment. She was the most precious thing in his life. In a few quick, easy strides he had crossed the room’s dark Oriental rug and came to stand before her.
Maxie was flat on her belly and at first saw his legs before following this path up further to his crotch. More often than not she had been wondering just what it was going to be like to get her fingers around what was hidden there.
She said his name as she jumped to her feet, and then she screeched with delight. Her silk skirts flounced in the air as he took her up and into his arms and laughingly declared, “And now my day is finally made! Have you a warm welcome kiss for me, Maxie-girl?”
Maxine Reigate was a petite young woman with black, gleaming ringlets and twinkling green eyes. She was considered to be a refreshing beauty amongst the Haute Ton of London. However, it had been more than her beauty that had won the experienced, nearly jaded heart of Julian, Lord of Talbot.
Without a word, he found that she did indeed have a most welcoming and enthusiastic kiss for him. He was hungry all at once. He couldn’t stop himself as he had so many other times before, as decorum insisted. No, this time his tongue found its way all on its own and teased a response from her. He tasted her, letting her have a taste of him as he pressed her body closely up against himself. Damn, the wedding was too far off…
A moment later he was setting her on her feet and putting an arm between them. She pouted at him. “What, my lord, are you doing …?” She moved his hand away from her shoulder with a shrug and pressed up against him again.
“No … no…minx! This won’t do.”
“You started it…” she teased.
“Indeed…which gives me the right to put a stop to it as well!”
“Very well, so be it. Then instead, you may tell me just where you have been. I have been waiting hours and hours for you. I think myself very ill-used, my lord.” Her green eyes flashed playfully.
“Ah, if I have kept my love waiting I must be no more than a lowly cad.” He hung his head, but his eyes twinkled as he brought his glance to her reproving glare.
“Fie! Fie on you! You mock me, my buck, and I shall have none of it.” She giggled and then said, “Why, why have I been waiting all day when your letter said you would be here by noon?”
“Business, pet. The estates were in need of updating with my man…it took longer than I expected.” He glanced over at the Quarterly Review and noted that it contained a scathing review of Lord Byron. His brow went up before he looked away and added, “There are things that need to be done and put in order if we are to take that extended honeymoon of ours.” He pinched her chin. “In fact, after these last few days, you should dole out some pity on me, for I am being grossly taxed…”
She released a full-throttled giggle. “Oh, poor, dear love. Dull work, I know, and there are other more enjoyable things you could be doing…” She gave him a saucy look, and he pinched her cheek.
“Duty, beloved, and…” he whispered, his blue eyes were lit with dark sparks. He held her captive in his embrace, and his voice was husky with desire. “I must ensure the riches you are accustomed to enjoying.”
She gave him a hearty slap to his upper arm. “Rapper! As though I give a fig for such things!” She frowned then. “Duty, however, is quite another thing, isn’t it? I mean, so many people depend on you to manage their land so they can make their living. All your farmers and—”
“And kiss me again, minx…” What the hell was he doing, he asked himself. He had to get control, and yet, here he was taking her into his arms to kiss her once more.
However, this second kiss eluded him as Maxine’s mother entered the room noisily at that moment and fondly cleared her throat. “Engaged you two may be, but not, my dears
, yet married.”
His lordship laughed and took Maxie’s arm as he moved forward and bent over his future mother-in-law’s hand. “Well met, ma’am, and may I say you are looking as lovely as ever.”
“Scamp!” Mrs. Reigate smiled as she moved to the yellow winged ladies’ chair and took her position. “Now, sit and tell us your news. I will ring for coffee.”
“Dare I refuse, when I need to ask you a favor?” His lordship eyed her hopefully, and his charm filled the room.
“Ah.” Mrs. Reigate silently thought his winning smile irresistible. “What then, my lord?”
“While we still have some day left, I thought I would steal your daughter for a short while so we might enjoy a little riding jaunt through the fields.”
Mrs. Reigate knew her daughter had been itching to ride all day but had refrained from doing so while she waited for his lordship’s arrival. She smiled to herself as she looked from one to the other. They were perfect for one another. She was also cognizant of the undeniable fact that when Lord Julian Talbot had asked for Maxine’s hand in marriage a month ago, her daughter had not only made the match of the season, but of the decade! In any event, she was a doting and indulgent parent and didn’t see the harm in his request.
She smiled ruefully as she said, “Very well—a quick jaunt…home before dark.”
Maxine laughed and dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek. She was in high spirits and ran with childlike happiness for the door, blowing a kiss to Julian and exclaiming with glee, “I’ll throw on my riding habit in less than ten minutes, see if I don’t! Time me…I shall be true to my word.”
His lordship laughed out loud. He had never known a woman who could change her clothes in ten minutes. He called after her, “The wonder of it is you are a speedy little monkey. Go on then, girl, for I do mean to time you.”
Mrs. Reigate smiled and watch her daughter bounce off before she turned to ask his lordship, “What news have you of Wellington? Everyone is still crying over our terrible casualties at Waterloo. ’Tis heart-wrenching.”
“Indeed, and in such a contrast to the wild frivolity that commanded Brussels only days before the battle.” His lordship had spent two weeks in Brussels. He had only just become engaged to Maxine when the Home Office had entrusted him with a secret errand. That accomplished, he had returned to London only days before Wellington met Napoleon at Waterloo. Now, it was all so cuttingly fresh in his mind.
Mrs. Reigate reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I am sorry for your loss…I know that you and Colonel Reynolds were dear friends…”
“Thank you, yes…” It was all he could say. He and Tom had been at Eton and then at Cambridge together. Tom would have been his best man at his upcoming wedding.
It seemed only a moment or so had passed when Maxine entered the room with a gleeful, “Ta da! Less than ten minutes!”
Fiancé and mother looked at her and broke out laughing. She certainly had changed into a stunning royal blue velvet riding habit, but the matching top hat was on askew, and her jacket was not buttoned correctly. She stole his lordship’s heart all over again. She was everything he had ever wanted.
Her mother went about the business of tidying her up before his lordship took her light kid-gloved fingers to his lips and whispered, “Are you mine? Are you really mine?”
She looked up at him provocatively and replied, “Not yet, my lord…not quite yet…”
“Why you naughty minx!” He chuckled and wanted to crush her in his arms but restrained himself, as he was fully aware that her mother’s eyebrow was already up.
“Go on then…and remember I would like you back, my darlings, before dark…I don’t know what it is, but…something has had me on edge. I suppose it is just that I would like you home when the squire returns.”
* * *
She went to the large panoramic window they had installed just the year before and watched them mount their horses. She was being foolish, of course, but she couldn’t shake the notion that something felt off. It was as though something watched them from afar; the atmosphere around her daughter didn’t feel right. She felt a threat in the air, and although she swept it away, telling herself she was foolish, her better sense knew better. She had reason to trust her instincts…
However, she had nothing concrete to go on. She shook her head; she was just being fanciful. Maxie was with his lordship. A voice in her head, however, whispered that, even so, Maxie was in danger. A dark cloud hovered over her lovely child, and it was sparked by venom. Such a thought shocked her, and she hastily brushed it aside. It was all nonsense. Her mind was just playing tricks on her heart. That was all.
What else could it possibly be? Something cackled in her brain, and that awful whisper lingered in the air, telling her to take her Maxie and run …
Chased by an evil vampire who is also her father,
protected by a sexy immortal with his own agenda …
Read about Shawna’s story in Book 1 of the Shadow series,
ShadowLove—Stalkers
~ Prologue ~
A LONG, LONG time ago …
Little was known of the infamous Dracula’s mother, and during the first twenty-five years of Dracula’s somewhat normal life he knew nothing of her at all. Hers was a name no one in his father’s household was allowed to speak, and Vlad Dracula grew to manhood believing she was dead.
That was what his father had told him …
He discovered her name when he was just coming into his teens. At first, he used to whisper it on the wind—Elizabeth.
He didn’t know that she had only been sixteen and full of life, with eyes the color of fresh spring grass and hair the color of gathered honey, the day his father saw her. He didn’t know she had been an innocent approaching maturity with an enormous secret she kept well hidden from the outside world.
She kept those secrets still …
When Count Wendall Dracula came to the Highlands, locals looked away in fear, for his behavior was brutish. They were suspicious of him and recognized that he was a warrior with a ‘rough old Eastern mindset’. He rode out on his horse every morning, and on one of those mornings he saw Elizabeth.
She had been picking wildflowers for her grandfather—her parents had been killed in a wagon accident the year before, so it was just she and her grandfather. Wildflowers for the wine her grandfather was making …
The count took one look at her and decided he had to have her, cursing whatever consequences there might be. He wanted her—that was all he cared about. And in the stealth of night he managed to abduct Elizabeth MacFare from her grandfather, and her home.
During those first ten months Elizabeth’s grandfather and village friends searched for her everywhere. They had no idea who had taken her. Wendall Dracula left behind no clues.
Back in his country, the count didn’t court her, he didn’t cherish her, and he didn’t really love her. Elizabeth was a possession to him, and she despised him—all the while, planning her escape.
She became pregnant almost immediately, and when she discovered she was pregnant with twins, she enlisted the help of her young midwife and friend. Together they kept the knowledge that she was pregnant with twins a secret from the overbearing count. He only knew she was going to have his child, and for him that was enough; it was what he wanted.
She got larger during those first months of pregnancy, he lost interest, and he left her to her own devices while he pursued other women—and other entertainment. It gave her the freedom to plot out her course.
Elizabeth had made up her mind that as soon as they were born, she would take one of her twins and run …
Her plan was well thought out. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the only way she knew to save at least one of her children, and herself, and return home.
She did not fear for the child she would leave behind. She knew that although the count was a selfish, often mean-spirited, and willful man, he wanted a child with all his heart, and she believed that h
e would love his child.
Her twins were born, and her plan was put into action. The count was enamored with the one son that was put into his huge hands and had no clue he had twins. He no longer had any interest in Elizabeth, for she had served her purpose. When the midwife told him she had a difficult delivery and needed rest, he was more than willing to leave her to her sickbed as he coddled his son and cavorted with his court.
Thus, with her son hidden in her arms, she ran for the border and there bought her way home to her grandfather.
In the ‘old country’ the count poured all his time and endeavors into the hearty son Elizabeth had given him before she fled his house. He didn’t bother trying to follow her. His pride prohibited him from caring.
He had not allowed her name to be mentioned in his presence, and he told everyone that he had gotten news of her death.
His son, Vlad Dracula, gave him great joy, and as Elizabeth expected, Vlad’s childhood was a pleasant one.
As Vlad grew to manhood and took on the duties of a warrior, his father slapped shoulders of his friends and proclaimed his son’s prowess with great pride. Truly, his son was strong and capable. However, in his quiet hours he thought to himself, If only he were less gentle of nature—less good-hearted.
And then, Vlad fell in love and married a lass as beautiful of heart as she was of face. Vlad adored her, and she softened his combative nature and drew on the gentleness that was, and should have remained, his.
Vlad’s father was furious. He wanted war with other lands. He wanted to take on and destroy any that opposed war. He needed more land, more gold, and his son was being swayed against such things by his new bride.
While Vlad was away defending their territory, the count engineered the death of Vlad’s beloved bride. And so the legend began.
Vlad discovered his father’s hand in his bride’s death and responded by picking up his long sword, which he plunged deep into and through his father’s heart. His rage not assuaged, he then sliced across his father’s neck so vigorously that the count’s head, splattering blood everywhere, went flying across the room.