Bloody Right

by Georgia Evans

  Gryffyth wasn’t the slightest bit interested in supplications to heaven. He had his arm around her and turned her to face him. “You staked him. Just like that?”

  “Not ‘just like that.’ Alice recognized him and he grabbed for her, hissing and fangs snarling. She did something that made him reel back and I grabbed a stake and got him in the chest. Took a lot of effort to shove it in, by the way. It’s nowhere near as easy as it sounds. He stumbled around wailing and shrieking and I worried the neighbors might hear. Then Gloria grabbed another stake and got him from behind. That finished him off.”

  Andrew got the first word out. “You weren’t hurt, were you, Gloria?”

  “Not this time. Mary bore the brunt of it, that and Alice’s stay away and begone bit. That was impressive.”

  “I’ve seen it,” Peter said. “You’re right.”

  “But no one was hurt,” the sergeant said. “That’s the main thing.”

  “The kitchen was a bit of a mess,” Alice said. “Gloria really needs new lino for the bit by the sink.”

  “Now hang on a minute!” Gryffyth finally got his voice back. “You could have been hurt, killed, injured, sucked dry, bitten…” He grabbed her tighter, as he ran out of alternatives.

  “But I wasn’t.” Mary shrugged. “I was scared out of my wits but we’re safe. No harm done, apart from the damage to the kitchen and a few plates, and he’s finished.”

  “I can not believe this! You women dispose of a Vampire and act as if you were shelling peas!”

  “Better get used to it, mate,” Peter said. “They make a habit of it. They just initiated Mary into the Nemesis of Vampires club.”

  If Gryffyth got any closer to her, he’d be sitting on her lap. “What happened?”

  “Pretty much as Alice said. The chap knocked on the door. Alice recognized him, and did something that sort of threw him back. After all the talk about Vampires and you and your father equipping us with stakes, I grabbed one and that was that.”

  “What happened afterwards? After you’d finished pincushioning him, I mean?”

  That was the bit she’d rather not remember but he seemed intent on knowing every last detail. “We had a nasty, smelly mess on the floor and had to clean it up.”

  Gryffyth wasn’t sure whether to hold her close and never let her out of his sight as long as she lived, or to shake her. The latter might not go down too well and looking around the table, none of the others appeared to share his horror. Even his father, whom he’d always thought sensible and sane, seemed to be regarding Mary with a cross between admiration and delight.

  “No one hurt,” his dad said. “That’s what matters, and now, thanks to Mary and Gloria, we can all rest more easily in our beds.”

  “Not too easy on Andrew’s part, I hope,” Peter said with a dirty laugh.

  “You behave yourself,” Alice told him with an elbow in the ribs.

  “Just wishing a pal good luck.”

  “How about we cut the cake and wish them both good health?” Mrs. Burrows suggested.

  No one argued with that. After toasts and Howell Pendragon’s speech and Andrew’s rather humorous one, Andrew and Gloria cut the cake, and they all had another drink and then the pair of them stood and Gloria tossed her camellias at Mary. She inhaled the scent of the clustered flowers and met Gryffyth’s eyes. Yes, tonight should be just as she planned.

  When she looked back at Gloria, she was grinning. She might have mouthed good luck. Certainly looked like it.

  Andrew and Gloria thanked everyone for coming and then they were gone. Upstairs no doubt.

  Anticlimax descended on the room, until Mrs. Burrows started giving the staff instructions to pack up the rest of the cake. “We ought to send some up to Wharton Lacey as a thank you, and I’m sure Gloria has people she wants to send pieces to.”

  Gryffyth had never quite worked out the thing of passing around slices of wedding cake, but he was more worried about Mary than slabs of cake.

  “Think we can all pile in the car?” Peter asked, as they wandered out into the chill of twilight. “It’s a bit nippy to be hanging around for a bus.”

  “If someone doesn’t mind sitting on the floor in the back,” Alice said.

  “I will,” Mary offered. “I’ll hold the cake.”

  “I’ll hold it with you,” Gryffyth offered and glared at his father’s chuckle. “We’ve got a couple of sharp hills and bends. I don’t want to see it get squashed.”

  Quite a brilliant move, he decided after he settled beside Mary. There was plenty of space. Less would have been better. Mary held the box on her lap tightly with both hands. Just to make sure it didn’t shift. Gryffyth put his arm around her and held the cake with his free hand, or rather held her hand holding the box.

  He was perfectly content, until she rested her head on his shoulder, and he about went into orbit. Damn! He wanted her so much it hurt. Quite literally. Had she been serious about asking him over for the evening? Why not? They were almost engaged, after all. Even more to the point was her talk about swimming in Tom Longhurst’s damn pond.

  How could she? How could she not, if that was her nature?

  “I’m coming with you tonight, if you insist on going up to that dratted hammerpond.”

  “Alright,” she said. “No need to bring a bathing suit. I never bother, but it is cold afterwards.”

  He was too damn hot to worry about winter chills.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mary did her best to feign casual and relaxed as her mind whirled. He’d agreed to go up to the hammerpond. No, he’d pretty much invited himself, but right now she had a need that superseded water. Still, it had worked. He was going to latch onto her like a burr on a sheep and that was just peachy.

  She needed Gryffyth. His arm around her was very nice but she wanted more. Lots more than a nice hug and a shoulder to lean on. She wanted him naked. She wanted to be naked and damn it, it was going to happen. They’d be undisturbed until she had to get to school Monday morning.

  Should be enough time.

  “Come home with me,” she whispered.

  “I thought we’d already settled that. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

  “Good,” she replied. For now, she’d keep to herself the news that she was skipping the hammerpond. She had better ideas of how to spend a Saturday night.

  Might as well start by nestling closer and kissing his cheek.

  At least that was what she planned.

  As if anticipating her, he turned so her lips brushed his mouth. Brushed them and stayed, opening to his touch as he held the back of her head and kissed her.

  Blimey! What a kiss! His tongue stroked hers, gently at first, then with a wild insistence and sheer and delightful verve, as he pressed his mouth on hers and sent her reason into a spin. She kissed back, leaning into him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her body into his.

  Until the cake slid off her lap and landed on its side.

  “Damn,” he muttered under his breath as he scooped it up. There were a few cracks in the hard icing but it wasn’t too badly battered, aside from the little celluloid groom having a bent top hat. “Sorry,” Gryffyth said.

  “I think Gloria will forgive us,” Mary said. In exchange for full and complete details, no doubt, but Gryffyth didn’t need to know that.

  “Not too badly bashed up, I think,” he said.

  Mary wedged the cake against the side of the car. “Should be safe there,” she said. “Could we continue our conversation?” To be sure he got her meaning, she molded her body into his, or as well as she could through her winter coat and his old army greatcoat. Kissing hard and furious. Willing him to want her. To need her and to come home with her.

  Layers of clothes came between them but he took care of the top few layers, unbuttoning her coat and easing his hand inside to cup her breast. She felt every finger tip through her jumper, blouse, petticoat and bra. Damn, she even had an extra vest on too. Might keep out the cold, but
didn’t keep out his touch. What was it about Gryffyth that she responded to so intensely?

  She was in love. Had to be.

  She was half giddy with elation when he broke the kiss. “I love you, Mary LaPrioux,” he said, “and you’re not going anywhere near Tom Longhurst’s land without me.”

  She grinned. The hammerpond could wait. “Alright. If you insist.”

  Wasn’t much more to say, really. She nestled close and tried to imagine how much better she’d feel if his hand was inside her blouse. Seemed he had the same idea.

  One by one, he unbuttoned the tiny pearl buttons. He caressed the skin above her bra and she almost cried out with pleasure.

  She bit her lip to keep quiet. Before, she’d responded to him with fire in her veins. Now her whole being hurt with needing. Her heart raced and she burned for him. Inside and out. Especially inside. How much further was it to get home? Better concentrate on not ripping the trousers off him right here in the back of Alice’s car. For a few wild moments, she’d forgotten they weren’t alone.

  That, or something equally unnerving, seemed to have hit Gryffyth. He gave a sigh and looked down at her. “Not much longer,” he said. “We’re just beyond Leatherhead.”

  How could he tell? Dragon sight in the dark? Or complete familiarity with the road? He’d been here all his life and for her it had been what? Just over two weeks.

  Two weeks. Evacuation to Sheffield was a lifetime away and home, that was another world. To quell the spate of homesickness, she snuggled even closer to him. Within the circle of his arms, her head against his beating Dragon heart, for the space of a few minutes she could forget the horrors and upheaval around them.

  He’d been right about the distance. Ten, fifteen minutes later, Alice pulled up beside Gloria’s cottage.

  “Here you are.”

  “Thanks ever so, Alice.”

  “Yes, ta, Alice,” Gryffyth added, as he thoughtfully checked Mary to make sure all her buttons were done up.

  He finished just in time as Peter opened the back of the shooting break. “Need a hand down, Mary?”

  “I’ll help her,” Gryffyth said, getting out first and steadying himself, then holding her by the waist as she eased her feet to the ground.

  “All set then?” Peter asked.

  “Perfect,” Gryffyth replied. “I’ll see her safely home. Good night, everyone,” he called over the back seat. “See you later, Dad. Thanks again for the lift, Alice. ’Night, Mrs. Burrows.”

  Mary added her good-byes. Peter closed the door and climbed back into the car.

  Gryffyth took her hand and reached into his pocket for a torch. “This should get us home safely. Sorry I broke yours.”

  “We hardly need it tonight.” The moon was rising in the sky. It was a beautiful, clear night. Unfortunately clear skies meant bombing. But she was in Brytewood, not in the middle of Sheffield. “Come on in,” she said. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee. We have a packet we keep for special occasions.”

  That was interesting, Peter thought to himself as they drove away. What exactly were the odds that Gryffyth would be walking home? Pretty damn slight to verging on the highly unlikely. Couldn’t blame him, or Mary. Anyone with half an eye could see they were mutually smitten. He wondered what Gran and Sergeant Pendragon thought about it, but darn it, these days were too bloody uncertain to not grab what happiness you could.

  Not five minutes later, Alice pulled up in front of the Pendragon house.

  There was an odd pause as the engine idled and the sergeant seemed to hesitate. Then he jumped out and made his way around the car to open the passenger door. “All set, Helen?” he asked.

  “Gran,” Alice began, before sealing her lips. Peter just kept quiet.

  “Just stopping to have a drink with Howell. Don’t wait up for me.”

  While Howell Pendragon opened the gate for his fiancée, Alice sat open-mouthed. “What on earth…” she began, and shook her head.

  Wasn’t often his wife was bereft of words. Peter wished them luck. Age shouldn’t exclude anyone from grabbing happiness.

  “They had it planned,” Alice said as she let off the brake and headed the car toward home. “They must have cooked it up between them.”

  “They couldn’t have known they’d have the house to themselves, could they? Gryffyth might have gone home.”

  She gave a laugh. “Mary was hell bent and determined to take Gryffyth home with her tonight.”

  “She told you that?”

  “Yes, dear, between killing off that Vampire. I lent her a pair of red French knickers to help things along.”

  “I thought you lent a blue pair to Gloria.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Stone the crows, Alice. Do you have any knickers left for you?”

  “Better find out when we get home, hadn’t you? After all, if everyone else was getting friendly tonight we might as well too.”

  He wasn’t about to argue with that. “And we have the house to ourselves. We can make love in every room.”

  “Only the ones with beds and warmth,” she replied. “Passion only heats you up so far.”

  “Want to stop by the Pig for a nightcap?”

  She considered that a moment or two. “Better get on home. Gran might have forgotten the chickens in her ardor, but I haven’t, and it’s dark already. Don’t want to lose them to a fox.”

  “Don’t worry, Gloria’s not here tonight.”

  That earned him a jab from her elbow. “She’d never raid a henhouse. I’m certain of that but,” Alice went on, “I wonder if she does hunt when on all fours. I must ask her.”

  “Not tonight, you won’t.”

  “No?”

  “No,” he echoed. “I can offer you a much better way to spend the evening.”

  “Yes,” she replied, “I know that. I’m so glad I’m married to you, Peter.”

  The feeling was mutual. Talk about a fellow having the luck. “Marriage is in the air, it seems. Us. Now Andrew and Gloria and your gran and the sergeant.”

  “And Mary and Gryffyth, unless I’m very much mistaken. You know he asked her to marry him?”

  “Eh? She told you that too?”

  “Yes, dear, she did.”

  “They’re engaged too?”

  “Not yet, she’s making up her mind.”

  Seemed to him, she already had. He wished them both the joy he’d discovered. Damn, he wished the whole world joy.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Mary was so darn nervous, she almost dropped her key, but Gryffyth caught it in his strong hand and unlocked the door, standing back to let her in first.

  The house was freezing cold. Darn! In the rush and fuss that morning, neither she nor Gloria had thought to make up the boiler.

  “Drat. I’d offer to take your coat,” she said as they pulled the curtains over the windows, “but I think we’d better keep them on for a while.”

  “Boiler gone out?” She nodded. Brilliant start to a grand seduction. “Hand me the hod, I’ll fill it up. Where’s the coal bunker?”

  “Just to the right of the back door. First one is coke. We’re saving the good coal in case we ever want a fire in the sitting room.”

  “I’ll get it.”

  As the door closed behind him, she ran upstairs and plugged in the electric fire in her bedroom and put up the blackout curtains. Hopefully they’d be too engrossed in other things to remember it later. Yes, definitely anticipating, but why not? She didn’t think he’d come in just for a cup of coffee.

  Downstairs, a filled hod stood by the stove and, bless him, he had a bundle of kindling in his hand.

  “Hope you don’t mind, but I went looking in the shed. Thought you’d need this to get it going.”

  Nothing like a man who knew how to light a fire. “Wonderful. I’ll get some newspapers.”

  There was something deliciously, and almost worryingly, domestic about sitting side by side, twisting pages of newspaper into firelighters. Gryffyt
h knotted his after rolling up the page. She’d aways folded them over and over, making a tight plait, the same way her mother and grandmother did. His way was faster, his strong hands twisting and knotting two or three in the time it took her to fold one.

  “Heavens, you’re fast!”

  He looked up, met her eyes and gave her a wicked grin. “Not always. I can be very slow when needed.”

  When her heart settled from that flip, she smiled back. “Let’s hope this stove lights, or we’re going to freeze.” To say nothing of having to boil kettles or wash in cold water.

  “If the matches won’t take, there’s always Dragonfire.”

  “Works, does it?”

  “Always.”

  Dear heaven! How could a single word send great thrills of anticipation down her spine? “Let’s get it going then.”

  “Right you are, Miss LaPrioux.”

  And God bless him, he riddled the grate and took out the ashpan to empty it as she dropped kindling, firelighters and a few handfuls of coke into the belly of the stove. The kindling caught right away. It would take a while to warm the kitchen but at least they’d come down to a warm room and have hot water in the morning.

  She rather fancied sharing the bath with him.

  She had to boil a kettle for them both to wash off the coal dust. Standing side by side at the sink, she was utterly aware of his presence, and what she was about to do. She wanted him so desperately it was like a wild burning deep inside. Dragonfire perhaps?

  “You’re happy,” Gryffyth said.

  “Of course. I’ve just come from the wedding of my best friend here in Brytewood and now I’m with the man I love. Can’t ask for much more, can I?”

  “You love me, Mary?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” Saying it aloud gave her the jitters inside. But they were darn good jitters.

  He stepped close, stroking the side of her face with his still damp hand. “Then marry me.”

  “I’ve never said ‘no,’ Gryffyth. I just need time. It’s not the sort of thing you jump into.”

  “Why not, when you’re sure? I love you. I want to marry you. You love me. Why the hesitation?”