by Mary Balogh
“A Venator?” Caroline drew in her breath. “You are a Venator? A vampire hunter? Truly?”
“Of course. But it is not something I rush about telling people. We do keep that sort of information to ourselves for obvious reasons.”
“What sort of obvious reasons?”
He spread his hand to encompass herself, her stake and the cross. “So that we do not have untrained, inexperienced people like yourself getting in our way when we attempt to do our jobs.” Despite his words, the tone to his voice was light. “I have a confession to make now, my dear Caroline, and I hope that you will find it as amusing as I do.”
“What is that?” she asked suspiciously.
“Until you tried to stake me, it occurred to me that you might be a member of the Tutela.”
“The secret society of vampire protectors?” Caroline said. She was aghast. “Why on earth would you think that?”
And so was that the only reason he had kissed her? For some reason, she felt as though her whole world had turned dark.
He stepped closer to her again, and brushed his fingers along her chin. She allowed him to do it—after all, she’d assumed he was a vampire, and she considered that that made them even.
“Because I have been watching James Thornton—who, my dear, does happen to be a vampire—for some time now. I knew he was about to pass a very important artifact on to a member of the Tutela. All I knew was that she was a woman. After a bit of observation, I came to the conclusion that it was either you or Miss Thornton.”
“Well, it certainly isn’t me,” Caroline said, feeling more than a bit huffy for a variety of reasons she didn’t dare to examine.
“I cannot tell you how delighted I am to learn that,” Thaddeus said. And he drew her into his arms. The moonlight shone through the window, falling over her arms and bosom. “How lovely you look, dressed in the silver gilt of moon,” he said, bending to kiss her again.
Caroline found her arms moving up and around his neck as their mouths met. She tumbled into a realm of pleasure—of warmth and comfort, a delicious tingling and sleek, languorous movements. And in the back of her mind, she realized she was not being kissed because she was a member of the Tutela, but because she wasn’t a member of the Tutela, which caused her to smile against his mouth.
When she at last extricated herself from him, something that he was reluctant to allow, she looked up at him. “So do you believe that Miss Thornton is the member of the Tutela? But she is his sister.”
“Indeed. I no longer suspect her—for a variety of reasons, one of which is that I cannot endure another moment of listening to a discourse upon which ribbon goes with which slipper, and how she searched for a week for a particular hat with a—what is the word? cunning—little feather. I don’t believe she has a space in her head for anything other than such nonsense,” he said. “So she is not a member of the Tutela.”
“But if it isn’t her and it isn’t me,” Caroline said, “to whom is Mr. Thornton giving the artifact?”
“I don’t know yet. And that is the only reason I have not introduced him to the pointed end of my stake.” As if to prove his point, he slipped a wicked-looking black spindle from beneath his coat. Caroline shivered, realizing at once that he must be quite formidable as a vampire hunter.
“But perhaps we shall find out over the rest of this house party,” he said. Thaddeus offered her his arm. “Although nothing would give me greater pleasure than to remain here with you in the moonlight, sharing perhaps another kiss…or helping you to explore the abandoned wing of the castle, I suppose we must be prudent and return before we are missed.”
Caroline, suddenly feeling light of foot and heart, curled her fingers around the solid musculature of his arm. Such a difference from the softness under James’s coat sleeve. Then a thought struck her. “You knew that James was a vampire, but you allowed me to go about with him? Why, how could you allow such a thing? I might have been lured into a dark alcove and torn apart!”
Thaddeus smiled down at her and, for the first time, she realized that it wasn’t a vampiric thrall that made her heart stutter and her breath stop—it was something much more pleasant.
“I knew you were in no danger from James, at least now. He is much more cunning, to use his sister’s word, than that. It would be too obvious if he were squiring you about and you suddenly disappeared or were attacked. In fact, being the object of his affection made you as safe as you could be from him at this time.” Then his muscles flexed beneath her fingers. “At least, as safe as you could be when not under my protection. Which you will be from this moment forward, Caroline…if you will allow it. And welcome my intentions.”
Caroline realized that this was the second proposal of sorts she’d received this evening. But for some reason, this proposal made her feel billowy and warm inside, while the statement of James’s intentions had merely made her feel upset. “I believe I do welcome your intentions, Thaddeus.”
“I am quite relieved to hear it, for it has been quite a struggle for me. Either you had fallen under Thornton’s spell, or you were a member of the Tutela—and in either case, it was becoming more difficult for me to ignore your lovely button nose, that sassy smattering of freckles you try so hard to hide, your quick wit and the fascinating conversations we seem to have.”
They began to stroll back through the corridor. “And,” he added, “it appears you have the uncanny ability to identify vampires, without actually realizing you are doing so. Quite intriguing.”
“But don’t you have that same skill, as a Venator? They seemed to in the book.”
“I do, of course. It’s part of the family legacy. But for a non-Venator to have that sense, well,” he said, once more smiling at her, “it’s rather fascinating.”
Caroline bloomed warm again beneath his attention and realized why Ellen seemed so fond of her guardian. Although sharp with his words, and often rude and intense, he had a right to be when doing such a dangerous job. But he also had a more pleasant aspect to his personality, and one that she intended to see much more of.
“I shall have to return the gift Mr. Thornton gave me tonight,” she murmured, thinking to herself as they strolled along. And then she stopped suddenly. “Oh my!”
“What is it?” Thaddeus asked.
“The artifact… Oh, I am so stupid!”
He raised his brows. “Now, I have never said such a thing, even when lecturing you about going into the empty areas by yourself. Or being wooed by a vampire.”
“Is it a lion’s head?” she asked. “A pin?”
Thaddeus’s eyes narrowed and his face became serious. “Have you seen it?”
“He gave it to me. Tonight! And he told me to hide it.”
“He must know that I—or someone—is after it. Where did you put it, Caroline? Take me there immediately.”
Without giving a second thought to the idea of bringing a gentleman to her bedchamber, Caroline led him to that very place and burst into the room.
James Thornton stood there, his hands deep in her clothing trunk. He spun, and there before her eyes, his irises turned a burning red. “So!” he said, and the fangs erupted from his mouth. “Where have you hidden it? I must have it back now!”
He lunged for Caroline, who, in her excitement, had preceded Thaddeus into the room. James’s fingers closed around her arm and he yanked her toward him.
Everything happened so fast after that. Thaddeus moved, there was a flash of his arm as he leaped toward them, slamming the stake down into the vampire’s chest. James Thornton froze, his mouth open wide in shock.
The grip on Caroline’s arm released, and as she turned, James disintegrated into a puff of ash, filtering all over the room.
The smell was foul, and the dust clung to her, and, as she brushed it away with shaking fingers, Caroline realized she had seen Thaddeus do exactly the same thing that first day in the bath spa. And when she’d seen him at the theater, she’d pointed out the dust speckling his coat.
“Of course,” Thaddeus said matter-of-factly, slipping the stake back into his inner pocket. “Now where is the lion’s brooch?”
Caroline dug it from the depths of her trunk and handed it to him.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said, once more pulling her flush against his body for a long, thorough kiss. “You have made my task much easier and more enjoyable this time.”
“I am delighted to be of help,” she replied.
“Now, we had best return to the rest of the party,” he told her.
“But what will we do about James?” she asked.
Thaddeus shrugged. “There is nothing we can do. But there is no body to be found, so everyone will simply believe he disappeared.”
She slipped her hand once more around his arm. “What a fascinating life you must lead, Thaddeus.”
He looked down at her, his eyes warm and velvety. “I have a feeling, my dear Caroline, that with you involved, it’s about to get even more fascinating.”
She smiled up at him. “Well, I certainly hope so, for after this, I don’t believe I’ll be satisfied simply reading about Gothic adventures.”
“No, my dear, I shouldn’t think so.” And with that, he dropped a quick kiss onto her freckled, buttony nose and took her back to the party.
THREE MONTHS LATER, they were married.
Two months after that, with the effusive blessings of her guardian, Miss Ellen Henry wed Mr. Robbie Merrill.
And six months later, Miss Isobel Thornton found a wealthy earl to wed, and to keep her in ribbons and cunning hats and embroidered slippers.
BLOOD AND PREJUDICE
SUSAN KRINARD
Dear Reader,
I have never been a purist. I’m willing to consider all kinds of adaptations of my favorite stories, including those that are a little offbeat. I love Shakespeare plays set in modern times, and science fiction treatments of classic novels.
For me, Jane Austen’s works have an appeal that extends beyond the traditional Regency-era milieu. I’ve loved her stories for many years…particularly Pride and Prejudice, which I have enjoyed not only in the original novel form, but also in three distinct television and movie versions. Each, for me, has its own charms, though none can be considered strictly “perfect” adaptations.
So it was no stretch at all when, well before the current interest in Austen “mash-ups,” I became intrigued by the idea of combining the paranormal with Pride and Prejudice. I saw Darcy as a perfect vampire, definitely of the honorable variety, and a modern-day Lizzy as his perfect foil. I even had the perfect title: “Blood and Prejudice.”
The story came to me more quickly than any other I’d ever written. I submitted an anthology idea to my agent, which I called Bespelling Jane Austen. We collected three other terrific authors, each of whom chose a different Austen novel to “adapt,” and the anthology found a home at HQN Books.
I’ve been thrilled to be a part of Bespelling Jane Austen. I hope that readers, be they fans of Austen or paranormal or both, will enjoy this collection as much as we enjoyed writing it.
Susan Krinard
CHAPTER 1
Present Day
New Haven, Connecticut
IT IS A TRUTH UNIVERSALLY ACKNOWLEDGED, THAT every decent straight guy who isn’t dead broke, is in want of a good woman.
As my dear Grandpa Bennet used to say… Bull.
I should know. Not that I’ve been looking, mind you. My two younger sisters make up for the rest of us ten times over. But Jane…why no one has snapped her up yet is incomprehensible. Of course, no ordinary guy would deserve her. Not my sweet, adorable Jane.
I was thinking about the perfect husband for my big sister when the family gathered for Dad’s annual office birthday party at Bennet Laboratories. Dad, BL’s president and founder; Jane, head of Personnel; and Mary, assistant accountant, were already at the office. Mom had come in from my parents’ house in Branford, Kitty and Lydia from their “closet” in Manhattan, and I put up my out-to-lunch sign at Longbourn Books and walked the six blocks to BL’s modest headquarters and research facility.
Not that I’d lose many customers; Dad said it was only my natural stubbornness that kept me firmly planted in the struggling independent bookstore business. The same way he kept fighting to preserve some small bit of pride as he watched Bennet Laboratories facing a complete takeover by a company that didn’t give a damn about what he’d accomplished.
But I was thinking about Jane that early afternoon, wondering what would happen to her if BL went under. Not that she couldn’t find another job…at least so long as she stuck up for herself a little. Of course I was worried about Dad and Mom and Mary, too. I couldn’t imagine a world without BL—my world, at least. It had been at the center of my family for almost as long as I could remember.
If Dad hadn’t been so reckless with his investments, if he hadn’t taken a few too many risks in his eternal quest for new discoveries…
I tried to put BL’s problems out of my mind as I took the stairs to the second floor. The employees were standing around in nervous groups, trying to appear cheerful for Dad’s sake. Jane was beaming at everyone; even if she were nervous, she wouldn’t show it. She’d put up balloons and streamers and had laid out a feast of finger foods, sandwiches and drinks. Mary looked as if she’d much rather be at her desk buried in her account books, though that couldn’t be a very pleasant job these days.
As for Mom, she was chattering at an unfortunate lab tech who had wandered a little too close to her web. His face collapsed in pathetic gratitude when Mom saw me.
“Lizzy!” She held out her hands, grabbed mine and kissed me noisily on the cheek. “Have you heard? Mr. Bingley is coming!”
I was so surprised by her announcement that I was momentarily speechless. Mom didn’t waste any time filling the silence.
“Can you imagine?” she went on in a tone made up of one part indignation and two parts satisfaction. “Your father invited him. Mr. Bennet said that we should show that we’re not worried about the acquisition.”
“He’s right,” I said, though my thoughts were anything but calm. “So much of this depends on how you play the game. Putting up a confident front is—”
“I know that very well, Lizzy,” she said irritably. She leaned closer, as if the whole room couldn’t already hear her. “I haven’t met Mr. Bingley. You know how your father refuses to tell me anything that’s going on here…but I’ve been told that he’s a very handsome man. And extraordinarily rich.”
Trust Mom to think that was the most important thing, not the fact that BL was on the verge of going under. “What does that have to do with anything, Mom?” I asked.
“It must be obvious even to you, Lizzy. I’m counting on him marrying one of you girls. Then, if Mr. Bingley does take over, we won’t have anything to worry about!”
I’d been annoyed at Mom plenty of times in my life, but I’d learned how to hide it at a very young age. “Who did you have in mind?” I asked dryly.
“Well, Jane is the eldest, and she really ought to have first shot.”
“Did I hear my name?” Jane said, coming to join us. She smiled at Mom and at me with that unfeigned warmth I’d never been able to match.
“You’ve heard that Mr. Bingley is coming to the party?” Mom asked.
“No, I didn’t. But it seems like a good idea.”
“Why?” I asked bluntly.
“Well, he only inherited BP a few months ago. He’s never attended the negotiations himself, but I’ve heard good things about him. I’m sure he’ll want to reconsider some of his representatives’ more stringent demands when he really knows us.”
I shook my head. “Your faith in people never ceases to amaze me, Jane.”
“Oh, Izba,” she said, using the nickname she’d given me when I was a baby. “You only have to look a little harder. The good is always there.”
>
“How right you are, darling,” Mom said. “I’m sure that Mr. Bingley will be perfectly charming.”
I rolled my eyes. “Where’s Dad?”
Jane’s forehead wrinkled. “He had some last-minute call. I don’t think it was good news.”
Is it ever? I thought. But I smiled and squeezed her hand. “This is supposed to be a celebration, remember?”
She brightened. No one could keep Jane down for long. “Yes. Everything is ready. I have the champagne on ice, and—”
The absolute quiet in the room was so sudden that Jane stopped in midsentence. Mom turned around. Everyone was staring toward the door to the hallway as two men walked in, and I knew that Mr. Bingley had arrived.
Handsome. Okay, I’d give him that, though he wasn’t my type. Blond, blue-eyed, average height and smiling in a way that seemed almost as sincere as Jane on one of her happy binges. His suit was a little rumpled, as if he didn’t much care if he looked like the extremely rich president of a major pharmaceutical company.
He held my attention for about five seconds before his friend stalked in.
Now, I’m not the girly type. I don’t fall all over myself when a good-looking guy looks my way. But this time I held my breath and just stared.
Tall, dark and handsome. Check, check and check. He moved like a dancer, or maybe just a guy who was used to being noticed wherever he went. His athletic build and broad shoulders were admirably displayed in his impeccable custom-made suit, as faultlessly pressed as Bingley’s was rumpled.
And there was something else about him. Something dangerous. It radiated from him, casting everyone and everything else in shadow. When he glanced in my direction, I saw more than arrogance and self-assurance in his eyes. There was a glint to them that reminded me of a wolf strolling into a pen full of fat sheep.
Mom rushed over to Bingley and his looming shadow with a grin that would have frightened any man with brains. “Mr. Bingley! How very delightful!”