The Highwayman's Bite

by Brooklyn Ann

  Rhys couldn’t help but note that Renarde never clarified what her royal duties had been. Likely a spy, as D’Eon had been. But he saw no need to pry. Just like his days as a royally-sanctioned pirate, Renarde’s exploits were buried in the past.

  He looked at the clock and realized with a jolt of alarm that they’d lingered too long. “I’m sorry, but we must go now.”

  Renarde lifted her chin bravely, but Rhys could hear the pounding of her heart. She was afraid of how Blackpool would treat her. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it.

  He carried Vivian’s companion all the way to the edge of Blackpool’s territory. When he set her down, guilt knotted his stomach as he told her she’d have to walk the rest of the way.

  “Don’t look so crestfallen,” Renarde said with a smirk. “I may be ill, but I hardly think a mile’s walk should do me in. When this debacle is all over, you truly should try to live a more respectable life. I’m afraid being a villain doesn’t suit your constitution.”

  “You may be right about that.” Once his family had their home restored, Rhys had originally intended to leave England and undertake the daunting quest to find a Lord Vampire willing to legitimize him. But he’d thrown away that hope when he’d told Vivian that her uncle was a vampire. For that crime, Blackpool would hunt him to the ends of the earth and execute him.

  Renarde brought his attention back to the present. “Promise me you’ll keep Vivian safe.”

  Rhys placed his hand over his heart and bowed. “I promise.”

  Yet as he returned to the cave, where he’d be spending Lord-knew-how-long in close quarters with a tempting, spirited beauty, Rhys wondered if he could keep her safe from himself.

  AN HOUR BEFORE DAWN, Aldric was preparing to retire for the day when he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. His heart quickened with hope. Had Vivian been found? Frantic knocking assaulted the door of his study.

  “Enter,” he called, wishing he could have run to the door and flung it open. But that was unseemly for a viscount.

  “My lord!” Jeffries burst in, panting with exhaustion. “It’s the companion!” He gasped and braced his hand on the doorframe.

  Aldric’s eyes widened with alarm at the gray pallor of the elderly footman’s face. Tamping down the urge to demand the man keep talking, he gestured to the seat before his desk. “Sit down, Jeffries and catch your breath.”

  He poured his servant a glass of wine and wrestled with his impatience as Jeffries recovered from his dash up the stairs.

  “What’s this about the companion?” he asked when color returned to the footman’s face. “Do you mean Madame Renarde has returned?”

  “Yes, my lord!” Jeffries bobbed his head frantically. “I found her staggering down the drive. She’s very ill, I’m afraid. Burning with fever and suffering the most terrible cough.”

  “And my niece?” Aldric demanded. It wasn’t that he was unsympathetic to Renarde’s plight, but his hope for Vivian’s return could not be quenched.

  Jeffries shook his head. “I did not see her.”

  Aldric rose from his seat. “Take me to Madame Renarde, and then organize the servants to search the grounds.”

  They went down to the kitchen and Aldric gasped at the sight of Vivian’s companion. Renarde’s face was gray and gaunt, her eyes glazed, and her frame trembled as if she’d been overtaken by palsy.

  “Lord Thornton,” Renarde said with a crooked smile. “I have been released due to my illness.” Then she doubled over with a hoarse, racking cough.

  “And Vivian?” he asked, though he suspected the answer.

  Renarde shook her head sadly. “He will have his two hundred pounds, or die in the effort. But I assure you, Vivian is doing quite well under the circumstances.” She swayed in her seat and grasped the table for balance. “There is one other thing that I must tell you in confidence.”

  Despite the feverish glaze, Aldric sensed an urgency that couldn’t be denied. He dismissed the cook and the scullery maid.

  Once they were alone, he leaned forward. “What is it you wish to tell me?” he asked, and that’s when he smelled the answer. Beneath the stench of sweat and sickness, there was the unmistakable odor of something familiar. Something that chilled his blood.

  Madame Renarde had been in close company with a vampire. A vampire who’d known precisely who he’d stolen from when he’d taken Vivian.

  A low growl built in his throat. That was how Vivian’s captor had carried off the abduction and managed to evade Aldric’s hunt for so long.

  But what Madame Renarde said next was not the information Aldric already gathered by scent, but something far worse. “I know what you are, Lord Thornton.”

  Aldric bared his fangs. “The bloody whoreson told you?”

  The companion nodded, then exploded in another fit of coughing. Her pallid flesh whitened further aside from the crimson flags of fever on her cheeks. “Yes, and I will tell you all I know of him and where he keeps your niece if you will promise me one thing.”

  For a moment Aldric was tempted to tell the brazen companion that she was in no position to demand anything because he could simply drain the truth with her blood. However, he held back. In such a weakened state, to feed on her could kill her. Especially if the vampire that had held her and was still holding Vivian had already been feeding from Madame Renarde.

  “And what promise would that be?” he asked, with a note of warning.

  Despite Aldric’s bared fangs and menacing tone, Madame Renarde reached forward and grasped his hand. Sweat beaded on her brow and she spoke in tremulous gasps. “That... the... doctor... you summon... will be... discreet with regards to... my secret.”

  The moment Madame Renarde finished her request, her eyes rolled back in her head and she toppled forward. Aldric caught her with a muffled curse and carried her out of the kitchen. “Jeffries!” he called.

  The footman emerged from the parlor. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Fetch Doctor Rosenfield at once,” Aldric commanded. “And tell no one about this.”

  When Jeffries departed, Aldric carried Madame Renarde up to her room, silently praying that the companion’s malady was not fatal. He needed the information she had about the vampire who held Vivian captive.

  As he waited for the doctor, Aldric shuttered all the windows on the second floor and closed the curtains. Then he built a roaring fire in Madame Renarde’s room and lit several lanterns. When Doctor Rosenfield arrived shortly after sunrise, he still complained about the lack of light.

  “I am sorry, Doctor, the curtains must remain drawn.” Aldric rubbed his temples. “The sun gives me a terrible headache. I can have more lanterns brought in.”

  “That is quite all right, my lord.” Rosenfield shook his head and moved the lanterns closer. “I will examine the patient now.”

  “There is one more thing,” Aldric said quietly. “There are certain attributes about this... woman... that require discretion should you encounter them. I do hope I can trust you in this matter.”

  Doctor Rosenfield stroked his chin and regarded him with a curious glance, but he nodded. “I am always discreet.”

  Aldric examined him for signs of a lie and found none, though his evaluations sometimes proved false. “Thank you, Doctor,” he said and left the room.

  Ten minutes later, the doctor met Aldric in the corridor. “Madame Renarde is suffering from pneumonia. If the fever breaks within the next day or two, ah, she should survive, but I recommend that... she ...remain in bed for at least a fortnight. I gave her laudanum for the cough and chest pain. Watered wine and broth should do for the next couple days, along with tea, honey, and soft foods.” Doctor Rosenfield stepped closer and whispered, “She will also need a shave soon, if you wish to remain discreet about...her... ah... attributes.”

  “Of course.” If Renarde was too weak to accomplish the task, Aldric would have to attend to it. “Is she conscious?”

  Doctor Rosenfield shook his head. “She is d
elirious from fever. I was only able to rouse her long enough for her to tell me her name and where she felt pain before I gave her medicine. Then she fell unconscious again. That is a good thing, however. Sleep is the best of cures. Her heart sounds strong, and I have high hopes of a full recovery.”

  Aldric thanked the doctor and paid his fee as well as a little extra. He ground his teeth in irritation that his questioning would have to wait. As he retired to his chambers and undressed for the day sleep, the gravity of the situation weighed on his heart. Madame Renarde knew that Aldric was a vampire. Did that mean that Vivian had also discovered that fact?

  The blasted cur who took them had broken one of the principle laws of their kind: never tell humans of the existence of vampires. If the Elders found out that Vivian and Madame Renarde knew, they would order the women to be killed or Changed.

  Aldric was most certainly unwilling to kill either one of them. But the alternative wasn’t much more appealing. Renarde already felt trapped in the wrong body. Would it be fair to consign her to an eternity in that form?

  And Vivian... Aldric’s shoulders slumped in despair. His niece was supposed to have had her whole life ahead of her. A future full of sunlight, happiness, and hopefully children.

  And now the whoreson who took her had cheated her of all that.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Vivian nearly went mad from worry as she waited for Rhys to return. A multitude of fearful scenarios flitted through her imagination. Madame Renarde had died on the journey and Rhys had to bury her. They’d both been caught by her uncle and Rhys was locked in a dungeon and being tortured. Or they’d been set upon by other rival vampires.

  As the hours passed, Vivian’s gaze constantly strayed to the clock at Rhys’s bedside. How long was the journey supposed to be? She rubbed a crick in her neck from the constant turning, but couldn’t seem to stop her pointless surveillance of the ticking minute hand. Dawn drew near, she could feel it. Because Rhys and her uncle remained indoors all day, she knew the myth that the sun was fatal to vampires had to be true.

  Panic bloomed in her chest. If he didn’t return soon, would that mean Rhys had perished? Or was he simply delayed, forced to take shelter in some crypt or cellar?

  The click of the lock on the door made her jump. Then elation infused her being as Rhys strode into the cave, looking pale and exhausted.

  She slipped off her cot and dashed across the cave to meet him, grasping his hands as if to verify that he was truly here.

  “You’ve come back!” she exclaimed, and immediately felt insipid for stating the obvious. “I mean, how was the journey?”

  Rhys’s fingers, icy from the chill night air, brushed over her knuckles. “Long. We had to stop at an inn, so Madame Renarde could warm herself.” Despite the coldness of his fingers, his touch seared her. “Your companion is a very formidable person.”

  That may be so, but worry churned her stomach as she recalled Madame Renarde’s horrible, ratcheting cough and the clammy feel of her skin when she’d embraced Vivian and told her farewell. “Was she delivered back to Uncle safely?”

  “I assume so.” Rhys looked down at her with a deep frown. “I could not risk escorting her straight to the gate, but I brought her as close as I could.”

  His guilt-stricken face made her chest tighten. Vivian’s grip tightened on his hands. “She was more ill than she let on, wasn’t she?”

  Rhys met her gaze directly. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yet I made her walk to Thornton Manor all the same. I had no choice, if I were to return to you.”

  A bitter laugh escaped her. “Most men would have evaded the question and tried to reassure me with worthless platitudes to assuage my fears.”

  “You are not the sort of woman to be swayed by such men.” He eyed her with what looked like respect. “And I am not the sort of man to have the patience to dither.”

  “Thank you for that,” she said, holding his gaze. “All my life, people have danced around the truth instead of facing it with honesty. It is one of the things I detest about being a woman. People think I should be treated like a child, coddled and shielded from the harsh truths of the world.” The impulsive outburst brought a flare of heat to her face. What was it about this man—vampire—that inspired her to blurt whatever thoughts crossed her mind? She brought the matter back to the present. “I ah, am pleased to see you returned safely as well.”

  His low laughter was like warm chocolate. “Are you saying that because you didn’t want to be trapped in this cave, or because you had any concern for me?” He then pulled her into his arms, holding her so tight she could feel his heartbeat against her ear. “On second thought, do not answer. I wish to savor this warm welcome from a beautiful woman.”

  Shock reverberated through the core of Vivian’s being. Not only at the sudden embrace, but at his question. It had not occurred to her that if Rhys hadn’t returned, she would have been trapped in the cave. She’d been too consumed by worry for Madame Renarde and Rhys to have thought of herself.

  Now, in the warmth of his embrace, with their hearts pounding together, Vivian’s belly quivered with the same sense of excitement she’d experienced with his kiss. A chord of fear reverberated through her being. She’d read the old French fairytale of the beautiful woman who’d been held captive by a fearsome beast only to fall in love with him.

  Was she falling in love this beast? A vampire who fed on the blood of innocents? Such would be folly. In the story, the beast held the beauty because love would break his curse. Rhys held her for money needed to save his family. And she doubted that love or anything else would break his curse and change him back to a human.

  But oh, he felt so wonderful in her arms. So warm and safe. And the heavy thud of his heart made her suspect he felt the same.

  A thought struck her. Weren’t vampires supposed to be dead? She looked up at him. “You have a heartbeat.”

  “Yes.” His lips curved in a mirthful smile. “Contrary to myth, we vampires are not reanimated corpses. Another sort of magic grants us our powers and eternal life.”

  “Magic?” She wanted to scoff at the word, yet she couldn’t. Not with a creature from legend standing before her, holding her in his arms.

  “I do not know what else to call it.” He drew back slightly, though his grip remained on her arms. “There is something else, though.”

  “What?”

  His lips curved in an impish smirk. “Your chaperone had only just departed and already we are in an improper embrace.”

  “Oh.” She stepped back and regarded him with a frown. “But you initiated it.”

  “That I did.” He walked further into the cave and gathered wood from the pile to build up the fire. “A mistake on my part. However, I’d expected you to be afraid of me after learning that I am a monster.”

  “I know I should be.” Vivian suppressed her warring desolation at the breaking of their embrace and confusion at the emotions he’d wrought as she filled the tea kettle with water. “But you’re simply not very monstrous.”

  He looked over at her and bared his fangs. His eyes glowed like banked coals. The effect was strangely beautiful. “I could be monstrous.”

  “But you’re not.” She ignored the tilt in her belly. “You cannot hurt me because you need that money for your family’s farm. And speaking of, what monster cares enough for his loved ones to endanger himself to save them?”

  Rhys took the kettle from her with a sigh and set it on the grate. “Very well, I admit to being soft when it comes to Emily and the children. But you are mistaken about yourself. While it’s true that I will not kill or injure you, I have already hurt you.”

  “When you bit me?” She laughed even as a trill of pleasure flared through her lower body at the memory of his mouth on her neck. “Don’t be silly.”

  Rhys shook his head and took two mugs from one of his myriad shelves. “No, my bite didn’t harm you, but the knowledge that your uncle and I are vampires may destroy your future.”

/>   “What do you mean?” Vivian recalled Madame Renarde’s words when Rhys had revealed his identity. “You’ve doomed us all!”

  “It is forbidden for humans to know of the existence of vampires. We’d be hunted to extinction otherwise.” Rhys prepared the tea, avoiding her gaze. “I do not know what your uncle shall do about it when you are returned to him.”

  Dread crawled up her spine. “What is he expected to do?”

  “Typically, the human is to either be killed or Changed.”

  “Killed?” she echoed, rubbing her arms as a sudden chill swept through the cave. “You think my uncle might kill me?”

  “No.” Rhys shook his head quickly and handed her a steaming cup of tea. “I can tell that he cares for you too much to do such a thing. I assume that when you are returned to him that he will either arrange to have you Changed, or he will do like the primary Lord of London did when he married, and... bend the rules.”

  “What about Madame Renarde?” Vivian asked as a horrifying realization overtook her. “She’s a servant, and an... unconventional person. Will Uncle kill her because you told us his secret?”

  Rhys fell silent, hands cupped over his tea mug. “I have hopes that he will be able to vanquish her memory of what she’s learned.”

  “That can be done?” While the core of her being revolted at the thought of someone manipulating her friend’s mind, or her own for that matter, hope for Madame Renarde’s life being spared was more important.