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The Highwayman's Bite

Page 23

by Brooklyn Ann


  He rubbed the bridge of his nose and fetched two brandy snifters. “Forgive me, but there was so much else going on that such a trifle matter didn’t cross my mind.” He poured an inch of amber liquid in each glass and slid one across the desk to her. “How did you learn about it?”

  “Emily Horne told me when I went there to see her.” Vivian crossed her arms over her chest, despising him for his obvious lie. He had to have thought of the farm as he’d recently taken possession of it. “And I hardly think that forcing a woman and her children out of their home is a trifle matter.”

  “Damn it!” Aldric tossed back his drink. “I told you that you were not to leave the house without me.”

  Vivian ignored the outburst. “How is the place to become my dowry when Mrs. Horne was supposed to be able to pay the mortgage with the ransom money?”

  “She wasn’t able to pay.” Aldric said through clenched teeth. His fangs glistened in the light of the lantern. “I caught the rogue on his way to the farm and arrested him three nights ago.”

  Her heart thudded with dread. “Where is he?”

  Aldric’s voice was cold as a winter grave. “Did Rhys not tell you the fate of rogues when they are captured?”

  Vivian gripped the edges of the desk as white spots danced in her vision. Rhys was dead. Her uncle had killed him. Memories of his smile, his embrace, the tender way he’d said, “I love you,” flooded her mind. And now he was gone? Her knees threatened to buckle, but she willed herself to remain standing.

  “How could you?” she whispered through numb lips.

  “I’m sorry, but the law is clear.” Aldric reached for her hand and frowned as Vivian pulled away. “I cannot allow a rogue to go unpunished and expect to retain loyalty from my people.”

  “But did you have to kill him?” she pleaded, as if he could magically take it back. “He was only trying to care for his family as you are caring for me.”

  For a moment, something in Aldric’s eyes flickered, as if there had been another option, one he didn’t wish to explore. Then his expression shuttered. “Something that set me and him at cross purposes. And continuing to care for you is all I can do.” He moved as if to try to reach for her again, then his shoulders slumped, and he pushed her untouched brandy glass towards her. “I know that losing a love is an excruciatingly painful event. I know that you probably despise me right now. But we must get on with our lives, and if there is anything I can do...”

  “There is nothing you can do to atone for what you’ve done to me.” Vivian took the glass and quaffed the brandy, coughing as the fiery liquid slid down her throat. Then she remembered her purpose for talking to him before he’d shattered her world. “Although one thing might help. Give me the deed to the Berwyn Farm.”

  “Why do you want the land?” Aldric cocked his head to the side. “You cannot marry anymore, not after becoming involved with our kind.”

  “So I can return it to Emily, of course.” Vivian fumed. How could he be so obtuse? “That way, Rhys’s death won’t be in vain.”

  “You speak of him as if he was a hero, rather than a criminal who sought to steal my money and cheat me out of land that was by rights to go to me.” Aldric leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “And what do you suppose this poor widow will be able to do once her land is restored? You saw the farm. The land has gone fallow for lack of a plow, and the buildings are falling down over her ears. She has no hope of restoring the place. You think I am the villain for taking it from her, but I am not. I would rather see someone bring the farm back to its former prosperity, and allow her to remain with gainful employment so she may feed and shelter her children.”

  He had a point, Vivian admitted ruefully. Still, it didn’t mean the situation was right. “Then let me be the one to restore the place. I will need somewhere else to live anyway.”

  Aldric opened his eyes and stared at her. “And why is that?”

  “Because I hate you for what you’ve done.” Vivian spoke slowly, imbuing each word with palpable animosity. “And I cannot abide one more night under your roof.”

  Aldric flinched, but then his eyes went cold. “I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter. For one thing, you are privy to our secrets and thus must remain with me. For another, a new vampire has extreme difficulty controlling their hunger. Do you wish to risk accidentally killing Mrs. Horne or one of the children?”

  “No.” Vivian shook her head with dawning horror. She wanted to save Rhys’s family, not hurt them.

  “I thought not.” Aldric rose from his desk and approached the cabinet containing the locked boxes that Vivian and Madame Renarde had broken into earlier in the day. “I am afraid you will have to endure being under my roof for a while longer. As for the Berwyn Farm, there is something I can and have already done.”

  He unlocked one of the boxes and withdrew a sheet from a stack of documents that Vivian and Madame Renarde had not examined. “This was not only a dowry, but also a trust. If you do not marry before the age of twenty-five, the farm will be yours rather than passed to your husband. Since you no longer can marry, you may take over the farm in two years. By then you will have learned to control your hunger and will no longer require my constant supervision.” He handed her the document. “After that, you can do as you please with the place, even sign it back to the Mrs. Horne.”

  “And what is Emily to do until then?” Vivian asked.

  Aldric shrugged. “With her being foreclosed, she no longer owes mortgage payments, so what little income she has from the farm can be used to feed her children. And if you wish to use your pin money to aid her cause, I cannot stop you.”

  Relief that she would be able to fulfill her vow and care for Rhys’s family melted the edges of Vivian’s animosity. But she could not forgive her uncle for killing Rhys. “Thank you for displaying at least a scrap of humanity.”

  “I’ll accept that grudging praise.” Aldric sighed. “We will inform Mrs. Horne of her new circumstances tomorrow night. And I will write a petition to the Elders to Change you.”

  Vivian was tempted to ask about these Elders that Rhys had been so reluctant to talk about, but her grief and anger choked off the inquiry. She couldn’t bear to be in the same room with the man who’d murdered her love. At least she’d ensured the safety of Rhys’s family.

  With a curt nod, she left the study and fled to her room. Tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe that Rhys was dead. Even though he’d had to leave her, she’d clung to the small comfort that he was out there somehow, thinking of her. Now even that had been ripped away.

  Vivian pressed her fist to her mouth to muffle her strangled sobs. Strange, she’d never been one to give into tears before, but now that her heart had been reduced to a ragged hole, she could do little else.

  Her door opened, and Vivian lifted her head to curse her uncle, but relaxed as she saw Madame Renarde.

  “He isn’t dead,” her companion whispered.

  Vivian’s breath froze in her lungs. “What?”

  “Lord Thornton has Rhys imprisoned in the cellar behind the house.” Madame Renarde crossed the room and sat on Vivian’s bed. “From what I’ve observed, he’s still alive. He even fed him night before last.”

  Vivian leapt from her bed. “Then we must free him at once!”

  Madame Renarde nodded. “Yes, and quickly, while your uncle is out hunting for his meal.”

  “Wait.” Vivian froze with her hand on the door handle. “I thought Uncle erased your memory.”

  “He tried, and for my own self-preservation, I allowed him to believe his magic worked.” Madame Renarde said with a smirk. “While I do not think he has the stomach to do away with me, it is best to err on the side of caution.”

  Even though Vivian quivered with the need to go to Rhys, she held back. “But if Uncle Aldric finds out that you helped me free Rhys, he’ll know of your ruse, and you’ll be at risk.”

  “I cannot sit idle and watch you drown in heartache. I�
�d at first believed that you merely suffered from a childish infatuation with Rhys, and I was gravely wrong.” Madame Renarde took her hands. “Especially since it was my fault that Rhys was captured in the first place. My fever and the laudanum I was given for my cough loosened my tongue and I told Lord Thornton why Rhys wanted the ransom money. I won’t have his death on my hands, if I can help it.”

  Vivian threw her arms around her friend. “I love you, Jeanette! No one has ever been blessed with such a good friend as you.”

  As they rushed down the stairs together, Vivian’s heart bloomed with hope as she clutched her dowry settlement. She would see her love in moments, save his life, and god willing, they could be together at last.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Rhys recoiled in dread at the sound of the cellar being unlocked. But when the door opened, a most welcome scent filled the dungeon.

  “Vivian?” His voice cracked with hope.

  “Rhys!” She ran down the stairs and thrust her arms through the bars. Tears glistened in her grey eyes. “I thought Uncle Aldric had killed you.”

  He took her hands and placed kisses all over her wrists and palms. Honestly, he did not know why Aldric hadn’t killed him yet. After Rhys had admitted guilt to all the crimes the Lord Vampire charged him with, Lord Thornton had struck him with the butt of the gun and walked out of the dungeon. The next night, Thornton had unlocked his manacles, released a live pig in the cell, and walked back out without a word.

  Last night, Lord Thornton had removed the pig’s carcass and brandished Rhys’s application for citizenship, questioning him about the character flaws and disobedience outlined in the letter that John had included. A letter that was supposed to have been a recommendation rather than condemnation.

  Rhys had explained his relationship with the vampire who’d made him, utterly perplexed as to why Aldric cared. But the moment Rhys asked about Vivian, Lord Thornton struck him with a backhanded slap and stormed out of his cell. There was no pig that night. Rhys had to make do with a rat that came into his cell.

  Aldric had to be torturing him. That was the only explanation. To be so close to Vivian, yet never able to see or touch her again had tormented him to near madness.

  Now, Vivian stood before him, and despite his ravening hunger, the temptation to kiss her was much stronger than that to bite her.

  Madame Renarde tapped Vivian’s shoulder. “Move aside so I can deal with this lock.”

  “I visited Emily,” Vivian said as her companion set to work.

  Rhys’s chest tightened at the mention of his niece. “How is she?”

  “Worried sick about you, just as I was. Uncle foreclosed on her last week.” Before Rhys could react to that dismal news, Vivian withdrew a sheet of parchment from the pocket of her cloak. “I also discovered that he’d given me the farm as my dowry, but placed in a trust so that if I do not marry, the land will become mine on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

  His jaw dropped. “You own the land?”

  Vivian nodded. “And then you will own it after we’re married.”

  “Married?” A parade of fanciful visions of waking up beside her every evening, sharing a house, and making love to her every day marched through his mind. He couldn’t stop a smile from forming. “Are you asking for my hand?”

  Vivian shook her head and returned his grin. “I am demanding it.”

  The lock clicked and Madame Renarde swung the cell door open. “You’ll have to elope to Gretna Green,” the companion said. “I do not think you can acquire a special license.”

  Rhys caught Vivian as she threw herself into his arms. The bloodthirst reared up, but he suppressed it with the sheer joy in holding her. When his lips touched hers, his dreary cell faded away and he was transported to heaven. Vivian returned his kiss with unchecked hunger. Her low moan was a joyous serenade. Only when he was in danger of becoming aroused in front of Madame Renarde did Rhys regain his senses. With agonizing reluctance, he broke the kiss.

  “A journey to Scotland will be dangerous,” he said, trying to maintain practicality in the face of being offered his most fervent desire. “And I cannot Change you unless we find a Lord Vampire willing to legitimize me. I refuse to sentence you to life as a rogue.”

  “But you must marry me!” Vivian’s pleading voice tugged at his soul. “I love you, and cannot bear living without you.”

  “I love you too.” Rhys buried his face in her hair. “Which is why I cannot risk your death.”

  Madame Renarde cleared her throat. “I have an idea.”

  Rhys and Vivian turned to face the companion. Rhys had assumed that Lord Thornton had been able to banish Renarde’s memories. Apparently, he’d failed, but did Thornton know it hadn’t worked? If so, what were his plans for her?

  “Rhys should leave for Gretna Green immediately.” Madame Renarde brought his attention back to the present. “And Vivian and I will leave separately and meet you there. You can then wed, and Vivian can return here to help your niece manage the land in your name. If her uncle still Changes her like he plans, you can write to her when you find a lord vampire to legitimize you and you can reunite then.”

  Vivian nodded eagerly. “That could work.”

  Rhys frowned. “But what if Thornton refuses to Change her after helping me escape?”

  “Perhaps your new lord will allow you to Change her when you’re legitimized,” Madame Renarde said. “After all, she’ll be your wife.”

  “What if Lord Thornton catches you and Vivian on your way to Scotland?” As tantalizing as Renarde’s plan sounded, Rhys couldn’t stop weighing the risks. “What if he kills one or both of you? It’s simply too dangerous.”

  A dreaded voice sounded behind them, crushing Rhys’s spirit. “Do you truly believe that I would harm my own blood?” Aldric strode down the stairs. A longsword hung from his hip. “Though I do agree that running off to Scotland is indeed too dangerous. I won’t allow it.”

  “Uncle!” Vivian leapt in front of Rhys, trying to shield him with her body, even as he moved to protect her. “Please, don’t hurt him!”

  Madame Renarde moved to Rhys’s side as well. The foolhardy gesture humbled him.

  Rhys pulled both women against him and faced Lord Thornton over Vivian’s shoulder. “I am not naïve enough to plead for my life, but I will plead for Vivian, and Madame Renarde, and for Emily. Please, my lord, don’t punish them for my attempted escape.”

  “He didn’t try to escape!” Vivian told her uncle. “I tried to free him.”

  “And I am the one who told her that Rhys was here.” Madame Renarde lifted her chin in defiance, but Rhys felt the light tremble of her shoulders. “I picked the locks, and as you overheard, he has refused to go.”

  Her courage filled Rhys with wonder, but he wouldn’t allow Vivian’s loyal companion to sacrifice herself. “My lord—”

  Aldric held up a hand. “God blast it all, you win!”

  Rhys sucked in a breath. “I do?”

  “Not you, you bloody knave. Her.” Lord Thornton pointed at Vivian and spoke to her. “If I kill this sod, you’ll hate me for eternity, as you did when you thought I’d already done the deed. I can’t leave him locked in my dungeon either. Which gives me no choice but to legitimize him, loath as I am to do.”

  Was he dreaming, or was this some sort of cruel jest? Rhys knew he was gaping like a village idiot, but could not close his mouth.

  Vivian wrapped her arms around Rhys’s waist as if she feared he would be torn away from her side. “Oh, Uncle Aldric, thank you!”

  The Lord Vampire of Blackpool heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Even this elopement idea will work in our favor. Your father will want nothing to do with you afterward, and we won’t have to worry about London Society or my neighbors here in Blackpool any longer because they will shun you for such a scandalous thing. However, we don’t need to bother with a trip to Scotland. I will secure a special license after I legitimize your rogue.”

  Rhys sank to his knees.
“Thank you, my lord.”

  “I don’t want your thanks,” Blackpool snarled. “I want to mitigate the damage you’ve done, and for you to stop causing me trouble.”

  “You will have my utmost obedience.” For the safety of his family, marriage to the woman he loved, and citizenship, Rhys would walk over hot coals if Thornton asked him.

  At the moment, Vivian’s uncle looked more like he wished to ask Rhys to throw himself off a cliff. “Now that you are no longer a prisoner, there’s no need to linger in the dungeon.” Aldric turned and waved an impatient hand at the stairwell. “Let us all go inside and have a brandy. Lord, how I wish I could drink more than a little dram.”

  Still dazed, Rhys rose to his feet and clung to Vivian’s hand as they followed the Lord Vampire into the manor. The sight of the bright lanterns, plush carpets, and luxurious furnishings took Rhys aback. For a moment, he felt a twinge of the old hostility at the sight of such wealth. One of those silver candlesticks could have fed Emily and the children for nearly a year.

  But Emily and the children would be comfortable now. He could hardly believe it. Rhys would at last be able to make sure of it. He didn’t know if Aldric would be generous enough to grant Vivian money as well as land for her dowry, but he did know that as a legitimate citizen of Blackpool, Lord Thornton would grant him some sort of employment.

  Thornton settled them in a large sitting room full of plush sofas and overstuffed chairs. When they were seated, he rang for a servant.

  “Tea, wine, or whisky?” he asked Vivian and her companion.

  “Wine,” Vivian said, while Rhys and Madame Renarde opted for whisky.

  When the footman arrived, Thornton entranced him with his eyes and led him to Rhys’s side. “Normally, my servants are not to be dined upon, however, you need to feed, and I do not want you to bite my niece.”

  “My control is better than that, but I thank you for your generosity.” Rhys inclined his head with gratitude and carefully fed from the footman’s wrist. It was so much better than the pig and last night’s rat. Still, out of consideration, he drank as little as possible, and was careful to heal the man’s wounds with his blood. When he finished, Lord Thornton released the man and ordered their requested beverages.

 

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