In the Heat of the Bite (11 page)

“My aunt hates me,” she asserted again. “And she hates Caitrin. So, I willna gain any favor with her by stayin’ at Thorpe House, but I doona have anywhere else ta stay.”

“Certainly, you don’t think you can stay with me.” Oh, how he wished she could. But she’d be ruined. Permanently and completely.

“Oh, no. Nothin’ so drastic. I just want ta borrow some of yer respectability. Well, the respectability of the Blodswell
title
.” She tugged at the lapels of his coat with her two fists. “I need ye.”

“To do what?” God, if she didn’t spit it out, he’d go mad with wanting to hear it.

“Ta court me. Ta pretend ye’re interested in me.”

“I wouldn’t be pretending,” he said quietly. Her hazel eyes sparkled with his admission. “But I can’t.” He set her away from him and took a few steps back. “I simply cannot.”

She sighed deeply. “But I can pay ye.”

“I’ve no need of money, dearest.”

But then she shoved her dark hair back from her shoulder and exposed the graceful line of her neck to him. “No’ with money, Blodswell.”

Good God! Did she know what she was doing to him? The scent of her was already driving him mad. Now he could see that little pulse furiously pumping beneath the delicate skin at the base of her throat. The wind, her words, and the sounds of a lifetime were replaced with the cadence of her heart. Was she trying to get herself ravished? Matthew closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then he did it again. Slowly.

He must have made some painful sound because she stood up straight and frowned at him. Then she tugged the fall of her hair back over her shoulder. Thank God. “Oh, never mind. I thought ye would do quite nicely. That duchess seemed so taken with ye. And my aunt stopped frownin’ when Her Grace mentioned the age and respectability of yer title. But I can just ask one of Eynsford’s relations. Of the three of them, certainly
one
is respectable enough for me ta use him.”

Matthew immediately saw red. Blinding, red rage. He grabbed her arms and pulled her to him, and then he snaked an arm around her waist to hold her there while he tipped her chin up to force her to look at him. “You will not ask one of those lecherous beasts to partner you. Not for a dance. Not for a feigned courtship. Not for a buggy ride. Over my dead body.”

“That would be a bit difficult, seein’ as how ye’re immortal and all,” she acquiesced. “Ta be over yer dead body, I mean. That’s no’ likely ta happen.” She laughed lightly. She didn’t even squirm against him. She just let him hold her, his legs tangled in her skirts. She fit against him nicely, like she was made to be there.

“Yet you have the power to fell me unlike any other,” he said quietly.

“Say ye’ll do it, then? Please tell me ye will.” Her hazel eyes widened hopefully.

Matthew sighed. If he didn’t do it, she’d ask that damned Radbourne or one of his brood. Then she’d end up wearing someone else’s mark. He couldn’t allow that. He nodded quickly before he thought the better of it. “Very well, I’ll do it. I’ll pretend to court you. To make your aunt happy. I’ll do my best to charm her and appear respectable.”

“And ye’ll allow me ta pay ye?” She shivered in his grasp. Yet he immediately sensed it wasn’t a response to fear. It was to very real feelings she had while being held within his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” he grunted. Blast and damn. He’d think about it. And think about it some more. And dream about it. And wish for it. And it would consume him. And he’d be stuck dining on animal’s blood because no one else would ever do, not now that he’d smelled her. Not now that he held her close.

“Think about it,” she giggled. “I’ll make ye want me.”

He took her by the hand and dragged her back toward his curricle, grumbling under his breath, “Of that, I have no doubt.” Reaching his conveyance, Matthew picked her up and set her on the bench. “Miss Sinclair, I think you would be the death of me, if I wasn’t already dead.”

“Ye willna change yer mind, will ye?” She looked at once worried.

Matthew shook his head. “I gave you my word.” Then he slid into the curricle beside her and said, “May I have their heads now?” He gestured to his grays, who still seemed entranced.

She blew in the horses’ direction, and both sets of gray ears twitched. “They’re all yers.” She giggled.

He shook his head with wonder. He’d just made a fool’s bargain. And he was the damn fool.

This truly was one of the best ideas Rhiannon had ever had. She couldn’t have held back a smile if she wanted to. The Earl of Blodswell was the perfect candidate to gain her aunt’s approval. He was titled, handsome, wealthy… and from one of the oldest and most respected families in England. Surely Aunt Greer couldn’t find fault with him.

Well, there was that little problem of the slap Rhi had delivered to the vampyre in the Pickerings’ ballroom, but the Duchess of Hythe seemed to have smoothed that over rather nicely. Since the duchess seemed enamored of Blodswell’s title, or perhaps just his
grandfather
, Rhiannon couldn’t see her aunt disapproving of the earl. On the contrary, when the duchess had mentioned Blodswell’s ancient title, Aunt Greer had actually smiled. That was a rare occurrence, to be sure.

Thank heavens for the Duchess of Hythe. Rhi nearly giggled to herself. Eynsford would never believe the thought had even crossed Rhi’s mind, not considering the look of horror that had crossed his face the night before when he spotted the woman. And yet it was true just the same. Without the duchess’ favor…

Rhi frowned. What
was
her aunt doing in a barouche with the duchess? The absurdity of that situation hadn’t even crossed Rhi’s mind until this very moment. She’d been so elated to see Ginny and then terrified of the formidable duchess that Rhi hadn’t considered what odd companions the three of them made.

Havers!
Aunt Greer must be better connected than Rhi had originally assumed. Not that the thought should make her unhappy. Perhaps her aunt truly did have Ginny’s best interests at heart and was using her well-placed connections to ensure Ginny’s success on the marriage mart. And then again, perhaps flying dragons would deposit a family of trolls at Carlton House where they would be invited in for tea with the Regent.

Actually, there was more likelihood of the latter happening than the former. Aunt Greer only ever had her own best interests at heart. If only Rhi could figure out how her sister played into their aunt’s plans. And did the duchess have anything to do with the situation?

She glanced up at the vampyre beside her. Blodswell was glowering at no one in particular. What was that about? “Are ye all right, my lord?”

“Perfectly,” he replied, keeping his eyes focused on the street before them.

But he didn’t look perfectly fine. He didn’t sound it either. He said he wouldn’t change his mind, that he’d given his word; and Rhi had offered to pay him. Perhaps vampyres were simply moody creatures. That was certainly the case with the Lycans she knew. Rhiannon decided not to press the earl and instead watched the homes of Mayfair pass by as Blodswell directed his grays back to Thorpe House.

Before she knew it, the curricle had come to a stop in front of Caitrin’s home. Blodswell quickly alighted from his spot, strode behind his conveyance and offered his hand to help her down. Once on firm ground, Rhi stared up into the earl’s midnight eyes, something she would have never considered doing a mere two hours earlier. But he’d promised not to enchant her, and she believed him.

He seemed a very steady soul, different in almost every way from the tormented vampyre who’d taken control of her in Edinburgh. At once she felt a little embarrassed to have let those old fears color the way she saw Blodswell. The only thing they shared, it seemed, was the blackness of their eyes.

“Thank you, Miss Sinclair, for joining me today.” The earl pressed a kiss to her gloved hand.

Shivers raced down her spine and settled in her toes. “Thank ye, my lord, for everythin’.”

Something she didn’t quite understand lingered in his gaze. “I find myself unwilling to relinquish you, dearest,” he said. He looked most sincere as he said it, and almost pained by it.

Blodswell reached into his pocket, retrieved a folded note, and held it out to her. “Alec asked me to give this to you. He said you’d wanted to meet today,” he glanced up at Thorpe House behind her, “but under the circumstances, it’s better he not call on you here. I’m sure you understand.”

Of course. What had she been thinking to even suggest such a thing to Alec? Rhiannon closed her hand around the note and nodded. “Is he all right, sir? I mean truly all right?”

“Your devotion to him speaks wonders for his character.” He tipped his head in a slight bow. “I shall call on you tomorrow.”

Then he launched himself back into his curricle and headed off before Rhiannon realized he hadn’t really answered her question. She glanced at the folded note in her hand and then dashed up the steps of Thorpe House.

The kindly butler opened the door before she had even reached it and smiled warmly. “Welcome back, Miss Sinclair. Lady Eynsford is holding court in the green parlor.”

Which meant Rhi would avoid the green parlor at all costs until she had read Alec’s note. It practically burned a hole through Rhiannon’s gloved hand, and she knew in her heart that the contents were not something she should share with Caitrin. She smiled at the aged butler. “Thank ye, Price. After I freshen up a bit, I’ll join her ladyship.”

Then she bounded up the steps before Cait could leave the parlor to intercept her as she had done with Blodswell that afternoon. Rhi rushed down the corridor toward her chambers and stopped in her tracks when she saw a very large, very male figure leaning against the doorjamb of her room.

Lord Radbourne pushed himself away from the wall and offered a slight bow. “I am glad to see you’ve returned in one piece, sweetheart.”

Havers!
The air rushed from Rhiannon’s lungs. Was he lying in wait for her? And why? “My lord?” She took a hesitant step forward. “I thought ye were with Cait.” What a stupid thing to say.

Radbourne’s warm amber eyes drifted over her appreciatively. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re avoiding me.”

Rhiannon shook her head. “No, I just wanted ta freshen up a bit after the ride.”

The viscount made a sweeping motion with his hand as though inviting her into her own bedchamber. “Please do wash the scoundrel’s scent away.”

Rhi gaped at the man. “I beg yer pardon?”

One of Radbourne’s dark brows rose in mild amusement and he touched his nose. “Excellent senses, you know.”

She did know, having spent a little time with Lord Eynsford and a whole lot of time with Lord Benjamin Westfield. A Lycan’s sense of smell was unparalleled. Still, she hadn’t found anything unpleasing in Blodswell’s scent. “He’s no’ a scoundrel,” she defended for no apparent reason. Where had that come from?

“No, he’s worse than that.” Radbourne stepped toward her, taking up most of the space in the corridor. “He’s a creature who preys on the living.”

Rhiannon sucked in a surprised breath. “Ye ken what he is?”

The viscount tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I know a great many things, sweetheart. Until recently, I’ve not been acquainted with Blodswell, but I’ve known others of his kind. They’re a dangerous breed.”

“The same could be said of Lycans.” Rhiannon found herself defending Blodswell once again.

“Touché.” Radbourne chuckled lightly. “Yet Lycans enjoy the company of ladies for pleasure, not as a food source.”

Rhiannon gulped. She couldn’t exactly counter that point. Still, she had offered Blodswell a payment for his aid, and though he had said he wanted to take from her, he’d kept himself from doing so. That had to mean something, didn’t it? That she meant more than his next snack, perhaps? Though part of her didn’t think she’d mind so much being tasted by the earl. That thought should have scared the life out of her, but it didn’t. How strange this day was turning out to be. “Well, his lordship behaved quite gentlemanly. Would ye like ta search for bite marks?”

Radbourne’s golden eyes darkened, and a wolfish grin lit his face. “I’d like nothing better, sweetheart. Where shall I begin?”

Warmth engulfed Rhiannon.
Havers!
What a foolish thing to have suggested to the man. “I-I dinna—”

“Archer!” Cait called from the top of the staircase. “I wondered where ye had gotten off ta. Dash has been lookin’ for ye.”

“Has he indeed?” Radbourne smothered a smile. “In the same fashion he was looking for Gray earlier this afternoon?”

“Exactly,” Cait replied haughtily. “And what are ye doin’ blockin’ Rhiannon from her room? I canna imagine yer mother raised ye ta accost young ladies outside their bedchambers.”

The viscount laughed as he sidled past Rhiannon to face his sister-in-law. “There are a great many things my mother did not raise me to do.”

Cait sighed. “As I am very aware. Now, off ta Dash’s study with ye.”

“As you wish, my lady.” He dropped a kiss on Cait’s brow. “A more lovely termagant, I’ve never met.”

Cait batted him away. “Be off before I have Dash put you out with the hounds.” As soon as they were alone in the corridor, Cait stepped closer to Rhiannon and grinned. “Tell me all about it.”

Rhi closed her hand tighter around Alec’s letter and shook her head. “All about what?”

“The ride, ye ninny, and doona leave out any details.”

Oh, there were a great many details Rhi would leave out. “We saw Ginny, and Aunt Greer seemed impressed with Blodswell’s title.”

“As well she should be.”

Rhi folded her arms across her chest. She wasn’t certain she appreciated Cait’s gaiety in regard to the earl. Though Rhiannon had decided she liked Blodswell much more than she had initially thought, Cait’s wide-eyed interest in the situation made her a little uncomfortable. Hopefully, Cait would never learn of Rhi’s deal with the vampyre. “Ye havena been peekin’ inta my future again, have ye?”

Looking as though she was the epitome of innocence, Cait shook her head. “I said I would no’. But if ye doona want me ta peek, ye should tell me everythin’ that happened. Otherwise, I could get so curious I might no’ be able ta stop myself.”