In the Heat of the Bite (31 page)

Rhiannon nodded. She knew the duchess was right. It was better to know what she was getting herself into with Matthew than to let her heart lead her.

“Good girl.” Her Grace patted Rhi’s hand. “Now, go on with you and send that sister of yours up. We’ll have to get our story straight before we head over to Cooper House.”

After Rhi departed from the duchess’ personal sitting room, the Hythes’ butler led her to a small parlor done in soft pinks and yellows, where Cait and Ginny sat across from each other in matching chintz chairs. When Rhiannon entered, Ginny bolted from her seat.

“What did she say?”

Rhiannon shrugged. Ginny was the last person she’d tell her plan to. Heaven forbid her sister put the same featherbrained plan in motion with Lord Steven as her target. “She said she’s ready for ye ta join her so ye can decide what ta tell Aunt Greer.”

Ginny crossed the floor in a few strides and threw her arms around Rhiannon’s neck. “I am so sorry about all of this.”

Rhi was sorry, too. She patted her sister’s back. “No’ ta worry, Gin. One way or the other, things will turn out.”

“That dishonorable, skirt-chasing blackguard. I’d like ta slap that smug expression from his face.”

Rhi pulled out of her sister’s embrace. “Ye doona want ta keep the duchess waitin’.”

Ginny agreed with a quick good-bye to Cait and a kiss on Rhiannon’s cheek, and then she quit the room.

Cait folded her arms across her chest and frowned. “I’ll expect ye ta tell
me
the truth.”

As though anyone could ever lie to Cait and get away with it. “Of course, but I’d rather do so in the privacy of yer carriage.”

“Well, then,” Cait hooked Rhi’s arm with her own, “let’s take our leave already.”

If Rhiannon’s heart wasn’t so heavy, she would have laughed. Cait hated being kept in the dark about anything. They waited patiently as the Eynsford carriage pulled in front of the steps, and then Cait rushed Rhi into the conveyance and shut the door behind them.

“All right. Let me hear it.”

“Ye are a mite impatient, Caitrin.”

The seer narrowed her pretty blue eyes. “I am waitin’, Rhiannon Sinclair.”

Rhi nodded. “Very well. Her Grace said I should follow him for a sennight. See where he spends his time and with whom. That if I canna deal with what I find, then I should cry off before it’s too late.”

Cait frowned and fell back against the squabs with a harrumph. “I doona think that’s a very good idea, Rhi.”

“Why no’? I might learn who this woman is. What she means ta him.”

“I think we already ken what she means ta him. She’s a willin’ lass. Besides, I’ve
seen
some of the places he and Alec haunt, and I wouldna want that vision for ye.”

Rhi leaned forward on her bench. “What sort of places?”

Cait’s frown darkened, and she folded her arms across her chest. “For heaven’s sake, Rhi. The man is a vampyre. The sort of places he goes are no’ fit for anyone’s eyes. I wish
I
hadna seen that feeding trough that doubles as a gentlemen’s club.”

“Gentlemen’s club?”

“Oh, no.” Cait shook her head. “I willna say one more word about it. Just stay clear of the place and no followin’ Blodswell. I had no idea the duchess was goin’ ta fill yer head with such nonsense. I thought for sure she’d tell ye ta cut yer losses and find a man who is truly deservin’ of ye.”

“She asked me if I love him,” Rhi said softly.

Cait groaned aloud and closed her eyes. “It’s all my fault.”

“It’s no’ yer fault, Cait. So doona blame yerself. I think Her Grace is right. I should learn all I can about Matthew. If I am ta marry the man, I should ken the whole truth of who he is. I need ta ken if I can live with all of it.”

Cait’s pained expression spoke her blatant disagreement more clearly than if she’d used actual words.

The coach slowed to a halt. “I’ll ask Archer ta go with me. I promise I’ll be safe.” Rhiannon tried to assuage her friend’s worry.

The coach door opened and Lord Radbourne poked his head inside, a charming grin upon his handsome face. “Did I hear my name?”

Cait rolled her eyes. “Ye must be hearin’ things, Archer. No one was talkin’ about ye at all.” Clearly her friend thought she could talk Rhiannon out of her plan.

Rhiannon sighed. She wasn’t about to be managed so easily. “I
was
talkin’ about ye, my lord. I’m hopin’ ye might be willin’ ta help me with somethin’.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Cait pushed past the viscount as she exited the coach. “We’ll just have ta see what your brother has ta say about it.” She started up the drive as quickly as her slipper-shod feet could take her.

Before Rhiannon could follow her friend, Archer climbed into the coach and sank into the seat opposite her. He rapped on the roof to get the carriage moving, smiled roguishly at her, and said, “If I’m going to have the pack alpha snarling at me for the rest of the week like some dog who has lost his bone, you had better fill me in on your plan. I need to decide if time spent with you is worth the pop on the nose I’ll get when I next see Dashiel. Where are we going?”

Rhiannon looked out the small window to see Cait standing with her hands on her hips. “She’s goin’ ta be so angry,” she mumbled. Then she gave Radbourne her full attention. “I’m no’ entirely certain where we’re goin’. But I’m almost sure we’ll know it when we get there.”

“Why does that frighten me?” He gave a mock shiver.

“Ye are no’ required ta accompany me. I’m certain I can find Matthew on my own.” She refused to look Radbourne in the face when she said the last.

“Have you lost him?” He didn’t even crack a smile.

“No, I havena
lost
him.” She shook her head with dismay.

“You haven’t lost him, yet you feel the need to find him?” His eyes narrowed at her as though by doing so he could peer at her innermost secrets.

“I’m simply… interested.” She shrugged her shoulders in what she thought was a nonchalant gesture. To him, it probably just looked foolish.

“I already knew you were interested, considering your betrothal and how close you two became at the Duchess of Hythe’s soiree.” He held up two hands to fend off her sputtering protests. “I know it’s not appropriate to discuss, but you nearly got yourself ruined. You’d run headlong into trouble with every turn if you didn’t have someone looking after your best interests.”

“And ye have taxed yerself with that job, Lord Radbourne?” she returned hotly.

His brows rose as he chuckled. “Oh, so we’re back to formalities now, are we?”

“Ye doona ken me well enough ta judge me,” she said softly as the most mortifying of tears slipped down her face. She swiped at it with the back of her hand. The pitter-patter of raindrops hit the top of the carriage.

“Now you’re going to be a watering pot? Good God, you women do know how to tug at a man’s heartstrings.” He groaned deeply, switched sides in the carriage, and then drew her head to lie on his shoulder. He didn’t embrace her or otherwise touch her but let her sniffle against the sleeve of his coat until she was done. “Now do you want to talk about what has you so upset?” he asked gently.

Gone was the snide, devil-may-care viscount. In his place was Archer Hadley, and she wasn’t too sure how to process that.

“My sister caught Matthew in the garden with a lass at the duchess’ soiree,” she said quietly, hating the very thought of saying the words out loud. As though that would give them credence.

“Was this before or after
I
caught
him
with
you
at the soiree?” He didn’t have a bit of smile in his voice, but Rhiannon was afraid to look at his face.

“After,” she replied.

“So, you believe he had a tryst with you and then went on to have another with some other unsuspecting female?” She heard the smile in his voice this time. The blackguard. She poked him in the side.

“I doona think she was unsuspectin’,” Rhiannon said. “She was suspectin’.”

He actually chuckled out loud. Even more gloom settled over Rhiannon. The rain began to fall harder on the roof of the carriage. “Sweetheart, he’s just a man. And I can tell you from experience that he cannot do what he did with you and then do it again five minutes later.” He paused as though mulling something over in his mind. “Well, I can, but I doubt Blodswell can.”

“Ye can do what?” She sat up to look him in the eye. “I doona understand.”

“Never mind,” he said as he coaxed her head back onto his shoulder. He took a deep breath before continuing. “As much as I hate the very idea of helping the man, have you asked Blodswell what the situation was with the other woman in the garden?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Of course not. That would be much too direct for those of you who wear skirts, wouldn’t it? Just once, I’d love to find a woman who will speak to me directly, question my every move, and challenge my very existence.” He sighed.

“The duchess said I should follow him,” she admitted. “Watch and see where he goes.”

He snorted. “Absolutely not. We will do no such thing. We will simply go and ask the man.” He tapped the roof with his fist. “Upper Brook Street. Blodswell House.” Then he glanced back down at Rhiannon. “We will take the bull by the horns.”

“The duchess said somethin’ about that, and knowing which horn to grab, but I wasn’t sure what she meant…” She let her voice trail off.

He coughed into his hand to smother a laugh. “The duchess is much naughtier than I ever expected. The next time she attempts to eject me and my brothers from one of her soirees, I might just let on that I’m aware of her mischievous side.”

“Leave me out of it, if ye do,” Rhiannon requested. That was all she needed. To be on the outs with the Duchess of Hythe, her only ally aside from her coven sisters. “Are ye sure we should do this? I mean, go ta Matthew’s home.”

Archer’s amber eyes sparkled with mirth. “After what you
have
been doing with the man, visiting his home is nothing. Besides, you’re with me.”

Which really wasn’t much better than being alone, at least not in society’s eyes. In fact, it might be worse. “I shouldna even be with ye. I do still have a reputation.”

The coach slowed down and came to a stop. Archer lifted the curtain and glanced out. The rain still poured. She was still feeling melancholy, so of course it did.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Was she ready? No, she would never be ready to face Matthew and simply
ask
him what had happened with that other lass. What a ridiculous notion. She shook her head in the negative.

“Chin up, Rhiannon,” he teased. “It’s not as bad as you think. When you ask direct questions, you might just get direct answers.”

She squared her shoulders. She was a weather-born witch. She had years and years of a prosperous magical legacy at her disposal. And here she sat, cowering like a homeless waif? What rubbish.

“I’m ready,” she said.

He stepped out of the coach and ducked his head against the pouring rain. He moved to shuck his coat and cover her head, but she dodged him.

“I love the rain,” she explained, raising her arms to catch the droplets in her cupped hand. She inhaled deeply, using the weather imbalance to upright the emotions that had roiled within her only moments before.

“Have you finally gone daft on me, Rhiannon?” he asked, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to meet his gaze. “Rhi, are you all right?”

“Better,” she sighed. Then she hopped up on her tiptoes and quickly kissed his cheek. “Thank ye, Archer. But ye can go now. I’ll be fine.” She started toward Matthew’s door.

Archer followed close on her heels, but she spun quickly, raised her hand, and shoved him back with a blast of air. He stumbled under the onslaught. “What the devil?” he cursed.

“My apologies,” she said, feeling lighter than she had all day. “Thank ye for accompanyin’ me, but this is somethin’ I need ta do on my own.”

“You’re soaking wet, Rhiannon,” he complained, looking around as though he still wanted to know where that blast of air had originated. “Let me take you home.”

“I have my nerve up, now, Archer. But thank ye all the same.” She dismissed him by turning her back as she rapped on the door of Matthew’s town house.

His butler opened the door and gazed down at her. “May I help you?”

Certainly, she looked like a street urchin with her hair stuck to her head and her dress dripping with rain. But she raised her nose up in the air and asked for Matthew, regardless.

“His lordship is not in residence at the present time,” he said. He closed the door in her face.
How dare he?

“
Now
are you ready to go home?” Archer called to her.

“No, I am no’ ready ta go home,” she replied.

He sighed heavily. “How much longer until you give up?”

“Oh, ye doona ken me very well, Archer, if ye think I might give up.” Evidently, he found her to be weak. Of course, if you paint the portrait, you must play the part. Well, the part of a weak, little Scottish lass wasn’t a character she was willing to portray. Not anymore.

“This is nonsense. The man isn’t home, and you’re drenched. Get back in the coach, Rhiannon.”

But she shook her head. “There is no’ a thing in the world ye could say that will dissuade me. So be off.”

“You really mean to stand here in the rain and wait for the man?”

“No. I plan ta sneak inside and wait for him.”

Rhiannon crept back up the steps of Matthew’s home. She pressed her ear to the door and was relieved not to hear anyone moving about on the other side. Then she cracked the door and peered inside, looking left and right. No one was in sight. She stuck an arm out the door and motioned to Archer that all was well. Hopefully, he would leave. Somehow, she doubted that, though.

She glanced down at the floor, which was quickly becoming a sopping wet mess, thanks to her drenched skirts. Rhiannon pulled her hem above the floor and dashed up the staircase as fast as her feet would take her. Most town homes had bedchambers abovestairs, didn’t they? She certainly hoped so.

She tiptoed around until she found what had to be the earl’s master chamber. She didn’t know what she had expected, but certainly not the rich opulence that met her eye. Large furniture pieces in dark mahogany stood sentinel in the room, with the focus being a massive four-poster bed. Various knickknacks and bric-a-brac were tossed about, and Rhiannon stopped briefly to glance at them. But what she needed most was the fire. She was still dripping and cold. Thankfully, a small smoldering fire still warmed in the grate. She poked at it, bringing new life to the flames. Within moments, she had a nice blaze going. Now what to do about the water?