In the Heat of the Bite (21 page)

Happy wasn’t quite the word. She was
anxious
to have Matthew all to herself, to look across him at an altar and become his wife. At the same time she was
concerned
about his well-being. He certainly didn’t look like himself, not like the debonair gentleman she’d met in Hyde Park in the middle of her storm. And then there was the episode of him clutching his heart in the carriage and the expression of agonizing pain he had worn in that terrifying instant.

“Blaire said vampyres are the strongest of creatures.”

Cait giggled. “Ye better no’ let a Lycan hear ye say such a thing. They can be very sensitive.”

But Lycans weren’t immortal, were they? No, vampyres were most definitely stronger. “I’m worried about Matthew. He seems as though he’s in pain. And he needs ta feed, and…”

“Ye’d like ta be his meal.”

Rhiannon was certain she’d never blushed so fiercely if the warmth of her cheeks was any indication. “I-I just want him ta be all right.”

Cait’s icy blue eyes danced. “That’s no’ all ye want, but I’ll let ye leave it at that for now.”

“It doesna matter what I want. He willna let me help him.” Rhiannon balled her hands into tight fists.

“And ye’ll just let him make that decision, will ye? Hmm. That doesna sound like the Rhiannon Sinclair I’ve kent my whole life.”

Rhi glared at her sister witch. “Well, what am I supposed ta do? Barge on over ta his home, bash my way in, and force my blood on him? I’m no’ Blaire, ye ken.”

Cait’s eyes settled on her lap, and if someone didn’t know her, they might have mistaken the marchioness as being demure. “I think, Rhi, that ye should do whatever is in yer heart. It’s the best advice I can give.”

The way her friend said the words sent a shiver of fear down Rhi’s back. “Ye ken what will happen. Tell me, Cait.”

Her friend simply shook her head, still not meeting her eyes. “Ye ken I canna tell ye.”

Never before this moment had Rhi so hated the rules that went along with Cait’s powers. If Rhi had just the tiniest of clues about what the future had in store, she would be able to make decisions so much easier.

“Cait,” she began imploringly.

But her friend’s lips tightened stubbornly. “I told ye ta follow yer heart, Rhi. I canna say more than that.”

The wind rushed from Rhi’s lungs. That was no help at all. Her heart told her to use every ounce of the seductive powers she possessed to make Matthew take whatever amount of her blood he needed. Her heart told her to convince her vampyre to race for the Scottish border and be done with all of this English nonsense. Her heart told her that she had very little time.

Scots were notorious for blustering. Matthew had known more than a few over his lifetimes. But Alec MacQuarrie might be the very worst blusterer of his countrymen. As the two of them had sat across the coach from each other, the Scot had done everything but pull the hair from his own head.

“I know you’re my mentor, my maker, or whatever you want to call yourself, and you’re supposed to be guiding me along this thorny path, but that’s complete bollocks! I asked one thing of you. Just one. And could my one measly wish be granted by the great and legendary Sir Matthew Halkett? Apparently not. Apparently it was too much to ask you to keep your damned teeth off Rhiannon.

“Dozens of girls line the halls of
Brysi
waiting for your illustrious return. You could have any number of them or all of them for as long as you want. But that wasn’t enough, was it? No, you had to go and do the
one
thing I asked you not to.

“Even then you couldn’t stop there, could you? Oh, no! You had to get yourself betrothed to the lass. So her entire life will be ruined.” He slammed his fist against the side of the coach.

“Do watch your strength,” Matthew warned. “One more hit like that, and the whole conveyance might crumble to splinters.”

“Would you prefer I hit you instead?”

“You are more than welcome to give it a try, Alec; but I’ve been winning fights longer than you’ve been alive.”

“How
could
you?” the Scot finally asked, and it sounded as though the question tore away at part of his soul.

Matthew took the momentary silence to calmly reply, even though deep down he agreed with most of the Scot’s assessment of the situation. “I hardly think marrying me will ruin her life.”

Alec glared at him. “Then you’d be wrong.”

Matthew frowned at his protégé. “Hypocrisy does not look good on you, Alec.”

“Me?” the Scot sputtered.

“Yes, you. You’re so convinced I’ll ruin Rhiannon’s life, and yet you drool over Eynsford’s wife like a lovesick schoolboy. If the marquess was to meet with an unfortunate and untimely end, can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t knock down the door at Thorpe House and abscond with the lass?”

Alec’s jaw tightened. “I would never subject Cait to what I’ve become.”

Until now, Matthew had never thought himself willing to subject a woman to what he was, either. “You might feel differently if it was only
her
blood you could drink, my friend.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“I can’t feed,” Matthew admitted, watching his charge closely. “My fangs won’t distend for anyone but Rhiannon. Nothing else tastes right. Not the detestable sheep’s blood you gave me. Not the fresh human blood Callista forced on me. But just one drop of Rhiannon’s blood is like the sweetest heaven I’ve ever experienced.”

“Ever?” Alec narrowed his eyes on Matthew. “In your 650 years, Rhi’s blood is the best you’ve ever tasted?”

“I find it’s hard to remember anyone else.” Matthew leaned back against the squabs. “Put your fears aside, Alec. I will not ruin her life. We have a bond, a connection I can’t explain. I’ll make certain her whole life is filled with nothing but joy.”

“And how long will her life be?” Alec folded his arms across his chest. “Will you turn her so the two of you can enjoy eternity together?”

The thought of Alec’s suggestion lifted Matthew’s soul tenfold. How wonderful to share
forever
with Rhiannon. But he would never ask that of her. This sort of life wasn’t for the meek. “You know I live by a code. You were dying, so I saved you. I don’t make a habit of turning perfectly healthy people into vampyres.”

Alec’s frown deepened. “You said you saw Callista?”

Matthew nodded.

“You must have truly been worried. What did she say about all of this?”

Matthew would rather not repeat all of what his maker had said. Her words would most likely set Alec off once again. “She suggested I marry Rhiannon.”

Alec snorted. “So you’re simply following her directive.”

“I’ve never been accused of following Callista’s directive before. No, I’m doing what society and decency dictates, Alec. Rhiannon Sinclair wants to be my wife. I need her to survive. I would never take from her unless we were truly married.”

“Noble to the last.”

“The last isn’t upon us yet. Now I could use your advice.”

“Mine?” True surprise rang out from Alec’s voice.

“I need to have a letter delivered to Mr. Sinclair asking for his daughter’s hand. I don’t know the first thing about the man, but you do. Suggestions are welcome.”

Alec snorted. “If you could convince Dougal Sinclair to give a damn, it would be a miracle.”

Matthew’s mouth fell open. He’d never heard Alec say such a thing about anyone… Well, about anyone who wasn’t the Marquess of Eynsford, in any event.

The Scot must have noted his surprise, because Alec hastened to explain. “I don’t believe him to be a villain, and I think he
does
love his daughters. At least he used to. He just seems to have forgotten they exist. When his wife died, I think most of Dougal Sinclair went with her. To say he was neglectful would be a compliment.”

Matthew stared at his friend. Rhiannon had been neglected? That explained so much about her. Why she seem so independent at times, yet still so starved for attention. What was it she’d said that very afternoon? She’d never been wanted before, much less needed. The thought of his sweet witch having been ignored sent a jolt of pain where his heart used to be.

“Poor Rhiannon,” he muttered.

Alec shrugged. “So if you’re asking what to put in your letter, a simple, ‘I’d like your permission to marry Rhiannon. Please have the banns read this coming Sunday’ should suffice.”

“That’s it?”

“You’d probably want to have your man wait for a reply, perhaps even pay the good vicar, Mr. Crawford, a visit as well to ensure everything is handled appropriately. Sinclair is a bit absentminded. He might not remember to send a reply if you don’t have someone looming over him to demand action and a response.”

“In that case, I should probably go myself.”

“I would if I were you.” Alec nodded tightly. “But if you hurt her, I’ll…”

Matthew speared him with a glare. “I’m relieved to know you think so highly of me.”

“Considering my wishes in regards to your current situation, my opinion isn’t what it once was.”

Matthew inclined his head. “I do hope, Alec, that you never find yourself in
my
situation. It is so difficult being lofty when your pedestal crumbles to ash.”

“If ye tug on the bodice of that gown one more time, ye will find yerself with a torn neckline, Rhiannon Sinclair,” Cait hissed as they walked out of her chambers. “There’s no magical spell that will give the inches ye think ye’re lackin’.”

“I would argue that the good lady is not lacking a thing,” Lord Radbourne said drolly as he looked up at them from the bottom of the stairs. They cut a dashing profile, the viscount and Cait’s marquess. Rhiannon wasn’t certain how anyone missed that they were brothers. But, evidently, society was either blind or chose to overlook it.

“You look lovely, sweetheart,” Lord Radbourne said as he tucked Rhi’s hand into his elbow and smiled down at her. “And thank you for allowing me to escort you to the Duchess of Hythe’s soiree.”

“Thank ye for offerin’. I have no idea what could be keepin’ Matthew.” She hadn’t seen him since their last awkward parting, when they’d both been forcibly ripped from the coach by an overly protective vampyreling and a wolf in gentleman’s clothing.

“Whatever it is, it must be important,” Archer tossed in. “Or else the man is just a fool for leaving you to your own devices.”

Cait shot Eynsford a glare. “Do ye ken where he is, Dash?”

Eynsford shrugged but refused to meet her eyes. “I’m certain I don’t care where he is,” he said enigmatically.

“I’m worried about him is all,” Rhiannon said quietly.

“No need ta be worried, Rhi,” Cait soothed. “He has been alive a very long time. He kens how ta take care of himself.” She turned to her husband. “Right, Dash?”

“Mmm-hmm,” the marquess said noncommittally.

“I’m just surprised he offered ta escort ye and then dinna bother ta explain.”

“He did send a note, Cait,” Eynsford reminded them both. “He was unavoidably detained.”

“By whom?” Rhiannon asked.

“It’s probably not a
whom
. It’s probably a
what
.” Dashiel took Cait’s hand and started for the door. Radbourne handed Rhi inside the coach gallantly and then settled in beside her, with Cait and Eynsford across from them.

“You’re just being generous by claiming that, Dashiel,” Radbourne scolded playfully. “It very well may be a
whom
. Don’t they need all the
whoms
they can get to avoid that dreaded thirst?”

“I’m fairly certain it doesn’t work like that,” Eynsford grunted, shooting a glare at his brother.

“Do you plan to let him bite you?” Radbourne asked candidly of Rhiannon.

Cait gasped from across the coach. “That is none of yer business, Archer Hadley!” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “If I must be punished for my misdeeds, why must it be in the form of three Lycans who cannot control their tongues?” she breathed.

Radbourne shrugged innocently. “Don’t tell me you’re not curious, too.” He grinned down at Rhiannon.

“Doona judge him,” Rhi said softly. “Ye doona ken him well enough ta judge him.” She stared out the window at the busy road they traveled.

“I wasn’t judging. I was simply curious.” He took a deep breath and then forged ahead. “It’s not as though we Lycans don’t have some odd mating rituals of our own.”

They did? Like what? Rhi turned her attention back to the other occupants inside the coach.

Radbourne winced as Eynsford kicked him in the shin. Hard. “Behave,” he said. Just one word. Behave. Then the viscount closed his lips. Tightly.

Rhiannon tugged at the bodice of her gown again and sighed deeply. She would have cried off on the night’s festivities if not for the fact that Ginny would be there. Rhi desperately needed to talk to Ginny, to find out how she was doing. None of her correspondence to her aunt’s house had received a reply. Not a single letter. Not a word.

Matthew was supposed to let her borrow some of his respectability, but how could he if he wasn’t even present?

“Ye think ye’ll be all right tonight, Rhi?” Cait asked quietly as the coach stopped and the men stepped out. “If ye feel like yer emotions will be goin’ off at odd times, tell me and we can take our leave early. I’ll plead a headache. It’s no’ so far from the truth in these settings.”