In the Heat of the Bite (29 page)

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Authors: Lydia Dare

Tags: #Romance, #Regency, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: In the Heat of the Bite
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The three women assumed nearly identical poses. All three crossed their arms beneath their breasts, squared their shoulders, and if looks could kill, he would have been dead thrice over.

“Good morning?” he attempted. He probably sounded like the worst sort of fool.

“Is it?” the youngest of the three asked.

“Of course it is for him, Ginny,” Rhiannon bit out. “He’s a
man
, after all.”

What the devil was that supposed to mean?

Eynsford’s hand shoved him the rest of the way out of his study and into the corridor. His smothered “Best of luck to you, Blodswell” was little comfort as Eynsford shut the study door, leaving Matthew alone to face the three lovely women, all of whom apparently held him in great contempt for some reason.

“Were you on your way out?” he asked, appalled to discover his voice trembled a little when faced with the trio. He’d been alive for more than six centuries, and three small lasses had him ready to drop at their feet and beg for their favor? What rubbish.

Rhiannon looked the other two women up and down, and then shot a glance down her own body. “Does it look like we’re dressed ta stay at home?”

In fact, now that it came to his attention, the three of them were wearing full-length pelisses. The ladies were obviously headed out. Why that fact had escaped him moments before, he had no idea. Aside, of course, from the fact that Rhiannon’s heartbeat, which he could hear in his head beating its frantic little rhythm, had the majority of his attention. His ever-increasing desire to once again taste her gardenia-scented body held the rest. One would think that after just having a taste of her the night before, he would be satisfied. But that was not the case.

“I am at your disposal should you need an escort,” he offered. He finally met Rhiannon’s gaze, which flashed like the lightning he knew she barely held at bay. She was that angry. She was very, very angry. If only he knew why.

“I believe we can find our way across Town, but thank ye for the offer,” Rhiannon clipped out. But beneath all that anger in her fierce gaze, he sensed a measure of hurt as well.

“Might I have a word with you before you go, Rhiannon?” he asked casually.

“Might ye be boiled in a cauldron of oil, Lord Blodswell?” the youngest one said. She looked quite pleased with herself. That one wasn’t even a witch, though she’d obviously been raised by one.

He sighed heavily in exasperation. Lady Eynsford locked arms with Rhiannon on one side and her sister on the other. Then they charged down the corridor, forcing him to scurry to the side like a rat in hiding to keep from being run over.

“Perhaps later, then,” he called to their retreating backs.

When the women had disappeared out the front door, Matthew sagged against the wall, closed his eyes, and tried to rein in his errant thoughts. What on earth had made Rhiannon so angry? The night before, she’d found pleasure while he shared in her life force. And today he was a pariah. What could possibly have changed?

The door to Eynsford’s study opened slowly, and the Lycan pushed his head out, glancing left and right down the hallway. “Are they gone?” he whispered dramatically.

Matthew nodded.

“Thank God,” Eynsford sighed, and his shoulders drooped in relief. “I don’t know what you did, but you have until they get home to undo it. Because, if I have to spend another morning with my wife shooting mental daggers at me simply because I have bollocks, I’ll have your head.” He jabbed a finger at Matthew as he talked. “And I don’t give a damn how strong your maker is or how many scars she might inflict upon me as recompense for any harm that could befall you. It would be worth it.”

Then a smile broke across the man’s face. He was enjoying Matthew’s discomfort. Oh, yes, he was.

“What did you do?” the Lycan asked.

If only he knew. Matthew shrugged. “I have no idea.” He touched his own ear. “You didn’t by chance overhear anything, did you?”

“Whispers,” Eynsford offered in way of explanation. “Just sounds like hissing to me, and my thoughts have been occupied with Weston’s disfigurement this morning.”

Disfigurement was a slight exaggeration, though Matthew held his tongue.

“You’ve clearly done something.”

Clearly. Though he had no idea what it could be. “I would say that the fact that I’m breathing has irked them, but since I really don’t need to breathe to live, that wouldn’t hold water.”

Eynsford grinned broadly. “Oh, it’s not the breathing that offends them. It’s your very existence.” The man chuckled all the way back into his study. He laughed until Matthew would wager that his side hurt from the merriment.

 

Rhiannon settled back against the squabs of Eynsford’s plush coach and bit back the tears that threatened to fall. “How
could
he?” she moaned instead. She turned to face her sister. “Ginny, are ye certain he kissed her? Ye couldna be mistaken?”

“I am completely certain,” Ginny said, the truth in her tone achingly familiar. “Well,
she
kissed
him
, but he liked it.”

“How do ye ken he liked it?” Cait asked, her tone frantic. She’d been beside herself all morning, ever since breakfast when she’d learned about what had happened the night before.

“He dinna stop her,” Ginny said.

Cait groaned and flopped back against the seat. “I canna believe I was so wrong about him. Why dinna I see it?”

“Cait, all ye have ta do is look inta the future ta see if there’s any truth behind what Ginny saw. Perhaps she was just mistaken.” Of course, Cait could. What good was such a power if one could not use it?

“That would be lookin’ in the past,” Caitrin grumbled. “I doona have that power.” Then she shook her head vehemently. “Besides, I have interfered enough. Ye never would have fallen for him if I hadna forced it.”

“Ye dinna force anythin’,” Rhiannon corrected. As though Cait could force her into somewhere she didn’t want to be. Cait’s was a passive power after all, while Rhiannon’s was quite active. More active than she wanted it to be most days.

Cait massaged her forehead. “Oh, I did,” she groaned. “I thrust ye inta his path at every opportunity.” She threw her hands up in defeat. “And now look what has happened. Ye have fallen in love with the scoundrel, while he’s out kissin’ other lasses.”

Rhiannon sat forward. “Cait, look inta my future, just this once,” she prodded. “And tell me what the outcome will be.”

“No.” Cait turned to look out the coach window, quite effectively dismissing them all. “I willna participate in this debacle of a courtship. No’ anymore.”

“This debacle of a courtship just happens ta be my life,” Rhiannon charged. “And since ye
did
thrust me inta the path of that man, ye owe me.”

“Which probably caused the problem in the first place. I kent better than ta interfere with the future, but ye looked so happy in my vision. I wanted it so badly for ye.”

“Cait, please,” Rhiannon begged.

“Canna ye see what my interferin’ has already caused, Rhi?” Cait shook her head. “It’s all my fault, and I willna compound the mistake by makin’ another one.” She clamped her lips together tightly.

Rhiannon knew at that very moment she was done for. Cait had decided not to participate. And there would be no swaying her from her decision.

“Where are we goin’?” Ginny asked quietly from her side of the coach. “I should probably get back ta Aunt Greer’s house. I’ve been gone all night. She must be frantic with worry.”

Or thoroughly perturbed that she couldn’t control Ginny’s every movement. The latter was more likely.

“I need ta talk with the Duchess of Hythe,” Rhiannon said.

“Why on earth would ye want ta talk ta her?” Cait countered.

“She offered last night ta be my mentor,” Rhiannon mumbled, hating to tell them all the truth of the matter. But she was desperate.

“She did?” Cait couldn’t have looked more shocked if Rhiannon had just hit her with a bolt of lightning.

“She did,” Rhiannon affirmed with a nod. “She likes me.”

“She doesna like anyone,” Ginny announced.

Just then, the coach stopped in front of Hythe House and Cait pushed the curtain back to peer cautiously outside. “Ye doona expect me ta go in there, do ye? I would sooner have someone string me up by my toenails than drop in on her Her Grace unannounced. It’s simply no’ done.” She looked at Rhiannon as though she’d gone mad.

The coach door opened, and Rhiannon bounded out. She turned back to Ginny and Cait and said with a smirk, “Ye may stay in the coach, or ye may join me. But if ye decide no’ ta accompany me, I willna fill ye in on the details later.” Their own yearning to know what was going on would be their downfall. She was certain of it.

They both scurried out behind her, just as Rhiannon had assumed they would. No one would miss the tale that was about to unfold.

Rhiannon squared her shoulders as the butler opened the door and looked down his long, crooked nose at her. “Miss Rhiannon Sinclair for the Duchess of Hythe, please,” she said, happy to hear it when her voice didn’t tremble. Well, only a small bit.

“Her Grace is not receiving at the moment,” he said, his eyebrows drawing together in the fiercest look she’d ever seen.

But Rhiannon refused to be cowed. She pushed through the door, sliding directly beneath his arm and into the foyer. She stood proud and tall. “I’d appreciate it if ye would tell the duchess I’m here anyway.”

He closed the door, nodded once to her in deference, and walked slowly down the corridor. As soon as he was gone, Rhiannon opened the front door and ushered Cait and Ginny inside.

“She’s finally done it. She has finally gone mad. I kent all those year spent out of doors would be her downfall,” Ginny whispered to herself, her eyes closed tightly.

The clunk of the butler’s shoes heralded his return to the foyer. “The duchess will see you in her sitting room.”

Cait reached over and grabbed Rhiannon’s arm, hissing in her ear. “Ye have been invited inta the duchess’ own sittin’ room?”

“If ye swoon, I swear I willna catch ye,” Rhiannon warned sternly.

“And the ladies may—” the butler began.

“They may accompany me,” Rhiannon blurted before he could relegate them to a separate room in the house. When he opened his mouth to protest, she raised her nose a little higher in the air and glared at him.

“Very well,” he clipped out. The three women fell into formation behind him as he weaved through corridors and up stairs.

He finally stopped and scratched lightly at a door. A formidable grunt was the response.

“She’s not at her best in the morning,” he said smugly as he stood aside and ushered them over the threshold. Then the door closed behind them, almost like a harbinger of an upcoming storm. Oh, dear.

The duchess reclined on a large, overstuffed chair, a cup of chocolate resting in her hands. She narrowed her eyes at Rhiannon, who curtsied quickly, with Caitrin and Ginny following in her wake. “Good mornin’, Yer Grace,” Rhiannon began.

“I don’t believe I can remember the last time someone disturbed me at this hour of the day,” the duchess said, her tone biting.

Rhiannon took a deep breath. “Ye did say I could call on ye,” she reminded the duchess.

“I meant at a decent hour.” She raised her brows at Rhiannon, who simply crossed the room to take a chair across from her.

Rhi didn’t care if she hadn’t been invited to sit. She did so, regardless. She heard Cait groan behind her. “I find myself in a bit of a fix.” There was no better time than the present to jump right in. “I’m in need of yer counsel.”

“Indeed,” was all the duchess said.

“It’s about Lord Blodswell,” Rhiannon clarified.

A light began to shine in the old woman’s eyes. “Do tell,” she said.

“Well, ye do remember last night when ye told me what I should do ta win Lord Blodswell?” She didn’t want to say it out loud, not with Caitrin and Ginny standing nearby. She shot them a pointed glance, and they ambled together over to the window, where they pretended to admire a large oak tree.

“Continue.” The duchess waved a hand at her.

Rhiannon continued in hushed tones. “Well, I did. And… we… well… we… we
did
, Yer Grace.” Rhiannon felt the blush rush up her cheeks at her confession.

The duchess laid her cup on the nearby table and faced Rhiannon. “You
did
?”

“Well, we dinna… ye ken… we dinna… do
that
. But we did… Well, we did somethin’ else.”

The duchess smiled and clapped her hands together, which was quite unexpected and made Rhiannon jump. “I am very proud of you,” the duchess exclaimed. “Exactly how far did you…?” Her eyes beseeched Rhiannon to continue.

“Oh, blast and damn,” Rhiannon finally bit out, burying her head in her hands. “I’m still an innocent. But no’ by much.” She said the last between the heels of her hands, which rested against her cheeks.

The old woman’s eyes twinkled with glee. She reached forward and patted Rhiannon’s knee. “I am so happy. That man will take a tumble. And I will be there to witness it all.” Rhiannon wasn’t certain if the duchess was talking to herself or to Rhiannon. So, she just waited, her heart in her throat, for the woman to continue. “He has asked you to marry him, has he not?” she asked for clarification.

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