Never Been Bit (2 page)

And the only Lycans that would be present at Eynsford Park aside from that blasted marquess were Eynsford’s
relations
, whom Alec was fairly certain were the man’s brothers, or half brothers, as the case might be. Viscount Radbourne and the wild Hadley twins. Three of the most depraved men in all of Britain. They were walking scandals.

They were trouble. They were
dead
if even one of them felt the urge to claim Sorcha.

He glanced back over his shoulder at the little witch. A horrified expression still lingered on her face. Well, he was feeling just as horrified. Alec was back in front of her in a flash.

“Do you mean to say,” he whispered so softly that no one but she could possibly hear him, “you were hoping to catch yourself one of those drooling beasts?”

Her horror quickly grew into indignation. “They doona drool.”

Blast it, she did hope to catch one! “Oh, I happen to know they do,” Alec grumbled.

Sorcha heaved a sigh as though he was the most troublesome man in existence. Then without a word, she spun on her heel and stalked off toward some unknown destination.

Alec was only a step behind her. “Have you lost your mind? Those creatures aren’t for you. I can’t believe your father would approve.”

She paid him no attention as she burst into a drawing room. Inside on a small divan, a young blonde in a green habit smiled at their entrance.

“There you are,” the chit gushed, rising from her seat. “I’m having our mounts readied, and—” She blushed crimson when she spotted Alec. “H-hello,” she stammered.

Sorcha thrust her arm backward as though to deny his existence. “Pay him no mind, Maddie.”

Stubborn little witch! Where had she gotten it in her mind that she should saddle herself with a bloody Lycan? What the devil was so enticing about the beasts? “Sorcha, I’m not done speaking with you.”

“Pity,” she bit out. “I’m done speakin’ with ye.”

“Ah!” a crackly voice came from the corridor. “Mr. MacQuarrie, I am so glad you accepted my invitation.” The Duchess of Hythe, a dragon of the first order, stepped into the drawing room. Her icy blue eyes raked over Alec as though she was admiring his form.

He gulped. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

The duchess gestured to the blond chit. “Have you met my granddaughter?”

Not unless one considered Sorcha’s “Pay him no mind, Maddie,” an introduction. “I’m afraid I haven’t.”

Her Grace rose to her full height and beckoned her granddaughter forward. “Mr. Alec MacQuarrie, this is Lady Madeline Hayburn and her delightful friend, Miss Ferguson.”

“We’ve met,” Alec growled. At the duchess’ imperious expression, he softened his voice and amended, “That is, Miss Ferguson and I are old acquaintances.”

“Neighbors in Edinburgh,” Sorcha clarified as though to distance herself from him even further.

The duchess shifted her gaze to the lass who still had her back to Alec. “You are so well connected, Sorcha,” she replied in a very congenial tone, not one usually associated with the Duchess of Hythe. Had Sorcha managed to charm the old dragon too? Apparently. The woman had called her by her Christian name.

Of course, Sorcha had that effect on everyone. Anyone who came near her adored her. And… his eyes lowered to her perfectly rounded bottom, which he’d never noticed before. He could easily move his hand to caress her if he was of a mind to do so.

Damn it all to hell! Those bloody Lycans would be all over her in an instant. She’d get her wish in that regard, but she wouldn’t be happy with the outcome. In the last few months, his path had unfortunately crossed that of the Hadley brothers on more than one occasion. A more degenerate group of men didn’t exist.

Poor Sorcha wouldn’t realize that until it was too late, however. She was sweet and innocent and… out of her bloody mind if she thought he would stand by and let her literally throw herself to the wolves. Especially
those
damned wolves. Eynsford’s pack. His stomach roiled at the very thought.

“Sorcha, if I might have a word alone with you,” Alec said to the wood sprite.

She glanced back over her shoulder at him, and Alec forgot what he was going to say. When had her eyes become that bedeviling? She blinked, her long lashes sweeping across her cheeks. Freckles. Why had he never realized she had freckles? It made him wonder if she had those little spots of color all over. Dear God. Now all he’d be able to think about was what marks the little witch wore on her most sensitive places.

The Duchess of Hythe raised her eyebrows. Well, she raised one of them. The other one scrunched up in a most offended fashion. “Is this a word that cannot be shared with the rest of us, Mr. MacQuarrie?” she asked.

He opened his mouth, however nothing but a croaking sound came out. He closed it. He must resemble a fish. A very uncomfortable fish. He’d hoped to save Sorcha from Lycans, and instead he’d somehow turned into a blasted salmon.

“If he shared the word, Yer Grace,” Sorcha piped up, “then it wouldna be a surprise.” She looked up at Alec, and her eyes danced at him in warning. He would kill her. Or kiss her. He wasn’t certain which.

“A surprise?” the duchess gasped as she laid a hand on her chest. Her flesh jiggled at the edge of her bodice. “For me?”

He swung his gaze to Sorcha’s bodice. Definitely a better view. In fact, it was one he couldn’t take his eyes off.

“Mr. MacQuarrie?” the duchess prompted.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Alec said with a small bow, ripping his gaze from Sorcha’s person. “If I told you, the surprise would be ruined.”

The shrewd old woman’s eyes narrowed. Then she giggled. That old matriarch giggled like a girl still in the schoolroom. “I do so love a surprise.” She clapped her hands together with glee. “May I have just a hint?” She held her fingers up with about an inch of space between them and looked at him as though he’d hung the moon and stars.

“Grandmamma,” the little blonde said. She had a name.

But Alec would be damned if he could remember it. Not with Sorcha standing directly beside her. “Let the man have his fun. It appears as though he and Miss Ferguson have been in one another’s pockets for quite some time.”

“Young man, if I find you anywhere near Miss Ferguson’s pockets, I will—” the duchess began.

“Yer Grace!” Sorcha protested. “He has never been anywhere
near
my pockets. I can assure you it’s the furthest thing from his mind.”

But it wasn’t, though he felt more comfortable keeping that to himself.

The duchess held up one hand to stop Sorcha’s diatribe.

“If I find you anywhere near Miss Ferguson’s pockets…” she said as she threaded her arm through his and started down the corridor, leading him along. The duchess dropped her voice down to a conciliatory whisper. “…I will be most delighted.”

Good God. Now he had Sorcha to watch after
and
a surprise for the duchess to create out of thin air. If that wasn’t bad enough, Her Grace had him thinking lascivious thoughts. And she clearly wasn’t at all ashamed for having placed them in his mind.

The duchess reached for his lapel. “Where did you get that flower, Mr. MacQuarrie?” she asked. “It’s quite remarkable.”

He wasn’t wearing a flower. Well, he hadn’t been a few minutes earlier. He glanced down at his jacket to find the happiest white orchid peeking out of his buttonhole. Alec looked back over his shoulder to find Sorcha grinning at him. That little witch was trouble. Beautiful, beguiling trouble.

Chapter Two

“Why were you quarreling with Mr. MacQuarrie?” Maddie asked as a groom helped her onto her sidesaddle.

Sorcha, already atop her spirited chestnut, tossed her head back to look at the clouds as though she hadn’t heard her friend’s question and let the sun warm her skin. After all, what was she to say?
Well, the irritable vampyre doesn’t care for werewolves since one stole the love of his life last year
. Hardly. She might as well ride for London and admit herself to Bedlam. She lowered her head, smoothed her hand over her horse’s neck, and cooed to the animal.

“There you are, milady.” The groom took a step backward and smiled at Maddie. “Don’t go too far. You know how Her Grace worries.”

“Thank you, Johnny.” Maddie urged her bay closer to Sorcha. “But there’s no need for concern. Miss Ferguson and I will be careful.”

The lad nodded and then started back for the stables.

Maddie’s green eyes twinkled when they landed on Sorcha. “I
know
you heard me. Am I to take from your silence that you don’t wish to discuss your handsome neighbor?”

Sorcha looked down at her reins and shook her head. “It was nothin’ important, Maddie. Mr. MacQuarrie and I simply doona see eye ta eye about the Marquess of Eynsford.”

That, at least, was the truth.

Despite Alec’s assertion that she had lost her mind, Sorcha felt a tug of guilt in her heart. She hadn’t meant to blurt out Eynsford’s name, and she couldn’t quite forget the look of pure torture that had flashed across Alec’s face when the name left her lips. If she could have snatched the words back, she would have done so. Poor Alec had been devastated when Cait chose Eynsford over him.

They started toward the west side of the property at a slow trot, and Maddie sent Sorcha a sidelong glance. “Your neighbor is in good company then. Grandmamma is a bit wary of the marquess as well. He was quite estranged from his father before the old man’s passing. Did you know?”

Yes, Sorcha was quite aware of Eynsford’s rift with his father, or at least the man all of society believed to be his father; but that was neither here nor there. She shrugged her response. “Many men choose paths their fathers do not agree with.”

Maddie agreed with a nod. “True. Papa has been quite put out with Nathaniel and Robert most of their lives. What about your Mr. MacQuarrie?”

“
My
Mr. MacQuarrie?” Sorcha somehow managed to keep from tumbling from her seat. She’d never thought of Alec in those terms before.

Maddie giggled. “Does he follow his father’s path? Or is he more the rebellious sort like my brothers?”

She’d heard quite the scandalous tales about the Earl of Bexley and Lord Robert Hayburn ever since she’d befriended Maddie, always in very hushed tones, however, to keep anyone else from hearing. Their exploits certainly didn’t sound like Alec, at least not the man she’d once known. “He always pleased his father who, alas, has since passed on,” Sorcha replied.

“Hmm,” Maddie mused. “I simply cannot understand his arrival at Castle Hythe.”

What was there to understand? Hadn’t the duchess invited more than a dozen eligible gentlemen for Maddie to meet? “For ye ta become acquainted with, I’m certain.”

“No.” Maddie shook her head. “He’s not one of
those
gentlemen.”

Her friend had Sorcha’s complete attention. “Why do ye say that?”

Maddie shrugged as though the answer was clear.

“Because, you goose, he’s not titled.”

Not titled? That was hardly a deterrent as far as Alec was concerned. Sorcha gaped at her friend. “I assure ye, his fortune is one of the grandest in all of Scotland.” Not to mention he was one of the most handsome men of Sorcha’s acquaintance. And kind and generous.

Maddie certainly shouldn’t discount him so easily simply because of his lack of a title. No, the better reason to discount Alec would be that he was incapable of loving anyone other than Cait. But most marriages weren’t love matches, and he was admirable in every other way, even for a vampyre.

Maddie grinned. “I’m sure it is, Sorcha. That’s not what I meant. It’s only that Grandmamma has been adamant that I’ll marry a peer. All the others either already possess their titles or are their fathers’ heirs apparent.”

Sorcha hadn’t realized that. How had that fact escaped her? She frowned. “Well, I doona ken then, Maddie. Perhaps Mr. MacQuarrie has other business with yer grandmother.”

“Perhaps,” her friend agreed, and then she cocked her head to one side as if she was contemplating something.

“He doesn’t sound Scottish.”

Sorcha shrugged. “Doona let him hear ye say that.” At Maddie’s confused expression, Sorcha took pity on her.

“Alec is English educated,” she explained. “He left Edinburgh at twelve, but he returned home often enough.”

“Oh.” Maddie nodded. “I suppose that explains it.” Then she pointed at a large tree off in the distance. “Race you to that oak over there.”

Sorcha agreed with a nod, but her mind was still on their conversation and her heart simply wasn’t in the race. She followed in her friend’s wake, reaching the specified tree well after Maddie had already arrived. Why
had
Alec been invited to Castle Hythe? The mystery would remain, as she couldn’t very well ask the duchess, but she’d keep her eyes open and see if she couldn’t learn the truth for herself.

~*~

“She’s a delightful chit, isn’t she?” Nathaniel Hayburn, the Earl of Bexley, broke into Alec’s thoughts as he watched from the library window while Sorcha and her friend rode across the meadow.

“Aye,” Alec replied, though he wasn’t certain which
she
they were discussing. He stepped away from his position near the window and sauntered toward the middle of the room where the Englishman had dropped into an overstuffed leather chair.

Bexley grinned roguishly. “But Grandmother has threatened to sever both my hands if I even consider touching her.”

So the earl wasn’t discussing his sister then. Alec managed not to frown at the dissolute nobleman. He knew Bexley more by reputation than from sight, but what he did know was more than enough to make Alec certain the earl was not the man for innocent, enchanting Sorcha. Damn if she didn’t need a keeper. If it wasn’t because of her inane fascination with Lycans, then it was due to debauched Englishmen’s fascination with her, not that he could blame the man. She
was
delightful.

“Your grandmother is a formidable woman. I certainly wouldn’t want to cross her.” Thank God the old woman had taken Sorcha under her wing, if for no other reason than to keep Bexley at bay.

The earl laughed. “You have the right of it, MacQuarrie. And she does hold the purse strings. Even Father is terrified of angering her.” Bexley rested his head against the back of the chair. “So I shall endeavor to find other pursuits to occupy my time in godforsaken Kent.”