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Authors: Lydia Dare

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Before she could demand to know what was going on, a striking woman stepped from the great hall.

“Ah, there you are.” The stranger’s voice floated down the hallway once more.

Pretty brown locks billowed scandalously over the woman’s shoulders, nearly shiny from the warm glow of the sconces. The hair on the back of Blaire’s neck stood as the stranger’s dark eyes raked across her.

James’ hand settled low on Blaire’s back. “Why doona ye return ta yer guests, lass?” he whispered in her ear.

And fail to learn what exactly what was going on? Leave him to this woman? Blaire shook her head. “Aiden has it well under control. Why doona ye introduce me ta yer friend?”

“Come in, come in,” directed a rich, disembodied voice from inside the great hall.

Blaire didn’t wait for James to try and dissuade her again. Instead, she steadied her shoulders and started for the threshold. The woman stepped aside to let her pass, though James was directly behind her.

Lounged across the settee, an uncommonly handsome man looked as though he thought he was Caesar upon his throne. There was something so innately dangerous about the man that Blaire’s natural instinct was to engulf him in a ball of flames. She clasped her hands before her to prevent a spark from going off awry. The man’s brow rose in question. “Do forgive us for calling so late,” he drawled. His melodic words flowed over Blaire like heavy syrup, coated with something that could easily bind her wits.

James touched her waist at that moment, dragging her back to reality. Then he spun her around slowly, all the while making it look as though she was a willing participant, until he had gently thrust her behind him. Danger. He
had
warned her, hadn’t he? And she hadn’t listened. James managed to place her between himself and Blodswell, who Blaire didn’t even realize was still there until the earl touched her arm. The pair nearly vibrated with the challenge the newcomers presented. What she wouldn’t give to know what was going on.

James slightly inclined his head in greeting. “It has been an age, Trevelyan.”

The woman swept further into the room with such grace that Blaire almost swore the stranger was floating. Her eyes trailed over James as she slid behind Trevelyan, dropping her arm to his shoulder. “Indeed. It’s been too long, Jamie.”

A smile that was obviously false broke across James’ face. “Sarah, you look lovely as ever. I can’t imagine what has brought you to the Highlands.”

“Can’t you?” One slender, condescending brow rose.

Trevelyan leaned forward in his seat, ignoring the exchange. Confidence nearly rolled from the man in waves. “For a while, Miss Reese and I thought some tragedy must have befallen you.”

Miss Reese tossed her dark, wavy hair over her shoulders, making it appear as though she’d just tumbled out of bed. “I was overcome with worry about you.” Her crisp tone belied the comfortable camaraderie one might find in her words.

Blaire’s mind spun in confusion. Who
were
these interloping vampyres, and what the devil did they want? Oh, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the two new visitors were creatures of the night. If their dark eyes weren’t enough of a clue, it was obvious from their words that the four of them had known each other for many years, even centuries perhaps. A shiver snaked down her spine.

How could she possibly get these dangerous creatures to leave Briarcraig without making Aiden aware of their presence? Without endangering any of the lives of her brother’s dinner party or their newly hired servants? At that moment, she wished desperately for the strength of her coven. How could she protect everyone all by herself? It didn’t seem possible. There was only
one
of her, after all.

Blodswell slid Blaire even further behind him as he stepped forward. “Miss Reese,” he began smoothly, “allow me to take your coat if you plan to stay.”

The woman tipped her head back and laughed lightly. “Taking coats? Oh, what a change in circumstance, Blodswell.”

“We are all equals here,” the earl replied. “No need to stand on ceremony.”

At that statement, the woman leveled her eyes on Blaire. “We’re not
all
equals. I believe you’re beginning to go a bit senile in your old age, Matthew.”

The earl laughed. “Charming as ever, Sarah.”

Sarah. Blaire hated the name instantly. As Blodswell moved closer to the intruding vampyric pair, James grasped Blaire’s hand in his and squeezed with reassurance, which was surprisingly comforting. She wasn’t necessarily all alone, was she? James
was
at her side and Blodswell…? Well, the earl seemed devoted to James. That was something. Hopefully he wasn’t equally devoted to the other pair as well. If so, he couldn’t be counted on. She had so many questions and no answers at all.

Blaire pinched James’ arm to get his attention. “What—” she began with the softest voice possible; but he shook his head, his eyes imploring her to stop talking, and he clutched her tighter to his side.

Perfect. The bloody vampyres apparently had superior hearing, and she couldn’t ask James anything the others wouldn’t overhear. Perhaps if she could just get him alone with her, far enough away for just a moment so the others couldn’t overhear her, she could figure out what they were dealing with.

“Would anyone care for tea?” Blaire asked as inspiration struck her mind. She
could
ask James to go to the kitchen with her. It wasn’t the best solution, just the best she could come up with at the moment.

Mr. Trevelyan smirked, and Sarah Reese laughed out loud, a sound without any true pleasure and full of scorn. “Heavens!” The woman touched a hand to her chest. “She hasn’t been with you long, has she?”

James growled at Blaire’s side. “Some creatures are simply more hospitable than others.”

The smile on the woman’s face fell, and a furious blaze lit her eyes. “Hospitable?” she nearly spat.

“Now, now,” Blodswell soothed, taking a step toward the female vampyre. “It has been so long. Can’t we have a nice conversation without dredging up the past?”

“Ah,” Trevelyan began, rising from his place on the settee, “but the past is all we have, is it not, Blodswell?” His voice had a slight musical quality, and Blaire tried to place his accent. It wasn’t quite English; it was…something else. Welsh, perhaps?

The earl shook his head. “I’d have to disagree. We all, each of us, have a
future
as well, Mr. Trevelyan.”

“Perhaps not all of us,” Sarah Reese countered, settling into the seat her companion had vacated.

“I’m afraid we have been ill-mannered. Miss Lindsay, is it?” Mr. Trevelyan asked, crossing the floor toward Blaire in only two strides.

James slid his arm around Blaire’s waist, securing her to him. “That’s close enough, Trevelyan.”

The man laughed. “For decades you chastised my lack of decorum, Kettering. And now that I’m trying to be
hospitable
, you won’t allow me to make the acquaintance of your little plaything?”

“The fact that you see her as a plaything is reason enough to raise my guard. You don’t need to make her acquaintance. She’s under my protection, and that’s all you need to know.” Blaire’s eyes flashed to back to James.
His protection?
Did he realize what he’d just said?

An evil smirk spread across Trevelyan’s face. “And when you’re gone, who will protect her then?” The corners of his lips tipped up in a hateful smile. “Hmm. And something tells me you haven’t even had her yet.”

Had her?
James released his hold on Blaire and started toward Trevelyan, a murderous expression lighting his eyes, until Blodswell cleared his throat with a subtle warning.

“Come now,” the earl began, “no one will be gone. And Miss Lindsay and her family are also under
my
protection.”

If Trevelyan’s coal-black eyes hadn’t been focused on her, Blaire would have sighed from relief. Blodswell was clearly James’ ally, and that did make her feel a bit better about their circumstances. She only wished she knew
what
those circumstances were.

“Gallant knight to the end, eh?” Trevelyan asked.

Gallant knight?
Blaire’s eyes shot toward Blodswell. Had he been a knight? Had he been
the
knight of the legend? More questions that would go unanswered until she could get James alone.

“The end is not here.” Blodswell smiled. “Not yet anyway. And certainly not tonight. Your little disagreement with each other has gone on long enough. Don’t you think it’s time it was laid to rest?”

“Exactly what I have planned,” Trevelyan answered.

“Blaire?” Brannock bellowed from the corridor.

She sucked in a breath at the sound.

“Is that a child?” Sarah Reese rose from her spot. “Oh, how delightful.” Her incisors lowered, confirming Blaire’s suspicion that the woman was indeed a vampyre.

Before she could react, James thrust Blaire into Blodswell’s arms, and, within the blink of an eye, he had Sarah Reese by the throat. He’d moved so fast it was a blur. “You will not touch one hair on his head,” James threatened. “Everyone within these walls is mine.”


Havers!
” Brannock chose that moment to enter the great hall. His silver eyes widened at the sight of James with his hands around a strange woman’s neck. Blodswell released Blaire so she could clutch her little brother to herself. Even so, the earl hovered over both of them protectively.

“Bran,” Blaire hissed, “what are ye doin’ here?”

He gulped. Brannock was as much in the dark as Blaire was. But even he seemed to grasp the severity of the situation. “Aiden sent me ta check on ye,” he whispered back.

Trevelyan laughed heartily, which didn’t make any sense. There was nothing humorous at all about the situation. She and Brannock were terrified. James still held Trevelyan’s companion by her throat. How could he laugh? Was the man mad?

“Blodswell is right. For now,” Trevelyan announced as though he was king. “Release Sarah, and we’ll be on our way.”

James dropped his hand, though he held his ground, staring at the woman before him. “Do not return.”

Sarah Reese tossed her head back regally, and her long hair bounced over her shoulders. She stepped around the baron and toward her companion. Then she glanced back at James. “You hold no power over me, over either of us, and I find I’m enjoying the Highlands quite a bit.”

Before anyone could respond, another blur of color appeared as Trevelyan and Sarah flashed past them, out the front door of Briarcraig. Brannock held tightly to Blaire’s hand. “Did ye see her teeth?” he asked. “They looked like the Fergusons’ hound. Long and pointy.” He shivered dramatically.

“Aye.” Blaire squeezed his shoulder. Then she rose to her full height and met James’ eye across the room. “Tell Aiden I’ll be there in a minute. First I need ta speak with Lord Kettering.”

James shook his head. “Go back to dinner, Blaire. We’ll talk once your guests have all departed. Our conversation will be a long one.”

Fifteen

Blaire followed Brannock down the corridor toward the dining hall. Her younger brother stopped mid-step and looked up at Blaire, confusion and a little fear still evident on his face.

“Who were those people, Blaire?” Brannock asked.

She didn’t have any idea what to say.
Well, I’m no’ sure, Bran. But I think they were evil vampyres, no’ ta be confused with the good vampyres, or at least I think they’re good vampyres, currently in our great hall.
No, that wouldn’t do. “Someone Lord Kettering kent a long time ago,” she said instead.

“I dinna like them.” Brannock shuddered. “That woman. She looked mean.”

Mean and vicious, indeed. Blaire couldn’t let Brannock re-enter the dining hall with those awful thoughts filling his head. She smoothed a hand across his brow. “I’m certain we willna see the pair ever again.” And she prayed that was the truth. “Doona worry. Ye ken I would never let any harm come ta ye.”

“Her teeth…” Brannock let his voice trail off.

Her teeth. The same pointy teeth that were so similar to James’. Blaire frowned at her brother. “We should no’ judge people by their appearances, Bran.”

“Ah, Miss Lindsay.” Malcolm Fraser stepped into the corridor from the dining hall. “I am so glad ta have found ye. The next course needs ta be served. Do ye ken if there are other guests?”

Blaire shook her head. “No, Malcolm. In fact, it will just be Brannock and myself returnin’.”

“Very good, Miss.” The new footman nodded, and then he opened the door to the dining hall. “I’ll see ta the next course right away.”

Blaire directed Brannock back to his seat and slid, once more, into her spot beside Alec MacQuarrie.

“Is everythin’ all right?” Aiden asked, frowning.

Nothing was all right. Not one blasted thing. Blaire smiled and nodded. “Of course,” she lied. “I just thought ta let Kettering and Blodswell reacquaint themselves with their friends.” She shot Brannock a look, making it clear that any contradiction would not be appreciated.

“Did ye invite everyone in for dinner? We have plenty.”

Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside Blaire, but she tamped it down. Inviting Sarah Reese and Mr. Trevelyan in for dinner was the last thing any sane person would do. She shook her head. “They’ve already dined.” Then she glanced around the table at her brother’s guests. “I am truly sorry for all the confusion and interruptions this evenin’.”

“Think nothing of it, lass.” Alec smiled in her direction, though the look didn’t truly reach his eyes. “As long as all is well.”

But all was not well for Alec. Blaire’s heart clenched for her old friend. To one who didn’t know him, Alec would appear as a gentleman who possessed all of life’s fortunes. But he wasn’t that man, not anymore, if he ever had been. After all, he never had truly possessed Cait, had he? “I received a letter from Elspeth a couple days before we headed for Briarcraig.”

Alec nodded. “I saw Benjamin and Elspeth sometime ago in London. She seemed to be getting along well.”

Blaire shrugged. “Do ye ken if Benjamin’s family was welcomin’? I ken she was anxious ta meet them.”

Footmen began placing dishes of salmon in whisky sauce before all the guests, and Blaire took a relieved breath. The food did smell wonderful. The faster everyone finished their meals, the faster they could leave. That wasn’t the most hospitable thought, but getting through this meal would be torture when all she really wanted was to get answers from James Maitland.

“Elspeth has nothing to worry about,” Alec confided as soon as the table had been served. “The Westfields will adore her. After all,” his warm brown eyes twinkled, “she puts up with Benjamin. I’m sure Blackmoor will have the lass put in for sainthood.”

Blaire giggled. “He’s no’ that bad.” Not that she ever would have dreamed she’d come to Benjamin Westfield’s defense. When she’d first met the Lycan, she’d disliked him instantly. Though, in all honesty, she’d really just disliked the fact that he’d come to steal one of her coven sisters away. But in the months since, she’d learned to accept and had even came to like the boyish werewolf, not that she ever intended to admit as much to him.

“Finally won you over, did he?”

Blaire shrugged. “He grows on ye.”

“He does indeed,” Alec agreed before sampling the main course.

Mrs. Fraser was a dream come true. Wherever the cook had learned her skills, Blaire was eternally thankful. The salmon literally fell off her fork, and the flavors were like nothing Blaire had ever tasted. Fortunately, dinner had the same effect on their guests, and Blaire had to endure very little in the way of conversation. After finishing off a helping of black buns for dessert, the men were ready for their port.

Blaire rose from her seat and feigned a smile for the Fyfe sisters. “Would ye care ta join me for tea?”

Heather and Crissa rose from their chairs. They mumbled some parting words to the gentlemen and then followed Blaire down one of the corridors toward a cheery, yellow parlor. “We were so glad ye were able ta join us for dinner,” Blaire said as soon as she’d handed the sisters each a cup of tea.

Heather sat forward on a golden settee, her green eyes narrowing on Blaire. “I get the feelin’ somethin’ strange is goin’ on around here, Miss Lindsay.”

That was an understatement, and not one Blaire was going to confirm. “Indeed? And here I thought ye were so focused on my brother ye dinna have time ta worry about anythin’ else.”

Crissa Fyfe giggled.

Heather shot her sister a quelling glance. “I hardly think my interest has been so noticeable, Miss Lindsay.”

“And yet I
have
noticed, Miss Fyfe. So ye clearly are mistaken.”

This time Crissa contained her laugh.

Heather took a deep breath, and then her shoulders sagged forward. “Have I been that obvious?”

And then some. Blaire shrugged instead. “He’s a man, Miss Fyfe. Odds are ye’d have ta hit him upside the head for
him
ta notice. They’re a thick-headed lot.”

Crissa frowned at that and then took a long sip of her tea. “How do ye ken so much about men, Miss Lindsay?”

“I’ve grown up with Aiden. I ken how he thinks.”

That seemed to make sense to the girl, and she nodded in response. “Is that it? Ye have ta ken how they think?”

“What exactly are ye askin’ me, Miss Crissa?”

The younger girl bit her bottom lip, but then she continued. “At dinner, ye had every single man’s attention. Lord Kettering. Lord Blodswell. Mr. MacQuarrie. Is it because ye ken how they think?”

Blaire took a sip of her own tea to give her time to answer. What was she to say to that?
Alec is just watchful because he thinks a monster is after me. And while James is a monster, I don’t believe it’s him. Blodswell, is just keeping an eye on me.
No, they’d think she’d lost her mind. And they might be right. “I’ve kent them a long time is all,” she lied. “They’re all like brothers, in a way.”

“What can ye tell me about Captain Lindsay?” Heather Fyfe’s green eyes implored Blaire to give her something useful. “How do I get his attention?”

Blaire was fairly certain the lass already had it, but she decided to offer a bit of assistance anyway. After all, if Aiden was occupied with thoughts of Heather Fyfe, he might not pay too much attention to the vampyres invading their residence. “He has a sweet tooth,” she offered. “Do ye bake well, Miss Fyfe?”

Crissa giggled again. “She’s terrible.” Then she sobered at her sister’s quelling glance. “But I’m proficient enough. I’ll see what I can whip up for ye.” Crissa then speared Blaire with a look of her own. “They’re all like yer brothers, ye say?”

Blaire nodded. “Aye.”

The lass grinned. “Then what can ye tell me about Lord Kettering?”

That he’s mine!
Blaire choked on her own tongue. Why had she said something so utterly foolish?
They’re all like brothers, in a way.
What a ridiculous thing to have said.

“Does he have a sweet tooth, too?” Crissa asked, hope filling her blue eyes.

Aye, he had two of them. Though the sight would probably send both Fyfe sisters running for cover. Blaire took a steadying breath and very calmly returned her cup to her saucer. Giving insight into Aiden’s tiny mind was one thing, but James? She was not about to give up one bit of useful information. Blaire shook her head. “Trust me, ye doona want ta focus any of yer attention on Lord Kettering.”

“Why no’?”

“He’s a bit of an ogre,” Blaire lied. Then inspiration struck. She could actually tell the truth, or part of it anyway. “I ken he looked dashin’ at dinner, but he’s been kent ta go forever without bathin’. Quite disgustin’ ta be honest.”

The young blond turned up her nose. “Truly? He seemed so…clean.”

“We actually had ta burn a set of his clothes just ta get rid of the odor.”

Before she could continue to fill Crissa Fyfe’s ear with less than complimentary tales about James, the parlor door opened, and Aiden, Mr. Fyfe, and Alec rejoined them. Hmm. They hadn’t been gone terribly long. Perhaps her brother couldn’t stand to be separated from Heather Fyfe any longer than was necessary.

As Aiden made his way toward the Fyfe sisters, Blaire found herself in Alec’s company. “I think your brother is a bit besotted with Miss Fyfe,” he confided softly.

Blaire giggled. “Aye. And she has most definitely set her cap for him.”

Alec sighed. “Well, then I wish him the best of luck. Works much better when the lass returns your affections.”

Any fool could see the pain Alec suffered from. Poor man. Blaire still couldn’t believe Cait had married some stranger. Still, she’d never known Cait to do something without reason. If her friend had married this Brimsworth fellow, she must have seen it, must have known he was her destiny. But even so, seeing Alec suffer tore at her heart. Blaire reached for Alec’s hand and squeezed it with her own. “I am sorry. I wish I had somethin’ more than my condolences ta offer.”

Alec looked down at their clasped hands. “She kept saying she wasn’t for me.”

Then she wasn’t, but Blaire couldn’t bring herself to say the words, not when he looked so forlorn. “Cait always could drive one ta the edge of insanity.” She laughed, hoping to cheer him a bit. “Poor Sorcha has begged her for the last year ta tell her what the future has in store for her, but Cait willna say a word. Rhiannon gave up hope of even a clue long ago.”

Alec’s warm brown eyes focused on Blaire. “She won’t tell any of you your futures?”

Blaire shook her head. “Doin’ so could jeopardize the natural course of events. It’s no’ fair of us ta ask her, but still it does make ye wonder what she sees in yer future. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it somethin’ ye never would have guessed?” Something like a big, strapping vampyre for example.

“Wouldn’t it be comforting to know?” Alec whispered.

Blaire shrugged. “Perhaps, but if it’s no’ what ye’re hopin’ for, it can be disheartenin’ as well.”

“And is she always right? Has a seer never been wrong?”

“I’m no’ certain.” Blaire released Alec’s hand and folded her arms across her middle.

“What does that mean?”

Blaire shook her head. Cait’s mother
had
been wrong at least once that they knew of, or she had lied about her vision. Neither of which was comforting. “Too much knowledge about yer future is dangerous. Trustin’ too much in a vision is dangerous. It’s best just ta live yer life the way ye feel it should be lived.”

Alec rose to his full height. He clearly couldn’t understand all of this. “Then what is the point of even seeing the future?”

“Well, sometimes the natural course of events needs a little help.” Was that what the previous coven had done with James? What had they seen about him that would inspire them to lock him up? The image of Sarah Reese and Mr. Trevelyan flashed again in her mind. What if the reason James had been trapped had something to do with the malevolent pair she’d met earlier that evening? James Maitland had a lot of explaining to do about that situation.

She must have frowned or looked off, because Alec leaned in closer. “Something else on your mind, Blaire?” his asked, his gaze full of concern.

Blaire frowned. “I was just thinkin’ about Kettering.” She must sound as besotted as Heather Fyfe. In all honesty, she probably was, but at the moment, her overriding concern was wondering what sort of danger she and her brothers were in because of the vampyre.

Alec sighed. “Why don’t you go check on him?”

“Because Aiden will slowly murder me if I abandon his guests again.”

With a nod of his head, Alec gestured to where Aiden and Heather Fyfe sat side by side on the settee, speaking in hushed tones. “I can’t imagine he’ll notice your absence, Blaire. And I can entertain Miss Crissa. No one will be left unattended.”

She smiled at him again. “Ye really are wonderful, Alec.”

He winked at her. “Go on.”

“If Aiden asks where I’ve gone, will ye just tell him I’ve retired early?” The last thing she wanted was her brother interrupting her interrogation of their vampyre guest.

Alec shook his head. “It’s really too bad you aren’t feeling well, Blaire. Perhaps you should retire a little early this evening.”

If they weren’t in a room full of guests, she would have kissed his cheek.

***

James paced back and forth across the great hall while he waited for Blaire to return from her social responsibilities. Meanwhile, Matthew lounged in a settee as though he didn’t have a care in the world. How could he be so relaxed? Did such ease stem from living six hundred and fifty years?

“Sit down,” his maker said. “Wearing a path in the rug won’t do you any good.”

James scowled at his friend and increased his pace. At the very least, Matthew could help him think of a plan. What in the world were they going to do? After all, they didn’t have many options. They were connected to Sarah, and, though they had no desire to be in such close proximity, she and Trevelyan would not retreat any time soon.

Blaire stormed back into the room and slammed the door shut behind her. “All right, ye
will
explain, Kettering!” she snapped. Fury made her all the more lovely. He absently shook the thought away.

BOOK: It Happened One Bite
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