chapter Four
Alec MacQuarrie stepped out of the tavern and looked up at the night sky. He’d needed only moments of surveying the taproom to realize that an adequate dinner would not be possible tonight. At least not at The Knight’s Arms. Being a vampyre was a damned nuisance, especially when one was a gentleman beneath all the darkness.
Life would be so much easier if he had fewer scruples, or perhaps if he had the ability to block out the feelings of the whore who was to be his meal. But to his dismay, when he took from a woman and allowed a bond to be created between them, when he sealed his mouth over her skin and drank her in, he took in too many harmful emotions along with her life-giving blood. Despair coursed through Alec in those moments, so he avoided unfamiliar chits at all costs.
At least at his club in London, the Cyprians were accustomed to his idiosyncrasies. The women at Brysi would let him drink his fill in exchange for pleasure and coin. They no longer expected more than he was able to give, and they didn’t need to be enchanted. He hated usurping a woman’s free will, which is what he would be doing if he spent any more time inside The Knight’s Arms with his traveling companions.
He’d lost track of the Hadley twins almost as soon as they’d entered the establishment. They’d set their sights on two pretty little wenches who seemed determined to fight over which one of them would get to tup the one with the scar. What was alluring about having been branded by a vampyre, Alec had no idea. Yet something apparently was.
Bexley had settled at a table with local fellows involved in what appeared to be faro. Radbourne had somehow disappeared. And Alec was bored out of his mind.
As his foot hit the top step, a gentle wind came up to brush the hair from his forehead, and along with it came the scent of apple blossoms. Apple blossoms? Why did that scent seem so familiar? He racked his brain, trying to remember where he’d last smelled that delightful aroma.
Just thinking about it made his mouth water.
Then he heard her giggle.
Alec spun around quickly and looked into the darkness.
His excellent vision didn’t let him down. He saw the back of a nearby coach that was stopped outside a tiny bookstore.
And standing in its shadows was a lass. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, though he didn’t need to do so.
He wouldn’t mistake Sorcha for anything. That was her scent. That was her lovely hair piled atop her head. That was her… touching Radbourne? By God, she was! Alec was across the street in the blink of an eye. He stood behind the coach and listened, hoping to hear their conversation for a moment before ripping the mutt’s limbs from his body, simply because he had let Sorcha touch him.
Alec froze in place.
“It is a sad day when gentlemen must resort to eavesdropping, is it not, Miss Ferguson?” he heard Radbourne ask Sorcha.
“Eavesdroppin’? That’s a terrible practice. One I never indulge in unless I absolutely have ta ken somethin’ that no one will tell me about.” Alec heard her giggle and felt a grin tip the corners of his own mouth.
“There are things that people refuse to discuss with you?”
Radbourne asked. “Such as?”
“Such as what it’s like ta kiss a Lycan,” Sorcha said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“What a travesty.” Radbourne’s voice deepened. “Shall I show you?”
That was it. That was all Alec could possibly take. He couldn’t stand on the opposite side of the coach and let Radbourne introduce Sorcha to passion. And he had no doubt this would be her introduction. He strode quickly around the coach and stopped in his tracks. The pair of them stood there laughing at him.
“It’s ill-mannered to eavesdrop, MacQuarrie,” Radbourne said. A good six feet of space separated the Lycan and Sorcha. Thank God.
“What’s even more ill-mannered is to have her out in the dead of night without a chaperone,” Alec clarified. He took Sorcha’s elbow and turned her to face him. “What the devil do you think you’re doing, Sorch?” he asked. “Your reputation will be in shreds if one word of this gets out.” He opened the door of the coach and made a motion to usher her inside. But a foot fell out of the door instead. A man’s foot. Which was solidly attached to a leg. What the hell?
Radbourne shrugged. “He’s a big man. I’m afraid it was nearly impossible to fit his body in such a small space without folding him.”
Sorcha giggled. “Looks as though he’s come unfolded.”
“That much is obvious,” Radbourne said, a chuckle behind his words.
“Who is that?” Alec ground out.
“He’s no’ dead,” Sorcha said, almost as though she was put out by his questions.
“I’m well aware of that,” Alec ground out. “I can hear his heart beating.”
“She knows what you are?” Radbourne asked, his voice incredulous.
“I ken everythin’,” Sorcha said. Then she immediately bit her lip at the scathing glance Alec sent her. “Well, I ken a lot.” Then she clarified again. “I ken enough. Just barely enough.”
“She knows what I am too,” Radbourne said casually as he leaned against the coach.
“She knows enough to get herself in heaps of trouble,” Alec countered. Would his entire holiday be spent removing Sorcha from sticky situations? Evidently it would. He inhaled deeply and faced Radbourne. “Your services are no longer needed. You may go.” He raised an eyebrow at the Lycan. “And I trust that you value your skin enough that you will not tell anyone of this impromptu encounter.”
Radbourne pushed away from the coach with a groan.
“What encounter?”
“Exactly,” Alec returned.
He could almost hear the words in Sorcha’s mouth before she spit them out. “What if I tell someone? What then?”
Infuriating little witch. Alec had no idea what to do with her. “Then one of us could be forced to marry you. Or see you ruined.”
“And since I was with you first…” Radbourne said.
Sorcha’s eyes grew wide. “It’s that simple? Truly? Ta catch a beast of my very own, I simply have ta let him compromise me?” She put her hands on her hips and tossed Radbourne a saucy grin. “Then consider yerself compromised, Lord Radbourne. Shall we race for Gretna?”
Alec’s mouth fell open. Damn if she wouldn’t kill him, which wasn’t an easy task as he was already dead. But then amusement broke across her features and she laughed until she had to wipe tears from her eyes. Thank God, she’d been teasing. Still it left him ill-humored.
“I’d like to know why this is so amusing to you,” Alec said, sounding like an old spinster aunt to his own ears. He would have a soft spot for old spinster aunts from this day forward. The poor dears must be the most put-upon souls in the land.
When Sorcha had caught her breath, she said, “Because I have an unconscious groom in the carriage. And I have a Lycan scoundrel who couldn’t be considered a scoundrel at all, or at least not with me, because I had him carry a body and ruined any chance he’d find me enchanting. And I have a vampyre who’s playin’ nursemaid.” She wiped at her eyes again. “Ta me, that’s quite amusin’.”
“Who’s to say you ruined any chance with me, Miss Ferguson?”
“Oh, ye may call me Sorcha, Lord Radbourne,” she said with a breezy wave of her hand.
“He may do no such thing!” Alec growled.
“In that case, Sorcha,” Radbourne drawled, “do call me Archer.”
No, Alec had no choice. He would have to murder the Lycan right here, right now. “Absolutely not! There are some lines that should not be crossed.”
Sorcha narrowed her eyes at him. “Why no’? Ye seem ta be crossin’ one or more of them at this very moment, Alec.”
“Who else would protect the Lycans of the world from you, Sorcha?”
An infuriating smile lit her lips. “Does he look like he needs protectin’ from me?” She turned to Radbourne. “Do ye fear me at all, Archer?”
Alec bristled at the use of the man’s Christian name.
“Not a bit,” Radbourne replied smoothly.
“Oh, you should fear her,” Alec said. He shook his head in dismay. God, he already feared her. “You may go, Radbourne. I’ll see her back to the castle.”
“Is that what you want, Sorcha?” the Lycan asked, and Alec was certain that was just to needle him.
“Well, I assume my plans for the night have been thwarted by my nursemaid,” she said, flicking her wrist in a most annoyed manner at Alec.
“We will discuss your plans,” Alec bit out, “as soon as we’re alone.”
She put her hands on those hips again, and he had an absurd wish that his hands were holding her hips instead.
“Oh, ye can feel certain we will discuss it, Alec.”
Blast and damn. He was trying to save her virtue. Why on earth did she have to look so annoyed with him? She’d called him her nursemaid, for God’s sake. Well, he might as well play the part.
Alec scowled in Radbourne’s direction until the blasted Lycan tipped his head in farewell. “Until tomorrow, sweetheart,” the wolfling said and then he started off toward The Knight’s Arms.
Tomorrow was several hours off, and Alec would have to make sure Sorcha had regained some sense before her eyes landed again on the Lycan or his younger brothers.
“Well, I hope ye’re satisfied.” Sorcha folded her arms across her chest. “It wasna easy gettin’ all the way ta Folkestone alone.”
Most likely not, especially for a lass who didn’t have the power of enchantment the way he did. “Well, what does that tell you, Sorch? That perhaps you should have stayed at Castle Hythe like you were supposed to?”
Her dark locks bounced as she shook her head. “If somethin’ is worth havin’, it’s worth workin’ for.”
She sounded just like her father. Always a man of business, even though a gentleman. Alec sighed. How could one reason with Sorcha? How could one get her to see the danger she’d put herself in? He’d probably have a better idea if he had a sister of his own. As it was, he had no clue. “Well, you’ll have to work on it some other time. I’m taking you back.”
Sorcha sighed and reached for the carriage door. “I’m pretty sure Johnny is out for the night.”
Alec pushed on the door to keep her from opening it. “Sit up in the box with me, and we can continue our conversation.” Perhaps inspiration would strike him before they reached Castle Hythe.