“Not on your life.” Countenance stormy now that he saw what hell might await them if they ever caught up to Izzy, he nodded toward Mina and the duke. “You enjoy yourself. Friedrich says Rathbone is a nice piece of work.” He strode off after Gregoravich.
Mikhail followed behind Mina as Friedrich led their party to the door. He couldn’t help but admire the svelte line of her neck. He preferred when she wore her hair down, but he also enjoyed getting a full view of her moon-white skin, reminding him too well how it felt beneath his fingers, his lips.
He was well and truly caught. With the Black Lily having fallen—on a night when he should’ve been more on guard, not absorbed in Mina—he tried to maintain focus on their goal. And yet, he knew that was impossible. He could no longer look at her and see anything but a woman he longed for even more than he cared to avenge his family’s betrayal that stretched back long before he was born. None of it seemed to have meaning when she stood within his sight. All that mattered was…Mina.
The door swung open, snapping Mikhail from his trance. A waif of a man with thinning hair and a large nose, the butler, bowed at the site of gentry at the door, though Mikhail chose to remain in his mercenary garb. He wanted the earl to understand his purpose at this meeting right away.
“Good afternoon, my lord. May I tell Lord Rathbone who is calling upon him?”
“Yes.” Friedrich took the dominant position at the front, carrying himself with the arrogant confidence of his station. “You can tell Rathbone that Friedrich Volya, Duke of Winter Hill, is on his doorstep.”
The butler’s squinty eyes popped open as he gulped down two swallows of air. “Forgive me, Your Grace,” he bowed deeply, then swung wide the door. “Please, please come in. You can wait in the blue parlor.” He stepped lively on his long legs, giving him the look of a loping praying mantis.
Friedrich quirked a brow at us with a lopsided smile and whispered, “I believe we were unexpected.”
They followed the butler through the foyer with a dangling crystal chandelier, where he gestured toward the first parlor on the left.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you, um—” Friedrich paused with his hand aloft, waiting for the man to fill in his name.
“Graves, Your Grace. At your service. I’ll let Lord Rathbone know you’re here right away, Your Grace. And your lovely companion?”
He didn’t recognize Mina for who she was.
“Introductions will be given in person,” said Mikhail, not wanting the earl to know who was standing in his parlor just in case he had thoughts of sending out an alarm in secret.
Though Mikhail’s men would have the entire estate surrounded and would intercept anyone trying to leave or enter the earl’s manor, he would take no chances. When the butler loped off to find his master, the three of them took in their surroundings.
“You have never been here before, Your Highness?” asked Friedrich. “I thought you said you’d visited once.”
“Yes. Once,” she confirmed. “But I was quite young.” She stood demurely, like the perfect princess, nodding to the door. “Though Graves may appear to be one step away from achieving his namesake, he is human and wasn’t even alive on my girlhood visit to Sommersby.”
“The blue room isn’t very blue,” observed Friedrich, tapping a finger on the sun-yellow drapery.
“It was once blue from floor to silk-papered ceiling,” came the smooth baritone of the Earl of Devonshire standing in the entrance.
His comely and well-fashioned appearance presented a vampire entirely unruffled by the surprise visit. Though his steady gaze on Mina ruffled Mikhail at once. The earl smiled in a way that put one on edge, rather than eased the tension.
“My, my. So the rumors were true.” He strode into the room before Mina and gave a regal bow. “I am happy to see you safe, Your Highness.”
“Are you?” she asked.
His smooth expression faltered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Seeing as I was held in a torturous, bloodless sleep, imprisoned in my own home at Briar Rose, and not you nor any other southern lord came to my aid, I’m just curious if you are truly pleased. Or if you’re playing diplomat in your non-blue room.” Mina had never spoken with such bite, but she couldn’t keep the thread of betrayal from her voice.
“Your Highness—” He stepped closer with an arm raised to touch her.
Mikhail took a protective stance at her back, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. The earl noticed. Rathbone raised his hands in a disarming gesture.
“No need for violence.” He stepped back. Smart move. “I would never harm Princess Vilhelmina.”
Her hands clasped before her, she said in her regal, authoritative tone, “That’s quite reassuring, my lord.” Her voice still sharp. “But the fact remains, you allowed your sovereign to be detained by force without even calling the House to arrange a rescue.”
For the first time, the earl’s composure slipped. Rather than fear, his expression pinched with pain. “I did not know.”
“Liar,” said Friedrich. “How could I know all the way at Winter Hill but you had no knowledge right here in Arkadia?”
“And how did you know of this atrocity?” asked Rathbone.
Friedrich opened his mouth to snap off an angry retort and paused before saying, “My uncle.”
“Right.” Rathbone gave a stiff nod. “Well, he did not inform us he had our princess imprisoned and starved into unconsciousness. He said she was under his protection and guard because of this Black Lily that had kidnapped her once already. Steward Thorwald then told us the king’s men were slaughtered at Briar Rose, the princess awoken from her bloodless sleep, and abducted by a band of brigands. The king and his mother, the queen, are scouring the land in search of her.”
“I take it, this is the leader of that heroic band of brigands,” Rathbone nodded to Mikhail.
Mina gestured to her right. “Lord Rathbone, may I introduce Captain Mikhail Romanov of the Bloodguard.” Mikhail stepped to her side.
“Captain Mikhail?” His examining gaze shifted to admiration. “We have heard much of you.”
“Oh?” He remained soldier-still, unreadable but for the lethal edge in his voice. “All good, I’m sure.”
Rathbone chuckled lightly, measuring the three of them a moment. “Tonight, dinner will be interesting for once.” He ambled toward the door, “Graves.”
“Lord Rathbone, we have urgent news to discuss with you.”
When he pivoted at the door, he bore the first expression of gravity since they’d walked in the room. “I’ve already heard about Hiddleston and the rumors of the decimation of the Black Lily. Therefore, I also know you’ve traveled nonstop to get here. And with the Duke of Winter Hill and the Princess of Arkadia standing in my parlor, I can only surmise you’ve come with a request of some import. I understand this. But first, you’ll rest, and we’ll dine. Then we’ll discuss the matters at hand.” He repeated out the door, “Graves.”