Page 26 of Wynter's Bite

She was also insatiably curious as to what her future home was like. Bethany had heard that Lord de Wynter’s estate was a half mile from her own, adjacent to the Ellingsworths’ lands. Digging her heel in Canterbury’s flanks, she urged the gelding into a run in that direction. The wind whipped through her hair, though not as fiercely as it had last night in Justus’s arms. That meant that a vampire was faster than a horse.

Bethany remained in awe over that fact until she reached a ramshackle manor house that was indeed between the Ellingsworths’ and the Chattertons’ properties. The de Wynter crest was cast in the rusted iron gate, though it was so pitted that it was nearly unrecognizable. Grass grew at least waist high in the lawn and the gravel drive was choked with weeds.

A shutter hinge creaked in the wind as it hung from one pitiful nail. The red bricks were faded and crumbling on the Jacobean façade of the house. Bethany’s heart sank slightly to see the place in such disrepair, but vowed to restore it to its former glory once she was Lady de Wynter.

“Lady de Wynter...” she murmured, heat pooling in her belly at those words.

Was Justus in there now, hiding from the sun and dreaming of her?

Her thoughts broke as she heard a shout.

“Miss Mead!” Rebecca rode a shining silver bay up to her. “What brings you to this dismal place?”

Observing my future estate, Bethany longed to say, but it would be best to hold her tongue until her engagement was announced. “My horse was startled by a large dog,” she lied. “I only now got control of her.”

Rebecca smirked as if detecting her fib. “Well, you had best find your groom before you are seen in front of a rake’s home without a chaperone.” She sneered at the ramshackle house. “For a man who dresses so fine, his estate is in a ghastly state. He must be up to his ears in debt.”

“I could not say,” Bethany said thinly. “Anyway, I must be going.”

With a press of her knee, she guided Canterbury away, wondering if she could bite Rebecca once she became a vampire. The thought filled her with more glee than was proper.

She wondered how Justus’s conversation with the Lord Vampire of Rochester went. What if he refused to allow Justus to Change her? Would they then be unable to wed? Refusing to let such a dark prospect cloud her heart, Bethany once more urged her horse to a run once the edges of her father’s lands came into view.

Who was the Lord Vampire of Rochester anyway? Could he be a member of the nobility? She thought back to all the men she’d been introduced to since they came to the country, but her mother had thrust her before so many that they blurred in her memory. Or perhaps he was a commoner, hiding from the public view. No matter, she supposed she would find out soon enough.

Suddenly, Canterbury stumbled into a gopher hole and shrieked a high-pitched neigh. Bethany jolted from the saddle, the world flying before her eyes as fast as it had when Justus carried her home.

She slammed into the ground so hard her breath was forced from her lungs. Stars exploded in her vision before blackness engulfed her.

Pain, throbbing and sharp, awakened her after what felt like an age of slumber. Bethany opened her eyes to see a balding man with white bushy eyebrows standing over her. “Ah, our patient’s awake.”

Patient? Bethany blinked in confusion. Somehow she’d ended up back in her own bed, and now a doctor was in her room. She must have moved, for her knee exploded in agony.

The doctor gently held her down on her bed. “Easy now. Though you haven’t broken anything, you have a few sprains and bruises. Best not to agitate them.” He then poured some liquid into a large spoon and forced her to drink a bitter concoction. “That should make you feel better.” He placed the spoon and bottle into his large leather bag and donned his hat. “I’ll look in on you tomorrow.”

Bethany grimaced at the taste of the medicine. Sprains and bruises... She then remembered falling from her horse. “Canterbury,” she whispered. If he’d broken a leg and had to be shot, she couldn’t bear it.

“The horse is all right,” Bethany’s mother said from behind the doctor. She set her embroidery hoop on the end table and crossed the room. “The stable master wrapped his sprained front leg. It is you I am concerned for. You could have broken your neck!”

Bethany’s brows rose at such melodrama coming from her normally staid mother. “I’m certain I’ll be quite well.” A thought made her freeze. “Lord de Wynter is supposed to pay a call tonight.”

Lady Wickshire frowned. “What sort of man pays calls at night?”

Bethany ground her teeth, not able to answer. The medicine flowed through her, making her feel muzzy-headed, though thankfully abating the pain in her knee.

Her mother continued. “Besides, you have a caller now.” She wrung her hands, looking unusually anxious. “Of course I told him he could not come up here with you in such a state, but he will be staying for supper.”

“Who?” Bethany asked, curious as to what sort of caller would unnerve her mother so.

“Lord Tench.” The answer came out sounding like a confession and Cecily’s shoulders slumped.

Bethany sighed in annoyance. “Is that all? Can’t he sup with us tomorrow? Tonight is important, and Tench smells like old beets and his hands wander where they shouldn’t.”

“Bethany!” Mother gasped at her words.

Bethany gave her a lopsided smile. The medicine seemed to have loosened her tongue, but she did not regret speaking the truth. “I’m sorry, Mother. I do not like him.”

“Well, you had best learn to,” Mother said with a frown. “Your father has accepted his offer for your hand.”

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