Page 28 of The Highwayman's Bite

The bag crinkled in his clenched fist. Rhys sneezed from the coal dust as he reached inside and drew out an envelope, sealed with a blot of wax bearing the Thornton crest. He tore it open and found a folded letter written on vellum, far sturdier than the foolscap Rhys used.

The letter however, was quite a bit briefer than the one Rhys had penned.

It read:

“You have chosen to extort the wrong man. I will find you, and I will kill you.”

Rhys stared at the angry, slanted words in stunned silence. What was he to do now? He couldn’t call Blackpool’s bluff and kill the women. The very idea filled him with revulsion. But was he supposed to keep them prisoner forever? That wouldn’t do either.

Perhaps Rhys had been too jovial in the ransom letter and not given the impression that he was serious about this business. He would have to get another message to Lord Thornton. One that would convince the vampire that Rhys was not to be trifled with.

But what would he say? Rhys took another deep drink of ale and left the pub. He needed to walk, to think. Then he realized that if he would be holding his captives longer, they could use a hot meal. He went back inside and ordered two meat pies, which he wrapped in handkerchiefs and tucked in the pockets of his greatcoat.

He also fed on the barkeep before departing. He really didn’t care to take the blood of those who provided a service to him, as such was considered bad manners in vampire society, but Rhys didn’t have time to hunt, and he certainly did not want to feed on Madame Renarde again. Aside from the taboo of feeding from guests, Rhys couldn’t banish the memory of the blazing accusation in Vivian’s eyes when she’d suddenly sat up in her bunk and caught him drinking her companion’s blood.

He’d willed Vivian to fall back asleep, but from the suspicious looks she’d cast in his direction this afternoon, Rhys suspected some part of her retained the memory. That wouldn’t be so much of a concern if he was returning her to Blackpool before dawn as originally planned, but now that her stay was being extended, the risk of Vivian or Madame Renarde discovering Rhys’s secret had multiplied ten-fold.

An idea flickered in the back of his mind, as teasing as it was daring. But no, Rhys would save that option for a last resort.

When he reached his cave in the no-man’s land, Vivian and Madame Renarde rose from their seats on Vivian’s bunk, bent heads snapping up guiltily.

Rhys bit back a smirk. He wondered what they had been plotting in his absence. Though keeping a pair of women prisoner was an inconvenience, it did certainly abate the prospect of boredom.

“I’ve brought luncheon,” he told them with a broad smile and withdrew the meat pies.

Vivian turned her nose up and opened her mouth to issue what would doubtless be an imperious refusal, but then her stomach growled loudly, echoing in the cave.

She took the proffered bundle with a mutinous frown.

Rhys waited for his prisoners to finish their meal before delivering the unfortunate news. “I’ve received a reply from Lord Thornton.”

Vivian gasped and Madame Renarde fixed a suspicious stare at Rhys, already mistrusting his tone.

“Did he give you the money?” Vivian asked.

Rhys shook his head and handed her Blackpool’s note. Her shoulders slumped as she read the curt message and passed it to her companion. Madame Renarde’s scowl was fearsome to behold. “This is his writing. Bloody foolish male pride.”

“Yes, pride.” Rhys latched onto the explanation. “I do hope that was his reasoning rather than cold disregard for your safety. Either way, it appears that I have made a grave error in my approach to this situation.”

Vivian’s dark hair rippled over her shoulders with her vigorous nod. “Indeed, you have. You may rectify it by releasing us at once.”

Rhys chuckled at her boldness and allowed his gaze to rove over her luxurious hair. Her tresses weren’t the usual dun-color that was prominent with many English women, but rather a rich, dark shade, that reminded him of coffee from the Americas.

“No, my error was that I mistakenly gave your uncle the impression that I am a jovial man and far too soft to contemplate hurting a gently born maiden. And indeed, I shall rectify that immediately.” He reached in his pocket and withdrew his hunting knife.

Vivian gasped as he lunged at her.

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