Page 81 of The Highwayman's Bite

“His niece’s name is Emily.” Vivian’s heart sank. “But it would have been her husband who mortgaged the place. Rhys only referred to him as a wastrel. Which he most certainly was, to sell off his wife’s land like that.”

Madame Renarde continued to scan the documents. “Lord Thornton may have had her sign it if he was allowing her to make payments before. Ah!” She held up a paper. “Berwyn Farm, first signed by a William Horne, then later by Emily Berwyn Horne.”

“Rhys Berwyn.” At last, Vivian knew her love’s full name. “He was Welsh.”

Her companion arched her brow. “Do not tell me that you broke into Lord Thornton’s study simply to discern that thief’s surname.”

Vivian suppressed her wistful smile and shook her head. “No. I want to know if Emily had the farm restored.”

“Since the deed is still here, signed over to Lord Thornton, I’d say not.” Madame Renarde shrugged. “However, there is no telling if or when Rhys was able to deliver the money. Furthermore, I imagine it would be difficult for a widow with two small children to have the time and ability to make her way here to deliver the payment. She may be waiting for your uncle to come to her.”

“Then there is only one way to find out.” Vivian took one of her uncle’s quills and a sheet of parchment from his desk drawer and wrote down the address of the farm from the deed. “I shall have to pay her a visit.”

Madame Renarde fixed her with a stern frown. “Your uncle said you were not to leave the house.”

For a moment Vivian almost slipped and said that her uncle wouldn’t be able to stop her, since vampires could not go out in the day. “If he rises before I return, you will know nothing about my leaving or anything disturbed in his study. You’re supposed to be resting. I will take Jeffries with me.” She stormed down the stairs before Madame Renarde could protest.

The footman, unfortunately, was also privy to her uncle’s orders and tried to refuse. It was only when Vivian threatened to saddle her own horse and go alone that he complied. “His Lordship will hear of this, Miss,” he admonished.

“I expect he will,” Vivian replied and dug her heels in the horse’s flanks.

The afternoon sun was painfully bright after weeks of only being out at night. Still, the day was beautiful and green, the sky blue as cornflowers and the November sun surprisingly warm on her back. Vivian shivered as she realized that soon she would never be able to experience the daylight again.

That was, if Uncle would indeed Change her. He’d avoided the subject for the past several nights, instead trying to charm her into their previous congenial interactions as if her time with Rhys had never occurred. Vivian couldn’t be swayed by the act. Not only because she was still angry at him for his callous dismissal of her feelings, but also because it was impossible to observe frivolous niceties when her future was in purgatory.

Berwyn Farm lay only four miles from her uncle’s estate. As she and Madame Renarde rode up the rutted drive, Vivian’s first sight of the farm made her stomach sink. The cottages meant for the field hands had tumbled down, their timbers rotted away. The gray wood of the barn was swollen and warped, its roof had a gaping hole where the beams had collapsed.

Yet Vivian remembered the fondness that had radiated from Rhys’s features when he’d spoken of the place. “The property is forty-three acres. I spent half my childhood working them, and the other half climbing trees in the orchard, swimming in the pond, and fishing in the brook.”

After uttering a silent prayer, Vivian dismounted and bade Jeffries to remain at the end of the drive with the horses and approached the farmhouse. Despite its peeling grey paint and missing roof shingles, she could see the cozy charm of the home.

When she knocked on the door, Vivian drew in a breath, wondering what Rhys’s niece would make of her. Cousin, she corrected herself. Rhys told her they were cousins.

The door opened to reveal a tall auburn-haired woman. Even her shabby, tattered dress and the lines of exhaustion around her eyes and mouth couldn’t obscure her breathtaking beauty. Copper eyes, the same color as Rhys’s, narrowed on Vivian and her companion with suspicion. “Who are you?”

“I am Miss Vivian Stratford.” Vivian curtsied.

Emily’s suspicion warped to outright malice. “Come to admire your dowry already? Lord Thornton may have foreclosed on me day before yesterday, but he gave me another fortnight to make arrangements for myself and the children.”

Foreclosed? Vivian’s heart clenched as her worst fear was confirmed. “Rhys didn’t bring you the money?”

Emily’s eyes widened, as her mask of bitterness melted into panic. “You know Rhys? Have you seen him? He was supposed to come by three nights ago.”

Vivian didn’t know what she could say to reassure the woman, but she had to say something. Furthermore, she also wanted to know why Emily assumed this farm was her dowry. Marriage was out of the question for her. “Ah, may I come in?”

“Please do.” Emily’s face was white as linen.

Once they were seated at the scarred maple dining room table, Emily poured two cups of cider with shaky hands. “Tell me how you know my cousin.”

Vivian hesitated. “Where are your children? This is a subject too delicate for their ears.”

“They’re in the barn, playing with the kittens.” She peered out the window just in case and lowered her voice. “You know what means he used to support me, don’t you? Was he arrested by a constable?”

Vivian shook her head. “Not to my knowledge.” Though she feared that if her uncle or another Lord Vampire had caught Rhys, an arrest by human authorities could be the only explanation offered to this poor woman. “As to how I know him, he abducted me for ransom.”

Emily gasped. “He thought to bilk Lord Thornton out of the funds needed for the mortgage that he himself held?

“Yes.” Vivian tasted her cider. It was delightfully sweet for such a bitter conversation. “And he succeeded, to my knowledge. My uncle paid Rhys, and he returned me the following evening. He was supposed to come straight to you to deliver the money.”

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