Page 26 of The Highwayman's Bite

The letter was expectedly unsigned. Aldric had just shoved it into his pocket when he heard a rustle from the brush lining the rutted country road.

“My lord!” Jeffries shouted. “Thank God you’re here. I’ve been searching all over for Miss Stratford and Madam Renarde. I could not find them, and I don’t know what else to do!”

Aldric resisted the urge to seize the footman by the shoulders and demand Jeffries to tell him everything that happened. For one thing, the ransom letter already painted the picture, for another, the poor old man looked like death warmed over. His hands shook as if he suffered from palsy and he swayed on his feet.

Forcing a gentle tone, Aldric patted Jeffries’s shoulder. “For now, let us return home and get you a nice hot meal and a fortifying glass of port. Then you can tell me everything that transpired tonight.”

“What about the carriage?” Jeffries cast a worried glance at the abandoned conveyance.

“I’ll send Fitz and the stable boy with horses to collect it.”

They walked to the nearest house, owned by the Waverlys, who were more than pleased to take them to Thornton Manor. Aldric lied and told them that his niece was well and only missed the ball due to a headache. If it got out that Vivian had been abducted by a man, her reputation would be blackened beyond redemption.

After Jeffries had changed out of his filthy livery and eaten a hearty meal, Aldric poured them each a glass of port and tried to keep his voice level. “Now, I know you must be tired, Jeffries, but I need you to tell me everything about the man or men who abducted Miss Stratford and Madame Renarde.”

“I can’t remember anything!” The footman’s lower lip trembled. “Somehow I... fell asleep. When I awoke, the women and the horses were gone.”

Aldric stroked his chin and voiced his worst speculation. “Do you think someone struck you and knocked you unconscious?”

Jeffries shook his head. “I don’t have any lumps on my noggin.”

“Then you must have been drugged,” Aldric said with a frown. That would mean that the abductor could have gained access to his kitchen. He’d have to ask the others if they too had fallen asleep. Then again, at this late hour, such a thing would be natural. As much as he tried to keep his servants on a nocturnal schedule, human nature had them often turning in after midnight. Besides, his original thought may have been premature. “Did you go anywhere today before it was time for you to drive the women to the ball?”

Jeffries nodded. “I popped into the pub for a spell.” He held up his hands as if to ward off any forthcoming recriminations. “But I only had one pint. I swear I wasn’t foxed.”

“I did not say you were,” Aldric said, though perhaps Jeffries had indeed imbibed more than he confessed. “I was merely speculating when you could have been drugged. Unless... there haven’t been any strange visitors to the house, have there?”

“No, my lord,” the footman answered quickly. “It must have happened at the pub, as you suspected.” He shuddered. “That means the villain must have been right beside me. Poisoned my drink. I could have died!”

“I am glad you did not,” Aldric said, hoping Jeffries would calm down enough to be useful. “Do you remember who was at the pub?”

“Just our cook, the butcher, Olson, the vicar, and a few farmers.” Jeffries took a deep drink of his port. “I thought I recognized everyone.”

Aldric hid his disappointment. Whoever had done this had been clever. And for all he knew, it could have been any of those people who’d taken his niece. After all, Jeffries may know them, but Aldric did not. And he’d granted more than one farmer a loan after a bad harvest. Three were in arears, including the Berwyn widow.

“What can you tell me about when you woke up to find the women gone?”

Jeffries sipped his port and told of how he’d jolted the driver’s perch to find the horses gone and his pistol vanished from his pocket. He’d found the gun discarded in the grass. It had been fired.

Aldric flinched at that news. What if the kidnapper had lied and Madame Renarde or Vivian had been harmed after all?

He relaxed slightly when Jeffries then clarified that he hadn’t seen any blood in the grass.

With nothing else to be learned, Aldric dismissed Jeffries with a sigh. “Thank you for all that you’ve told me. You may retire for the rest of the evening.”

Jeffries bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

The moment the footman left, Aldric reread the ransom letter. Some despicable criminal had dared abduct his niece to bilk money out of him? He clearly had no notion of what sort of man Aldric was.

He crumpled the letter in his fist and poured a second tot of brandy. He should have postponed the damned Gathering and escorted his niece to the ball.

For but a second, he considered leaving the money in the demanded location just to see his niece home safely. After all, it would be easy for him to part with two hundred pounds. He had accumulated several thousand over his long life. May as well give the whoreson a sum that had become pithy to Aldric and have his niece home safe.

However, his pride rankled at the notion. Aldric was a four-hundred-year old vampire. An immortal. Furthermore, he was the Lord Vampire of Blackpool. This village was his domain, under his command. To allow a mere human outlaw to best him was anathema to him.

No, he wouldn’t quietly pay the ransom. Instead, Aldric would track down the cad and demonstrate what happened to those who dared toy with the Lord of Blackpool. And Vivian and Madame Renarde would still be returned home safe.

A surge of momentary guilt wriggled in his belly at the thought of leaving his niece with her captor longer than it would take to deliver a sack of coins. Aldric suppressed it with the justification that the man had written that he’d also taken Madame Renarde to vouch that Miss Stratford would remain untouched. Since Vivian was a hostage, her value was in remaining in good health. That meant that she should be fed, sheltered, and treated gently.

At any rate, it shouldn’t take Aldric long to track her down. The first places he would try would be the farmers who owed him money. Between his preternatural abilities and his knowledge of everything that went on in his territory, he should have his niece back under his roof the following evening, before the sun rose.

Thinking of the sun, Aldric frowned as he realized that was his largest disadvantage in this entire affair. He wouldn’t be able to search for Vivian until dusk tomorrow.

However, that was only a minor inconvenience, he assured himself and pulled a sheet of vellum out of his desk drawer. It irked him to waste such valuable writing material on a bloody outlaw, but he had to make an impression.

Aldric dipped his quill in the ink blotter and wrote a letter of his own.

---