Chapter Eighteen
Bryony woke in her room again and knew Stefan had carried her up to bed and tucked her in. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Twice, he had said he would take her home if she would stay with him a few days. Twice, he had lied to her.
Vampire.
What if he never took her home? Would she grow old here and never see her home or her family again?
Never marry and have children? No matter that he had treated her kindly, fulfilled her every request, she was still a prisoner with no real freedom, no better than the housemaids and grooms who served at his pleasure.
Tossing the covers aside, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She was leaving. Today.
She smiled as Constance came in with her morning cocoa and made the bed while Claudia laid out Bryony’s clothes for the day.
“Lay out my riding habit,” Bryony said, with a smile. “I’m going riding after breakfast.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“I’ll be down as soon as I dress. Would you ask Cook to prepare me a lunch to take with me?”
Claudia nodded. “Will there be anything else?”
“No, thank you.”
The maids curtseyed and left the room.
Bryony washed her face, pinned up her hair, dressed, and went downstairs to breakfast. She ate everything and asked for seconds. No telling when she would enjoy a full meal again after she left here.
Mrs. Mulgrew frowned at her. “You’ve quite an appetite this morning, young miss,” she remarked, her gaze probing Bryony’s.
Bryony shrugged. “Must be the weather. I’m going riding today.”
The housekeeper nodded. “Be careful.”
“Of course.” She smiled as Constance placed a small picnic basket on the table.
“Your lunch, Miss.”
“Give Cook my thanks.” Rising, Bryony picked up the basket and left the house, wondering how she could convince Hawkins and James to let her go alone.
As luck would have it, neither of the grooms were about.
Bryony quickly saddled Daisy, secured the basket to the saddle, and climbed on the mare’s back.
Clucking to the horse, she rode out of the yard without a backward glance.
Once out of sight, she kicked Daisy into a canter, anxious to put as much distance between herself and the house as possible before she was missed.
She rode for hours, stopping now and then to stretch her legs and back and rest the mare. At midday, she ate half the sandwich Cook had prepared, as well as an apple that she shared with Daisy.
It was a lovely day, bright and clear. Wildflowers bloomed on the hillsides, the trees were full and green, the air fragrant with the scent of flora and fauna.
The farther she rode, the more uncertain she became.
Leaving the Mountain House had seemed like such a good idea last night.
But now… She glanced around. She had seen nothing for miles but forest and grass and an occasional stream.
And it was quiet, so quiet. As the day wore on, she saw a fox skulking through the underbrush.
Later, she spied a squirrel, another time a red deer grazing on a patch of yellow grass. But no houses and no people.
Surely there must be a town or a village nearby, she thought, frowning. Stefan must get supplies from somewhere. Even if he had no need for food, his servants and the animals had to be fed. Maybe she was going in the wrong direction. Maybe there was nothing ahead of her except the forest.
She reined Daisy to a halt and glanced over her shoulder. Should she turn around and go the other way? Return to the house? What if she couldn’t find her way back?
She felt a sharp jolt of fear at the thought of being out in the middle of nowhere, alone in the dark. Were there bandits? Dangerous wild animals? Gypsies? Why hadn’t she considered the possible dangers before? Her father had always accused her of being rash, of not thinking things through.
With a strangled sob, she touched her heels to Daisy’s sides. There had to be a town nearby, she thought desperately. There just had to be.
It was going on dusk when an owl flew in front of the mare.
Startled, Daisy reared and Bryony went tumbling over the mare’s rump.
She landed hard, her left arm scraping against a jagged rock protruding from the ground.
For a moment, she lay there, too stunned to move.
And then she noticed a sudden wetness on her arm.
Afraid to look, she glanced at her left arm, felt her stomach churn at the long, shallow gash visible through the rip in her sleeve. It ran from her elbow to her wrist.
Tears welled in her eyes. She was lost, helpless, bleeding. Running away had seemed like such a good idea in the safety of her room. Now, her back and shoulders and thighs ached from hours in the saddle. Her arm throbbed. At least Daisy hadn’t run off.
Struggling to her feet, Bryony opened the basket, removed the large napkin and wrapped it around her arm.
It immediately turned red with blood. Fear curdled in the pit of her stomach.
She might bleed to death out here. Scavengers would feast on her when she died and no one would ever know what had happened to her.
Darkness flowed across the land. Curling into a tight ball, the reins clutched in one hand, she closed her eyes and prayed that someone would find her before it was too late.
Stefan rose with the setting of the sun and knew with his first breath that Bryony wasn’t in the house. He dressed hastily, stomped into his boots, and went to question the maids and then Mrs. Mulgrew, who informed him that Bryony had gone riding in the morning and hadn’t returned.
He stormed out to the barn, his fear and his rage growing when he learned she had ridden out alone.
Damn! Foolish girl, to ride off into the countryside unaccompanied.
In spite of her strong desire to go home, he had credited her with better sense than to try to run away when she was unfamiliar with the territory.
He stood there, nostrils flared, searching for the mare’s scent.
He found it quickly enough, cursed again when he saw the direction Bryony had taken.
Where the hell did she think she was going?
There wasn’t a town for more than seventy miles in the direction she had chosen.
With preternatural speed, he followed the mare’s trail, stopping where Bryony had stopped for lunch, taking a quick look around, and then moving on.
Fear coiled in the pit of his stomach when he caught the scent of fresh blood. Bryony’s blood.
He found her curled on the ground in a tight ball, shivering from the cold and loss of blood, her pale cheeks tracked with tears. Daisy stood hipshot near her mistress. She snorted softly when Stefan materialized beside her and patted her neck.
Kneeling beside Bryony, he smoothed the hair from her brow.
Gently, he peeled the cloth from around her arm.
The fabric was covered with dried blood.
When he removed it, he noticed drops of fresh blood oozing from where the cut was the deepest. Lowering his head, he ran his tongue the length of her arm, licking away the blood while his saliva healed the long, shallow gash.
She woke abruptly, a startled cry on her lips.
“All is well,” he said quietly. “Do not be afraid.”
She stared up at him, relief in her eyes when she recognized him, even though it meant he would take her back to his house. She sat up, her hands tightly clasped in her lap.
“What am I going to do with you, fair Bryony?” he murmured. “I know you are afraid of me now. I know you want to go home, back to your family. But how can I let you go? My life had no meaning until you stumbled into my lair.”
She had no answer, merely looked at him.
Her first thought on seeing him had been to throw her arms around him.
But then she remembered his hellish red eyes and the word vampire echoed in her mind.
He had fangs. He had bitten her. Drank her blood.
She frowned when she realized her arm no longer hurt.
She risked a quick glance, her eyes widening when there was no sign of an injury.
How was that possible? She slid a glance at Stefan.
Had he used some kind of magic to heal the injury?
“Do you want to stay here?” he asked. “Or go back with me?”
She stared at him, eyes wide. Would he really leave her out here, alone in the dark, if that was what she wanted?
“The nearest town is a day’s ride away.”
She glowered at him, anger dissolving her fear. He had no intention of letting her stay there, just as he knew that she wouldn’t remain out here, alone, with no food and no water and no idea where the town was. “Are you going to make me say it?” she snapped, surging to her feet.
He nodded.
“Fine! I want to go back with you.”
With a faint smile, he lifted Bryony onto the mare’s back and swung effortlessly up behind her, his arm circling her waist. Bryony frowned. Did he really mean for them to ride double all the way back to his house?
“Fear not,” he whispered, his breath caressing her neck. “A bit of magic will see us home in no time at all.”
She gasped as the world spun out of focus. There was a ringing in her ears, the sense of floating through space. When she opened her eyes again, they were in the yard near the barn.
He slid off the mare’s back, then lifted Bryony from the saddle and into his arms.
Not meeting Stefan’s eyes, Hawkins came forward, took Daisy’s reins, and led the mare into the barn.
“You can put me down now,” Bryony said.
“I think not. I like holding you.”
She liked it, too, but she wouldn’t admit it. Not now. Not ever.
With a knowing smile, he carried her into the house and up the stairs.
At her chamber door, he let her body slide intimately against his own as he set her on her feet.
“Good night, fair Bryony,” he murmured. “I will summon Mrs. Mulgrew and have her bring you some supper.” And with that, he vanished from her sight.