Chapter Twenty-Six
A month later, after finding traces of hunters in the area, Stefan moved out of the Stone House in the valley and into a small castle built of brick and stone located on the coast of Ireland.
It was an old keep, but well-built. He had lived there some fifty years before.
At that time, he had reinforced the roof and the outer walls and added iron bars to the windows.
In the past, a wooden bridge had spanned the river that ran in front of the castle, but Stefan had removed the connection when he purchased the place. A high stone wall protected the rear.
He made his lair in the underground dungeon, though he kept his clothing and personal belongings in the large bedchamber on the second floor.
It was a pleasant room, with white-washed walls.
A few Persian rugs covered the floor, heavy, dark-blue drapes shut out the sun’s light.
From the window, he could see the river and the rolling hills beyond.
To his knowledge, there were no vampires currently living in the country. And, therefore, no hunters to worry about at the moment.
And since he could travel great distances with but a thought, the fact that the Barrett estate was hundreds of miles away mattered not at all.
Standing in the middle of the Great Hall, he tried to view it through Bryony’s eyes. And then he grinned. If she didn’t like this place, he would build her a home wherever she wished, one with a water closet, gas lights, and indoor plumbing.
Whistling softly, he willed himself to Dublin in search of prey.
It was nearly eight in the evening when he arrived at the Barrett estate.
He paused in the act of knocking at the door when he heard tears and Barrett’s voice, pleading for Maida to understand.
Understand what? he wondered, but before he could determine the cause of their quarrel, Barrett came storming out the front door.
Swearing like a drunken sailor, he strode down the walkway, too consumed by his anger to notice Stefan standing in the shadows.
Coming to an abrupt halt, he did an about-face and went through the side gate into the back yard.
Five minutes later, he rode out of the yard.
Curious, Stefan followed him down the road that led to town. And the local pub. Dissolving into mist, he followed Barrett inside, watched as he ordered a pint and carried it to a table in the back of the smoke-filled room.
A few minutes later, a man joined Barrett at the table.
Stefan drifted closer to the two men where he caught the name Bloodworth. Ah. The man Bryony had been engaged to. No wonder she had run away, he thought. The man was easily twice her age, balding, and so overweight Stefan feared the chair wouldn’t hold him.
He listened to the heated conversation between the two men, Barrett’s voice pleading and subservient as he begged for more time to satisfy his debt, Bloodworth arrogant and unyielding as he demanded payment be made in full.
Twenty minutes later, Bloodworth left the pub.
Barrett stared into his empty glass and signaled for another. Shoulders slumped in defeat, he downed his drink in a couple of long swallows and called for another.
Leaving the pub, Stefan resumed his physical form. Bryony had told him her father had been in a foul temper the last few days. After what he’d heard tonight, Stefan wasn’t surprised. He was, however, sorely afraid that his marriage to Bryony was about to be canceled.
Lost in thought, he strolled down the cobbled street, thinking perhaps kidnapping Bryony and taking her out of the country was the easiest solution and his best option.
Bryony stared at her father, eyes wide with disbelief, as he informed her that marrying Stefan was out of the question. “But why? What has happened?”
Her father blew out a heavy sigh as he took her hands in his. “Two years ago, after making some ill-advised investments, I borrowed a rather large sum of money from Lord Bloodworth.”
“What does any of that have to do with my marrying Stefan?”
“Be still and listen.” He cleared his throat.
“The note comes due in a few months. I don’t have the funds to repay it.
There are only two options. I can sell the house and everything we own.
It won’t pay the debt in full, but perhaps Bloodworth would accept it as a down payment.
If not, he can send me to prison. If he accepts it as full payment, we will be left with nothing.
Or…” He took a deep breath. “You can honor the agreement I made with him tonight.”
“What agreement is that?” she asked, though she feared she knew the answer. The look of anguish in her father’s eyes confirmed it. “Let me guess,” she said, her voice icy. “If I agree to marry Bloodworth, he will cancel the debt.”
Barrett nodded, his face dark with shame. Unable to hold her gaze, he looked away. “I’m sorry, daughter. I will inform Lord Bloodworth that you have accepted his offer. The wedding date will stay the same.”
“Only the groom will change,” she said bitterly.
Wrenching her hands from her father’s grasp, she turned and walked up the stairs to her bedchamber with all the dignity she could muster.
Inside, she threw herself on the bed and buried her face in the pillow, a scream of anger and frustration rising in her throat.
Sold like chattel to pay off her father’s debt.
She should run away and let him rot in prison.
It would serve him right. But she wouldn’t.
Couldn’t. She had to think of the rest of the family.
They would all suffer if her father sold their estate and belongings.
She cried until her pillow was damp with her grief and she had no tears left. “Oh, Stefan,” she murmured. “How can I marry another when it’s you I love?”
“Bryony?”
“Stefan! Oh, Stefan. How did you know I needed you?” Sitting up, she reached for him, sighed with relief when he took her into his arms. Surely everything would be all right now that he was here.
“I sensed your distress, love. Waste no more tears,” he said, wiping his tears from her cheeks with his fingertips. “You will never marry another.”
“I fear I must. My father…”
He pressed his fingertips to her lips. “I know all about his debt to Bloodworth.”
“You do? How can that be?”
“I have my ways. Do not worry. I will think of something. The debt is not due for months.” Earlier, he had considered kidnapping her, but that would solve nothing.
Bloodworth could still insist on payment and though Stefan cared little for what happened to Barrett, the man was Bryony’s father.
She would never be happy if her father was sent to rot in debtor’s prison or they lost the family home and their good name.
“I fear I must marry him,” Bryony said, sounding resigned.
“I will not hear of it,” he said firmly. “I will kill him first.”
“Stefan!”
He shrugged. “It was just a thought.”
“Well, think of something else.”
“Just now, all I can think of is you.” His knuckles caressed her cheek. “Soft. So soft.”
He brushed her lips with his, then murmured, “Sweet, so very sweet.” He kissed her more deeply, his hand stroking lightly up and down her back.
He could make love to her here and now, he thought.
When she was no longer a virgin, perhaps Bloodworth would no longer want her.
It was a tempting thought, but he dismissed it immediately.
He would not steal her virginity to keep another man from taking it.
He rained kisses over her face and neck, lingering on her lips, the curve of her throat.
Bryony clung to him, caught up in the magic of his kisses, the husky sound of his voice whispering that he loved her more than life itself.
“A taste?” he asked, his voice hoarse with wanting.
It was what she had been waiting for. Eagerly, she brushed her hair out of the way, closed her eyes as he bit her, unleashing wave after wave of sensual pleasure, leaving her to wonder if anything could be more wonderful, or more satisfying.
Stefan grinned inwardly as he read her thoughts. Ah, my fair Bryony, he mused as the warmth of her blood spread through him like liquid sunshine. You have no idea.
The next afternoon, at her father’s request, Bryony donned her best gown and applied a light dusting of powder to her face. Her maid, Olivia, artfully arranged her hair.
At precisely one o’clock that afternoon, Lord Timothy Bloodworth came calling.
He was seated in the back parlor with her father when Bryony entered the room.
One look at the man filled her with dread.
Dressed in a bright green coat and buff-colored breeches, he was every bit as unappealing as he had been the last time she had seen him, and even more obese than before, if that was possible.
When he rose to his feet, she curtseyed and offered him her hand while her stomach churned with revulsion.
When Bryony took her seat, Bloodworth resumed his.
“I have informed Lord Bloodworth of the wedding details,” her father said, not meeting her eyes. “He has no objection.”
Bryony forced a tight smile.
She thought the next hour would never pass.
One of the maids entered the room carrying a tea tray, another with a China plate of sweet cakes and tarts.
Bloodworth helped himself to two of each.
Her father kept up a steady stream of conversation, most of which Bloodworth ignored as he was too busy stuffing his face and leering at Bryony through his little pig eyes.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the hour was over and Bloodworth finally rose to take his leave. Standing in front of Bryony, he reached for her hand and kissed her palm. “Good afternoon, my dear. I look forward with great eagerness to our wedding day. And night.”
Bryony smiled weakly. “Good day, my lord.”
When her father escorted Bloodworth out of the room, she slumped in her chair. Stefan had better think of something and soon, she thought, because she would rather throw herself off the manor house roof than marry that horrible man.