Aldric Cadell, Viscount of Thornton, and Lord Vampire of Blackpool, surveyed his great-great-great grand-niece with annoyance. When he’d been asked to take her in for a year to quell some inane scandal, he’d expected an awkward young miss who’d likely been launched too soon and didn’t have a grasp on the rules yet. Or perhaps a vulnerable maid who’d fallen prey to a rake.

He’d not expected a steely-eyed vixen accompanied by a Molly for a companion. Did her father know that this Madame Renarde he’d written of was not what “she” seemed? Somehow, Aldric doubted it. Humans were easily fooled and had a poor sense of smell. Besides, the more significant question was whether Vivian was aware of her companion’s secret.

After asking Vivian to see him about the matter in his study, Aldric looked to Vivian’s father’s carriage driver and the companion. Aldric addressed the driver first. “I will have my stable boy rub down the horses and Jeffries, my footman, can provide you with victuals, a bath, and a room for the night before you depart.” He then turned to Madame Renarde. “As for you, Madame, my butler, Ames, will escort you to the drawing room and provide refreshment while you await my niece.”

Renarde bobbed a curtsy, unable to see discern any suspicion. “Yes, my lord.”

Aldric blinked. Though the companion’s voice was indeed on the deep side, it still managed to sound womanly. Like the voice of a sweet grandmother. He also noted the protective glint in the companion’s eyes as Aldric took Vivian’s arm and led her away. Whatever this person’s purpose, Renarde at least definitely cared for his niece’s well-being.

Once Vivian was seated in front of the desk in his study, Aldric poured them some wine from his cabinet.

Placing a glass before his niece, he sat and took a drink of his own. “How was your journey?”

She took a ladylike sip and set her glass on the desk. “Quite dull, until we were stopped by a highwayman.”

Aldric choked on his wine. “I beg your pardon?” he managed between coughs.

“We were stopped by a highwayman. He stole my comb and all the driver’s money, but otherwise left us unharmed.” A blush crept up her cheeks and down her slim neck. A neck that was still adorned with a gold chain and a locket. Something a thief would have had off her throat in a thrice.

She wasn’t telling him everything about the encounter. Aldric studied her closer and saw that indeed, without the comb, her dark hair tumbled about her shoulders. But it was in such disarray, like she’d been out in the wind. And she smelled of dry sweat. On a cool autumn evening such as this, the carriage could not have been that warm.

“I will want to know more of your encounter with this blackguard. Where you were, and what happened to make him depart so suddenly before report the incident to the constable.” Aldric eyed her sternly. “But for now, there are other things I am curious about. Your father tells me you had a bit of a scandal in London, yes?”

Vivian nodded. “I challenged Lord Summerly to a duel.”

Aldric was thankful that he hadn’t taken another sip of wine, else he would have spewed it across his desk. “You did what? Why in the name of heaven would you think to engage a man in pistols at dawn?”

His niece calmly sipped her wine. “Not pistols. Rapiers. And I had perfectly good reason for doing so. Summerly propositioned that I should be his mistress and put his hands upon my person. That impugned my honor, so I thought I was well in my rights to defend myself.”

She had a point. Reluctant admiration welled in his chest. However... “While I agree that this cad did indeed besmirch you with his proposal, it is not proper for a woman to duel, much less defend herself. That is a gentleman’s duty.”

“If I had told any gentleman that Summerland had absconded with me and held me alone in the Cavendish’s conservatory, I would have been blamed and still been ruined. At least this way, I was able to assure everyone that I was the virtuous party.” Vivian lifted her chin, daring him to challenge her.

Once more, her logic was sound. She would have been saddled with blame and scandal no matter which way the dice fell. Still, what kind of woman would even think of fighting a gentleman with a rapier. “Do you even know how to fence?”

“I do.” Pride rang in his niece’s voice.

“Who taught you?” he asked, though he already suspected.

He watched the multitude of thoughts skitter across her face. First the temptation to lie, then resignation for the truth. “Madame Renarde.”

Oh yes, her companion. Yet another topic that must be addressed immediately. “Are you aware that Madame Renarde is really a Monsieur?”

Her eyes widened, not in surprise at the fact, but at his knowledge. “How did you know?”

“I have a good eye for seeing through deceptions.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Does your father know what your companion is hiding under those skirts?”

Vivian shook her head so violently that locks of her hair slapped her cheeks. “Please don’t tell him. I do not wish to lose my only friend.”

“If you can assure me that Renarde’s intentions are honorable, I may consider keeping your secret.” Aldric said grudgingly. Her talk of having no other friends also concerned him. “Though I must say, I do not countenance deception. Is this person truly from France?”

Vivian finished her wine with an unladylike gulp and took a deep breath to gather her courage. “Madame Renarde escaped during the revolution. There is no home for her in France any longer, so she is loyal to England and only wants to live out the rest of her days doing honest work.”

“Honest work?” Aldric snorted and refilled her glass. Though this... person was not an enemy of his country, he was still suspicious. The situation was so queer that he had trouble wrapping his head around it. “A man pretending to be a lady’s companion? Why do you insist on calling him ‘she?’”

“Because she has the heart and spirit of a woman,” Vivian said fiercely. “All her life, she felt that there was a mistake in her birth. When she first put on ladies’ clothing, she felt right.”

“And you believe... her?” He had trouble with the pronoun.

“Yes.” Vivian took another sip of her wine and leaned forward, her teeth bared in a sneer. “Women have no rights under the law. We are chattel, doomed to be imprisoned and manipulated by male whims. We have no recourse if a man wrongs us, as you are observing this moment with my presence here. We are subject to the most suffocating rules of how we are to behave. I cannot imagine a man willingly choosing such a life. So Madame Renarde must indeed be female in spirit to thrive in a woman’s lot in life.”

From her impassioned speech, it was clear that Vivian told the truth. Whether or not this Renarde was honest remained to be seen. Aldric sighed. “Very well, I shall keep quiet about the matter for now.”

Gratitude welled in her large grey eyes. “Thank you, Uncle.”

“We’ll talk more later. Let us see you and your companion settled in your rooms.” Aldric rose from his seat and escorted his niece back downstairs to the drawing room, where Renarde was sipping a cup of tea and warming herself by the nearby fire.

Immediately, the companion rose and curtsied. “My lord, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” If Renarde was aware of Aldric’s suspicions, ‘she’ did not let on.

“Madame Renarde,” Aldric said with a slight bow. The companion’s voice and body language were feminine indeed. If not for his preternatural senses, he may have been fooled as well. At least Renarde had been honest with Vivian... as far as he could discern.

Now he addressed both his niece and her companion. “Welcome to Thornton Manor. Although the house is isolated, I do hope you’ll find it to be cozy. I’m afraid my illness prevents me from being about much during the day, but the servants should see to your every need.”

Just like his previous descendants who’d visited him over the centuries, Vivian blinked at his declaration. However, he also detected a glimmer or relief in her eyes. From her talk of male tyranny, he wondered if her father was a cruel man.

Once settled beside his niece, Aldric poured her a cup of tea. “How was London? I haven’t been there in over a year, and I am eager for news.”

For the next hour, they spoke of the goings-on in Town, the balls, operas, weddings, children born, and the weather. Aldric studied Renarde, watching for signs of disingenuousness, yet all he could discern was that this companion genuinely appeared to care for Vivian. And that may be sufficient for Aldric to refrain from telling Vivian’s father about Renarde’s secret.

Maybe.

When his guests were visibly concealing yawns of exhaustion from their journey, Aldric had the servants heat tubs of water for baths, and bade them good night.

He was tempted to ask more about their encounter with the highwayman, but decided it could wait. For now, it was enough that his niece had arrived safely.

Instead, he left the house to seek his meal for the night and ponder on this firebrand niece of his.

This one was as free-spirited as his sister had been. From the scandal Vivian caused and her unconventional friendship with her companion, Aldric suspected that she’d cause a fair bout of mischief before she left his home.

All the more reason to ensure she did not remain here long. Although he did enjoy providing a haven for his mortal family from time to time, he could not risk having his own secrets discovered.

The scandal about her attempted duel was far more serious than he’d anticipated. Very few gentlemen would countenance having such a willful, rebellious wife. Furthermore, she was untitled, and her dowry would have been nonexistent had he not contributed a generous sum. Still, the pot would need to be sweetened further.

Perhaps if he deeded her some land, a match with her would be more appealing to a worthy suitor. Aldric had properties throughout England as well as one in Spain and another in France as vampires had to move every half century or so before the local humans noticed they did not age. But he did not wish to part with those. He did hold mortgages to a few farms, however, and he was intending on foreclosing on the Berwyn land. The widow of the wastrel who’d tricked Aldric into loaning with no ability to repay had been putting forth a valiant, yet pitiful effort to pay Aldric off, but even a halfwit could see that there was no chance of her closing the debt in her lifetime.

Aldric sympathized with the woman, he truly did. As it was, he’d allowed her to give him her meager payments and care for her children, giving her time to find a new husband to perhaps take over the loan, or for her to give up and find some relatives to stay with or a situation in service.

And yet the stubborn wench clung to her failing farm and Aldric eventually lost patience and demanded full payment at months’ end. Then he would seize the farm. The fields, orchard, and buildings were in dreadful shape, but land was land. Perhaps it could go to Vivian as part of her dowry.

He rose from his desk and rubbed his temples, between providing for his wayward niece and dealing with the widow’s mortgage, he’d have no peace in the foreseeable future until both were resolved.