Chapter Eighteen
The horses slowed as they evened out onto flatter, smoother roads. They were in the valley, closer to Lord Rathbone’s home in Devonshire. Mina remembered his palatial estate from one visit many years ago with Steward Thorwald. Mikhail led the line of riders off the main road and through the silver-plated gateway and under the name of Rathbone’s home, Sommersby, in perfect script.
Mina rode atop Friedrich’s Arkadian mare, Asphodel, a white beauty, reminding her how many resources her kingdom could offer the Black Lily. Once she’d truly claimed it, that is.
“Don’t tell Brennalyn this,” said Friedrich as he rode beside her on his massive black, “but you look more natural on that horse than anyone who’s ever rode her.”
Mina smiled, leaning forward to brush her neck. “She’s uncommonly beautiful. And has such easy manners.”
“Indeed.”
Yuri’s chatter continued a few paces behind while Gavril remained silent and listening at his side. Gregoravich’s baritone chimed in every now and then, but it was mostly the talkative, easygoing Yuri keeping their conversation lively.
“Perfect mount for you, Princess,” added Grant with a wink, riding on the other side of Mina. “Though I daresay your beauty exceeds sweet Asphodel here. Watching you ride the past three days has been a pleasure all its own.”
Mikhail cast a brief but dark look over his shoulder at Grant, then galloped ahead as they closed in toward the estate manor. Mina arched a brow at Grant, trying not to grin at his impropriety. He couldn’t help himself. He seemed to glory in breaking etiquette in the most devilish ways.
“I’m not sure if I should say thank you to such a compliment.”
“No, you should not.” Grant placed the hand not holding the reins over his heart. “I should be thanking you. For I’m the one who has enjoyed the view.”
Friedrich chuckled for the first time since that night Denny almost died and Izzy was taken.
“Best watch yourself, Brother. You’ll rile the captain. I don’t believe he likes you flirting with his lady.”
Mina’s pulse jolted at that. He knew? Not that she felt much like his lady anymore. Since the attack, he’d not been alone with her once. Nor had he given her any assurance that the fragile bond they’d forged just before the attack was still intact. She wondered whether Mikhail regretted saying such words now, whether he felt guilt for being with her that night when he could’ve been on guard. No one could’ve been prepared for what happened, but she felt his deliberate distance keenly.
“Hmph. The captain needs riling if you ask me.” Grant tilted his handsome face toward Mina. Even bruised from the battle, the man could make a nun swoon with those eyes. “Besides, the princess is going to be a queen soon. She may want to hire a personal bodyguard. Or better yet, her personal bleeder.” He waggled his eyebrows at the last.
Friedrich laughed louder. Mina sensed Grant’s bad behavior was partly to entertain and revive his brother from his deep melancholy. She loved the scoundrel for it, then her gaze flicked to Mikhail. He’d slowed his horse’s gait farther ahead, but still she caught the stiffening of his back.
Grant leaned his torso toward her with a hand braced on his thigh and whispered conspiratorially. “Come on, Your Highness. Brenna says I taste awfully good.”
“I swear, one of these days I’m going to beat you senseless,” the duke added casually.
“You can try. But everyone knows I’m the better warrior.”
Mina found her voice finally. “Is that so? Better than the Bloodguard?”
Grant straightened with confidence, not that he ever looked less than confident. “I’m as good as any of them. Ask Friedrich.”
The duke heaved out a sigh and rolled his eyes.
“Even as a human?” asked Mina.
“Well, I don’t have preternatural speed. Hell, when I am a vampire, I’ll be better than your captain.”
Mina glanced toward the man himself. “He’s not my captain,” she said low.
Grant chuckled with a shake of the head. “Oh, yes, he is. Whether the bastard likes it or not.”
Mina made no reply as the lane opened to a circular drive, the gravel finer than on the entry road, leading to a pristine white-stone manor stretching wide and tall. A thick-trunked, gold-leafed elm stood oddly alone to one side, as if the owner couldn’t bear to chop it down when he built the home. Mikhail tethered his horse on a low branch and drew close to the portico as their party made their way to the entrance. His stern expression revealed his temper hadn’t softened at all on their journey. She wondered whether he’d hardened his heart to her as well. She longed to speak with him alone. It would have to wait.
Now, she must meet with Lord Rathbone and hope he’d support her claim.
…
Mikhail watched as Friedrich held his stallion Ramiel’s reins, saying something to Mina while she nodded and stroked her hand down his muzzle. Her slender, pale fingers against the coal-black coat was a pretty sight.
She was always a pretty sight.
“We’ll take the horses to the stables, then encircle the estate,” said Gregoravich at his side.
“Good. Be sure to scout Rathbone’s estate for rogues. Or spies.”
Grant walked up. “Do you believe Rathbone may already be allied to King Dominik?”
“Possibly. But from what we gathered in Izeling, Rathbone wasn’t eager to get into bed with a power-hungry tyrant set on expanding into his territory.”
Gregory grunted. “But he signed a contract with the king, you said.”
Mikhail gave him a wry look. “Contracts can be broken.”
“Aye then. We’ll keep watch out here.” Gregory followed the rest of the Bloodguard toward the stables.
“Where’s Dmitri?” asked Grant, ever watchful.
He wished the bastard would stop watching Mina quite so closely. But he also knew the damn man just enjoyed getting under people’s skin. It had become apparent to him, as well as others, that Mikhail’s protectiveness of Mina extended beyond mere duty.
He actually had a notion to invite Grant to join the Bloodguard when Friedrich transformed him to vampire, which was to happen soon. Friedrich had confided that he’d held out keeping his brother human long enough. Too long. The duke wanted to take care of it before they traveled to Arkadia, leaving Grant behind. But he would have none of it.
“Dmitri’s gone ahead of us.”
“Fine,” Grant heaved a sigh. “Don’t tell me. I’ll set up a perimeter with Gregory. And leave the bowing and scraping to your lot.”
“My lot?”
“You’re a gentleman, Captain.”
“And you’re the son of a duke.” Though Friedrich’s father had never claimed his bastard son, he still bore noble blood.
Grant grinned like the cat who stole the cream. “That doesn’t make me a gentleman.”
“Tell me, what do you know of Izzy’s parents?”
Seeming stumped by the change in conversation, Grant remained pensive a moment. “Actually, we know nothing about them. Brenna said that someone she knew in Korinth found an abandoned child outside the city, so she made arrangements for the child to be brought to her home in the north, where she’s had her ever since.” Grant flicked his gaze from Mina and Friedrich to him. “Why? Do you suspect something?”
“Not exactly. Just rationalizing Queen Morgrid’s motives.”
“You don’t think she was taken to force Friedrich to heel?”
“Not likely. They don’t need him anymore. They’ve built a strong army without his Varis blood to help create it.” Clenching his jaw, he shifted his attention to Grant, knowing the man’s intellect reasoned the way his did. “Why would an all-powerful queen who practiced black magic need an unspoiled innocent child?”
Grant’s thoughtful expression darkened to a murderous scowl. “Blood sacrifice,” he hissed with disgust.
“Aye,” agreed Mikhail, shifting back to Mina and Friedrich as they approached. “Don’t mention this to Friedrich.”
“Not on your life.” Countenance stormy now that he saw what hell might await them if they ever caught up to Izzy, he nodded toward Mina and the duke. “You enjoy yourself. Friedrich says Rathbone is a nice piece of work.” He strode off after Gregoravich.
Mikhail followed behind Mina as Friedrich led their party to the door. He couldn’t help but admire the svelte line of her neck. He preferred when she wore her hair down, but he also enjoyed getting a full view of her moon-white skin, reminding him too well how it felt beneath his fingers, his lips.
He was well and truly caught. With the Black Lily having fallen—on a night when he should’ve been more on guard, not absorbed in Mina—he tried to maintain focus on their goal. And yet, he knew that was impossible. He could no longer look at her and see anything but a woman he longed for even more than he cared to avenge his family’s betrayal that stretched back long before he was born. None of it seemed to have meaning when she stood within his sight. All that mattered was…Mina.
The door swung open, snapping Mikhail from his trance. A waif of a man with thinning hair and a large nose, the butler, bowed at the site of gentry at the door, though Mikhail chose to remain in his mercenary garb. He wanted the earl to understand his purpose at this meeting right away.
“Good afternoon, my lord. May I tell Lord Rathbone who is calling upon him?”
“Yes.” Friedrich took the dominant position at the front, carrying himself with the arrogant confidence of his station. “You can tell Rathbone that Friedrich Volya, Duke of Winter Hill, is on his doorstep.”
The butler’s squinty eyes popped open as he gulped down two swallows of air. “Forgive me, Your Grace,” he bowed deeply, then swung wide the door. “Please, please come in. You can wait in the blue parlor.” He stepped lively on his long legs, giving him the look of a loping praying mantis.
Friedrich quirked a brow at us with a lopsided smile and whispered, “I believe we were unexpected.”
They followed the butler through the foyer with a dangling crystal chandelier, where he gestured toward the first parlor on the left.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you, um—” Friedrich paused with his hand aloft, waiting for the man to fill in his name.
“Graves, Your Grace. At your service. I’ll let Lord Rathbone know you’re here right away, Your Grace. And your lovely companion?”
He didn’t recognize Mina for who she was.
“Introductions will be given in person,” said Mikhail, not wanting the earl to know who was standing in his parlor just in case he had thoughts of sending out an alarm in secret.
Though Mikhail’s men would have the entire estate surrounded and would intercept anyone trying to leave or enter the earl’s manor, he would take no chances. When the butler loped off to find his master, the three of them took in their surroundings.
“You have never been here before, Your Highness?” asked Friedrich. “I thought you said you’d visited once.”
“Yes. Once,” she confirmed. “But I was quite young.” She stood demurely, like the perfect princess, nodding to the door. “Though Graves may appear to be one step away from achieving his namesake, he is human and wasn’t even alive on my girlhood visit to Sommersby.”
“The blue room isn’t very blue,” observed Friedrich, tapping a finger on the sun-yellow drapery.
“It was once blue from floor to silk-papered ceiling,” came the smooth baritone of the Earl of Devonshire standing in the entrance.
His comely and well-fashioned appearance presented a vampire entirely unruffled by the surprise visit. Though his steady gaze on Mina ruffled Mikhail at once. The earl smiled in a way that put one on edge, rather than eased the tension.
“My, my. So the rumors were true.” He strode into the room before Mina and gave a regal bow. “I am happy to see you safe, Your Highness.”
“Are you?” she asked.
His smooth expression faltered. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Seeing as I was held in a torturous, bloodless sleep, imprisoned in my own home at Briar Rose, and not you nor any other southern lord came to my aid, I’m just curious if you are truly pleased. Or if you’re playing diplomat in your non-blue room.” Mina had never spoken with such bite, but she couldn’t keep the thread of betrayal from her voice.
“Your Highness—” He stepped closer with an arm raised to touch her.
Mikhail took a protective stance at her back, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. The earl noticed. Rathbone raised his hands in a disarming gesture.
“No need for violence.” He stepped back. Smart move. “I would never harm Princess Vilhelmina.”
Her hands clasped before her, she said in her regal, authoritative tone, “That’s quite reassuring, my lord.” Her voice still sharp. “But the fact remains, you allowed your sovereign to be detained by force without even calling the House to arrange a rescue.”
For the first time, the earl’s composure slipped. Rather than fear, his expression pinched with pain. “I did not know.”
“Liar,” said Friedrich. “How could I know all the way at Winter Hill but you had no knowledge right here in Arkadia?”
“And how did you know of this atrocity?” asked Rathbone.
Friedrich opened his mouth to snap off an angry retort and paused before saying, “My uncle.”
“Right.” Rathbone gave a stiff nod. “Well, he did not inform us he had our princess imprisoned and starved into unconsciousness. He said she was under his protection and guard because of this Black Lily that had kidnapped her once already. Steward Thorwald then told us the king’s men were slaughtered at Briar Rose, the princess awoken from her bloodless sleep, and abducted by a band of brigands. The king and his mother, the queen, are scouring the land in search of her.”
“I take it, this is the leader of that heroic band of brigands,” Rathbone nodded to Mikhail.
Mina gestured to her right. “Lord Rathbone, may I introduce Captain Mikhail Romanov of the Bloodguard.” Mikhail stepped to her side.
“Captain Mikhail?” His examining gaze shifted to admiration. “We have heard much of you.”
“Oh?” He remained soldier-still, unreadable but for the lethal edge in his voice. “All good, I’m sure.”
Rathbone chuckled lightly, measuring the three of them a moment. “Tonight, dinner will be interesting for once.” He ambled toward the door, “Graves.”
“Lord Rathbone, we have urgent news to discuss with you.”
When he pivoted at the door, he bore the first expression of gravity since they’d walked in the room. “I’ve already heard about Hiddleston and the rumors of the decimation of the Black Lily. Therefore, I also know you’ve traveled nonstop to get here. And with the Duke of Winter Hill and the Princess of Arkadia standing in my parlor, I can only surmise you’ve come with a request of some import. I understand this. But first, you’ll rest, and we’ll dine. Then we’ll discuss the matters at hand.” He repeated out the door, “Graves.”
“Yes, my lord.” The spindly butler practically leaped into the room, apparently listening to every word. “Will you show our guests to their chambers for the night? I’m sure they all need a rest after such a long journey from…well, from wherever they came.”
“Yes, my lord.” The butler bowed in obedience as if he were always given odd directives such as this. “Right away.”
Friedrich frowned but followed the butler. Mikhail allowed Mina to walk on. He stepped up beside the earl and stopped him with a hand to the chest at the doorway.
“Lord Rathbone, since you apparently know of the Bloodguard’s reputation, I should think there is no reason for me to warn you that if you try to send word out of this house regarding who is currently residing under your roof, my men will gut them before they reach your borders.” Mikhail faced him and enunciated each word as evenly as a sharp knife slicing a peach. “And then I’ll gut you.”
Mikhail wouldn’t step foot from his presence until the earl understood quite clearly that he was looking at his own death should he step out of line. Earl or no.
The earl didn’t blink or flinch at such a promise of bloodshed in his home. He pasted on an amiable smile, which he probably wore for the most arrogant men of his station. “There is no reason at all, Captain. I quite understand your meaning.”
“Mikhail?” Mina had returned, fear written in the knitting of her brow and tightening of her mouth. “Is everything all right?”
“Oh, yes, Your Highness. The captain and I were just coming to an understanding.” Rathbone stepped away.
“I’m sure,” she replied, suspiciously.
“I’ll be in my study should Graves or my housekeeper, Ms. Ward, not be able to find what you need.” He turned as if he remembered something. “My father will be pleased to see you again, Your Highness.”
“Your father?”
Mikhail noted her high-pitched surprise.
“Yes.” Rathbone laughed. “He’s still alive, believe it or not. We’ll see you all at dinner.” He turned toward what appeared to be his study from Mikhail’s vantage point. “Interesting night, indeed.” The earl chuckled to himself.
Mikhail walked at her side as they ascended the carpeted stairs. “Why were you shocked his father is alive?”
Mina smiled. “Do you mean to say that I know something the great and fearful Captain Romanov does not?”
He huffed out a breath. “Tell me, Princess.”
“His father beget him when he was over a thousand years old. The earl is his one and only child.”
“Wait. Then why is Rathbone the earl while his father still lives?”
Mina tripped on her skirts. Mikhail caught her by the arm. Her breath hitched, but she kept moving up the stairs. He didn’t let her go, holding her till they reached the landing.
“The former earl displeased Queen Morgrid over I know not what, but it was enough that King Grindal and Queen Morgrid stripped him of his title. They allowed him to live only if he remained here at Sommersby all the rest of his days. You see, the former earl was around as far back as when the king and queen first claimed Glass Tower as their own.”
“You mean when the queen murdered her twin brother in cold blood, usurping his throne so that she could rule.”
Mina continued walking slowly up the corridor where Graves had led Friedrich. “Yes. I keep forgetting that.”
“I don’t,” he bit out harder than he’d intended.
She paused and turned to him. “Are you all right?”
He combed a hand through his hair, anxiety riding him at the turn of conversation. “I don’t know.”
Her light touch on his arm both calmed and stirred him. “Mikhail. Are you all right?”
When she looked at him like that, like she was his woman and she intended to make the world right again, he wanted to fall to his knees and surrender once and for all.
Instead, he repeated, “I don’t know.” Then turned up the corridor and away from the woman he wanted more than life itself. Even his justice…and his revenge.