Sleep came hard for Rhys. Vivian’s gaze had seared every inch of his body when he’d undressed to bathe. He hadn’t realized that the tub was set back far enough that it wasn’t hidden by the privacy screen. Had she seen... everything?

Lustful dreams plagued him whenever he managed to doze off. Even then, he was awakened constantly by Renarde’s coughing. Dusk had him sitting up with a groan and rubbing his eyes.

He lit the lantern and saw that Renarde had already risen and dressed. Vivian remained asleep, her heart a steady beat, her breathing an even rhythm. Should he awaken her? He supposed he should, so she could say goodbye to her companion. But what if she told Renarde that she’d seen him undress? He could well imagine the companion’s disapproval at that.

And then there was the constant reminder that when he returned from the journey, he and Vivian would be alone together.

Before he could speculate on the potential delights of that scenario, Rhys doused them with cold reality. He had to take Madame Renarde back to Thornton Manor tonight. Crossing territories was always dangerous, though as a rogue, he’d had many years of experience. But his progress would be slowed carrying a human.

And then there was the more alarming fact that Vivian would be completely alone. Fresh worries plagued him at that. What if another rogue vampire came by? Many would seek refuge with Rhys from time to time. Of course, if any had approached with Renarde watching over Vivian, it would have still been slim protection. He still worried that Andrew and Lucy, the fellow rogues who’d asked for refuge the other night, would gossip about Rhys’s human guest to the wrong ears.

Madame Renarde broke through his fruitless musings. “Can you discern if she has caught my illness? You were able to smell mine.”

Rhys nodded and carefully ducked beneath the bamboo curtain. The slumbering Vivian was a delightful sight, with the rise and fall of her breasts and her lush, parted lips. He bent down and the urge to kiss her ravaged him like a pack of lions. Restraining himself, he inhaled her scent. All he could detect was the sweat from last night’s sword play, smoke from the fire, and her intoxicating womanly scent that was unique to her alone.

Before temptation overtook his senses, Rhys ducked back out. “She smells healthy.”

“If that changes?” Renarde brought his attention back to more serious matters.

“I have ways of healing her,” he said. “But I did not want to risk them on you. Your affliction is deep in your lungs, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Renarde nodded and muffled another ratcheting cough. “I’ve been stricken with pneumonia several times in my life. And I was a sickly child.”

Rhys’s heart constricted with sympathy. His mother had also suffered constant ailments of the lungs. “I hope you get well soon. I honestly mean that. Now bid your farewells to Miss Stratford.”

He gave them a few minutes of privacy to spare himself from witnessing feminine displays of emotion, but unfortunately, when he returned to the cave to collect Madame Renarde, he discovered the two in a tearful embrace that tugged at his hardened heart. Poor Vivian was clearly desolate at the prospect of losing her closest friend, and Madame Renarde’s brave front looked ready to crumble at any moment.

But Rhys would not have this unique woman’s death on his conscience. Just because he was a rogue vampire didn’t mean he lacked morals. “It is time,” he said firmly.

Madame Renarde accompanied him outside with her satchel. “Are we taking the horses?”

Rhys shook his head. “It will be faster if I carry you. I will have to blindfold you.”

Renarde nodded in comprehension. “So that I cannot lead Lord Thornton to your cave.”

“Precisely.” He tied a scarf around the companion’s eyes.

When he lifted Renarde, he noticed with a pang of alarm that the stout lady’s companion was quite a bit lighter than she’d been when he abducted her. He hoped he hadn’t waited too long in deciding to send her back. As he ran with his preternatural speed, he also worried about the toll the chill wind took on her.

Halfway to Blackpool, he stopped near an inn and removed Renarde’s blindfold. “We both need rest and sustenance.”

The companion nodded, her ashen countenance alarmed him. At the inn, Rhys ordered a cup of hot tea, soup, and a tot of brandy to warm her. While she ate, he found an easy meal in a shadowy corner, where a drunk dozed in a chair.

Although Rhys knew they should resume their journey, he wanted to give Renarde more time to warm her chilled bones.

“When did you realize that you were meant to be a female?” he asked.

Renarde laughed. “Everyone who knows my secret asks me, and Vivian is one of the only people I’ve told. But very well, since I know your secrets, you may as well hear some of mine.” She coughed and swallowed another spoonful of soup before she continued. “My father was a cruel, hard man. He wanted me to be the epitome of manhood, hard, unfeeling, and violent. Though I excelled in my fencing lessons, I failed in all other things. I loved poetry, music, and keeping the company of my mother, sisters, and female cousins. With them, I felt accepted for who I was.”

“Your father sounds like he was an ass,” Rhys said. He hadn’t been particularly close with his own, either.

“He was. The first time my father caught me trying to learn embroidery from my sister, he thrashed me soundly and then forced me to wear a dress for the rest of the day.” Madame Renarde smirked as if holding a secret triumph. “He thought I cried from the humiliation, but I cried because Mama was distraught over it. Dressing me as a girl became his preferred punishment for whenever I behaved in what he deemed a feminine manner. But something strange happened. I felt so much more comfortable in women’s clothing than in shirtwaists and breeches.”

Rhys suppressed a shudder at her father’s cruel punishment. If his father had forced him to dress like a girl, he would have despised it. He was glad that the cruel action backfired in Renarde’s case.

“During one such incident, my sister smuggled me out of my room while Papa went hunting for boar. She took me to her chamber and adorned my face most prettily with her paints, rogue, and kohl. Then she placed one of her powdered wigs on my head.” Renarde beamed at the memory. “She thought it was quite the lark, but when I looked in her mirror, I saw the beautiful maiden reflected before me and thought, ‘this is who I am supposed to be.’”

Rhys thought of how he’d felt when he first stood on the deck of a ship. Probably a poor comparison, but that was the closest he could come to relating.

Renarde continued her story. “We then went to call on one of her friends. My sister introduced me as her cousin, and we had a lovely time. Never had I felt so natural and free.” Her smile dissolved into a frown. “But it wasn’t until later when I was able to live my life as I wished. I was at a fencing club when I met Le Chevalier D’Eon. Her story was a revelation. We became constant sparring partners and close friends and she told me of how she’d first lived as a woman in the Russian court, acting as a spy. She then managed to secure me a position working for the King of France before she was exiled to England. I lived and worked as a woman, but my duties became too rigorous as I got older and the pneumonia afflicted me further. When the revolution began, I fled to England, but sadly, there was no royal pension for me as there was for Le Chevalier. So I hired myself out as a lady’s companion and that is how I came to be with Miss Stratford.”

Rhys couldn’t help but note that Renarde never clarified what her royal duties had been. Likely a spy, as D’Eon had been. But he saw no need to pry. Just like his days as a royally-sanctioned pirate, Renarde’s exploits were buried in the past.

He looked at the clock and realized with a jolt of alarm that they’d lingered too long. “I’m sorry, but we must go now.”

Renarde lifted her chin bravely, but Rhys could hear the pounding of her heart. She was afraid of how Blackpool would treat her. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it.

He carried Vivian’s companion all the way to the edge of Blackpool’s territory. When he set her down, guilt knotted his stomach as he told her she’d have to walk the rest of the way.

“Don’t look so crestfallen,” Renarde said with a smirk. “I may be ill, but I hardly think a mile’s walk should do me in. When this debacle is all over, you truly should try to live a more respectable life. I’m afraid being a villain doesn’t suit your constitution.”

“You may be right about that.” Once his family had their home restored, Rhys had originally intended to leave England and undertake the daunting quest to find a Lord Vampire willing to legitimize him. But he’d thrown away that hope when he’d told Vivian that her uncle was a vampire. For that crime, Blackpool would hunt him to the ends of the earth and execute him.

Renarde brought his attention back to the present. “Promise me you’ll keep Vivian safe.”

Rhys placed his hand over his heart and bowed. “I promise.”

Yet as he returned to the cave, where he’d be spending Lord-knew-how-long in close quarters with a tempting, spirited beauty, Rhys wondered if he could keep her safe from himself.

***

AN HOUR BEFORE DAWN, Aldric was preparing to retire for the day when he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. His heart quickened with hope. Had Vivian been found? Frantic knocking assaulted the door of his study.

“Enter,” he called, wishing he could have run to the door and flung it open. But that was unseemly for a viscount.

“My lord!” Jeffries burst in, panting with exhaustion. “It’s the companion!” He gasped and braced his hand on the doorframe.

Aldric’s eyes widened with alarm at the gray pallor of the elderly footman’s face. Tamping down the urge to demand the man keep talking, he gestured to the seat before his desk. “Sit down, Jeffries and catch your breath.”

He poured his servant a glass of wine and wrestled with his impatience as Jeffries recovered from his dash up the stairs.

“What’s this about the companion?” he asked when color returned to the footman’s face. “Do you mean Madame Renarde has returned?”

“Yes, my lord!” Jeffries bobbed his head frantically. “I found her staggering down the drive. She’s very ill, I’m afraid. Burning with fever and suffering the most terrible cough.”

“And my niece?” Aldric demanded. It wasn’t that he was unsympathetic to Renarde’s plight, but his hope for Vivian’s return could not be quenched.

Jeffries shook his head. “I did not see her.”

Aldric rose from his seat. “Take me to Madame Renarde, and then organize the servants to search the grounds.”

They went down to the kitchen and Aldric gasped at the sight of Vivian’s companion. Renarde’s face was gray and gaunt, her eyes glazed, and her frame trembled as if she’d been overtaken by palsy.

“Lord Thornton,” Renarde said with a crooked smile. “I have been released due to my illness.” Then she doubled over with a hoarse, racking cough.

“And Vivian?” he asked, though he suspected the answer.

Renarde shook her head sadly. “He will have his two hundred pounds, or die in the effort. But I assure you, Vivian is doing quite well under the circumstances.” She swayed in her seat and grasped the table for balance. “There is one other thing that I must tell you in confidence.”

Despite the feverish glaze, Aldric sensed an urgency that couldn’t be denied. He dismissed the cook and the scullery maid.

Once they were alone, he leaned forward. “What is it you wish to tell me?” he asked, and that’s when he smelled the answer. Beneath the stench of sweat and sickness, there was the unmistakable odor of something familiar. Something that chilled his blood.

Madame Renarde had been in close company with a vampire. A vampire who’d known precisely who he’d stolen from when he’d taken Vivian.

A low growl built in his throat. That was how Vivian’s captor had carried off the abduction and managed to evade Aldric’s hunt for so long.

But what Madame Renarde said next was not the information Aldric already gathered by scent, but something far worse. “I know what you are, Lord Thornton.”

Aldric bared his fangs. “The bloody whoreson told you?”

The companion nodded, then exploded in another fit of coughing. Her pallid flesh whitened further aside from the crimson flags of fever on her cheeks. “Yes, and I will tell you all I know of him and where he keeps your niece if you will promise me one thing.”

For a moment Aldric was tempted to tell the brazen companion that she was in no position to demand anything because he could simply drain the truth with her blood. However, he held back. In such a weakened state, to feed on her could kill her. Especially if the vampire that had held her and was still holding Vivian had already been feeding from Madame Renarde.

“And what promise would that be?” he asked, with a note of warning.

Despite Aldric’s bared fangs and menacing tone, Madame Renarde reached forward and grasped his hand. Sweat beaded on her brow and she spoke in tremulous gasps. “That... the... doctor... you summon... will be... discreet with regards to... my secret.”

The moment Madame Renarde finished her request, her eyes rolled back in her head and she toppled forward. Aldric caught her with a muffled curse and carried her out of the kitchen. “Jeffries!” he called.

The footman emerged from the parlor. “Yes, my lord?”

“Fetch Doctor Rosenfield at once,” Aldric commanded. “And tell no one about this.”

When Jeffries departed, Aldric carried Madame Renarde up to her room, silently praying that the companion’s malady was not fatal. He needed the information she had about the vampire who held Vivian captive.

As he waited for the doctor, Aldric shuttered all the windows on the second floor and closed the curtains. Then he built a roaring fire in Madame Renarde’s room and lit several lanterns. When Doctor Rosenfield arrived shortly after sunrise, he still complained about the lack of light.

“I am sorry, Doctor, the curtains must remain drawn.” Aldric rubbed his temples. “The sun gives me a terrible headache. I can have more lanterns brought in.”

“That is quite all right, my lord.” Rosenfield shook his head and moved the lanterns closer. “I will examine the patient now.”

“There is one more thing,” Aldric said quietly. “There are certain attributes about this... woman... that require discretion should you encounter them. I do hope I can trust you in this matter.”

Doctor Rosenfield stroked his chin and regarded him with a curious glance, but he nodded. “I am always discreet.”

Aldric examined him for signs of a lie and found none, though his evaluations sometimes proved false. “Thank you, Doctor,” he said and left the room.

Ten minutes later, the doctor met Aldric in the corridor. “Madame Renarde is suffering from pneumonia. If the fever breaks within the next day or two, ah, she should survive, but I recommend that... she ...remain in bed for at least a fortnight. I gave her laudanum for the cough and chest pain. Watered wine and broth should do for the next couple days, along with tea, honey, and soft foods.” Doctor Rosenfield stepped closer and whispered, “She will also need a shave soon, if you wish to remain discreet about...her... ah... attributes.”

“Of course.” If Renarde was too weak to accomplish the task, Aldric would have to attend to it. “Is she conscious?”

Doctor Rosenfield shook his head. “She is delirious from fever. I was only able to rouse her long enough for her to tell me her name and where she felt pain before I gave her medicine. Then she fell unconscious again. That is a good thing, however. Sleep is the best of cures. Her heart sounds strong, and I have high hopes of a full recovery.”

Aldric thanked the doctor and paid his fee as well as a little extra. He ground his teeth in irritation that his questioning would have to wait. As he retired to his chambers and undressed for the day sleep, the gravity of the situation weighed on his heart. Madame Renarde knew that Aldric was a vampire. Did that mean that Vivian had also discovered that fact?

The blasted cur who took them had broken one of the principle laws of their kind: never tell humans of the existence of vampires. If the Elders found out that Vivian and Madame Renarde knew, they would order the women to be killed or Changed.

Aldric was most certainly unwilling to kill either one of them. But the alternative wasn’t much more appealing. Renarde already felt trapped in the wrong body. Would it be fair to consign her to an eternity in that form?

And Vivian... Aldric’s shoulders slumped in despair. His niece was supposed to have had her whole life ahead of her. A future full of sunlight, happiness, and hopefully children.

And now the whoreson who took her had cheated her of all that.