Vampyre Bride ✔️

XLI⎮Hobkirk Priory

Emma's shock was instantly displaced by keen mistrust. "Tell me, Lord Hawksmoor, is it more than happenstance that brought you to this of all coaches?"

"I believe you've already guessed that much."

"You're following me!"

"No, I have been assigned the task of protecting you."

"From what exactly? And by whom?"

"From vicious highwaymen and nocturnal bogeys, Miss Lucas. As to the latter query, I believe you have guessed that also."

"Lord Winterly." Who else indeed.

"Very Good, Miss Lucas."

She gave a stiff lift of her chin. "Why does he not come to protect me himself if he fears for my safety? I had no idea you were employed in his service."

"He did not say, madam, and I did not ask. As to my employment, I prefer to consider it fraternal allegiance."

This she dismissed with a brief quirk of one brow. "Where is he?"

"I regret that that too was not confided to me."

"Then," she said, sighing bitterly, "you mean to follow me to Scotland?"

"If you'll recall—" with a gallant flash of teeth "—I'm protecting you. And yes, I intend to do that all the way to Scotland."

"What if I'm averse to being protected?"

"Your aversion is regrettable," he answered, lowering his brim over his eyes and settling back in his seat, "and your permission unnecessary." He said no more.

Well, she thought, gritting her teeth, she could not very well accuse the man—vampyre, whatever he was—of impudence, for he'd been chivalrous, in the main, notwithstanding the trace of incorrigibility she'd detected in his smirks. And, to own the truth, she was glad of his company, for it meant that Winterly had not completely abandoned her; though he had broken her heart.

The last she must have said aloud, without being aware of her wayward tongue, for Hawk lifted his brim with an elegant finger and considered her from the shadows. Finally, he said, "He has broken his own heart as well, Miss Lucas." Down came the brim again, signaling the end of their strange discourse.

They were soon settled at the Hob's Inn and, after the journey's dust had been washed from Emma's face, the pair set off on foot for Hobkirk Priory at a pace that conveyed them thither in no more than a quarter hour.

The priory was discovered to be a large but unimposing brick cruciform with a crossing tower, bells and all, jutting from the nave and transepts, the top of which was swallowed by low clouds. Beyond the little copse on the north side, Emma could see what looked to be a rectangular dormitory. The whole of the property—the church, chapels, and outbuildings—stood hemmed behind a low stone wall with a rudimentary wooden gate, and it was this through which they entered. Along the path, they passed by a stooping willow with a decidedly melancholy aspect, its tresses hanging low in the fishpond nearby, its leaves falling like silent tears upon the ripples of preceding drops. Emma fancied she saw something of her own mood in its sepulchral demeanor. Distracted, she approached the modest west front without being in the least bit charmed by the thick vines mantling its facade with vibrant blue flowers that peeped out from the green foliage like shy little church bells.

"Our arrival has been noted," said Nicholas, suddenly recalling her attention and, with a nod of his head, steering her gaze up to the nave entrance.

Observing their progress from her post at the heavy pitted doors was a tall nun with a welcome smile. After devoirs were paid, and their business stated, she directed Emma and Nicholas to a parlor where she bade them wait, promising to return with Milli and Sister Mary.