For a moment he thought her lips quivered—either from humor or, Fate forbid it, from some other emotion. “Certainly not. But at least you wouldn’t feel the necessity to wrap me up and throw me onto the balcony.”
Would the chit never stop screeching about it?
Dimitri crossed his arms over his sagging, stained waistcoat and glared down at her. “The truth is, Miss Woodmore, your brother has gotten himself into serious danger with a society of ruthless men. By disappearing with the sister of one of them, he has not only put himself in a most injurious position, but also you and your sisters—for they would like nothing better than to use one or any of you to get to Chas.”
“Then they are after us as hostages? Ransom?” Her dark blue eyes narrowed as if she were deep in thought. “But then that must mean Chas is still alive and hidden somewhere if they are trying to abduct us.” Relief washed over her face, and for a moment, Dimitri was struck by the beauty and intelligence in that stubborn countenance. “He must still be alive. And safe.”
He bowed his head. “Your brother is very cunning and able, and you are likely correct. I’m confident he can take care of himself. But you and your sister must not leave this house or see anyone without my permission. You are completely safe whilst in my custody, but Cezar Moldavi is not only ruthless but also very intelligent. And your brother has betrayed him in a most egregious manner. He will not give up easily.”
“Cezar Moldavi?” Her eyes widened.
Now it was Dimitri’s turn to be surprised. “You recognize that name, then?” Woodmore must have been much more forthcoming with his sisters than he’d thought—and more than was prudent.
“Rather like yourself, Corvindale, I’m familiar with the name but I have never met the man.” She fluttered her hands, this time in more agitation. “I mean to say, now that I’ve met you?—”
Dimitri shifted impatiently. “Yes, yes, Miss Woodmore. Please refrain from stating the obvious. Now, I am expecting Mr. Cale any moment now. What other items must you drag forth and force me to ponder?”
“You still have not tendered an apology,” she replied primly, and, he thought, with great bravery. “I have never been handled so?—”
“Miss Woodmore,” he interrupted. “Do you mean to say that should a man push you from the path of an oncoming carriage he should bow and scrape at your feet in apology for mussing your skirts? Or should he ask permission first, before doing so?”
“Well, I do believe—” She stopped herself this time and pressed her full lips together. Then she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “I did not realize we were in some sort of danger. You made no effort to impress that fact upon me—a fact which you obviously well knew. Perhaps in the future, Lord Corvindale, you might be a bit more forthcoming. Particularly about things that apply to me and my sisters.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded. Simply to shut her up.
She had the temerity to step closer, followed by a stronger waft of spiced flowers. “There is one more thing, my lord. I require your assurances that my sister’s reputation will be intact when she is returned here to your custody—or that you will take the appropriate steps to correct any problems thereof.”
Dimitri pressed his lips together. If he ever saw Chas Woodmore alive again, he would kill him for dumping this mess upon him. He and Chas were associates—one could almost consider them friends, as odd as it might be for a Dracule to be friends with a vampire hunter. But this situation with the sisters went beyond the boundaries of friendship and strained the slender bit of honor that Dimitri possessed.
“You have my assurances I will do my utmost to protect your sister’s reputation, Miss Woodmore,” he replied stiffly. “No one—other than perhaps yourself and Chas—is more concerned about it than I am. But you haven’t any reason to worry. She is safe from Moldavi and in unblemished company.”
Miss Woodmore held his gaze for a bit too long, but Dimitri managed to hide the fact that he was lying from behind his incisors.
Voss was going to be dead the moment Dimitri found him and slammed a stake through his heart. Lucifer could bugger himself. Perhaps Dimitri would be fortunate enough that the devil would kill him in retaliation.
That was a compelling possibility.
And then Angelica would have to be married off to someone who would keep his mouth shut, quickly and quietly?—
At that moment, he was saved from any further interaction with this woman who seemed to be fearless in his presence and who seemed to have no qualms about making demands that any prudent man would be.
“My lord.” Vigniers, his butler, appeared in the corridor. “Mr. Giordan Cale has arrived.”
Cale, of course, was right on Vigniers’s heels, his hat in hand, his strides confident and unrushed. But his face was haggard and weary, and for a moment, Dimitri feared the worst news about Narcise Moldavi.
“Dimitri,” Cale said by way of greeting. And then, “Miss Woodmore.” He gave a quick bow as she, ever the proper miss, curtsied. Her chestnut hair gleamed with shots of gold and copper as she did so.
It occurred to Dimitri at that moment she’d not curtsied to him at their first official meeting. He frowned. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said to the infuriating woman. Then he looked at Cale and gestured down the corridor. “My study.”
Cale bowed again to the woman then brushed past her, seemingly without hesitation or even without stirring her skirts.
Dimitri could do nothing but follow him, and was absurdly pleased when Miss Woodmore took the hint and shifted out of the way, spicy essence and elegant wrists and all, as he strode past her into the sanctuary of his study. At last.
7
WHEREIN OUR HEROINE’S HORIZONS ARE GREATLY BROADENED
Angelica opened her eyes.
