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The Vampire's Mail Order Bride(5)

By:Kristen Painter


“You’re an insolent child.” She huffed. “It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been alive or will be alive, I want grandbabies. I want to see my boys settled down and happy. Or at least one of them. You.”

“I am happy.” He wasn’t jumping up and down with joy, but he was fine.

She gave him the stare that destroyed lesser men. “You rattle around all alone in that house of yours, working on your formulas, wallowing in your grief—”

“I do not wallow and I am not alone. I have Stanhill.” His man-in-service was a faithful companion, his rook in vampire terms—a half-turned human who served a vampire’s needs in exchange for immortality—but their association was a purposeful one and didn’t disrupt Hugh’s routine. He liked his life the way it was. All that uninterrupted time to spend in his lab.

And maybe a little wallowing. But it grew less with each passing year. At least, he liked to tell himself that.

Her brows shot up. “Stanhill is your rook, not a wife.”

“No, he’s not. Thankfully.” Because that was something Hugh was never going to have again. He stood and tried to change the subject. “How about lunch tomorrow? We could go to—”

“Sit down.”

Blasted woman. He sat. “No lunch tomorrow?”

“I’ve taken the liberty”—that didn’t bode well—“of arranging for a suitable young woman to come visit you.”

A frisson of anger worked up his spine. He loved his grandmother with all his heart, such as it was. She’d saved him and his brothers from certain death by turning them into vampires, so on some level he owed her his life. But this was a step too far. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Hugh! Language.” She clucked her tongue at him. “Just that next week, there will be a woman arriving at your home, and you’re to entertain her as a possible mate.”

“Are you bloody kidding me? No. I won’t. This is the twenty-first century. There is no duchy to protect, no titles to pass on, no need to produce an heir. You realize you are the dowager duchess in name only.” Although in public, he and his brothers often called her Didi as a bit of a tease for that very reason. That, and she wasn’t keen on them calling her Grandmamma in public.

“Just because we lost our land and titles doesn’t mean we have to behave as though we’ve lost our manners and sense of civility.”

This was an old argument and not one he wanted to unpack yet again. He let a moment of silence pass to clear the air. “People don’t have arranged marriages anymore.”

“Some do. The werewolves do.”

“Only for their alphas and only to secure pack treaties. And I am not a werewolf.” He stared right back at her. “I am never marrying again. I don’t know why you can’t understand that.” Any woman who was going to be with him would have to become a vampire, and he was never going to risk the life of another woman that way again.

“If the transformation hadn’t killed Juliette, the plague would have.” His grandmother sighed. “Stop punishing yourself for her death.”

He looked away, unable to make eye contact with her in that moment.

She continued, “Her death broke all our hearts, but that woman loved you and she loved life. She would not want you living this way.”

The muscles in his jaw felt like they might pop if they tightened further.

“You will at least give this woman a chance.”

He turned to look at her. “Or what?”

She returned his gaze, letting the moment lengthen almost to the point of discomfort. “Or I will revoke your amulet.”

His hand went to the pendant and chain that hung from his neck. “You wouldn’t.”

She broke eye contact to stare at her handkerchief. “I would. I am very serious about this, Hugh.”

“Apparently.” The amulets were sacred. Necessary. They all wore them. The stone at the center held an ancient magic that protected vampires from the sun. Without it, he would never see daylight again. “Does Alice know about this?”

“I do.” Alice Bishop walked into the room. The slight woman had aged a little more than his grandmother, but nothing that belied her almost three hundred years upon the earth. At best she looked to be in her late fifties. But then, keeping the years at bay was nothing for a witch powerful enough to create an amulet capable of shielding a vampire from the sun. She was also powerful enough that Didi had had no need to turn the woman into a rook to save her life.

Alice stopped at the back of his grandmother’s chair. “Your grandmother only wants what’s best for you, Hugh.”