Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

expect?”
    “It is not my place to ask, ma’am, I beg your pardon. I merely thought you seemed so...” He searched for the right words. “Unlike Lord Ravenscroft.”
    “He is a gentleman and I am a lady, how alike could we be?” It was not a question anyone could answer, and Evangeline made to leave. “My companion and I are going now to York Minster to look at the great cathedral and take a moment for contemplation.”
    The man bowed elegantly from the waist and led them to the door.
    As they passed, the strange-looking patrons rose, offering small bows and curtsies. Evangeline nodded regally to each one. The older man opened the door and stood back. “It was a pleasure to serve you, ma’am. Might I ask your name?”
    “Miss Evangeline Rutledge.”
    “Lady Ravenscroft as of next week,” Mrs. Brackett added, as though she had forgotten they were running away.
    The man bowed again. “It will be my pleasure to serve you, as it has been my pleasure to serve his lordship.”
    Evangeline accepted the courtesy graciously. “I shall be certain to tell my lord how kind you have been.” She breezed out into the street.
    The sky looked decidedly overcast as the two women hurried along the narrow, busy streets. Stopping at a costermonger’s cart which sold hot chestnuts they enquired as to the direction of the King’s Arms public house. “It’s right on the River Ouse, Miss,” the old man said, eyeing Mrs. Brackett appreciatively. “Follow Cumberland Street and you’ll be there in less than ten minutes.” He winked at the older woman.
    “Cheeky beggar,” she said to Evangeline huffily as they walked on.

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    The King’s Arms was right on the water and was famous for flooding when the river was high in the spring. Now in mid-January the river sat dark and cold, flowing swiftly. The wind was much colder by the river and the women would have been more comfortable in the public house, but propriety dictated that unescorted ladies remain outside.
    It was no more than fifteen minutes before a coach arrived and Mrs. Brackett went to inquire of the coachman where he was going and when he would be leaving.
    “We’re in luck,” she told Evangeline. “He’s going on down to London and he doesn’t have to change the horses because he did it only a couple of hours since. He says he’s not going on till he’s had something to eat, though.”
    “How long?” Evangeline asked anxiously, looking at her pocket timepiece.
    “No more than half an hour I hope, but he says we can get inside to stay out of the cold. Come on, pet.”
    They hurried over to the coach and Evangeline paid two fares to London. The coachman helped them inside. “No bags, ladies?”
    “Our baggage will follow us.” Evangeline adopted a forlorn look.
    “I have had news that my father is ill and we must hurry home to him.
    There was simply no time to pack. It hardly seemed important when I received word about papa.”
    The driver took off his hat. “Sorry to hear that, Miss. I’ll just be getting a quick bite and a pint and we’ll have you on your way in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
    “Thank you.” Evangeline feigned wiping a tear while the coachman closed the door.

    * * * *

    Raven had spent half the day placating and comforting Dominica, who, just as he was about to leave that morning, had flown into one of 76
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    her murderous rages. It was rare for Munk not to be able to control Lady Dominica, but that morning she had found his sister impossible, and when Dominica was like that only Raven could control her.
    Despite his mistake the night before, he felt that Evangeline had softened toward him. If only he had controlled his overpowering urge to feed when he saw her hand bleeding. He was already hungry and the sight of her blood had fairly hypnotized him. He had never done anything so stupid before as to take blood from a person under such circumstances.
    Pacing the Great Hall, he heard the grandfather clock in the entrance hall chime the hour. He had expected her back by seven at the latest—it was now nine o’clock and there was no sign of the carriage. Could they have got into an accident? In a few long strides he was at the double doors flinging one side open. A sharp wind cut through him which he did not notice at all.
    Stepping outside he scanned the courtyard to the open wrought iron gates and the moor beyond, listening carefully, as alert as a deer listening for predators. His hearing was