The Vampire's Mail Order Bride

She smiled, somehow holding on to her calm exterior, even though she kind of wanted to jump him. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll let you know how things go when I get back.”

“I’ll be waiting. In fact, why don’t we go into town for dinner tonight?” Hugh stood and shot Stanhill a look. “Then we can give Stanhill the night off.”

Stanhill said nothing.

She nodded. “Sure, that would be nice.”

“I’ll make the arrangements. I’m sure I can find a spot you’ll like.” Hugh picked up his coffee, gave her a look that finished melting her insides, and left.

Stanhill drove her to Lady Ellingham’s estate. She did a quick Google search on Annabelle, but came up empty. Which sucked but also meant Delaney could say whatever she wanted. Sort of. She put her phone away and watched the scenery.

A house loomed ahead. “Is that the estate?”

“Yes,” Stanhill answered.

The house made Hugh’s place look like a travel trailer. A really nice travel trailer, but still. Her estate sat across from the winery and looked down over the rolling vineyards. More acreage sprawled out around the property, making it both grand and secluded.

She stared out the car window. “This place is gorgeous. Wow, these people have money.” She cringed and looked at Stanhill through the rearview mirror. “Sorry, I really didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

He laughed and gave her a wink. “Not to worry, love. They do have money. Not like you were telling tales, eh?”

She sighed. “This is going to be more fancy china and multiple forks, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She glanced at him. “Is she going to grill me? Should I expect the Spanish Inquisition?”

He shrugged. “She hired you. Shouldn’t be too bad.”

That failed to instill any confidence in Delaney.

He parked and came around to open her door. When she got out, he handed her a little card. “I’ve written my mobile on there. Call when you’re ready to come home, all right?”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

He tipped his head toward the house. “Off you go.”

With a nervous smile, she headed to the door and knocked. Stanhill went back to the car, but didn’t pull away. A prim woman with kind eyes answered and let her in. “You must be Annabelle.”

Delaney nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m Alice Bishop, Elenora’s assistant. She’s in the solarium. I’ll show you in.”

Delaney followed Alice as Stanhill finally drove away. A broad, winding staircase led off the foyer. The rest of the house was like a European museum, all creamy marble, soaring ceilings and statuary. Their footsteps echoed through the vast space, but the solarium was much cozier. Bright and cheery and filled with plants, except for the back corner, which was shaded by potted palms. Elenora sat at a wrought iron and marble table beneath them.

She stood as Delaney entered. “Hello, there.”

“Hello.” Delaney squelched the urge to curtsey. For the grandmother of three adult men, she barely looked a day over sixty-five. She must have had work done. Good work. Not the kind that made a woman look like she had a chip clip holding everything together on the back of her neck. “Thank you for inviting me. Your home is incredible.”

“Thank you, dear. Please, join me.” Elenora pointed to the chair across from her.

Delaney took the seat and tried not to fidget, but she felt as out of place as a meatball in a box of truffles. The table was already set with delicate china cups and plates and scroll-handled silverware.

Alice returned with a tea trolley. An actual tea trolley. She poured tea for both of them, then added creamer, sugar and a three-tiered platter of finger sandwiches and petit fours to the table. There were two sets of silver tongs.

“Help yourself, dear.” Elenora used her tongs to select a few items and put them on a small plate. “How are things going with Hugh?”

Right to it then. “Good. I’d say good.” Delaney picked up her tongs and studied the tiers. The petit fours were gorgeous, all iced like tiny cakes. And the little sandwiches had no crusts, their sides pressed into herbs to give them borders of green.

“Do you have any romantic feelings for him yet?”

Delaney clanked the tongs loudly against the platter. Was that the British way of asking if she’d had sex with him yet? She took a breath and said a mental prayer that she wouldn’t break anything. “It’s…sort of soon for that, don’t you think? I’ve only been there a day.”

“Can you tell if he has any for you?”

He’d kissed her. But sharing that felt like betraying a trust. That kiss had been a moment of intimacy between her and Hugh. Not something his grandmother needed to know about. “I know he likes me. We get along very well. As for romantic feelings…” She smiled as she put a triangle of cream cheese and salmon bordered in dill on her plate. “I think it’s going to take a little more time.”

Elenora’s cool demeanor was a little hard to read. “What do you want out of life, Annabelle?”

What did Annabelle want out of life? Delaney wished Google had been able to help her. “A loving husband, a good marriage, children.” All answers Delaney imagined Annabelle would give. Then she gave one of her own, because pretending to be Annabelle was exhausting. “I’d love to have my own shop, too.”

Elenora perked up a bit. “What kind of shop?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">