Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

here no matter what the weather. You have to come with me. I’ve come to rescue you from the vampire.”
    This time Evangeline spoke firmly. “I’m not in need of rescue, Mr. Harding. I am not being held against my will anymore.”
    “But you’re locked in.”
    Evangeline began to wonder if Mr. Harding were quite himself.
    “If you observe the door you will see it is bolted from the inside. I am free to leave as soon as it is safe to travel.”
    “He’ll never let you go, Miss Rutledge. It is a ruse to keep you complacent until he has made you into the same kind of foul deviant he is.”
    Evangeline found her hackles rising at his description of Raven.
    She herself had called him such things on numerous occasions. Be that as it may, she took exception to Mr. Harding doing it. “No, you don’t understand, his lordship is a very uncommon man, and admittedly difficult, but the stories about vampires are simply not true, at least, not in the way they are told.”
    “Don’t you see, Evangeline, he has already drawn you in.” She was not at all sure when or if she had invited him to call her by her Christian name. “He has probably bitten you already, in your sleep Sanguinarian 253
    perhaps. Let me see.” In a trice he was at her side, tugging at the neckline of her nightgown.
    “Mr. Harding!” She pushed at him which only made him struggle with her harder. He pulled her hands away and made a grab at her shawl to pull it off. “Mr. Harding!” It was all she could do to keep her voice down. “Do not touch me, sir. Step back at once.”
    “But don’t you see, Evangeline, he may already have ravished you. You may be a vampire yourself.”
    “I am not a vampire. You are quite mistaken.” She struggled to fight him off. He was shaking and his eyes were very bright, giving her cause for concern which she had not felt a moment ago. “You are overwrought from your journey over the moors in this terrible weather. I fear you are catching a cold. Mr. Harding. Do not touch me!”
    Finally he released her. “No, I’m very well, but we must get you out of this castle tonight before anything terrible happens to you.”
    The young man was in a peculiar state, exhausted and irrational, so intent upon her rescue that he would not now be persuaded against it. She must keep him calm, convince him she was not in imminent danger and at the same time ensure that Raven did not know he was there. “You need brandy to take the chill off you. Can you keep very quiet and follow me down to the kitchen?”
    “I’ll go. I don’t want you to take the risk,” he said.
    “Mr. Harding, it is not I who am in danger from Lord Ravenscroft, it is you. He does not like you and at the moment he has the beast within him, which I suppose is my fault.”
    “The beast?”
    Such terms had become part of Evangeline’s lexicon without her even knowing it. “I just mean he is especially bad-tempered at present. Come along, take off your boots and carry them.”
    Obedient for the moment, he helped her unbolt the door and followed her outside. The corridor was black, lit only by the small light of the candle she carried. They crept as silently as they could 254
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    down the main stairs and across the Great Hall to the kitchen.
    Evangeline was able to locate a bottle of brandy and pour him a glassful. He swallowed it in one gulp and shook his head as it burned his throat. To her relief he began to look a little more settled.
    The kitchen was dark but for the remains of the fire in the hearth and the embers left behind in the cookstove. “Would you like something to eat, Mr. Harding?”
    “My name is James.” He smiled. “May I call you Evie?”
    “Well, yes, I suppose so.” He was becoming far too familiar with this second rescue attempt.
    “Come on, let’s get going.” He ran over to the door where a row of coat hooks bore outdoor clothing, heavy capes, and coats. Sturdy outdoor shoes stood lined up on the floor, all of them far too big for Evangeline. Mr. Harding took a cloak and gathered up a pair of shoes.
    “Quickly, get these on. We have no time to waste.”
    “Mr. Harding, I am not coming,” she told him firmly. “I will leave when the weather breaks. I am not a prisoner. I do not need to be rescued.”
    “Evie, he will do unspeakable things to you if you stay any longer.
    This is the same man who kidnapped you—twice.”
    “Yes, that’s true,” she acknowledged.
    “He tried to force you to marry