Never Been Bitten by Erica Ridley Page A

down.” Miss Breckenridge tsked. “You should know better than to imbibe spirits on an empty stomach, Miss Ramsay, and you oughtn’t sample anything my brothers offer, no matter how full your stomach. Why don’t you return to your chamber and lie down? Ring Cook for some soup. It’s miraculous, I promise.”
    “All right,” Ellie mumbled, disappointed to be returning indoors a mere fifteen minutes into the day’s adventure but seeing no other recourse. With her head spinning so, she would never manage a long hike in the sun.
    “You do look deathly pale.” Miss Breckenridge placed her hand on Ellie’s arm. “I shall have to accompany you.”
    “No, no, it’s your birthday.” Embarrassment flooded Ellie’s cheeks. “I’ll be fine in time for dinner; don’t you worry.”
    Miss Breckenridge’s pursed lips exposed her skepticism, but already her name was being called by various members of the party. “I’ll have my brothers take you. They did this; the least they can do is escort you inside.”
    “I’m fine,” Ellie lied, willing her spine to steady. The last thing she wanted was more witnesses to this humiliation. “Go ahead. Truly.”
    Without waiting for a response, she headed toward the house. She concentrated so hard on not tumbling insensate into the grass that at first she failed to notice she’d walked slightly off-target and was rapidly approaching the side of the manor, rather than the front door. Just as she turned to correct her mistake, the sound of rapid panting caught her attention. She lurched forward. With one hand splayed against the bricks for balance, Ellie leaned her head around the corner.
    A large greenhouse protruded from the rear of the manor. And there, frolicking in the conservatory’s long shadow, was Cain’s puppy.

Chapter Seven
    Cain wandered restlessly amongst the dense greenery in the darkest nook of the conservatory, hoping to avoid both servants and revelers whilst his puppy cavorted out-of-doors.
    His fractured shoulder was healing, although not as quickly as he would have liked. If he had been thinking about his injury, he would’ve spirited away one of the party’s insipid coquettes for a drop or two during last night’s card-playing. Instead, he had been thinking about the bonny Miss Ramsay. That is, when he was capable of rational thought at all.
    After centuries of fruitless searching and prolonged homesickness, he had crossed paths with renegade vampire Aggie Munro. At long last, he could see an end to decade upon decade of solitary hunting, peppered by the occasional wild pup that invariably grew old and died, leaving Cain to walk his path alone. No more. If he could not talk the deserter into accompanying him peaceably, he would return her forcibly. He had not gotten close to his quarry just to fail now.
    Then there was the question of returning Miss Ramsay—Ellie—to her real family. Whomever they might be. Depending on how much detail Aggie had Compelled her human companion to forget, Ellie might never recall her true life . . . or even her true name. “Elspeth Ramsay” was much too Scottish for a modern English rose. Aggie might have stolen her as a child, might have used enough Compulsion on the parents so that they even forgot they were parents, violating virtually every sacred tenet of the rigid Code at once. Unforgivable, as far as Cain was concerned, but the Elders valued his brawn, not his opinions. He was simply required to deliver Aggie to their mercy.
    Victory was finally at hand . . . if unexpectedly bittersweet. Cain had no desire to turn Ellie’s world upside down and then abandon her in the wilds of England to fend for herself, but what choice did he have? He certainly couldn’t drag a human girl into the heart of vampire territory. Not without her becoming just another servant.
    Without freedom, she would not be allowed to leave the keep, much less to return to England. Cain could never consign another person to the same desolate