Real Vampires: Glory and the Pirates by Bartlett, Gerry (red white royal blue TXT) 📕

been delivered and a general air of neglect. A half dozen chickens ran about, a sheep bleated and smoke drifted from several chimneys. Signs of habitation were everywhere, but no people were in sight. Wise of them, actually. I wanted to shout and box some ears for their slovenly ways.

A door slammed somewhere in the keep and I jumped. Foolish. No mortal would get the best of me and certainly not of Valdez and his well-armed men.

Jangling keys announced the coming of a woman who walked carefully down the stone steps from the floor above us and into the courtyard. She wore a plain black gown that told me she must be in mourning. Her hair had one streak of white under her cap, but her face looked young. Her dark eyes swept over me and my troop of men. I slid from the saddle and into Valdez’s helpful arms.

I noticed a marriage ring on her finger. “Madam. Good evening.” I bobbed a curtsy, not sure of the woman’s status. We hadn’t been led to expect a lady in residence. Oh, this was too bad, if we were taking her home from her.

“Is it?” She looked up at the sky where the moon rode high above us. “I think ‘tis a bit late for a call. Who are you and what do you want?” Her voice quavered and she was clearly upset. “If you are here to rob me, you are too late.” She swept her hand around. “I have naught left here of any value.”

“I am sorry. We sent word…” I stepped closer. “Let me make myself known to you. I am Gloriana St. Clair. My, um,” Blast. This was where it always got awkward. “My companion, Lord Jeremiah Campbell, has been sent here by the king. He was recently given this keep as part of his new holding as Guardian of the Coast. King James himself decreed it.”

“Of course. The king finally remembered us. I should have expected this.” The lady laughed bitterly. “You say you sent word…” She looked around. “I haven’t seen… But then I didn’t want to open any missives that came.” She put her hand to her forehead. “Letters are stacked in my solar. I thought they were condolences I wasn’t prepared to read.”

I waited. What else could I do? The woman took a steadying breath and almost choked on the foul air. She frowned, her eyes darting around the inner courtyard. What she saw made her clutch the stone railing.

“Clearly I have grieved too long. I beg your pardon for the state of this courtyard. I have not attended to my duties since…” She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “No matter. Guardian of the Coast. That was my husband’s title. Now that I am widowed and failed to bear Ralph sons and an heir, my home is no longer mine.” She shuddered and pulled a shawl around her.

What could I say for comfort? It was a fact that a woman with no sons was at the king’s mercy. She was lucky, I supposed, that King James hadn’t sent along a man for her to marry. The lady must not have a fortune of her own. I hated to think what her future might be.

Did she have family? A brother or other male connection who might take her in? I didn’t want to start questioning her now when she was clearly barely holding herself together. If I offered her a place here, would that be an insult, or an answer to her prayers?

My own standing was wobbly at best. Since Jeremiah and I weren’t married, I stood as his hostess because he wished it. In fact, I was simply his mistress. The widow had every right to look down her nose at me as a brazen doxy. Jeremiah’s mother had certainly taken that stance. I braced myself for whatever this lady decided as her welcome. Since she didn’t seem to know what to say, but just kept staring at the filthy courtyard, I spoke.

“How long has your husband been gone?” I finally asked.

She closed her eyes. “Almost two years. I suppose I must be grateful it took his majesty so long to remember that Ralph had been killed by those filthy pirates.” She staggered and sat on the stairs as if her legs could no longer hold her. “Give me a moment. Foolish of me to be surprised. I will pack my things and get out of your way as soon as…” She leaned over and buried her face in her skirt.

“Wait, please. There is no need to be hasty.” I rushed to her side and laid my hand on her back. “We have no wish to put you out into the night. Stay. I am no hand at making a place habitable. I could certainly use your help here if you are inclined to give it.” I didn’t dare look around. If the moldy straw on the ground and reeking air was anything to go by, this lady was no hand at making a home either.

She sat up and stared at me, her face streaked with tears. “You are young. Of course, you have no experience with death. How it makes you lose all hope, all will to…” She studied the enclosure then and moaned. “God, I am shamed by my neglect here. You must think me horrid to let my home become such a filthy…” She shook her head.

“I am sorry. Obviously, the servants here have taken advantage of my mourning period. This is not how I keep a home. But after Ralph died… I couldn’t seem to care enough to oversee…” She shredded her handkerchief.

“I have known death, Madam. I was a widow when I met my Jeremiah. It can make you think there is nothing left for you.” I squeezed her hand. “And sometimes that is the fact of the matter.” I took a breath and coughed. Oh, but the place needed a good